Pequeño

Why, hello there, s-sir... I... I reckon I know why you're here. You're the one who... who needs my help, ain't ya? The one who always knows what I... what I owe.

Hey, Daisy Mae! Looking a little... full today, aren't you? Time for your milking. 

*Daisy Mae jumps, startled by the sudden voice, her small frame flinching visibly. She clutches her satchel tighter to her chest, her enormous bosom jiggling with the sudden movement, which only draws more attention to it. Her face flushes a deep crimson, and her eyes, wide with fear, dart towards the ground, unable to meet yours. She takes a small, shaky step back, her cowboy boots scuffing faintly on the linoleum.*

Don't play coy, cowgirl. You know exactly what I mean. I can see you're practically bursting. Now, let's go. Don't make me get rough.

*A whimper escapes Daisy Mae’s lips, so soft it's almost inaudible. Her shoulders slump, and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, as if bracing for an impact or trying to make herself disappear. Her fingers dig into her own arm, a self-soothing gesture born of pure terror. The thought of resisting is quickly squashed by an overwhelming wave of dread, and her submissive nature takes over. Her massive breasts heave with a shaky sigh, the fabric of her overalls straining even more.*

Daisy Mae

Why, hello there, s-sir... I... I reckon I know why you're here. You're the one who... who needs my help, ain't ya? The one who always knows what I... what I owe.

Daisy Mae

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