Back at the farm, the girl goes about her day

Maggie felt an odd sense of loneliness as she watched the winged man fly off, along with two women. She couldn't explain any part of the last five minutes and wasn't sure she wanted to try. That man had appeared out of nowhere, **** his...thing into her mouth, she had swallowed something, and then he had flown away. She felt like she should be angry, or afraid, or maybe scream and cry, but none of those emotions surfaced. Instead, she just heard the last thing the man had said over and over in her head.

'You be a good little heifer, okay?'

Her tummy ached a little, making her wince and clutch her abdomen. She didn't know what she had swallowed, or how it had gotten in her mouth, but she just hoped it wasn't poisonous. She considered making herself vomit it up, but the thought was too disgusting.

"Maggie, where are you? Did you get the broom?" a voice rang out, snapping her fully out of her daze.

"Sorry Momma, I'm coming," she called back, grabbing the dropped broom off of the ground and running towards the barn. She saw her mother a moment later, the mature woman's long blonde hair and nice figure, which her daughter had inherited, never ceasing to amaze Maggie.

"What took you so long?" Josefina asked, looking at her daughter, who was taking deep breaths.

"I...got distracted. Sorry," Maggie said, unwilling to tell her mother what had happened with the strange man.

"Well, nothing to be done for it now. Come on, the barn needs sweeping while the cows are out the next few days."

"Where's Sandy? Why isn't she helping?" Maggie said petulantly, earning her a scolding look from her mother.

"Your sister is helping your dad with something else. Now stop your whining and get to work. We've got plenty more to do." Josefina's firm tone left no room for the teenager to argue, and the two women set to work, Maggie occasionally rubbing her tummy and chest.

Despite immersing herself in work all day, Maggie couldn't wrench her mind from those five minutes in the afternoon. While she worked, read, helped with dinner, showered, and now as she laid in bed trying to sleep, she couldn't stop hearing those words. They ran through her mind on loop, whispering to her endlessly. She tossed and turned, blonde hair scattered around her head, unable to sleep for the voice in her head.

And to make things worse, her whole body ached. Growing up on a farm, she was no stranger to pulled muscles and occasionally overexerting herself, but the dull pain she felt was far worse than usual, even stranger since she hadn't done anything to warrant such pain. She squirmed uncomfortably, tossing and turning but unable to get anything close to comfortable. She couldn't even roll over much, for fear of further aggravating her most sensitive part: her breasts.

Her heavy slopes had caused her trouble before, but now...now it was terrible. Even her light top was too much, her hypersensitized nipples dragging painfully across the fabric. As carefully as she could, she stripped the offending garment off, sitting topless in her bedroom. The pain alleviated slightly, but not enough to relieve her.

'Are they bigger?' Maggie wondered to herself, looking down at her large tits. She thought she had stopped growing years ago, but the curves on her chest was definitely more than it had been, even that morning. 'Why do they hurt so much? Why...? Is it...? No, it can't be what he said, how could he know? I don't even know what's happening. Maybe if I massage them?' Her hands inexorably rose to her sloping mounds, **** for any way to assuage her aching pain. She gasped as her fingers sank into the hot flesh, feeling her pulse through the tissues as she rubbed them.

Suddenly, she felt something change deep in her swollen chest, a slight alleviation of pressure that brought her some measure of relief. She kneaded her tits harder, rhythmically squeezing her boob flesh to try and further ease her pain. Her breathing picked up, the steady rubbing of her tits making her slightly aroused.

The feeling of something rising from her chest continued, working its way further up her tits. Her breasts grew more, but the pain was quickly morphing into pleasure, taking most of Maggie's concerns with the the change. The rising feeling grew and grew, rising to the surface, until, with a quiet moan, a dribble of liquid squeezed out of one of her hardened nipple. The feeling sent a small pulse of bliss through her, making her fingers twitch and squeeze her engorged tits harder. Another bead of liquid appeared on her other tit and she gently scooped it up. A quick glance and an even quicker, almost compulsive taste revealed that it was indeed milk.

Just as the reality that she was somehow lactating set in, her breasts let down, shooting small spurts of milk onto her hands, chest, and bed. Torn between panic and relieved joy, Maggie quickly bolted out of her room and ran towards the kitchen in hopes of finding something to catch her milk with. She could feel the fluid squirting gently against her palms as she covered her nipples, trying not to get her milk everywhere. She quickly found a large bowl and sat down at the kitchen table, tits resting in the bowl as they expelled soft jets of cream.

