Chapter Four
Pindpo tried to rise off of her and Journee was reluctant to relinquish her latch on Pindpo’s big hard nipple. But she knew she had to. Pindpo’s tit was coming up empty and Journee was way too full already.
She guessed even a junior milk slut, a young woman trying on the milk slut life for size, had limits. There was a reason she was so skinny. She had a small appetite and a small stomach.
Journee saw that Rhone was back from wherever she’d gone.
Rhone announced, “All is in readiness. Come with me, American milk slut.”
Journee felt dull resentment, mostly muffled under the throb of her needy pussy and the way she felt her heartbeat against her tight bladder.
This black third-world bitch was bossing her around!
What else was new.
Journee sat up and groaned from the tummy pain and sick feeling. She felt like she sloshed with milk. Jesus. If she was what she ate, then by tomorrow she’d turn into a giant lactating breast.
With a groan, she stood up. She looked down. Her tummy was no longer concave! It wasn’t sticking out all that much but she was clearly way too full. But she guessed she’d already known that.
Pindpo, maybe helpfully or maybe only to further what they had planned, grabbed Journee’s elbow and pulled her along as they followed Rhone.
Journee heard something that made her need to pee become desperate. Running water! Who left the water on? Curse them! Journee really did not want to pee in the upstairs hallway or anywhere other than a toilet.
Rhone led her to one of the upstairs bathrooms, the big one, not one of the ones that matched up with the individual rooms. It was the one with the orgy-sized shower and a big garden tub and double-sinks.
Journee did not care about any of those. What was important was the toilet. Peeing was even more important, now that the steamy sexiness of the tit-feeding was over, than an orgasm. If Journee could only choose one or the other, she’d choose peeing.
Ah, but she would not need to choose….
Journee knew they knew she needed to pee. What she didn’t understand was why they took her to this bathroom. Why not just let her go pee in the bathroom connected to her new temporary but quite fancy bedroom?
And why was she thinking in terms of them letting her go pee? She was an adult, dammit! She hated when people who met her with her mom back at home asked what high school she went to and when she’d graduate. She was an adult now!
Yeah, thin and small-breasted and enthusiastic-acting was not a formula for coming across as fully matured.
Journee saw the source of the running water sound. The bathwater was running in the wide garden tub. It was three fourths full.
Rhone ordered, “Get into tub, American milk slut.”
“No, wait. I fucking need to pee!”
“Yes, we know. And we know you need to have an orgasm also. That is as intended. Get in the tub!”
Rhone glared at her and Journee felt discombobulated. Horny, way too full, and desperately in need of peeing was no time for a confrontation.
She’d better do as Rhone ordered.
Journee stepped into the tub. The water was very warm.
“Lay down, stupid American milk slut.”
Pindpo snickered, “Does the white savage not even know how to take a bath?”
Fuck her! Journee did know how to take a bath!
Journee lay in the warm, nearly hot, water. It made her need to pee even more urgent. The young African beauties seemed to tower over her.
Pindpo moved around behind Journee, to the head of the tub. She knelt and placed her hands on Journee’s shoulders and then slid her hands down to Journee’s chest. She cupped Journee’s small breasts possessively.
Pindpo said, “These are so small. They will be larger if we bring you into milk. I do wonder how white milk will taste from a white teat.”
What the hell did that mean? They wanted Journee to get pregnant? No way was Journee up for that! Besides, if she ever did get pregnant, that milk was for the baby, not primitive black lesbians. Twisted fucks!
Rhone knelt at the side of the tub. She had a look in her eyes. And eager look that made Journee anxious. But anxious for what? She really needed to pee. It was getting worse by the second. But it didn’t seem like she could pee any time soon.
She was stuck in the tub. That made Journee focus again on her need to an orgasm. That and the way they looked at her and talked to her, how she was held down now, helpless, and Pindpo’s hands on her breasts, her thumbs flicking Journee’s nipples, all combined to make Journee now more needy for an orgasm than anything else. Her orgasm need was back on top of her need to pee.
She felt so odd. So contentedly full with her stretched stomach. She was too full, and yet so needy at the same time.
Rhone reached in with both hands. Her right hand, nearest Journee, settled in the shallow hot water over Journee’s tummy. Just that touch, there, at her tightest, achiest spot, made Journee want to cum.
But an instant later, Rhone’s other hand, the right one further from Journee, delved between Journee’s legs.
Oh fuck!
Rhone gripped Journee’s pussy with arrogant confidence. She jiggled her hand, rubbing her palm heel firmly over the top of Journee’s slit. She put pressure on Journee’s swollen clitoris through Journee’s delicate flesh. Journee’s fullness and the passionate swelling in her sex pushed back. Her clitoris pressed between her swollen fullness and Rhone’s insistent hand.
That was it.
A girl could only take so much!
Journee bucked, partially against Rhone’s hand and partially in a lame attempt to escape her orgasm. The hot bath water sloshed.
There would be no escape.
Journee orgasmed, her mouth clamping shut and her eyes squeezed tight. She shook and trembled and went stiff in the hot liquid.
Several seconds into the orgasm, she felt a strange liquid release. A sensation like peeing that she’d never felt before. But it she wasn’t peeing. Not yet.
Rhone yelled, “American milk slut make the orgasm!”
Pindpo said, “I will stretch the slut’s nipples. I am always so helpful.”
Pindpo did pull and stretch at Journee’s nipples. Journee’s hands flopped up to her chest, trying to stop the pain, but her orgasm had her too uncoordinated. Her flopping hands did no good.
Journee hated the pain from her nipples. Yet it made her orgasm go up a level to something bigger. She thrashed harder, looking like she was fucking up and down against an invisible lover laying on top of her. But all she had was Rhone’s hand and all her thrashing made the jerks on her nipples more painful.
Journee flopped in the water and tried to twist this way or that, but Rhone’s hand and Pindpo’s nipple grips did not allow escape.
The orgasm went on for what felt like an endless time.
Journee finally calmed, and the water in the tub calmed with her.
Journee’s orgasm released its grip on her, and her orgasm-powered strength turned into weakness.