Forced Lactation Stories With Pictures

[joetex]

The Thai terrorists were eager to take Jane into custody.  As they surveyed the competing prospects, Jane was clearly the favorite.  The photos taken of her and her fellow nursing female western tourists were widely circulated within the underground networks of mother’s milk marketers.  With her jutting, rounded breasts seemed to cry out to be milked, Jane was the unanimous choice of the underworld.   

The aroused men were eager to see her mammary charms stripped and bared, fantasizing over how her nipples would react to being stimulated and abused.  They were also left to speculate over the taste of her milk.  Several wealthy customers had never partaken of the milk of a white woman, much less that of a Brit.  They clamored to drink the private secretions of a British woman, savoring over the symbolism of being able to steal this precious “mother’s milk”  from Britain as retribution for the evils of the British empire inflicted upon the peoples of Asia and Africa.   

Jane’s abduction and kidnapping was actually quite simple.  She was monitored daily, and her would- be captors knew that each morning she would take an early morning jog outside her hotel , an effort to find some individual solace early in the day.  Her route was always the same, past a row of apartment buildings, and down a narrow alleyway.

Jane predictably ran down the alleyway followed by three Thai assailants.  They subsequently overtook her, and a brief scuffle ensued. But a choroform-soaked rag over her face ceased the struggle.  A van swiftly materialized toreceive the snatched cargo, and sped off into the early morning dawn.  Jane’s new life of humiliation and degradation had just begun.   

Blindfolded and unconscious during her journey, Jane was unaware where her assailants were destined.  When the van ultimately came to a halt on the outskirts of Bangkok, it was at the terrorists’ hideaway in a local village.  Jane’s prostrate body was lifted from the auto, and swiftly dispatched into a reinforced and fortified underground structure that resembled a dungeon.  There was no chance of authorities being able to find her.

[joetex]

Her abductors threw water on her face to arouse her to consciousness.  Initially groggy, she soon became aware of her inability to see through her blindfold and felt her hands bound behind her.  Jane heard Asian male voices laughing and yelling in Thai, bewildered what would occur next. 

The Thai terrorists spared no time to appraise the assets which, in their estimation, would yield bounty. A pair of sturdy male hands grabbed her arms and lifted her upright.  She heard a voice in Thai-accented English:  “Stand still, British cow! If you value your life, you will obey every command!”

Her pink stylish pullover shirt was pulled out from her waistband.  She felt a knife at her shirt front, and felt it shred it down the middle.  The open sides were each pulled back over her shoulders and forearms.  Her nursing bra was all that preserved her modesty, and it was swelling up and down from Jane’s nervous, labored breathing.   She feared for her life, and began quietly weeping.

“Please, please don’t. . . I’m a mother.  Please don’t touch me”, she pleaded.

A disembodied voice answered:  “We know you are a mother.  That is why you are here”.     

Even while clothed in her brassiere, Jane was an erotic spectcacle to these young male Thai aggressors.  Caucasian women sported large breasts, they thought, certainly much larger than most Asian women, and the men were enjoying the private show Jane provided.  Her partial, forced disrobing provided a brief, momentary thrill for the men to fantasize over what her bare breasts would look like. Her western engorged mammaries with their large nipples were only moments away from being revealed.

Again Jane overheard the men cackling and hooting.  What little she understood of Thai, she comprehended that they were making obscene jokes about her anatomy.  She felt a pair of hands lightly touching both cups of her nursing bra, holding them in a gentle embrace.  Abruptly, she felt each hand unbuckle the flaps of each cup, and jerk them downward. 

[joetex]

Her breasts were now denuded, and her nipples suddenly became erect when exposed to the open air. The Thai kidnappers began yelling, laughing, and applauding.  Although deprived of  sight, Jane was deeply ashamed. More than being embarrassed, she felt degraded and humiliated at being forced to bare her milk-engorged breasts before the men of this foreign culture.  She could only surmise what deranged, perverse thoughts were running through their minds as they spied this deeply private offering that only a nursing women was capable of providing.

Eager  and urgent  voices began shouting: “Nam nom ! Nam  nom !”

Having talked with other nursing mothers in this country, Jane understood what this meant:  They were screaming breast milk. This left little doubt what they wanted from  her, and she braced herself.   

