Chapter 1

Red-headed Molly and brunette Rachael are real, having been friends since junior school, all other characters and events in this story set in May 2019 are fictional.

Molly had celebrated her 16th birthday at a wild lesbian party on Valentine’s Day; Rachael was three months older but really submissive- always preferring to be tied up during childhood rough and tumble games.

Sex Education in this Erotic Literature Fantasy Land is highly problematic for teachers and students alike.

As the High School Human Biology Teacher, Ms Lizzy Jones has to ensure that only the 16-year-olds are allowed to talk about human reproduction and sexuality, promulgating the myth that all students remain virgins until that magic birthday.

The school’s policy included a complete ban on discussing puberty, self-exploration, masturbation, fornication, pregnancy, LGBTQ issues, pornography, sex outside of marriage, rape, consent, or sexual orientation with any student below the age of 16.

Unsurprisingly this led to a huge incidence of teenage pregnancy, STIs and sexual exploitation in the real world.

Lizzy’s own daughter Lisa was now on her third pregnancy since puberty, still not officially knowing what caused it, so was expelled from school again.

Ms Jones, the Human Biology and Sex Ed teacher had already exhausted all the legal material for her class, attended by 16-year-olds Molly and Rachael.

The exams were nearly over and most students would be leaving soon for the long summer holiday and then start at sixth form college.

Ms Jones planned one last day for her class to remember - a trip to the slightly obscure Mothers Milk farm. It had no website and no need for any advertising but was very well known by the local maternity units and a large number of satisfied private clients.

“Do we need to bring anything?” asked Molly, thinking Wellington boots for the mud.

“Just an open mind,” replied Ms Jones, “it will all become clear when we arrive.’’

Ms Jones collected the expectant group of students from the gates in the School Minibus and drove out into the Hampshire countryside.

Almost as soon as they had started, Rachael whipped out her smartphone and continued watching her favourite dark lesbian bondage video, sharing an earpiece with Molly. Being the sub in this relationship, Rachael had to hold the phone leaving Molly’s hands free to wander over her friend’s body, easing clothing aside - jumper pulled up above bare breasts and jeans down around her ankles.

All of the other girls on the minibus took this as a sign to strip off and start making out with the boy or girl in the next seat - very soon a line of bras and panties were hanging from the overhead luggage rack and the randiest 16-year olds sucking and fucking before Ms Jones driving had a chance to stop them.

Molly had two fingers inside her best friend’s slick pussy, regularly hitting the g-spot on the bumpy road - Rachael screamed as her orgasm coincided with the poor battered girl in the video soaking her female assailant from head to foot with squirt.

Turning off the main road into a narrow wooded lane, they passed several traditional dairy farms and cottages before arriving at a gorgeous brand new oak-framed dormer bungalow. Once through the automatic front gate, Ms Jones parked the minibus discreetly beside one of the many outbuildings and climbed down, leaving the students to get dressed.

A pretty young girl rushed out, throwing her arms around the teacher’s neck.

“Hello sweetheart - you are looking particularly gorgeous today,” said Ms Jones, stroking the child’s bump.

“Mum - stop embarrassing me. You know I look dreadful in this skimpy shift dress we’re all required to wear...”

It is true - the short white see-through dress did little to hide her engorged dark nipples or enormous pregnancy bump, but Lisa introduced herself to the class anyway.

“Welcome to Mother’s Milk - I’ll explain what goes on when we get inside, just follow me.”

Lisa led the way, the boys ogling her petite teenage bottom, while the girls wondered about her prominent steel bracelet bearing the number 3.

Inside the brand new bungalow, it was clear why the huge windows were silvered so that the occupants could see out, but nobody outside could watch the antics of the mostly-naked teenagers inside.

“You’re all pregnant” Rachael gasped, surveying the dozen or so young girls walking around supporting their bumps or patiently waiting for their next milking session.

Some of the girls voluntarily wore steel collars instead of the ID bracelets, leaving their wrists free for fisting.

Ms Jones explained that she had set up the centre initially just to provide a home for pregnant teens, whose families wouldn’t allow them a termination, but we’re still too young to properly look after a baby.

Her daughter, Lisa was their first entrant, giving birth 3 months later. It was while the midwife was helping Lisa deal with her overflowing supply, breastfeeding her baby, before giving him up for adoption, that the idea of supplying the surplus milk to other mothers arose.

Lisa experimented with various boys to father her next child and was pregnant again within a month, so her milk supply kept flowing.

Once the establishment was home to 10 girls, Ms Jones and her regular midwife helper trialled the first milking parlour.

Unlike most dairy farms, once the Human Cows had been successfully serviced by the DNA-tested ‘bulls’, they were free to come and go as they pleased. Many were allowed home at the weekends for family visits but always returned, often slightly more pregnant, desperate for milking.

“Come on girls and boys - let me show you how it works. There are no set times for milking - we just get up and go whenever the tits are getting a bit uncomfortable.”

Lisa pressed her identity bracelet to the door sensor, which swished open to reveal a spotless, bright room with a curious stainless steel machine in the centre.

Lisa shrugged out of her dress, hanging it on a hook; now utterly naked she placed her feet in the raised footrests.

“Some girls prefer to kneel, but I like to stand.”

The milking machine adjusted the padded bar to the right height to support Lisa’s bump as she leant forward to drop her swollen breasts into the automatic vacuum pumps.

The curly pipes pulsated as the milk was sucked from her overflowing breasts, ran it through a chiller and gradually filled a glass flask. Everyone’s attention was on Lisa’s blissful expression until Molly noticed the lubricated dildo entering her other end as the fucking machine sprang into life.

Lisa adjusted the speed and depth of the thrusts, timing her climax to coincide with the completion of milk extraction.

As she panted towards her orgasm, Ms Jones suggested they give her some privacy and they left the room, returning to the main lounge.

Recovering slowly from watching the blatant sexuality of human milk production, Rachael thought she was on safer ground asking about how distribution was handled.