Oh, this old chestnut. Sharon rolled her eyes - it was starting to get tiresome. By now, she'd had enough experience with this sort of thing to realise that the harder she fought against it, the more her efforts would be twisted against her. She sighed as she signed up for an interview.
---
Sharon stormed into the room, heading straight for the over-endowed secretary. She didn't even blink at the fact that her gigantic breasts were about the size of beachballs, resting heavily on the desk, nor at the fact that they were connected to some kind of milking machine, each massive tit jiggling and wobbling about as it spurted thick creamy milk into a milking cup. She slammed her resume down with enough force to startle the secretary out of her milking-induced haze.
"Alright, I get the picture. I've ridden this rodeo enough times. This is some kind of human dairy-type deal, and signing up is going to turn me into a busty, milky cow-slut. You know what? Fine. It's three square meals a day, and a roof over my head. I'm taking the path of least resistance here. Turn me into a mindless cow with tits so big I can barely walk, whatever. Just skip ahead to the bit where you show me to my stall, okay?" She paused in her tirade to take a breath.
The secretary blinked at her, then said...
Tue Apr 26 01:59:38 2016