The Thai terrorists ordinarily evidenced strong discipline within their cell.  But this was such an unusual sight, the men yearned to touch or fondle their prized captive.  To these men who had never seen the distended breasts of a nursing western woman, Jane’s bared breasts appeared larger than life. They were majestically topped by wide, oversized, reddish brown areolas glistening with moisture, no doubt the result of engorgement caused by not being able to breastfeed for several hours while in transit.  Milk droplets were forming at the tip of each nipple. The men were fixated on these nubbins of nourishment, eager to see this western cow yield her sustenance to the half dozen members of this oppressed band.  Every one of them was thinking retribution:  all of them blamed their western oppressors for the economic and idelogical humiliation they have been forced to endure.  Thus, how fitting that this woman from the United Kingdom – who symbolized western oppression -- be forced to share her milk with these jihadists.  They were now perched to steal her precious mother’s milk, thereby depriving her western offspring of nourishment with which to perpetuate their oppression. 

Janes’s head raced with fear, anxiety, and dread.  Not being able to look her captors in the face along prolonged the stress of her captivity.  Should she try to reason with them?  Were they sufficiently educated to listen to reason?  She was resigned to being sexually molested, but were they also planning to kill her?  Fear made her grow short of breath.  Here breasts also ached from engorgement and she yearned for let down, but not in front of these foreign men.  The thought that they were witnessing them in this engorged state made her cringe from humiliation.  Only her husband and child had been permitted to see them unharnessed of their bindings.  Now these strange, angry, little Asian men were able to gawk at her intensely private milk-filled bosoms to feed their sick, unbridled sexual urges. Jane felt used and objectified by this degrading experience.

Jane’s anxiety over the uncertainty of her fate was not prolonged.  A thick, gruff voice in a heavy Thai accent barked:

“The English she-cow is ready. Prepare her udders.”   

Jane felt male hands beginning to touch both her sensitive breasts, and drew back in horror.

“Please don’t.  . I beg you.  As . . .as you can see, I’m. . . I’m nursing, and they’re . . . they hurt. . .they’re sensitive,” she pleaded in vain.

The voice answerred:

“You are British.  Your race and people have conquered and plundered those of us in smaller, undeveloped countries in Asia, forcing us to learn your language and worship your faiths. Now we are exacting our revenge. It is small compared to the massive harm your people and country have inflicted on us.   

“We have been monitoring you for some time.  We know you are a new mother, and know that you are in a unique physical condition that serves our purposes.  You will become our cow, and we will extract from you the milk you intend for your young.  Your Anglo-Saxon milk will become the food to fuel our revolution.”       

Jane was stunned at what she heard.  What she could not see beyond her blindfold were the two smiling terrorists who had been designated to begin the let down.  This meant that they were obliged to stimulate Jane’s breasts to yield her liquid treasure.  The best way was orally  Both men rubbed their hands together and looked at each other as though they had mutually won the lottery. It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it.

* * * * * * * * *

The Thai kidnappers looked at Jane's breasts and grew very aroused.  One of them in particular -- a small, dark-skinned, wiry fellow who was a survivor of leprosy named Tuk -- had patronized Thai bars featuring western strippers, and looked lustily on them for many years.  But he never had a chance to touch or have sex with a white woman.  With his fellow terrorists, he now had a voluptuous, topless white woman in front of him, and he was transfixed.  Jane's engorged breasts looked larger than life, with their exceedingly white bulbous appearance, textured with blue veins.  They appeared elongated, and hung from her chest almost to her navel.  They looked as though they were about to burst, and were hard, the result of lack of expression in several hours.  They were capped by huge, reddish brown areolas that are about four inches in circumference, with thick eraser-shaped nipples leaking milk.  Jane's heavy breathing -- no doubt from the fear engedered  by her entrapment -- made her breasts bob up and down.  Droplets formed on her nipple tips, and started to drip on to the floor.  A small puddle of milk formed at her feet.

Tuk could hardly believe his good fortune.  Jane's breasts looked like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked (or sucked!)  All his life he had wanted to touch and fondle the breasts of a white woman.  They looked nothing like the breasts of Thai women, which tended to be small,  dotted with tiny little black nipples.  Western breasts, on the other hand, were large and hung from the women's chests (or at least the way they appeared in Playboy magazine which he got from the US soldiers).  But these breasts before him were not those of a stripper or a centerfold model.  They belonged to a white professional woman and were entirely natural without aid of implants or other enhancement.  Also, this refined woman was nursing, which made her breasts special.  This meant that not only would he get to touch this forbidden fruit, he would be able to taste what nature intended them to provide: breast milk, and lots of it.  There was a saying he heard from the wealthy patrons who purchased the stolen breast milk from the Thai gang:  "The whiter the skin, the sweeter the milk."  He had long wanted to be able to taste western women's milk, but had had no prior opportunity.  However, since joining the terrorists recently, and discovering that they were trafficking in stolen breast milk, he yearned for that opportunity.  Now was his chance.