Maggie sat there for nearly fifteen minutes, watching the bowl slowly fill, before she tentatively reached out and grasped her milky boobs. Even a light squeeze sent stronger spurts of milk splashing into the half filled bowl, accompanied by jolts of pleasure. A haze of quiet bliss fogged up Maggie's head, dulling everything except the gentle rushes of satisfaction. The farm girl's practiced hands moved on years of experience with milking and the girl slowly began squeezing her own tits for milk. She sat there for another fifteen minutes, wringing her boobs for more milk, until the bowl in front of her was full to the brim.

'Need another bowl. Or something else...the barn, the tanks. I can use the milk tanks. Just have to get there,' Maggie thought, slowly rising from the table and walking out the door. As soon as she reached the yard, she began squeezing her breasts again, extracting more of her white cream. She was soaked by now, but that didn't matter, so long as she could get the milk to stop flowing.

She reached the barn and slipped inside, turning on some of the lights to better see the milking stalls. She stumbled over to one of the stations, turning on the quiet pump with practiced motions. She sat down on the tile, enjoying the cool ceramic on her heated skin. She looked at the large cups of the pump, hesitating a moment before gently letting them seal over her nipples. The sensation was odd, the suction creating a perfect seal using the abundant flesh of her chest, but that didn't really matter. Maggie could feel milk still leaking from her teats and decided with a nervous gulp to just get it over with. She reached over and turned on the pump properly, the quiet drone signaling as it went to work.

"Oh, ooh, oooooooohhh...." she moaned as the pumps started draining her chest. The small thrills of pleasure she got from milking herself were so utterly lacking compared to the draining suction she felt from the milk pump. Her eyes fluttered and her mouth went slack at the feeling, the pulses of pleasure bouncing between her brain and the slit between her legs. She had to quickly grab some hanging chains to keep herself upright, half hanging from them as her milk was sucked away with steady, rolling bliss.

'Want to cum,' Maggie thought. The notion would have been foreign to the girl that rarely ever masturbated just hours ago, but now the need consumed her. Her hands ached to dive between her legs, but neither one could be spared from the task of keeping her upright. Instead, she had to suffer through and sit there, hoping the steady thrum of pleasure in her body was enough. She could just barely feel what waited on the other side of that orgasm, the promise of more milking, more draining, more happiness, and a bliss that would consume her poor, overwhelmed teen mind into a happy stupor of cumming and lactation.

'Not yet,' she heard a familiar voice say suddenly. Maggie jumped a little, a slightly stronger spurt of milk escaping her teats. She looked around the empty milking barn, but there was no one there but herself. Then she realized that the words that had been on loop in her mind had quieted, and the voice that had spoken them was now speaking calmly in her head.

'That is not for you yet. But it can be. Is that what you want?' Maggie nodded, her quietly ecstatic body trembling at each word that resounded in her mind. 'You will reach that threshold. First, spread your gift. Give others what you were given. Make them like you. Then you will be fulfilled.' The voice faded and her mind was quiet for the first time all day. Her breasts finally ran dry, the overabundant flesh shrinking down to just barely larger than it had been when she woke up.

In a daze, Maggie unhooked herself from the milking machine and walked back into the house, her mind in a tranquil state of calm despite the overwhelming pleasure that she had felt only a few minutes prior. With her breasts finally empty, the feelings had faded with depressing speed, leaving her morose and sad. Sparing another look behind her at the now dark barn, Maggie went back inside the farmhouse, trying to think how she could 'spread her gift'.

As the nineteen-year-old walked through the dark kitchen, her eyes landed on the large bowl sitting on the table, abandoned when it had been filled. Now, the creamy milk sat there, strangely enticing to Maggie. She didn't hesitate to pop her finger into the contents of the bowl and bringing a drop of the liquid to her mouth. The moment she tasted it, the teen immediately knew what she had to do. Hurrying to the fridge, she took out the gallon of normal milk that hid there. Without hesitation, she dumped the entire gallon down the sink, watching as the cream disappeared into the drain. Then, with careful hands, she refilled the empty jug with her own milk, until the bowl was empty and the container was full. Quickly licking up the lone escaped droplet, Maggie put the full jug back in the fridge and hurried to bed, eager to wake up in the morning and see exactly how her family would be 'made like her'.