Milked for Information

And with a girlish giggle, the holstaur scooched up even further. Oriole's eyes widened and heart stopped as her plump, perfect, luscious ass was set down right in the middle of his lap, pinning his rising cock beneath.

"There!" She winked. "I've moved. Is that better, sweetie?"

He stared up at her, lips parting but no sound coming out—because with all his might he was holding back the cry of unwanted bliss.

And in his state of utter shock, he heard Jallzi's sultry purr reach his ear. "Typical man. Always thinking with what's between his legs. Well, now you're done for, aren't you?"

"I—" He shook his head weakly. " 'm... fine..."

The goblin's musical giggle cut through his composure like butter left out in the hot sun. "Okay, handsome," she cooed, and he felt his cheeks glowing like embers, oh, gods, why did she suddenly sound so sexy— "Since you're fine, I guess that means you're ready for the next question?"

"Now, now, Jallzi," Heather cut in sweetly, and he felt his eyes helplessly drawn back to hers... and down to her hand, to her long nail as her fingertip drew slow, sloping, lazy spirals around her right nipple... "there's no hurry."

She wriggled playfully, positively wringing a soft cry from his panting mouth.

"Oh, listen to that." Jallzi kissed him on the neck. "Poor boy. So far out of your element."

"N-Nuh..." He tried to shake his head, but found his head only wobbled in time with Heather's slowly swaying tits. They seemed to bounce up into the air, defying all mortal law, with every little wiggle of her hot body atop him.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Jallzi." Heather beamed down at him, and her smile bathed him in sunlight even as his world seemed to grow darker the closer those tits swung. "I think this is exactly where he belongs."

"Oh?" Jallzi's lips tickled his ear, He choked back a whimper, realizing that all the venom had left the goblin's voice now. She wasn't even trying to fluster him anymore. She was just... enjoying this. The thought made another whimper slip out before he could stop it. "Is that right? Is this where a horny, tits-dumb bull belongs?"

"N-Nooooh," he gasped, his unconvincing protest melting into a helpless moan as Heather gave her plump, luscious ass another merciless wriggle. He stared up helplessly, struggling with all his might to keep some semblance of composure as he realized how deeply wretched he must look—fully clothed, barely even tied up, nothing having been done to him but a pretty girl deciding to sit in his lap, and yet whimpering and squirming like someone who'd never even seen a pretty girl before.

Heather giggled. "Ooh, you see, Jallzi?" She leaned in close, and his eyes fell down, almost immediately, back to her swinging tits. She seemed to sway from side to side, even, drawing out the motion in a sluggish pendulum lullaby. "I think he's so, so happy here, isn't he?"

He shook his head weakly. "I... I'm g-guh...."

"Maybe," Jallzi said skeptically. Her hand slipped between them, giving his cock a wicked squeeze through his pants, her nimble fingers—oh, gods, how had he never noticed how terrifyingly nimble goblin fingers could be, how many exquisite, delicious uses they could be put to?—and drew another feeble moan from his quivering lips. "But surely he'd rather we move on to the next question." Her voice dropped to a husky, sibilant purr as her lips grazed his ear, and she gave his earlobe a playful little nibble. "Before he makes any more of a fool of himself."

"Ooh." Heather pouted, though he barely registered the expression when her eyes were so very far from her breasts, and her breasts were just continuing to swing, jiggle, barely contained and barely out of his reach. The sweet, nutmeg-tinged scent of her milk hung around him thicker than the deepest fog, and twice as blinding. He couldn't breathe anything that wasn't her. He couldn't think of anything that wasn't... wasn't... "But he seems to be enjoying himself, Jallzi." She giggled. "Perhaps we should ask him?"

"As if he'd have anything useful to say," Jallzi teased in his ear. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the forbidden thrill at this pretty girl—this gorgeous goblin—this wicked temptress—this breathtaking, overwhelmingly beautiful scoundrel—the forbidden thrill her voice was starting to fill his treacherous heart with. Gods, why did she have to be so close? And why couldn't she just go back to insulting him the normal way? "A silly, horny boy like this? He'll be a cum-dumb stud in minutes, you know."

"N-No," he whispered, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. Gods, even that motion took all his energy. He only found the strength by managing to time the shaking of his head with the steady, rhythmic swaying of those massive... milky... thought-melting...

"No?" Heather beamed. She reached up and, to his mix of horror and unspeakable delight, cupped her breasts for him. They positively seemed to glow, and it was like an invisible spiral was drawing Oriole's thoughts deeper and deeper, as his eyes greedily lost his gaze into her endless cleavage, and the thought of burying his face between those tits... of burying his face against one, even, and feeling the pert nipple through the ever-so-thin cloth, and opening his dry lips, and allowing the tiniest of...