As he saw Jane's breasts leaking milk onto the floor, his initial impulse was to drop to the floor and try to lap it up, so eager was he to savor its flavor.  But he thought: what nonsense!  Better to drink from the source, and simultaneously feel the nipple in his mouth as it ejected pulses of warm stolen liquid nourishment into his mouth.  He stood poised, awaiting the signal from the gang's leader who had promised him that he would be the first to "taste" the bounty.

Jane was petrified.  After overhearing snippets of conversation, she realized that her breasts would become the object of sexual abuse.  Her precious mother's milk was about to be stolen from her.  Her nipples were erect, as though they were inviting the eager mouths to latch on.
 
Beneath his baggy shorts, Tuk could feel his own manhood starting to grow and elongate.  For a short, diminutive fellow, he sported a moderate sized penis.  But it was starting to harden and grow uncomfortable as he watched this half nude British woman squirm before him, her enlarged breasts swaying to and fro as she attempted to wrest her hands from the constricted bindings.  As her breasts involuntary leaked milk, so did Tuck's cock begin to dribble pre-cum.  His shorts were growing wet.  He wanted to fuck this white woman, but before that he wanted to fondle and suck on her turgid nipples.

He heard the gang leader call out his name and give the sign that they were ready to begin the proceedings.  The goal was to start the process of let down, so that Jane's milk would begin to flow consistently so that the marketable white liquid could be captured and stored for shipment to the wealthy customers.  This meant that Tuk and his fellow Thai assailants were to stimulate Jane's engorged breasts so that human physiology and reflex would take over.

Because the leader's instructions were in English (albeit poor quality), Jane overheard every word.  She couldn't believe that she would be the victim of such barbaric practices.  Although desperately needing letdown to relieve her of engorgement, she hardly would seek to cooperate in this ritualistic humiliation of her body.

"Please, please. . . . don't touch my breasts!!  My milk is my personal possession, intended for my baby!!", she screamed.  But there was no sympathy in the room.  The men were determined to mine this woman for her valuable liquid, and enjoy the process of extraction.

Tuk approached Jane and looked down on her breasts, encased in a nursing bra, but opened at the flaps for all to see her twin beauties and large areola.  He kneeled down before her and stared directly at her right breast.  It looked vulnerable and full, brimming with mother's milk.  With one hand, he reached up and placed the palm squarely at the tip of her breast until it barely grazed the nipple.  He then proceeded to rub the nipple gently with the flat of his hand.  The nipple felt stiff but rubbery.  He felt moisture on his palm, no doubt it being the milk being secreted from the nipple tip.  He looked at his palm and could see milk.  He stuck out his tongue and licked it off his hand.

Yes, the milk tasted sweet, just as the wealthy customers  had predicted.  He expected no less. This was a prominent professional British woman, who had all the benefits of good breeding, fine health maintenance, and a high protein western diet.  That she would now be giving up sweet, rich milk to her offspring would be no surprise.  Her young would benefit from her high living standards, and be able to grow from the rich nutrients contained in her milk.  Tuk, on the other hand, grew up impoverished.  He ate a substandard diet, and never know the benefits from good health care and an adequate diet.  But now was the time to make up for his losses.  If he could not enjoy the health benefits of a mother who provided adequate milk to grow him to a prosperous adulthood, neither would the offspring of this white woman from the United Kingdom.  His mission today was to make sure that her milk would either become his, or that of the customers to whom they would sell it

He placed his mouth over her areola and latched on.  Jane gasped, feeling the invasion on her sensitive breast.

 "Ah, Ah,. . Please don't, please stop,  I beg you. . . ooooh!!"

But it was too little, too late.  Tuk felt the nipple firmly in his mouth, and began flicking his tongue against it.  Then he began sucking gently.  Simultaneously, he took both hands and wrapped them around the breast, manually pressing the exterior around the areola as though he were trying to depress a balloon.  Tuk hoped that his manual manipulations would facilitate the movement of milk out the nipple.

