Duality - Chapter 7 (Novel Commission for Code-Shark101)

TAGS: Anthro, Transformation/TF, Slice-Of-Life, Milk/Lactation, BE, Hyper

---===---

The massage was reduced to a rhythm and a routine, with Linda bringing her full weight to bear on her breasts… and accomplishing precisely nothing, while gaining everything at the same time. She was much too small compared to her own bust to really do anything to it, but the awareness of this, the knowledge that she was so tiny compared to her tits, was enough to send her to places where the panda gal no longer cared about keeping her composure. Her tongue lolled from her mouth, dripping a thin line of drool as she called out for her tits, wishing them larger, fuller, bigger and heavier, demanding they never stop growing, even as they slowly emptied out from the constant tugging and squeezing. The sound of milk battering against the wall was getting louder, the splashing of fluids enough to hit her face and sides, the floor turning into a complete mess of creamy white and still she wanted more. It wouldn’t be enough until she hit climax, and even then she had her doubts.

If Linda were still in charge of her own emotions and thoughts, she might’ve felt glad about her idea turning out as well as it did; clearly, using her whole body as a weight to press on her bust was the best, cleanest and fastest way to get it to empty out, something she would’ve made a mental note of it. Unfortunately, Linda wasn’t really there anymore, being locked away in a remote mental cell where she couldn’t do anything to stop her body from enjoying itself to its fullest. The panda moaned whorishly and loudly enough for her neighbors to hear, none of which dared to try and see what was going on, thus leaving the young woman to her own devices. She was alone in the bathroom, rubbing against her person-sized chest and begging for it to never end; and while her stamina was commendable, borderline unnatural considering how aroused she was, it would have to come to an end eventually.

Despite the constant release, and indeed her breasts beginning to shrink, the pressure she felt inside of them somehow continued to rise throughout her self-exploration. Whether it be an intentional design flaw or just something the genemodding did to her as well, it was all she ever wanted: the sensation of fullness reaching, hitting, and then surpassing its peak, its apex, until she was struggling to even remain conscious. At the very end, when her eyes were beginning to roll upwards and her vision was tunnelling, she felt it: release.

In a glorious moment of lactic bliss, the dams broke and everything went to hell. In the one short moment she experienced before blacking out, Linda saw two gushes of milk, thicker than her arm, rip part of linoleum off the wall and blast her on the face from the ricochet. And then… darkness.

Much like the night before, she woke up an indeterminate amount of time later. Her back was sore from the uncomfortable position it ended up in, she could barely feel her legs, which were still wracked by both uncontrollable quivering and a permeating sense of numbness, and her whole body was beset by waves of pulsating warmth that seemed to be coming from nowhere. It was oddly soothing, considering what had led to it, and in the first couple of moments after regaining her consciousness, Linda allowed herself to be lulled into a comfortable half-sleep by both it and the constant sloshing emanating from her chest.

… her chest.

Her eyes shot wide open and instantly looked down, to where the main cause of her sudden bout of fainting still lay, throbbing gently and spurting a few mouthfuls of milks. Somehow, in the middle of her thrashing, Linda had maneuvered her tits to where they were now comfortably resting inside of her tub, one nipple to each side and half-submerged in her own milk. It was oddly comforting, so much that it kept her from realizing something very important about her breasts being able to fit inside the tub.

Her breasts could fit inside the tub.

Took a moment for that fact to process, but once it did, the only thing keeping her from jumping around in excitement was the residual weight of her own bust, and how much her back still hurt. Nonetheless, it was cause for celebration in her book, because not only had she not grown any more, but her chest had actually shrunken down after such a vigorous milking! It was the best feeling she’d had in goodness knows how long, only dampened by the slow, dreadful, creeping realization that this was exactly what she was going to have to do at her job from that point forward.

That thought alone was enough to take her newfound happiness, throw it out the window, and slowly open the door back to the same impending dread she’d been feeling for the past couple of days. The thought of having to milk herself at work was so uncomfortable, at best, and denigrating at worst, that it quickly left her feeling like curling up in the safety of her bed  and never leaving it again.

But... that would have to wait. Right now, she had to talk to Rivtech over the phone.

It wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

The next day, Linda called for another taxi and made her way down via the elevator, this time without any heavy groaning on its part. Though she had managed to reduce her breast size to merely resemble over inflated soccer balls, via the judicious application of hours of squeezing and milking, she still struggled with them fitting into her bra. The amount of spillage going on was still bordering on the indecent, making her quite a sight to behold while waiting on the curbside for her ride. The tube top she had pressed into service over her bra was not the most modest of things, but she didn’t have anything else that she could fit over her chest that wasn’t a torn-up bed sheet at present. Several cat calls, whistles, and comments that made her eyes roll later, her cab finally arrived, the driver at least being polite enough not to make any disparaging comments about her size.

Arriving at the café was just as much a pain as expected,  her boss having decided to forgo his usual grumpy self in favor of dialing the unpleasantries up to a new level, enough so that even a few of Linda’s now apathetic coworkers told him to knock it off. Which he did, but not before muttering something about “wall tanks” and shutting himself in his office leaving Linda to wonder just what that meant right up until she entered the changing room.

There, two holes had been added to the wall, spherical in nature and built into the structure of the room itself, with the addition of two suction cups attached to long hoses that lead to a control panel above their wall mounts. The neon panel bore the words “MILKING STATION” in bright white lettering, a frankly unnecessary, borderline insulting addition that Linda herself believed was there purely to make her feel even more awkward than before. Then again, she did call  Rivtech and let them know what she found out regarding her productivity, though this felt more like a snide response to her sudden needs rather than a measured one.

The day was going to be a long one; whether or not the customers were nice or a bunch of jerks didn’t seem to matter much as her breasts seemed to instinctively remember the trauma from earlier and steadily began to grow on their own despite Linda’s best efforts to control them. It got so bad that she had to talk to her boss and convince him to allow her the time she needed to milk her ever expanding tits, stating that her allotted break wasn’t enough time to even bring her down to half of her now-usual size; it took Linda, as well as a few of her closer supposed friends, backing her up before he eventually relented, giving her two more breaks in return for docking her pay for the time wasted. An acceptable compromise, given that Linda didn’t want to fight over her paycheck when all she wanted was a way to destress and prevent further growthsplosion incidents.

Regardless, it was time to go back to work, and that meant making the rounds of her assigned tables. Considering the uptick in grabby hands and lurid comments she received from the many, many new faces around the diner, Linda counted herself lucky to have been assigned a quieter section of the establishment that day, as it kept the worst of the offenders at bay.  But, try as she might, there was no stopping her tits from swelling from sheer irritation at the number of cat calls she was getting alone; at least her well-trained relaxation exercises gave her some, if not much, control over her growth.

She was still burning through her extra breaks faster than she wanted to admit, as after her initial hesitation of hooking her breasts up to the machine had faded, she discovered just how arousing having the milk sucked out of her in great, chugging pulls truly was, to the point where she forgot where she was and began making so much noise that Ruth stepped into the staff room to tell her the customers could hear her across the diner. Though appropriately embarrassed, Linda felt predominantly horny by having both of her tits milked by the machine, which turned out to be such an unbearably powerful experience that Linda couldn’t bring herself to care until long after she was left panting and in need of a change of clothes in general, her legs quivering from the force of her orgasms, and the sudden emptiness in her chest leaving behind a previously unknown ache. Above all else though, Linda just wanted to get milked more.

This posed a slight issue when her control over her own voice began to falter. Up until then, Linda had managed to keep her shouting to when she was talking to her boss (as it should be), but the motions her tits were being subjected to were simply too good for her to keep the experience to herself. Something within her called out for her to make her pleasure known, for everyone to know how amazing it felt to have a pair of milk factories like hers emptied like the true dairy cow she was turning into. Confusing thoughts given what Linda herself thought of her condition, but her thoughts regardless; they swam in front and behind her eyes, leaving her dreadfully confused over what to do with herself. Should she moan? Should she call out to someone to come help her?

Questions that were answered when the panda gal felt her throat begin to vibrate and her vocal cords be given some work to do, her mouth opening wide and letting loose a rather undignified sound that made her bring both hands to it, hoping that no one heard it. What followed was complete silence, so much that Linda knew her cover had been blown. The sounds of the maining dining room outside the door were usually perfectly audible from where she stood, so for them to have vanished completely could only mean their customers had not only heard her moan, but heard it so well they had to fall into an awkward silence in response. She heard the familiar thundering footsteps of her boss, approaching the staff changing room while scowling loudly enough for her to pick up a few expletives, before bursting through the door looking like his face had been pressed to a stove.

