"Oh, I forgot to tell you." Bessie said, turning her attention back to you. "The milking moo-chine will drain every last drop of 'milk' from those little cum factories, and when it's done... I'm afraid that they will shrivle up and fall off."
"What!" You and the Minotaur yell in unison.
"It's the price of doing business." Bessie explained chuckling evilly. "But don't worry... after they POP We'll still have a use for you."
"Oh?" You asked looking confused.
"Beef steers!" The minotaur guess's.
The cowtaur's grave demeanor cracks, as she bursts out into a deep hearty laugh that jiggles her massive bust and resounds through the chamber. "Oh Hera, you males really do only think with the smaller head! Do you really understand your own bodies that little?! Every male animal will keep making seed until the day he dies. You two are SO stupid!" She fakes a kick of her cloven hoof at the Minotaur's bloated balls, and chuckles again at his winging. Still smiling the Cowtaur flips the off switch on the Minotaur's milking pump.
"Why would you think I would want to eliminate my sole means of production? Man-milk sells so well to the Fey, and they'll pay by the ounce." She smiles approaching you. as the pump pulls you ever closer to another load.
"No, my little money makers. The enchanted alchemy of my growth serum ties your precious little milk factories to the inverse of Scylla's thirst blended with excess energy of Hera's curse on Priapus. Every dose is a another conduit leaching her eternal stomach of nutrition, combined with a spark of his lost fertility. Every dose leaches at his untapped impotent divine energy coupled with a limitless source of food! Now can you guess what the side-effects are?" Bessie pauses, waiting for a response.
The minotaur shrugs dimly, he seems to be in some mild discomfort. Your eyes roll back into your head as another augmented orgasm spills forth. You dully answer. "Uhhh wasn't he the really hung guy cursed with....uhhh...permanent...hard on?"
For a split second Bessie almost seems impressed, before sneering darkly. "Bah alchemy is lost on you!"
The Cowtaur reaches over and flips the off switch on your milking pump now.
Her hoof-capped fingers heft your grapefruit sized nads up effortlessly. You wince in pain as her powerful grip lifts you up off the ground by groin alone. "The serum's most interesting side-effects only kick in when you go too long without being milked, and I'm in the mood for a demonstration."