The Secret My Uncle Kept at the Farm

I’m going to tell this exactly as it happened, even though I still find it hard to believe that I was the protagonist. I was twenty-one and had just gotten myself into a situation my mother never forgave me for. There’s no need to go into details: let’s just say that in the city I had become someone she no longer recognized, and one night she caught me in a way that allowed for no excuses.

—This city has ruined you —she told me, her voice trembling with rage—. You’re going somewhere far away, where you can’t keep hurting yourself.

“Far away” meant the countryside. Her older brother’s farm, lost among the hills, four hours from the last bus stop.

My uncle’s name was Ramón. He was a sturdy man, weathered by the sun, extremely tall, and nearing fifty. A widower with no children, he had lived alone with his animals ever since my aunt Dolores had died years before. When he found out he would have company for a while, he didn’t hide his happiness. But my mother had asked him to be strict with me, and he promised he would.

—There’s work to do here, Carla —were the first words he said to me when I got out of the dusty car—. Whoever doesn’t work doesn’t eat.

The farm had pigs, sheep, and a handful of dairy cows. Ramón raised them to sell at a good price, or sold the milk in town on market days. I spent my first week sweeping, scrubbing floors, and feeding the animals. I didn’t have to milk them: he had a modern machine that suctioned the milk from the udders and drew it out much faster than any pair of hands.

It took me a while to get used to the silence. In the city there was noise at all hours; there, all you could hear was the wind, the crickets, and, in the early hours of the morning, the bleating of some sheep. At night I would lie on the narrow bed in the room that had belonged to my aunt and think about everything I had left behind.

What I didn’t expect was for my own body to start betraying me.

***

Weeks passed and I began noticing changes. I don’t know whether it was the country air, the food, or some hormonal imbalance carried over from my previous life, but the fact was that something inside me went out of control. My breasts, which had always been small, grew noticeably. They didn’t become enormous, but they went from barely a hint of curves to a firm, rounded pair that strained the fabric of my T-shirts.

And there was something else, something that truly frightened me.

I began waking up with my clothes soaked around my chest. At first I thought I was sweating, but soon I understood that it wasn’t sweat. It was milk. My body had begun producing milk for no apparent reason, and the amount only increased as the days went by.

I felt ashamed, and afraid too. But I had no one to tell except my uncle.

—What happened to your clothes? You’re soaked, Carla —he asked one afternoon, sitting down at the table for lunch. I had prepared a thick stew, the kind he liked.

I lowered my eyes to my plate. I felt my cheeks burning.

—I think I have a hormonal problem, Uncle. My tits won’t stop leaking milk.

Ramón coughed, choking on a piece of bread, and looked at me with a surprise that took far too long to fade.

—Milk, you say?

—Yes, Uncle. It comes out in spurts, especially at night. I wake up with my tits hard as rocks and my nipples burning.

He set his fork down on the table. His expression had changed: it was no longer surprise, but something else I didn’t know how to name at the time.

—Your aunt Dolores used to have periods like that —he said slowly—. Her milk would suddenly come in even when she wasn’t pregnant. When her udders filled, she said they hurt. Do yours hurt, Carla?

—Sometimes. As if they’re going to burst.

—That’s because there’s no one to empty them. If no one draws the milk out, it builds up and hurts. —He paused for a long time—. I used to help your aunt when it happened. I sucked her dry, every last drop.

Suck me? My uncle? A lash of sensation between my legs left me breathless.

—How, Uncle? —I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.

—I’ll show you when we’re done eating. Trust your uncle.

***

An hour later we had finished eating and I had washed the dishes. My hands trembled a little, not from fear, but from an anticipation I didn’t understand. My breasts truly hurt that afternoon, tight and hot, as if they were crying out for someone to empty them. And between my thighs, for no reason I wanted to admit, a sticky dampness had gathered and stained my panties.

Ramón was waiting for me on the old sofa in the living room, his elbows resting on his knees.

—Come here —he said—. Let me see them, Carla.

—U-Uncle?

—Trust me. I’m going to relieve that pain.

I stood in front of him, hesitating. Part of me knew that this wasn’t right, that we were about to cross a line that could never be redrawn. But the pain was real, and so was the curiosity. I had promised myself I wouldn’t be the obedient girl my mother wanted, and yet there I was, about to obey the most forbidden order of all.

I lifted the hem of my camisole and, after a moment’s hesitation, took off the sports bra I was wearing underneath.

My tits were exposed, swollen, their nipples pink and hard, so full they seemed ready to spurt at the slightest touch. Ramón stared at them in silence, and I noticed him swallow. I also noticed, despite myself, the bulge showing through his trousers, thick and long, straining the old fabric.

