The Travels Of A Nymphomaniac 27 A Fascinating Show. Part1

He just told him that he had to prepare her for milking, but isn't that a little over the top? The Viscount looks stunned as his old friend vigorously pulls at Rhea's two swollen nipples whose facial expression, increasingly distorted by pleasure, makes her unrecognizable.

He looks at him in amazement, grasping the tips of his future wife's nipples became huge and shall be at least 1.5 inches in length. His good friend, doesn't seem to be satisfied with these two nipples yet, as he leans back and further relaxes the two udders of his beautiful future wife, who is emitting strange growls.

Viscount fearing that Rhea's b.r.e.a.s.t.s will be permanently deformed, his hand goes towards the Baron's shoulder to warn him to stop tormenting this beauty that in his head, is already his, but strangely enough, his arm refuses to obey him.

In the face of this battered body, he should protest, even get angry, and yet, in front of this strangely fascinating spectacle, more exciting than anything he has witnessed so far, under the delicate hand of his friend's wife who never stops w.a.n.king him, he feels a wave of pleasure rising in him and his c.o.c.k, already stretched to the extreme and always out of his pants, contracts and then releases an intense spurt of s.e.m.e.n that ends up on the sweat-soaked belly of his Rhea.

Empty b.a.l.l.s are synonymous with a clearer mind, and following this adage as old as the world handed down through the generations, the Viscount now focuses his attention on the small hole left by the syringe in the centre of Rhea's nipples, from which more and more of this white liquid escapes, whose smell recognizable in a thousand surprises once again the tall man with protruding muscles.

"Baron, how can my Rhea produce milk? Could it be that she is pregnant and I didn't know?"

…

The Baron, who presses between his thumbs and index fingers the two almost burgundy nipples of Rhea, smiles gently before such candor.

His good friend is certainly a valiant warrior in whom the King has extreme confidence, but his knowledge of s.e.x and how to make evenings in the company of women more entertaining is very limited.

"Rest a.s.sured my friend, your beautiful Rhea is certainly not pregnant. At least, I hope so for you, or soon you will find yourself with an annoying little noisy b.a.s.t.a.r.d on your hands. No, the reason why I can start milking her huge udders is quite different.

I don't know if you keep up with the progress our researchers are making, but they have found that in Humans, Orcs or even animals of various species, apart from those that lay eggs, when any female has to give birth, regardless of her species, she starts to produce milk in abundance.

Based on this observation, our researchers have found in the female what they rightly call the 'mammary gland'. I don't know much about this, but I do know that these 'mammary glands' are the parts of the body that produce milk for the unborn baby.

So it was not long before the scientists who develop products and drugs for the pleasure of the flesh, developed this liquid which I injected into the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of your future wife.

This chemical compound, the elaboration of which I know nothing about, merely deceives the body into which it is introduced. Believing that it contains a child about to be born in it, the body commands the 'mammary glands' into which the product has been injected to secrete an abundance of milk and:

See the result. Look at the beauty of these two enormous udders which, with each pa.s.sing second, offer us a little more of their so nouris.h.i.+ng liquid...

Leaving these sublime udders out of his eyes for a second, the Baron turns to his young maid whose eyes are directed towards the ground.

"You, useless girl, can't you see these udders are ready for milking? Yes? so what are you waiting for to bring me the metal overpressure rings. One second! Have you thought about connecting the milking machine to our milk tank?"

The young brown maid, fearing to be hit, steps back out of habit and shakes her head timidly.

"Yes, my lord may collect mademoiselle's milk whenever he wishes."

"And the metal overpressure rings, I have to go get them myself."

The young maid runs to a small chest of drawers near the armchairs in which the three n.o.bles were recently sitting and just as quickly, she returns to the Baron.

Nearly carefully, her little hands stretched out towards the Baron, present him with a small dark blue satin box.

"Here are the metal overpressure rings, my Lord."