Dear Dairy…

Cream tease

Photo by cottonbro studio

Monday

I went to the milking shed again, to watch him work. This time I wore a shorter skirt to show off my calves, and I stood so close to him his hair nearly brushed my bodice when he straightened up.

He’s still ignoring me.

Tuesday

While I was filling a pail at the pump, I splashed my skirt so the cotton clung to my legs, then I went to the milking shed again. I know he looked at me this time.

At least, I think he did.

Wednesday

I undid the top two buttons of my bodice before I went into the shed.

I asked him if I could try milking Daisy. I thought if I sat with my knees apart then my skirt would ride up, and maybe he’d look at my thighs, or perhaps he’d stand over me and stare down my bodice. But he said no, I couldn’t milk her, because I’m too clumsy. He said he’d seen me at the well and I couldn’t draw water without soaking my skirt.

So he has noticed me!

But he is right. I can’t even watch him milk Daisy without getting wet.

Thursday

He touched me!

I asked him again if I could try milking Daisy. I told him I’m not clumsy, it was one of the pigs that knocked the pail over and that’s why my skirt was wet that time.

I don’t think he believed me but he let me milk Daisy anyway, just for a minute.

He stood right beside me and I felt his hand press against my breast when I turned towards him.

Friday

He held my hand today.

He let me try milking. When I sat on the stool I spread my legs and hitched my skirt up, and asked him to show me what to do.

He knelt in front of me and guided my fingers so I made the right movements.

I think he looked up my skirt. I hope he did, because I was really cold without drawers on and I don’t want that to be for nothing.

Saturday

My fingers are so tired. I had to mend tears in my bodice, and sew new buttons on, then wash my skirt.

He let me milk Daisy again, but he stood behind me this time. When I asked for a reminder of how to do it he leaned over me and tore my bodice open. It’s cold in the dairy, so my nipples were stiff and plump and they welcomed his warm hands.

He showed me how to milk Daisy by pretending my nipples were her teats.

I learnt a lot. I have to gently squeeze between finger and thumb, pressing and releasing, and it’s good sometimes to massage the udder to encourage the milk to come down.

Then he showed me what not do do.

I learned it’s wrong to maul at the udder, and very bad to slap it. It’s wicked to pinch a teat, or tug hard on it. I’m not sure I understood everything, though. I don’t know whether I am, or I’m not, meant to tell Daisy she’s a dirty cow.

And I don’t know why any of what he showed me is wrong. It didn’t feel wrong.

I wonder if he saw how wet the back of my skirt was when I left?

After I did my chores, I thought about his fingers for a long time. Mine are so tired.

Sunday

It took me ages to scrub my bodice clean tonight.

I asked him if I could get another milking lesson. He said I should practice on something else before he’d let me loose on Daisy.

He dropped his breeches and what he showed me looked just like a teat, fat and dangling. I squeezed it gently, the way he taught me. It got plumper, and firmer, like my nipples in the cold. Then it got really hard and jutted out like the bull’s does sometimes.

I said, it’s not like a teat now.

He said it was still a teat and I should suckle on it, then I’d know. I felt his udder. It was tight and heavy like Daisy’s when she’s ready to be milked, so I suckled.

I had to suck for a while before I could get any milk to come. His milk is thick and creamy, but it isn’t as sweet as Daisy’s. I spilt most of it down my bodice.

I can’t stop thinking about the bull, and what he does when he’s put in with a heifer.

Monday

Dear Daisy, please stop staring at me with those sad, judgmental eyes! You’ve done worse. You’ve been mounted in a field with the whole herd watching, you hypocrite! At least I was indoors, and there was only you to see us. And I milked you afterwards, didn’t I?

I do need more practice, though.

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