Milking Clinic Chronicles

She doesn't sugarcoat it. Boys exist to give up cum, nothing more. She calls them cattle and acts like it too. Today she has one strapped down, cock trapped flat against a board. He says he can fill a bucket. She doubts it. Her fingers are small, pale, but every touch comes with the promise of hours spent taking him right to the edge and dragging him back. The restraint is simple and unforgiving. She leans in, breath warm, and starts slow. Each stroke is exact, measured, mean. She watches his face, listens to every broken sound, keeps the pressure perfect and never lets him finish. He strains. She smiles. The day is young and the board is going nowhere.