Chapter Three
Rhone’s other nipple was inside her mouth, poking and sliding on the top of Journee’s tongue. It leaked milk. Journee sucked hard at it. She suckled. She drank greedily.
She didn’t blame them for mistakenly thinking she was a milk slut. She bet a real-life milk slut, if there were such people, acted exactly like this.
Exactly the same….
Pindpo’s voice sounded musical, “The American slut’s girl flower looks like it is in full bloom after a hard rain. That is how a milk slut looks between her legs while she fills up on teat milk.”
Rhone laughed, and the laughter made her tit bounce and push against Journee’s face.
Journee dimly resented Pindpo for trying to make her sound like she was a milk slut. Pindpo was playing up to Rhone’s wants and unwittingly playing on Journee’s fear. Journee sure as fuck would never want to be a milk slut. No way! No matter how much higher of a price she could fetch in their crummy third-world market.
Yes, she was behaving like some legendary milk slut, that was true. Maybe it was some local creature of slut. Like their slut version of a Chupacabra. You don’t run into the Chupacabra legend just anywhere. You had to go to New Mexico or Puerto Rico or whatever. Apparently, around this crummy tiny country buried in the heart of Africa, they may or may not have milk sluts, but they at least believed they existed.
Journee was pretty sure the way she sucked so hard on Rhone’s second tit, the way she sucked so much of it into her mouth, and the way she so quickly swallowed down such big swallows of milk, load after mouth load of milk, led to their mistaken impression.
Fuck it. Or suck it, probably. Whatever. She didn’t care. Let them think what they want to think. She needed more of this milk. She was still so hungry/thirsty for it. She already felt full, but she swore her hunger/thirst grew by the minute.
Like… she was some kind of milk slut….
Rhone told Pindpo, “Lap up her flower’s nectar. But recall the plan.”
“Yes, the plan. I will recall it.”
The plan? What fucking plan? It couldn’t be good, not for Journee, if they only referred to it mysteriously and without revealing details.
And did “lap up her flower’s nectar” mean what Journee thought it meant?
The thought of that did not alarm her like she thought it should. It sounded like what she needed. Now that she paid attention to how she felt down there, she realized she felt flush with blood flow and loose with wetness.
Jesus, no wonder why they thought she was a milk slut.
Was there such a thing as a milk slut? A sexual Chupacabra? If there was, hopefully it could only be true of a Rambikkun and couldn’t be true of an American.
She bet a real milk slut, if there was such a breed of slut, would really want their pussy licked as they guzzled milk. Journee felt like she was guzzling the milk now, practically inhaling it. It was like she couldn’t possibly drink it fast enough. Even though Rhone let down freely, like a little nipple faucet, the milk still did not fill Journee’s mouth fast enough.
Yeah, sure, Pindpo should lick her pussy. Journee was all for it. Ha! She had them fooled! They thought she was a milk slut, and they were going to lick her pussy because that was what a milk slut would want in this situation. And, just coincidentally, that was what Journee wanted also. She had them fooled, and this way she’d get what she wanted.
Not so much. Or, more like, not enough.
Pindpo did crouch between Journee’s legs. She did lick Journee’s pussy. It did feel as fantastic as Journee thought it would. It was what her pussy wanted.
And in just a minute, so quickly, Journee felt herself about to crest to an orgasm. And, what great timing, Rhone’s second breast by then was coming up nearly empty.
But then…
…Pindpo stopped licking!
That wasn’t right! That was not fair!
Rhone got off her.
Journee lay there, writhed around, and felt desperate with need.
Journee did not try to get up. Her body wanted pleasing, not leaving.
Rhone and Pindpo noticed. They stood at the side of the bed, over Journee, looking down at her, appreciating her slim, vulnerable, needy beauty. It was as they’d anticipated. It was also an opportunity to drive home the fact Journee did not try to rise.
Pindpo, her mouth wet, said, “The American slut does not try to rise, does she, Rhone?”
“No, she does not. We have taken her measure and know her for what she is. Now she should also know. She is a milk slut. Of course, Queen Muunu did caution they are mere white savages, and so, even now, she may be ignorant that she is a milk slut.”
Rhone was damn right about that! Journee Parrow was not some twisted freak milk slut!
Journee was happy to be ignorant about this milk slut thing. She hoped she stayed ignorant. Ignorance was bliss.
So was drinking their milk for some reason. It was blissful.
Journee felt guilty but tried to give herself a break.
Journee was just… a horny young woman. It wasn’t her fault. Pindpo had licked her pussy! It was so confusing to suckle milk and have her pussy licked at the same time. It was hard to keep the two acts separate. That was why she seemed like such a milk slut.
Journee hoped she was only a standard run-of-the-mill slut and not a milk slut. No one looked at a slut with respect, but they weren’t laughed at the way Journee guessed a milk slut might be laughed at.
But which turned her on first? The breastfeeding or having her pussy licked? Wasn’t her pussy already wet when Pindpo started licking it?
Journee had suckled two firm tits filled with milk and her tummy was full of warm milk. And that warmth in her tummy migrated downward to her pussy.
She hoped it was all perfectly natural. Hopefully it was typical for when two sexy African girls forced you to breastfeed. There was nothing milk slutty about it!
Pindpo said, “It is my turn for her to drink from me. My teats ache so badly. They are overfilled. But will the milk slut have room in her belly? She is so thin and her belly is so flat. Or it was when first we entered. I would not want to make her burst.”
