Spills
Added 2020-10-29 08:45:48 +0000 UTCNote: This is a story-prompt for Ryan Caday.
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It had all started randomly one day in the office. Penelope had had her usual morning coffee, and by the afternoon, her chest had started to feel tight and tingly. She wasn’t sure of the cause, and tried to brush it off for the time being in favor of a project she was working on, but the discomfort only grew, her chest felt heated, and there was clearly some swelling beneath the fitted blouse she was wearing.
Penelope was just about to head to the lavatory to fully investigate what was going on, when her nipples began to sting. There was a weirder sensation that followed, a tingling pressure, and then…moisture?
She looked down at her blouse and could see a spot forming over each of her nipples, a moist spot, and she steadily came to realize that she was somehow lactating—only, whatever her body was producing was brown, and it smelled distinctly like…coffee?
Penelope slowly looked up and found that most of her colleagues present had noticed, and they were all staring. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling mortified.
“I—er—I have to go,” she blurted. With that, she grabbed her purse and hurried off to her car as she tried to make sense of what was happening to her body.
By that evening, Penelope almost thought that she was going mad and had imagined the whole thing, except there was the coffee stain on her blouse, and just before bed, her chest tingled again.
Her breasts were bloated and tender, soft and warm. They were noticeably bigger, and had felt so sensitive during the latter half of the day, she hadn’t been able to bear putting them into a bra.
Her nipples started dripping again. This time clear fluid—what looked to be water. She had been sipping water throughout the evening. It was almost like her nipples were expelling the exact fluids she was consuming orally. Penelope sat down on her bed, mystified.
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Now weeks later, Penelope had managed to adapt to her strange affliction. Though she, of course, could not survive without fluid intake, she timed her drinks carefully, and she was able to predict when the lactation would follow. She wore nursing bras when she could tolerate it, and the lactation became little more than an inconvenience that everyone pretended to be oblivious of yet gossiped heartily about.
Penelope lived around it. She even got the growth under control, making sure to sip throughout the day, never drinking too much at one time. Life was virtually normal, at least until her boss took on a new business venture.
Her boss, Carl, had purchased a café. He had always wanted to be a chef, and had taken to bringing in samples of his culinary creations for his team to try. The dozen or so of Penelope’s colleagues who worked under Carl were complete brown-nosers and lapped everything up—literally. Penelope was truly desperate for a promotion, and found herself succumbing to the pressure.
“Here Pen, what do you think of this,” Carl said as he came into the office. He was handing out beverages in disposable cups that were extra-large in size.
Penelope accepted the milky beverage and took a sip. It was heavenly. She tried to put it down but Carl was watching her.
“You don’t like it?” he said.
“I do,” Penelope insisted. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
She avoided the elephant in the room with another careful smile. “It’s great,” she said, bringing the cup back to her lips and drinking the whole thing down.
That afternoon, her breasts had swelled from Cs to Ds, and she had to take several bathroom breaks to avoid leaking publicly. Her nipples were hard, swollen, and protruding evidently. Everyone was throwing her discreet glances while pretending not to.
Carl continued to bring in new beverages, some regretfully thick. They all made her bloat uncomfortably. She had difficulty passing a chowder, her nipples unaccustomed to the strain. She found herself carrying some of the fluid even into the following day, panting, and waiting for her nipples to steadily push it out of her now-DDs.
One morning, Penelope was relieved to see that the latest sample was a solid food for once: an experimental sweet potato pudding Carl was particularly excited to get feedback on. Like most of Carl’s cooking, it was delicious. Penelope even accepted a second serving, relieved that there wouldn’t be any consequences for once.
She was mistaken. By that afternoon, her breasts were heavy and tingling, nipples aching, and her top tightening against her. It didn’t make sense. The pudding hadn’t been a liquid…but then…
Penelope locked herself in the lavatory, breathing heavily, her breasts feeling bloated and heavy. She watched them heave, just throbbing with growth, and she knew it was the pudding that occupied them. “Fuck,” she groaned, hunching slightly in her stall, unbuttoning her blouse buttons before they could tear apart. She grimaced and groaned through the process of lactating, but only managed to produce a fat purple dollop of pudding that plopped on the floor. Her nipples continued to bulge and strain.
There was a light knock on the stall door. “Penelope?” a colleague called. “You have a client waiting.”
“Okay,” Penelope stammered. “R-right.”
She tried to pass more of the pudding, even squeezing her two nipples, but only managed to produce two more dollops. Her legs quavered, loins hot, the growing strain oddly arousing. Somehow Penelope managed to stuff her now-E-cups back into her top. Flushed and panting, she made her way back to the office, engorged breasts wobbling on her chest.