—Just like your aunt —he murmured—. Though hers were bigger.

He raised one hand and laid it on one of my tits. He squeezed it with surprising gentleness for such large hands, massaging it from the bottom upward, closing his fingers around the hot flesh. The sensation drew a sigh from me that I couldn’t hold back.

—See? This is how it’s done —he said—. You have to empty them little by little.

Then he pinched my nipple without warning, between his index finger and thumb, rolling it as if he were squeezing a grape. I moaned softly, startled, and a thick thread of milk burst out and ran between his fingers. He watched it as if hypnotized. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them one by one, staring straight at me.

—Sweet —he said—. Very sweet.

My knees trembled. I felt the dampness between my legs growing, my pussy tightening on its own, throbbing to the beat of my heart.

***

What happened afterward still makes me wonder whether it was me, or a version of myself I had never known.

Ramón knelt on the floor in front of me, between my legs. Before I could ask anything, he brought his mouth to one of my tits and sucked hard, closing his lips around the entire areola and tugging with his tongue.

—U-Uncle! What are you doing? —I stammered, gripping the back of the sofa.

He didn’t answer. He kept sucking, draining me with an eagerness that left me breathless, as if he had been thirsty for years and this were the first water he’d had in a long time. Every pull sent a warm current through my entire body, a mixture of relief and something much murkier. I heard the wet sounds of his mouth, the heavy gulps as he swallowed my milk, and every gulp drove a lash of sensation between my thighs.

—Your milk is delicious, Carla —he said, pulling away for barely an instant before moving to the other tit, the one that was still painfully full.

He gently bit my nipple, just enough to make another spurt come out, then wrapped his tongue around it and began nursing again. All I could do was moan. The pain disappeared as he drank, replaced by a wave of pleasure I had never felt before. I could feel moisture running down the inner sides of my thighs, soaking my panties, and without realizing it I began rubbing my legs together, searching for relief.

Ramón noticed. Without releasing my breast, he slid one of his huge hands beneath my skirt, moved the fabric aside, and ran two thick fingers along my wet slit.

—You’re dripping, niece —he murmured against my nipple—. Dripping like a bitch in heat.

—Uncle… —was all I could say.

He slipped in one finger, then two. He pushed them all the way in with such ease that I blushed: my pussy was so wet it offered no resistance. He began moving them inside me, curling them, while he continued sucking my swollen tits. His other hand rose and caught my free nipple, squeezing it until another little stream of milk sprang out and ran down his wrist.

—Open wider —he growled, pulling his mouth from my breast for a second—. Let your uncle empty you completely.

I spread my thighs, trembling. He returned to my breast and kept sucking, now in time with the rhythm of his fingers fucking me. I felt something building inside me, a tight knot in the pit of my stomach, and suddenly it burst over me like a wave. I screamed, pressing his head against my chest, coming over his hand while he continued drawing milk from me in great gulps.

—Good girl —he said when he finally eased off—. Good girl. See how good you feel after being emptied?

He stood up without taking his eyes off me. His chin gleamed with milk and saliva, and the bulge in his trousers had become an impossible-to-hide stake. He slowly undid his belt, never looking away from me, and pulled out his cock.

I had never seen one so close. Thick, dark, with a prominent vein and a swollen glans shining with a thick drop. He gripped it and jerked it twice in front of my face.

—Open —he ordered.

I opened my mouth. The hot tip struck my tongue and he pushed in without haste, burying it to the back of my mouth. He covered my nose with his thumb for a moment, forcing me to breathe through him, then began sliding it in and out while holding the back of my head with his other hand. I sucked as best I could, choking, letting drool escape from the corners of my mouth. Saliva ran down his shaft and soaked his heavy balls.

—That’s it, niece. Suck your uncle like they taught you in the city —he panted.

I gripped the base with one hand and stroked it while I sucked, tears filling my eyes. With my other hand I squeezed one of my tits, and a stream of milk fell onto his cock. Ramón let out a bestial growl.

—Fuck. Fuck, Carla.

He yanked his cock from my mouth, lifted me from the sofa by my armpits as if I weighed nothing, and turned me around. He set me on my knees against the backrest, my ass in the air, and pushed my skirt up to my waist. He tore off my panties in one pull. I felt the cool air against my soaked pussy for a second before his cock pressed against the entrance.

—Hold on —he said, and drove it all the way in with one thrust.