And facilitate it he did.  First a small trickle could be felt in his mouth, then a small stream.  His mouth began to fill with the precious white liquid, and he pulled away suddenly.  Looking down at the nipple, he could see that a fairly constant stream was beginning to dribble from the breast.  Savoring the taste of Jane's milk for as long as he could, Tuk then gulped the mouthful he had just drawn.  He licked his lips as though to savor the remaining flavor of her motherly essence.  He felt enormously empowered.  Just as he and his people had suffered at the hands of westerners for these many years, he was now getting his revenge.  When Thailand began opening up to large hordes of western tourists, they would see him on the street and look beyond him as though he were an insect.  He was small and diseased ridden, begging for coins.  The women especially, with their fancy designer clothes and expensive handbags, would lift their noses as they passed.  He also hated the women with their families in tow, and the new mothers pushing their baby strollers as they and their beautiful motherly bosoms were beyond approach.  He despised these woman in particular since they regarded him as garbage to keep away from them and their precious offspring. He dared not come close to these mothers for fear of angering the local authorities who no doubt would arrest him for bothering these western women.

When he first saw the photos of Jane strolling on the plaza with her tight form-fitting shirt barely concealing her engorged breasts, he knew he must be among the first of their gang to suck from her udders, partake of her milk, and teach her a lesson in humility.  He had just done so.  Now her milk was his.  He had tasted her precious liquid intended for a future generation of Brits, and felt that he had just grown stronger at her expense.  She would now be forced to feed others, and make them grow strong.  They would continue to feed off her milk until the infidel western powers were defeated by he and his Islamic brothers.   

He began suckling, while flicking his tongue against  distended nipple.  Emitting a wail,  Jane tilted her head backwards, helpless against the invasion of her body.  Her sensations were relief from feeling milk being slowly drawn out of her painfully engorged breast, but eclipsed by the deep shame and humiliation from having this personal part of her motherly persona forcefully taken from her.  Her precious mother’s milk, that part of her motherhood kept in reserve for her baby, was now being consumed by this dangerous Asian terrorist for his twisted erotic pleasure.   Jane thought to herself: How did Jane Harper-Watson, accomplished professional, and caring new mom, find herself in this cesspool from Hell?

[joetex]

Jane was quietly weeping.  Her breasts felt vulnerable, with the right one just having just been sucked on by this stranger, and continued to leak.  She was embarrassed, degraded, and felt ashamed.  No longer the strong-willed professional used to getting her way with men (and women), she felt like she was nothing more than a mere receptacle of milk to be abused by these  little dirty Asian men.This suckling and tasting of the milk left Tuk deeply aroused.  He wanted to have sex with this woman but knew that now was not the time.  His fellow gangmembers would prevent him from doing so since they needed to extract the milk right now.  But he continued to conceive of a way he could find sexual relief.  Looking at her large, engorged breasts, he thought:  "Perhaps they might be useful for relieving me of my stiffening erection.  Hmmmmm." 

In the meantime, Tuk took a step back to watch as another Thai terrorist named Chai Son (which means “mischievous boy” in Thai) seized Jane’s left breast to stimulate it to milk production.  Instead of being gentle like Tuk, Chai Son lived up to his name and grabbed it harshly with both hands and began fondling it on the sides.

“Ahhh!!  Ahh!! Ahh!! PLEASE STOP!!  PLEASE!! Ahh!!, shouted Jane abruptly.

As her engorged breast was full of milk and hard to the touch, Chai Son’s sudden groping and harsh fondling sent shock waves of pain through her breast and outer chest wall.  But Chai Son was a sadist, and Jane’s protestations only made him more aroused.  Wanting Jane to witness what was happening to her, he removed her blindfold (engendering the wrath of his fellow terrorist cell members).  Jane shook off her dazed look as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the sudden light.  Around her, she saw a half dozen or so men standing around her in different stages of dress.  Some wore street clothes, while others were stripped down to their briefs.  The one in front of her was rather rotund, with a round face and salicious look.  Jane was fearful of what was gong through his mind.

“White missy, you like?  You like Chai Son play with your big mommy titty?”, he mockingly inquired as he continued to slowly squeeze her left breast.  “Chai Son want milk.  White missy make milk for Chai Son?” 

He took his thumb and  forefinger and pinched her nipple, making it excrete a small droplet of milk.

“Ahhh. . . .Ahhh. . !”, Jane responded.

