With a tired groan, he dug into a lower drawer and yanked out one of the XL black tee shirts imprinted with his shop logo. "That shirt's nasty. Put th...s on." He tossed it at her. "It's clean."She looked up from tugging on her dirty sneakers. "But…?He gave her a level and steady stare.She folded under the weight of his gaze. "Okay." She tugged the dirty shirt back off then pulled the new one on. The Alchemist yanked her old shirt from her fingers and threw it over his shoulder. The shirt flopped. Then the pump would begin its merciless draining of whatever he had left within his sacs. He had been there now almost three days and couldn’t believe how he’d been transformed into a milk producer out here in this transformed Siberian gulag.The milking was broadcast on milkingcam and relayed to the wardens’ station where it could be constantly monitored for output.“This is only your twelfth time this morning. Why do I give you half an hour’s rest ? just so you can be thinking of pretty flowers. More

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