“Explain.”

His voice was entirely at odds with his expression; rather than a shouted threat, it was as calm as could be, though still betraying the bottomless pit of rage hiding just behind it. Linda knew that literally any explanation she could give would be spat right back at her face… so why even try? Instead, she continued to stare at him in silence, the only sound in the room being the rhythmic pulsing of the pumps helping to drain her bust. Down below them, the two could hear the piping struggling to hold onto the flow, directing it towards whatever storage tank Rivtech bothered to install; it was an odd scenario, even given the rather unique set of circumstances that surrounded Linda’s situation, and to a certain degree she felt the older man understood that. He was still mad and pissy of course, but on some level the sheer absurdity of it all had started to get to him, leaving him without a proper frame of reference to know how to react to someone like her.

He couldn’t send her home without having the company knock on his door. He couldn’t tell her to get off the milker because Rivtech had ordered that to happen. He couldn’t even fire her, because she hadn’t really done anything wrong in terms of what her actual job was… and yet he still felt like he was being saddled with a problem that should never have been his to begin with, leaving him in an awkward position where at least the tiniest part of him felt sorry for the girl he was staring it. None of it was their fault; she was at least as much of a victim of circumstance as he was… but why did she have to be here now? Why, of all the places, did Rivtech pick his establishment? Was it the pancakes? Maybe someone in that “research team” of theirs once came over and liked the place so much they threw the idea around. Whatever the truth may be, now he had to deal with a reality the company wasn’t willing to help him with, and after the emergency meeting in the backroom where they were more or less threatened into compliance, his arms were tied behind his back.

He sighed, rubbing both eyes with one hand and lifting the other as if to indicate he was going to say something, only for words to fail him again. He silently pleaded with Linda for her to keep quiet, unable to verbalize the sheer distress he was feeling at the time; shrugged shoulders, an expression of utmost incredulity stamped on his face and a slumped posture all served to let the panda gal know just where he stood. The two remained as they were, sizing one another up… and no one did a thing. Linda’s pity well had long since dried out, but she could at least appreciate her boss coming to terms with the idea that she was there to stay, and in that sorry state as well. At least he never once stared at her breasts, just about the one positive she could always pin next to him in her mind. She wanted to tell him that if there was literally any other way of doing things, then she would’ve taken it, that if it were up to her, neither of them would be in that embarrassing mess; but just like him, she could utter no words, instead relying on a long, drawn-out sigh followed by her “falling” forwards onto her bust, squishing it ever so gently against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” they both said simultaneously, prompting their faces to go about as red as the neon sign outside. Clearly not one used to saying those words, her boss quickly shuffled out of the room and left her alone, the bustling noise on the other side of the door rearing back to life after a few of her coworkers had the decency to make a couple of jokes at her expense. Linda didn’t even care if they were particularly mean-spirited; just as long as it got people distracted and back to normal, that’s all she could ever hope for. Alone, stuck on a wall-mounted milking machine, the panda could do very little but contemplate her existence: was this it? Was this what she would be reduced to? A pair of hyperactive milk makers attached to a fuzzball of some minor importance? What about her life, what about her plans, what about her dreams? If everything would have to be planned around the constant need to either milk herself or prepare for sudden, unpredictable growth bursts, then what kind of life was that?

It was enough to get her to bite back tears, knowing that if she let them flow then they’d never stop. It was her work shift, she had to focus; if she couldn’t keep her stuff together while working customer service, how was she supposed to survive the hardships of the medical profession? At least that’s what Linda told herself; framing her experiences as some kind of self-imposed test was far better than surrendering to the uncomfortable reality that her life was no longer under her control. It was precisely at points like those that a tender touch was needed, someone to be there to tell her everything was fine… and either her boss seemed to think so as well, or at least decided to turn a blind eye to Beth walking into the staff changing room and locking the door behind her. Linda was about to say something when her budding lover brought a finger to her lips, then lunged forward to hug her.

It was silence. Warm, full silence that the both of them could appreciate on a deeper level than most, evocative of when she had done the exact same during the panda’s initial growth spurt. It was raw intimacy bereft of any sexuality; just two souls commiserating, with one holding the other so tightly that Linda had to make a quip about it being hard to breathe with a backpack tied on so tightly. Didn’t result in a lot of chuckles, but Beth clearly eased up after that.