"No," he whispered. He had to rally all of his failing strength to do so. Nothing had ever been so unbelievably difficult as forcing himself to shake his head against the flow of the pendulums. He forced his gaze, then, to meet hers, and swallowed drily as he found himself staring into bottomless wells of hazel adoration. "I... I, um..."

"You don't want to be kept here?" Heather cooed. She wriggled again for emphasis, and his cock positively sung her praises through his whole body, his poor, stupid, imprisoned cock...

"Poor stupid cock," he realized Jallzi was whispering in his ear, her fingers stroking along his leg, "poor, stupid, brainless cock is making aaaall this silly boy's decisions now. Just like any boy. All boys are controlled by their yummy bullcocks, and it's a pretty girl's job to control those cocks and keep them in line." She kissed him on the cheek, then added, as sweet as thick, weighty molasses, "Doesn't that sound wonderful, sweetie?"

He trembled, staring into Heather's eyes. It was like every swing of those breasts presented another weight atop his head, another penny pushing his thoughts down, down, down. He struggled to resist it. He couldn't give in so easily! He cleared his throat. "N-No," he whispered, and though his struggle felt like it took unspeakable strength, his voice had never sounded so weak, so fragile. "I... um..."

"You don't want me to keep doing this?" Heather cooed, and giggled as she wriggled her rear, grinding against his captive shaft. Her ass was so soft. So plush. So perfect for bringing men like him to their knees... or for keeping them seated, he supposed numbly, as moans slipped from his lips like sugar from a cracking jar. "Isn't this nice, sweetie? Doesn't a boy's silly cock neeeed this?"

He quivered, struggling for words. Her eyes were so deep, so beautiful, so breathtaking. If only he could lose himself in those eyes, and not be dragged constantly, tugged so very gently down, down, down...

All it would take would be a glimpse, he told himself, and he'd be free from those hypnotic eyes. Just a little look downward. Just a little glance towards the bottom, towards the bottom of the well that was his mind, to the thing every single primordial rooted impulse in his brain longed desperately to lose itself within...

"Aww, of course it does!" Jallzi purred, and kissed him again. He caught his breath. Oh, gods, that was... that was so nice. So very nice. So wonderful. He wanted another kiss from her.

He wanted another kiss from Jallzi.

"Of course it sounds sooo nice," the goblin cooed, so sweet, so innocent, as if she hadn't mere minutes ago been insulting and threatening him, as if she'd always loved him, as if he'd always loved her—"so nice to be a good boy, a good horny boy, and just sit there and let a pretty girl give him a nice, long lapdance." Her long tongue ran up his neck, and he squirmed, flushing at the strange but delightful sensation.

"Aww." Heather bounced. His heart raised. "Is that true, sweetie? Is that what a boy wants? Is that all a boy wants?"

"N-Not... a boy..." he managed, somehow, as her eyes seemed to spiral, seemed to reflect his own trapped gaze. "I'm... I'm..."

"A man, yes." She giggled and nodded encouragingly. "I'm sorry, sweetie. You know what we mean."

He bit his lip. He did know.

"We jus' mean you're weak," Jallzi said helpfully, kissing him again, and a part of him fluttered with delight at her sweet, soft lips smacking against his cheek so daintily, so lovingly, "and helpless, and ready to be taken care of. A good boy!"

"A good boy," Heather agreed, smiling. Her eyes made his thoughts squirm, as surely as if she held them in her soft, gentle grasp. As if she was taking his thoughts and drawing them down lower, lower, guiding them to slip down between her breasts so she could bounce and squish and squeeze them into eager, needy submission. "And isn't it so nice to be—"

"N-No!" he burst out, and it was like a horrid weight was lifted as he managed to speak the word clearly. He stared up helplessly at Heather, feeling the world around him appearing to spin. "I-I... I mean, I..."

Heather beamed and patted his head condescendingly. "Next question, sweetie?"

He hesitated.

"Y-Yes, please," he whispered.

Gods. What a fool he was making of himself. He just... he comforted himself miserably with the fact that he hadn't betrayed his contact yet. In fact, he hadn't told them anything. Anything... important, anyways. He just needed to stay strong. But so far, he was doing fine.

He was doing fine, he told himself. He was resisting. But inviting her to go back to interrogating him... it still felt foolhardy.

She stopped squirming. Her smile was gentle, loving, even. Her voice was silky, smooth, soothing. "Second question. Are you thirsty, sweetie?"

He blinked. "... w-what?"

She batted her eyelashes. "Are you thirsty, sweetie?" she asked, tickling under his chin until he squirmed away. "You seem..." Her hand climbed up and gave one tit a slow, languorous squeeze. "... thirsty." Her voice broke with pleasure on the last note.

His breath caught.

When... when was the actual interrogation going to start, he wondered, staring hopelessly at her perfect, enticing rack. He licked his lips without even thinking.

And this made Jallzi laugh. She kissed him on the cheek, and he flushed as she cooed, "Aw, looks like he is! You just need to admit it, honey."

