They filed into the barn in a straight line. Each step slow and plodding. Their minds ran sluggish from the cocktail of drugs that left them pliant, horny, and dim witted.
Each found his station and waiting for Mr. Brawn to bind them in place. 631 was farther along than the others, he needily humped at the air, groaned from the ache in his balls.
Once bound in place, each rigid youth was attached to the milking machine. Soon the dimly lit barn thrummed with the rhythmic cycles of the mechanism. The device was noisy but not enough to drown out the chorus of groans, moans, and sudden intakes of breath.
629 came in brief spurts that caused his whole body to shudder. Then he’d whimper as the process began anew. 630 was much more sensitive, which made his climaxes take longer to produce. A frustrating ordeal that left him gasping for air in tiny breaths. 631 was a faucet from the moment he was attached to the machine - just one mind-jarring continuous climax.
There were others in the barn, many others. An entire herd. Sub-human creatures whose entire purpose revolved around this machine, climaxing, and waiting to do it all again that night.
***
Shadows may be too dark. I wanted it to look like the light source is a lantern.
There’s some flaws, but overall it came out nice. Started drawing yesterday. Today was just coloring.