Chai Son laughed.  He enjoyed toying with this infidel white whore, and making her flinch as he played with her udders.

Jane was mortified and humiliated in having to speak to him, particularly about such a delicate subject.  But she marshalled up her courage to talk.  First taking a couple of deep breaths, she replied slowly but methodically:

“I’m a nursing mother, and as you can see my breasts are . . . . full and hurting.  You’re hurting me.  My . . . . . my milk. . . . .it’s not for you to. . . . drink.  It’s for my son.  He’s 10 months old and he needs my milk.  Please let me go.”   

“No, no, no.  You not go anywhere.  You let Chai Son play with titty and make much milk.”, he discouragingly replied.

With that, he leaned over her breast, opened his mounth widely, and squarely placed it atop her wide areola.  He began drawing on her nipple with as much suction he could muster, making loud suckling sounds that reverberated throughout the terrorists’ hideaway. 

Ohhhh!!Ohhhh!  Please stop. . . your. . . your mouth. . . .the sucking. . . it’s making me . . . ohhhh. . . ohhhh,. . . dear God. . . .hurt!!”, Jane cried in vain.

The rigor of Chai Son’s  harsh suckling made Jane felt as though he were about to suck her nipple from her breast.  Pain coupled with pleasure coursed through her breast.  While the mouth of the terrorist was not gentle and his teeth played with the tip of her nipple, there was little question but that his suckling was making her moist with pleasure in her vaginal region.  Her vulva was electric and tingling, and she tried vainly to put it out of her mind.   The milk being released from her breast was cathartic, and the relief Jane felt was palpable.

The other terrorists began to grow concerned with Chai Son’s prolonged sucking from Jane’s breast.  His role was to “prime” her breast for ultimate milk production that would be pumped.  Instead, Chai Son appeared determined to suck and consume most of the vaaluable milk for himself.  The others began hollering at him.  Getting the message, he lifted his mouth off of the breast, looked around with a grin, and announced:  “Missy now ready for milking.”  He dropped the breast and walked back with no further prompting.

Jane was now ready to be milked.  While she looked to and fro at the assemblage surronding her, she noticed that a what appeared to be a goat milking machine was being carried towards her by two of the men.  As they were assembling the various valves and tubes to be utilized, at that point, Tuk saw an opportunity to have some fun first, at Jane’s expense.  While he had witnessed Chai Son’s sucking spectacle, his fierce erection continue to pulse unabated.  He desperately needed to relieve himself of this swelling, sensitive tissue. 

On an impulse, he decided to drop his trousers and briefs, and kick them away form him.  Completely bottomless, Tuk approached this topless white whore with the leaking mammaries. He began stroking his growing manhood in front of her.  Jane looked at Tuk, first in the face, and then downward toward his erect cock.  She was in such as state of shock, she was speechless, although she was clearly panicked at the notion that she was about to be raped.  But she needn’t worry  -- her vagina was safe.  Tuk did not intend to rape her, at least not yet.  What he wanted was some immediate relief for his erection.Tuk decided that because his erection was caused by the sight of Jane’s nursing breasts, they were the perfect object to satisfy his immediate sexual urges.  He spat on his cock, and continued stroking it.  He lifted one hand to Jane’s shoulder and pushed downward, causing her to drop to her knees.  When his cock was level to her upper torso, he grabbed it by one hand and approached a breast.  Taking the tip of his cock, he began rubbing it on the surface of the wide areola, paying particular attention to the erect nipple bud which he “flicked’ with his cock tip. This persisted for around 30 seconds.  Ultimately, precum began to leak from his manhood, mixing it with milk droplets that were being stimulated by the stroking of his cock against the nipple tip.  Her entire areola began to glisten from the combined fluids of his cock and her breast.   He looked down with satisfaction at his handiwork, then glanced at his colleagues who were all fixated at this erotic display.  They all laughed and then applauded.       

As his erection became more moistened with Jane’s milk, he was able to utilize her precious fluid as a medium to lubicate his continued stroking of his manhood.  His hand strokes grew more rapid and vigorous, alternating between rubbing the cocktip on the nipple to replenish the milk lubricant.  Tuk started to breathe more heavily as it became apparent to all what he was attempting to do.  Jane stared wide-eyed at this masturbatory act being played out before her,  unable to halt it.  She was also breathing heavily, both from the erotic tactile sensations she felt from Tuk’s erection glancing off her nipple, and from the horror of being forced to participate in this obscene spectacle.