"I..." His voice sounded so soft. So weak. So unsure of himself. "I-I don't..."

"Jus' admit it," Jallzi purred. Heather had moved off his lap slightly, though she was still tantalizingly close, but Oriole's eyes widened as he felt Jallzi's nimble fingers return to his crotch. "We can all see it. We can all see what a thirsty, milk-dumb titslave you are."

"B-But I—"

"Shh. Shh." Jallzi giggled. "It's okay! I know boys can't help it. Don't worry. Heather isn't mad." Her voice was so gentle, so seductive, Oriole hated the twinge of relief that flowed through him. She sounded so reassuring, and it felt so... so safe...

"Of course I'm not mad!" Heather cooed. She bounced her breasts together, giggling—and her eyelids fluttered as a small sigh of pleasure slipped from those pretty pink lips of hers. "O-Oh, I... I know how neglected a boy like you must be."

"B-But..." He shook his head slightly, his words squished away as the holstaur pushed her big, soft breasts together again and let them bounce.

"It's okay," Heather sang, almost in a lullaby in time with her fondling. "It's... sooo okay, a-actually..."

"Look at her," Jallzi hissed, kissing his neck tenderly. "A cute boy like you belongs with her right now. Poor thing 's dripping!"

The sweet scent was flooding the air again, flooding Oriole's mind, and everything seemed so sloshy and foggy to him as he stared numbly, needily...

"Just... admit it..." Heather whispered. Her own voice quavered with lust. "Boys are always thirsty. And y-you... oh, poor thing, how long have you gone pretending y-you weren't?"

"A loooong time," Jallzi purred, giving his cock a gentle, teasing little squeeze that made him jump. "I knew you were holding something back. He loves your tits, Heather."

"Aww..." Heather gave him a dizzy, dreamy smile. "Is that so? Are you thirsty, sweetie?"

"I-I—" Don't. Don't you dare say it. His mind was reeling as he watched the breasts squish, smoosh, bounce, drip... as he breathed in the sweet, sweet smell of her addictive cream...

"Poor thing!" Jallzi kissed him again. His head spun from her kisses. Her hand pumped him. "Just admit it. Just admit you looove her tits. Boys always do."

"Boys always do," Heather echoed in singsong.

"You want a taste," Jallzi purred.

"You need a taste," Heather cooed.

Bounce-bounce-bounce. Squish-squish-squish. He panted, struggling with all his might.

I need a taste.

I need a taste.

The hand pumped him, edged him. He whimpered.

I want a taste.

"Are you thirsty, sweetie?" Heather cooed

What harm could it do?

"Yes!" he mewled, squirming helplessly beneath her. "J-Just—just a—"

And suddenly her top had melted away, and he was being pressed by Jallzi right into the holstaur's massive cleavage. He moaned in surprise, struggling—

And then he felt a nipple. A droplet of sweet, spiced holstaur cream hit his tongue, and sparkles of delight raced through him.

And then Heather's arms were wrapped around him, and Jallzi's hand was pumping, and he was moaning as he latched onto the nipple and a steady flow of cream entered his needy mouth.

It was... pleasure indescribable. His thoughts, formerly so disoriented, so dizzy and panicked, suddenly found themselves in the midst of a vast ocean of cream.

Drifting. Slowly. Ever-so-slowly.

He drifted deeper and sucked more greedily. The edging wasn't so bad anymore. It was... nice. Calming.

Everything was so calming. He pressed against the soft titflesh, head swimming with her scent, her taste, her touch. Everything was so safe.

Heather cooed softly, and he could hear it in her voice, feel it in the way the holstaur trembled with liquid relief. She'd been so full of milk. So desperate to be milked.

He happily switched to the other nipple and sank into the breast when directed. It wasn't even an interruption, for the few seconds he spent without her nipple in his mouth were spent swimming in the afterglow of the mind-melting delicacy, and then before it could wear off, he was right back to sucking obediently.

He suckled like a... like a...

"Good boy," Heather cooed, stroking his hair. He whimpered at the praise, squirming slightly. No. No, he was... he wasn't... The pumping of his cock sped up, and so did his nursing, and his thoughts got even slower. Sluggish. Edge-dumb.

"Good sleepy boy," Heather continued, giggling as his struggles faded. He bathed in the praise, in that wonderful phrase. Good sleepy boy. Good sleepy boy. He knew something about this had to be wrong, but it felt so perfect, so pure, so sweet...

... surely, a tiny part of him whispered ever-so-sweetly in his mind, this was where all men belonged.

"Okay," he dimly heard Jallzi murmur, her voice laced with the venomous triumph she had barely bothered to conceal this whole time, "ready for the third question, 'sweetie'?"

THE END?

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Nicole's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Please do leave let me know if you'd like this story to continue—it was a little commission from the ever-wonderful Carol_J! Feedback is always welcome!