“These milk sluts can always fit more. Their bellies stretch. Imagine if she were impregnated. The belly would be much more stretched. She has plenty of room for your milk. Do it quickly, feed her before she needs to urinate. As you know, we have the plan.”
They had a plan that required they make her drink all of their available milk before she needed to urinate? What the Hell?
Journee already needed to pee. She’d awakened needing to pee. She always woke up that way. The milk hadn’t hit her system yet, at least not her bladder. But when it did, she’d need to pee badly and for a long time.
Journee lay there cooperatively as Rhone got off her and Pindpo mounted her. Pindpo’s swollen tight breast pressed against Journee’s mouth.
Journee knew what to do. She wasn’t a milk slut but she wasn’t stupid either. She sucked. She sucked hard. Milk sprayed powerfully into her mouth. Streams of milk jetted and pulsed against her inner cheeks, across her tongue, and against the top of her throat.
She guzzled. Soon she still felt a need to pee and a need to orgasm yet she also felt strangely calmed despite her urgent needs. Drinking this milk was making her placid as a cow!
But she couldn’t help drinking more and more, gulping down swallow after swallow. She felt her tummy tightening as Pindpo’s breast slackened.
How did these two make so much breast milk? This did not seem normal. Journee had seen babies breastfeeding. No way did they feed from gushers like this. Journee even had a friend in high school, just graduated, who had a baby and breastfed him. It was all sweet and calm and her friend was constantly worried he didn’t get enough milk. And worried she did not make enough.
Journee had no such worry as far as this milk supply! Any one of these four tits made three times as much milk as her friend made with one breast. Maybe five times as much.
Where were the actual babies who were supposed to get this milk? Journee hoped they weren’t going hungry or something.
Journee hoped much more fervently that she’d get an orgasm soon.
Pindpo switched Journee over to her other breast and Journee went at it hard, bucking her face on it like a baby goat. She couldn’t get enough. Jesus, if it was like this for her, those milk sluts must really have it bad, huh?
Journee’s tummy felt so full it ached. It felt like it was stretching. The influx of milk was working into her system but not nearly as fast as she guzzled it down. The milk entering her bloodstream and the tightness of her midriff made Journee’s need to pee urgent.
All that was nothing compared to Journee’s now raging need to orgasm.
She was about to slide a hand between her legs when Rhone slid her bent-over body between Journee’s legs.
Journee felt a lick on her wetly receptive slit.
Yes!
…
Where was the next lick?
…
Another one!
Yes!
…
What was the hold up? She needed more licks! Lots more!
…
She didn’t even need lots more. Only a few more licks and that would do the trick! She was so close!
Fuck. Breastfeeding like this was so incredibly hot. She’d had no idea! Babies were so fucking lucky. Too bad she couldn’t do this all the time. But also, good thing she couldn’t. She might get addicted.
Another lick on her pussy! A big sweeping one.
Journee shook in near orgasm.
She spread her legs wide and lifted her hips, asking for more licking. Her hips begged for it. She didn’t care how slutty she looked. Not anymore. She didn’t care what they thought of her or what she’d think of herself later on.
She cared only for sucking down milk and orgasming and the two were entwined in her mind. She sucked and swallowed harder and faster like it might bring her closer to orgasm. She thought it did but it did not bring more licks.
Journee’s pussy lifting movement made her tummy tighten and pushed ingested milk back into her esophagus. The stomach acid burned and her abdomen ached with fullness. She knew she should stop wagging her pussy upward searching for attention. It was like begging without words. It was humiliating but she couldn’t get herself to stop physically begging.
Then Rhone truly outraged her.
She said, “Pindpo, keep feeding the milk slut. I will prepare the location as we spoke about.”
“Yes, Rhone. She sucks and drinks from me as well as any milk slut ever. We must tell Queen Muunu. I am sure Queen Muunu will wish to avail herself of such a needy milk slut mouth. Queen Muunu can feed this milk slut in between feeding the milk slut’s mother. Surely mother and daughter milk sluts are the very reason for each woman having two teats.”
What did she say about Journee’s mother?
That had to be an overactive imagination thing. Or a lie.
Her mom wouldn’t suckle at some African Queen’s tit!
Journee was sure her mom wasn’t a milk slut. Hell, Journee thought she was more of a milk slut than her mom! But she wasn’t a milk slut and never would be no matter how much breast milk she drank.
How much breast milk could a girl drink without becoming a milk slut?
Wait. Was she already milk slut? It might be true. She wasn’t sure of the exact definition, and she doubted Websters or Wikipedia would be helpful.
Did milk sluttiness run in families? Was it a genetic need or burden or weakness?
Fuck. Journee hoped she wasn’t a milk slut. But now she had some doubts. She was so fucking turned on. Drinking down half a gallon of tit milk at one sitting – one laying – and on the edge of orgasm during it sure seemed like a milk slut activity.
Where the fuck did Rhone go to? That black girl should be licking Journee’s white pussy!
There was only one thing Journee could do. Drain this fourth tit of all its milk!
It had so much. Did it make milk nearly as fast as she drank it?
Journee swore her stomach couldn’t take much more. There was a waiting line of milk rising up her esophagus. Her tummy ached and her pussy ached in a different way. It ached with heat that needed satisfaction. She felt so wet down there, she thought she might be dripping. She’d never felt so wet. It was like her pussy was lactating!
After another ten minutes of yearning and sucking, Journee finally drained Pindpo’s second tit.
She’d done it. Barely. She felt like she might burst. She wasn’t sure what she needed to do more urgently, orgasm or pee. She didn’t know which one she’d choose if she was allowed to choose.
The answer, in the short term, was neither.