I let out a shriek. It was enormous, much thicker than anything I had taken before, and it filled me to a place I hadn’t known I had. He stayed still for a moment, breathing heavily against the back of my neck, then began fucking me. Hard. Without the slightest care. Every thrust shook my whole body, every blow drove my belly against the sofa’s backrest, and my tits bounced so violently that threads of milk escaped and stained my stomach.

—Take it, niece —he panted in my ear—. Take your uncle’s cock. This is what your little cunt was begging for, isn’t it? This is why your mother threw you out.

—Yes, Uncle… yes… —I whimpered, shameless now, pushing my ass back to take him—. More, Uncle, don’t stop.

He grabbed my hips with both hands and thrust faster. The sound of his balls slapping against my clitoris filled the living room, mixed with the wet squelch of my pussy and the grunts he made with every stroke. He reached around me, pinched my nipple, and squeezed out another stream of milk that wet his fingers. Then those same fingers moved down to my clitoris and began rubbing it in fast circles while he kept fucking me all the way to the balls.

I came again, clenching around him in spasms that shook my entire body. I screamed into the backrest, bit the fabric, and scratched at whatever I could reach. He didn’t even slow his pace.

—Come here —he growled, pulling his cock out sharply.

He turned me onto my back on the sofa and opened my legs with one knee. He plunged into me again, all the way, then sprawled over me, crushing my tits against his hairy chest, sucking them in turn while he thrust. Milk gushed from both nipples at once, running over his lips and down his chin, mixing with our sweat and the saliva pooling between my breasts. He ran his tongue along my cleavage, taking as much as he could into his mouth, swallowing, then returning to suck.

—I’m about to come —he panted—. Where do you want it, niece? Where should I pour your uncle’s load?

—Inside —I begged without thinking—. Inside, Uncle, please.

He drove himself to the hilt, held there for a second with his jaw clenched, and came in great spurts inside me. I felt every hot pulse strike against my belly, one after another, so abundant that it began overflowing down my thighs even with his cock still inside me. He kept thrusting slowly, squeezing every last drop into me, without stopping his nursing at one breast.

When he finally withdrew, a thick string of semen ran from my pussy onto the sofa’s fabric. Ramón looked at it proudly, gathered some with two fingers, and brought them to his mouth again.

He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and looked at me with a new calm, the calm of someone who had recovered something he had thought lost.

—Listen —he said, still kneeling between my legs—. From now on, let me milk you whenever you fill up. And let me fuck you whenever my balls fill up. Agreed, Carla?

I covered myself as best I could with my wrinkled camisole, my heart pounding against my chest, my throbbing pussy dripping with his come.

—Y-Yes, Uncle.

***

That night we ate dinner in silence, but it was a different kind of silence, a charged one. I kept glancing at him, and he didn’t look away from me whenever he thought I wasn’t noticing. I could still feel his semen sliding inside the clean panties I had put on.

—Your aunt used to love being milked —he said at last, setting down his spoon—. And she enjoyed being fucked afterward even more. But over the years she dried up on both sides. You, on the other hand, are a fountain. Young and filled to the brim. With milk and juice.

A shiver ran through me. The way he said it, without shame, churned me up inside.

—Did you and Aunt Dolores do many things here on the farm? —I asked, almost without thinking.

Ramón smiled crookedly, a smile concealing years of memories.

—You can’t imagine, girl. Your aunt was a special woman. She liked me fucking her in the barn, among the cows. She liked sucking my cock while I milked her with the machine. She did a lot for this farm, and much more for me.

—I… apparently I’m like her. —I lowered my voice—. Do you think I could take her place?

He looked at me for a long time, as if weighing every word before letting it out.

—Do you want to take your aunt’s place, Carla? Do you want to be the whore of this farm?

The question hung in the kitchen air. I thought of my mother, who had sent me there to punish me, so I would learn how to behave. And I understood, with cold clarity, that the punishment had become something else. A door opening onto a world my mother could never have imagined.

—Yes, Uncle —I replied, and my own voice sounded firm, determined—. I do.

Ramón nodded slowly. He stood, walked around the table, and placed one heavy hand on my shoulder. He slipped the other beneath my skirt and felt my still-sticky pussy.

—Good. Tonight I’ll teach you the duties your aunt performed, one by one, with the same discipline. —He pressed his fingers lightly—. But I’m warning you: once you begin, there’ll be no going back.

I looked him in the eyes and didn’t look away. Outside, the wind stirred the treetops and a sheep cried out in the darkness. Inside, I had just accepted the destiny my mother, without knowing it, had placed before me on a silver platter.

—I don’t want to go back —I said.

And that same night, everything else began. But I’ll save that part of the confession for another day, because there are things that, even having lived them, I still find difficult to put into words.