Milk Maid

By Lyka Bloom

Natalie moves into a small apartment in the home of Molly Danvers, unaware that Dr. Danvers is collecting a stable of milk-making and sex-addicted slaves. After one taste of the erotic lactation, will Natalie be able to escape her newfound addiction or be drowned in milky mindlessness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyka Bloom
• Release date: Jan 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310391347

Lyka Bloom

Lyka Bloom writes various forms of fiction, but erotica has become a new passion. She preferstransformations and games of control, and enjoys exploring all the perverse kinks bubbling beneath the surface of sexuality.

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MILK MAID

by Lyka Bloom

MILK MAID

First Edition. January 9, 2014 at Smashwords.

Copyright © 2014 Lyka Bloom

Written by Lyka Bloom

www.LykaBloom.com

Part One

Natalie turned the faded blue Honda into the long circular drive, bending behind the windshield to take in the full view of the house. It was palatial, a massive three-story estate with looming wings at either side shadowing the front entrance. Well-groomed hedges framed the front door, and Natalie pointed the nose of the car towards them. She looked through the passenger windows at the high double doors facing the drive and sighed.

Stepping out of the car and into the gloom of a gray September day, Natalie stretched her lean legs and rubbed her back. The drive from St. Louis had been a long one, and the freedom of an open space made her smile, despite the dreary weather. She trotted up to the front doors, catching sight of an elegant vellum envelope wedged between the doors, her name written in a careful hand on the front.

As she pulled it free, Natalie noticed the shifting weight in the envelope, hurriedly opening it and removing the key inside. The note inside was written in the same careful loops and lines, brief, but welcoming.

Natalie-

I trust your drive was safe, but I am sure you are tired. I will be away for much of the evening, but will look in on you if I return at a decent hour. In the meantime, this key will give you access to your new (if temporary) home. I took the liberty of getting some items for you and left them in the fridge. Relax and enjoy!

-M.

Natalie tossed the key in the air and quickly snatched it back into her fist. She hopped off the front steps and jogged around one wing, peeking around the corner. Set away from the house was a four-car garage, with stairs leading up, curling around the side of the building to what certainly must have been drivers' quarters years ago. Now, it was Natalie's apartment until she finished school.

She walked casually towards the building, hospitable if not as ornate as the manor behind her, and attempted to insert the key into the lock of the wide garage doors. She was surprised when it would enter only half-way, and, after a jiggle or two in the lock, quickly decided that this key was not meant for these doors. She turned her attention to the stairs, and, mounting them two at a time, found herself before a modest white door, a window set into the top half and shielded by curtains within. She could make out the gauzy shapes of furniture within.

'At least it's furnished,' she thought, relieved, inserting the key easily into the lock and swinging the door inside.

The room above the garage was of a studio-style, with a small kitchen, a bedroom and living room, and a bathroom off to her right. Besides the bathroom, there were no clearly-defined doorways, but more of a suggested flow, given by the couches and small breakfast bar. It was humble, to be sure, but immaculately clean and decorated with a sense of warmth, and even playfulness, suggested by the liberal splashes of pink amongst the curtains and kitchen décor. Natalie liked it immediately.

Satisfied with her appraisal, Natalie moved back down the steps and to her car, parking it flush with the garage, but away from the front doors. She grabbed her few bags and made the move from car to apartment with all of her worldly possessions in one trip.

She resolved to unpack immediately. Soonest begun, soonest done, she always said. She sat down on the couch nearest the door, surveying her new domain, calculating where her few personal mementos would be placed. It would be charming, she thought, as the weariness of the drive overtook her and she slept.

When she awoke, it was dark, and a soft rapping on the window of the door startled her from sleepy wakefulness to near-alarm.

Hello? she managed, disoriented but filled with a