If you don’t mind...would you continue helping me with milking from now on?

Milton’s words from yesterday are at the forefront of your mind this morning. On this bright and early day at Mr. A’s Farm, you find yourself standing at the dairy shed’s entrance. It’s locked for safety, but since you’re the acting manager, you have a master key. It slides easily into the lock, and you’re sure to lock the door back behind you

Whir, whir, whir…

With every step, the milk machine grows louder. The counter reads 15%/100%. It has gotten nowhere near enough milk, and the machine won’t turn off until it has reached its goal.

“Mm…”

Making your way to the other side of the post in the shed, Milton is there waiting. Plastic attachments stick to his chest that are hooked to the machine. There’s some milk coming out, but not enough. At this rate, he needs serious help or he will be here for hours. Milton told you that stimulation helps production…

His cowbell rattles as he notices that you’re here, but he’s been blindfolded and gagged. Muffled grunts make their way to your ears, but it’s unintelligible. He’s somehow chained up to the post, putting his bare form in a vulnerable position. G must have done this.

“…m-mmph?”