In vain, she tried to beseech Tuk from continuing:

“Please. . . please stop rubbing your. . . your. . . . . “.  She was unable to say cock or penis.

 “Stop rubbing it on my . . . my . . . . nipple.  This isn’t right.  My breast belongs to my baby.  He takes nourishment from that breast.  He can’t put his mouth. . . . . .” Overcome with emotion she couldn’t speak the words she needed to make her point.

 “He can’t suckle from me if you place . . . . your . . . . your. . . . pe-. . . penis there.” She finally said it.       

She momentarily closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to envision her infant nursing from this same breast, and the sensations of pleasure and eroticsm she felt during those tender moments.  Then she reopened them, only to see this erect penis of this small, dirty little Asian monster spreading his vile secretions over her areola.  She saw her milk commingling with his precum and became convinced that no amount of soap would ever be able to wash away the filth left on her tender breast.

But Tuk’s small precum emissions on her nipple were only a precursor.  Moments after Jane reopened her eyes, Tuk grimaced, and began shouting aloud in broken English to his colleagues:

 “Now! Now!  Watch me!  I squirt white whore udders with man seed!”

With his eyes tightly shut, Tuk’s cock began sprurting semen in two or three small jets over and across Jane’s breast, coating the nipple and areola in seminal fluid.  Jane felt the warm male liquid as it hit her sensitive nipple, and closed her eyes.  She was unable to witness her degradation.  She continued breathing heavily. After Tuk’s final emission was completed, he reopened his eyes to view his handiwork and slowed his breathing. He smiled as he viewed the splatters of his male fluid over the white whore udders.  Taking his spent cock by hand, he began sweeping it over Jane’s entire breast in an effort to spread his cum all over as much of her breast as possible, with emphasis on her areola. Like an animal in the jungle, he was marking his territory.  These udders are mine, he was saying, and not for the use and enjoyment of this white whore’s offspring.   

[Emma]

WoW!  That does look a lot nicer and the digital manipulation really ads to the story.  I wonder if stuff like that really happens...

[joetex]

Welcome back, Emma!

In answer to your question, folks such as tourists go missing all the time in that part of the world, many of them women.  Whether the activities I am describing actually occur, I leave to you (and my) imagination. . . .

Contentwise, what do you think of my storyline so far?  It's about to get a little more twisted. 

[Sprayman]

Don't know what Emma will say - but I say twisted is good.
Very twisted is better!
Horribly twisted - - wonderful!


(actually, I think Emma will agree)

[mothbrad]

This story is really coming along beautifully - the pictures are a fine addition to it.

[shabbadew2002]

Joetex,
I think you have identified a very interesting niche`.  I, for one, don't think it's too "narrow". The "captive lactating female" thing is a situation with the potential for lots of sexual humiliation.  Nursing is an emotionally vulnerable time in a woman's life and the opportunity to place a lactating female in a punishing situation that turns her into a "cow" is hot...very hot.  I enjoyed your stories, both the illustrated one set in Thailand and "African Retribution".  Good stuff....keep writing...

[joetex]

Joetex,
I think you have identified a very interesting niche`.  I, for one, don't think it's too "narrow". The "captive lactating female" thing is a situation with the potential for lots of sexual humiliation.  Nursing is an emotionally vulnerable time in a woman's life and the opportunity to place a lactating female in a punishing situation that turns her into a "cow" is hot...very hot.  I enjoyed your stories, both the illustrated one set in Thailand and "African Retribution".  Good stuff....keep writing...

Shabbadew,

What a coincidence!  Early this morning,  I just happened to be browsing through the new stories posted on RPP Stories today, and noticed "Apache Torture" and "Sister Suzanne".  I read them, and found them to be highly inspired and a definite cut above most of the works of this genre.  My reaction was that both these works were written by someone who was one of the best erotic writers I have been exposed to.  He or she took a great deal of time to set up the story backdrop, and understood the psychology of sexual humiliation, particularly from a woman's point of view.  However, I thought -- for some reason -- that the writer was a man (don't know why).  In any event, I googled your name and discovered your other works posted elsewhere.  I briefly read one of them, Incident in Mindanao, and was extremely aroused by the setting of the mother's denuding and sexual humiliation in front of her son.  Again, the writer's insight into the humiliation of the woman was the key, especially upon seeing her son being forced to reach a sexual climax.

