You said with a chuckle as you smacked my ass, right on the brand tattoo that marked me as yours and jingling the bell collar around my neck. You drive me up the small ramp onto the milking stand with a few more encouraging smacks. I put my head through the stanchion and let out a long moo. My udder swings under me as I get into position. "Attagirl," you coo at me as you lock the stanchion around my neck, securing me in place. You pulled up a stool and got to work, wiping my udders clean with a cloth and sanitizing them. You wheeled over the milking machine. I mooed excitedly in the stand as you grabbed one cup and attached it to one of my teats, a firm vacuum holding it to my tit. "I know girl, you always love this part," you grinned as you attached the other cup to my other teat. The machine made a rhythmic and steady pumping sound as the vacuum cups drew streams of milk from my udders, sucking them through the hose and flowing them into a collection container. The milking was going smoothly, until the machine sputtered and the cups lost suction on my tits, dropping unceremoniously to the stand, my udders leaked droplets of milk, the teats firm and perky in the crisp barn air. You sighed, moving the broken machine to the side and fetching a small metal pail.

"Looks like we're doing this the old fashioned way, my good girl." You pat my thigh to soothe me as you slide the pail under my hanging udders, "now just stay nice and still for me." I feel your hands wrap around both of my tits, you squeeze firmly, sliding your hand down slightly and working the soft pale flesh with your fingers. A slight simultaneous tug on each udder produced twin streams of milk that burst from my nipples, loudly striking the bottom of the milk bucket with a metallic hiss. Your start to milk in a rhythmic alternating fashion, squeezing and pulling both of my bags in turn, the milk climbed the pail as I reared my head back and cried out in pleasure and relief - MoooooOOOOOOoooooo!

"That's my baby, keep talking to me," you say my side, leaning over slightly, you point one udder towards your mouth and squeeze firmly. A forceful stream of milk comes out, your aim is a little off and a bit hits your chin before you right it and it reaches your mouth. The warm, creamy, silky, and sweet milk washes over your tongue and coats your lips. You let the stream go until it falters, you ease up on my udder and squeeze again for another long stream of the freshest milk you can get. You chuckle as continue milking into the bucket. "There really is nothing like milk straight from the cow."

My legs shake as I feel your fingers squeeeeeeeeze my teats, your rhythmic tugs continuing to fill the pail with my milk. "Alright girl, let's get this milkin' going," you say, stopping your milking of me to give my ass a firm smack before returning to my tits and pumping your cow girl for all she's worth.

• For fun, if this was a movie scene what song do you think would be playing during? What kind of shots do you think you'd see in the scene?
• I love when my farmers name me, so tell me what you'd name me if I was your cow.
• If you could choose anyone to help you milk your herd of cows, who would it be? Can be real or fictional. Could be a celeb. Let me know!
• I'm maybe a little milking obsessed, but let me know if you've ever milked a cow or goat or something irl, it's always exciting to read about!
• Also up for just chat, I have plenty of dreams and fantasies about this kind of stuff!