Dairy Donor

Vanessa was relaxing in her living room when she heard a knock at her door. Confused, she quickly makes her way to the front. Peeking through the window, Vanessa saw a large man in a nice suit waiting outside her door. He had an impatient expression on his face so Vanessa didn’t want to make him wait any longer. Opening the door, Vanessa was really able to tell how much bigger he was than her, straining her neck to make eye contact.

“You are Vanessa, right?” The man asked, his voice deep and booming.

“Yes, I am. How can I help you?” She replied, worried that she was in some sort of trouble.

“I am here to inform you that you have been selected to be a Dairy Donor through the Body Type Registry.” He said, and Vanessa’s heart sank.

“What is a Dairy Donor?” Vanessa asked, although she was pretty sure she had an idea of what it was.

“A Dairy Donor is a woman who has been determined to have physical characteristics that are suited to producing high quality milk.” He said gesturing towards her chest. “You will be required to take these **** every day to induce lactation. You will be supplied with a milking machine that we suggest using even before you start lactating. After two weeks we will come back to check on you and you should have started producing by then. We will then collect your milk, and this will be repeated for an undetermined amount of time. If you are found to be avoiding your responsibilities you will be punished accordingly. Any questions or concerns you have should be sent to the appropriate people.” He holds out a bottle of pills in one hand and a travel bag that presumably contains the milking machine.

“Is there anything I can do to get out of this?” Vanessa asked, still processing all of the information.

“No miss, there is not. This is necessary for the good of others and I hope you comply with this.” He said, his expression never changing.

“Okay.” Vanessa replied in defeat, taking the bottle and bag from the man.

Soon she was alone again in her living room. Vanessa stared at the now opened bag and the pills. She couldn’t believe what was being asked of her. Looking at the machine, the idea of it pumping her nipples and milking her like a cow was so degrading. It went against everything she stood for, literally reducing her to her breasts. But what choice did she have? If she didn’t do it she would get punished and might experience something worse. However, how could they possibly enforce something like this? She is her own person.