This afternoon I was going to send you a personal email, asking you to read my story "African Retribution", and to get your response to my forced lactation and breast themes deeply woven into my stories. 

But you beat me to the punch!

I am absolutely delighted that you enjoyed African Retribution as well as my unfinished Thai story.  I am also delighted to discover that you are not a male, since I firmly believe that only a female author has insights into how a woman reacts to being tortured and humiliated in the stories I've best enjoyed.  Also, women are more detailed oriented in their writing and take the time for embellishment of thoughts to accompany actions.

Now. . to get to your comments about my stories.  Yes, I also agree with your views, especially the statement that:

"Nursing is an emotionally vulnerable time in a woman's life and the opportunity to place a lactating female in a punishing situation that turns her into a "cow" is hot...very hot."

I am not a woman, but I know a lot of women who have nursed.  My view -- as a male -- is that a nursing mother forced to yield her milk to hostile strangers is a unique and delicious form of sexual humiliation, especially because of her temporary vulnerability.  It takes advantage of a unique physical condition she happens to be in, and leverages this vulnerability into a set of horrors and degradation not found in other fantasy settings.  That is why I chose to use this theme in my stories.

I would like to go offline with you to bounce off some story concepts I'm currently working on.  I would also like to share with you why I enjoyed your stories, and why they hit all the right buttons for me.  If you don't mind sharing thoughts with someone who has a serious lactation/torture festish, I would love to chat. 

I will send you an email at you personal address.

I look forward to talking to you!

joetex   

[shabbadew2002]

Joetex,

Yes, I've enjoyed your stories, both finished & unfinished.  What you have tapped into is an poorly mined "mother lode" (excuse the terrible pun!) of humiliation & torment. I will be glad to discuss some ideas with you (email is my preferred mode for communication). 

I actually have a raw story idea that I think you would be just the one to develop.  Take a look at this news item I found from May 2007:

"........a restaurant that features dishes cooked with "mother's milk".  According to local newspapers, a restaurant in southern Hunan province has started offering dishes cooked with human breast milk. Two dishes were offered for the first time on 25 January, featuring abalone and perch. The eatery, in the provincial capital Changsha, is said to be hoping to expand to the town of Shenzhen - a booming economic zone, across the border from Hong Kong. It plans to offer a banquet featuring 108 dishes made with human milk, which would cost in the region of 280,000 yuan (US$33,000), one report said. The milk used so far is reported to have come from six peasant women who were still breastfeeding their children."

Imagine a plump, heavy-breasted American executive on a business trip in China. She's abducted by a local mob chieftain, with plans for her, who subjects her to torture (isolation, sensory deprivation, beatings, rape, sodomy) and forced milk production - I refer to the Newman-Goldfarb protocol, the process whereby a woman is simulated to a "hormonal pregnancy", by being given birth control pills, then fed Domperidone/Motilium, followed by an intense pumping regime as regular as a newborn's feeding schedule.  They torture her to make her a compliant slave and following this use an electric breast pump on her to make her lactate; finally they use her as a "milk cow" to supply a restaurant the mob controls that sells dishes made from "mother's milk"!  Of course, she is continually abused sexually and emotionally in addition to being milked twice a day. Especially if she isn't a "good" slave or doesn't produce enough milk.  Isn't that a delicious idea?  Just my two cents...

Thank you for your kind words about my stories.  I'm glad you liked "Incident in Mindanao".  That story and "Perla & Benito" were written after I had seen a review written on bdsm.com by a young man from Italy who was particularly fixated on this fantasy.  His intense focus on both the mother and the son's sense of horror and shame was so palpable to me, that I wrote those two stories. I really got into the psychological torment of a mother being forced into a succession of humiliations and then tortured in front of her own son. I have since corresponded with him about this fascination.

My best story may be "Ordeals of Kazumi & Chiyoko".  Men seem to like it best when my victims are only 19, voluptuous and Asian.  Respond here or email me.
Shab

[Dr_BuzzCzar]

 http://fetish-members.com/free/bdsm/infernalrestraints/cherry-bondage/pics/pic_11.jpg

interesting photo I came across in my wanderings.

[joetex]

Thanks for the great photo!  Here are some more on the same theme: milking and forced lactation.  Enjoy.

[ironcowboy]

I love your stories, please continue. Lactation and rape is a real turn on for me. Here are some pics. Send me a private message with some of your other stories. Thanks.

[joetex]

Great photos!!  Here's some more.  Check your private messages, and let's talk.