Milk Maid

"Hey Samantha, can I get a drink?"

"What?" Where am I? I was just in the boys bathroom washing my hands, and now I'm in… a different bathroom? And what the hell is the weight strapped to my chest?

"I'm thirsty. Do you mind?"

"Umm. No? Why would I mind if you drink something?" What is wrong with this girl? And what is wrong with my voice? It's so high.

"Great!" she said right before popping the buttons on my shirt." I really appreciate this. I've always thought your milk tastes the best."

"What are you…My what-OH!" Like it was the most normal thing in the world, she leaned down, latched onto my much, much larger nipple, and began to suck. I started to push her away but stopped. The weights on my chest, breasts!?! were sending unbelievably intense signals to my brain. Starting as pinpricks all throughout, sharp spikes of almost pain faded to warmth before flowing outward, toward the tips. Something letting go, releasing, building until the girl nursing from me groaned and redoubled her efforts, greedily pulling more of my soft new flesh into her mouth with each rhythmic suck. I moaned and my knees gave way, falling back on a thankfully near bench placed against one wall. I looked to the currently unoccupied nipple and watched beads of white form at the end before dripping to the floor below. She drank more before switching sides, leaving me completely lost in the feeling. I was both unable and unwilling to do anything but lean back and enjoy the all consuming experience. When she'd had her fill, the girl pulled away, leaving me in a daze until she finally spoke.

"You really should consider becoming a permanent MilkMaid, Samantha." she said, a rosy glow on her cheeks that wasn't there before. "You're beautiful, you definitely have the boobs for it, and your milk is incredible!"

I was still panting, coming down from the last few minutes of confusing, unexpected eroticism and had trouble parsing her words. She walked out and I leaned against the sink catching my breath. Looking around as I recovered, I saw an open bag with a note on top that said "Read Me!"

Note found in bag: To the new me, whoever you are, I'm sorry. I wanted out, out of the life my stupid body, your body now, would force me into. I've studied for years, honed my mind, and I'm not giving that up to become some idiot, pleasure-addicted, milk machine. Maybe you're stronger, maybe you'll be able to resist. Your body won't want to. But the other girls around you, they're worse, the bunch of selfish bitches. They desperately want what you can give them. Not only does your milk taste like candy crack to them, it changes them. They might get smoother skin, fuller lips, bigger boobs, you name it. You are a literal one in a million genetic jackpot for them, if they can convince you. You technically get a choice. It's legally guaranteed and everything. No one can force you, but they can entice you.

And every time they drink from you, every single damn time, that stupid body will respond a little more. Your own breasts growing a little larger, perfect for holding more to feed the next one. Your own nipples even more responsive, sensitive. It will feel better and better and get harder to resist every time one of them drinks from you. I was curious the first time. I was stupid and wanted to know how it would feel. After that I didn't want to stop.

None of this is the worst part. The combination of chemicals released each time, the same chemicals that make everything feel so damn good, will affect your brain. Willpower is the first thing to go. After all, a good MilkMaid should never resist. That's what they call them, the women who give up their lives and give up their minds. That's next, by the way, your intelligence. Why would you even need it? Finally, as if it matters at that point, you'll lose any desire for independence. You'll want, need to be taken care of, to be with others like yourself, to herd. And then it's over. You'll be one of them, one of the MilkMaids. I couldn't resist, so I stole your life, and I'm sorry, but not sorry enough to give it back. Whatever you do don't let anyone drink from you.

I looked into the mirror, terror in my eyes, my large breasts even now filling again, growing larger, heavier. The huge nipples still tingling from a sensual attack by lips and tongue. I have to fight this, have to find a way home, have to resist giving in to the temptation. But damn, it felt so good, I thought, as I slowly squeezed one long nipple.

"No!" I shouted aloud. I would figure this out, I wouldn't give in.

Part of me even believed it.