Me

The messenger isn't hard to find, the ship isn't that big: Most of the structure is either cargo space or machinery of various kinds…and it helps that there are labels on the doors and it's right across from the barracks: I was definitely tired when I went to bed. I check the comm unit in my armor… apparently I slept for twelve hours.

Taking a breath, I step into the mess… which is about as crowded as the barracks. Seating for six around a long narrow table, everything is made of metal. There's some cabinets… but I don't check them, because the others are already sitting down looking dour. At least this time they don't stop talking when I come in.

“...that bad?” Bob cringes, which looks pretty scary on his lizard-like frame and those carnivor’s teeth.

“Well…” Gregory considers, “...if we stop drinking coffee…” everyone groans, and I totally get why, “...and limit ourselves to field rations…” everyone cringes at the idea of those tasteless blocks of nutrition, “...and eat every other day…” again, everyone cringes, “...then we have enough UPBs left to make enough food to keep us alive for about half the trip.”

I cringe, “Literally facing starvation, then?”

“Yes,” Frank confirms, “It's a bad way to go.”

I nod, biting my way too plump lip, “Okay then. Umm… I can make… sustenance… without any real limit, but it's…” I take a slow breath, “...embarrassing.”

Bob nods slowly, “literally life or ****. If it means we all get to live, we promise to have the utmost respect and discretion.”

“I'm cursed… blessed, technically, but it was applied specifically to mess with me, so…” I shrug as I take another deep breath, “...I make milk in unlimited, magical supply.”

Bob tilts his head, “How's that…”

Frank interrupts before the lizard puts his foot too far in his mouth, his face slowly turning red, “It's a warm blooded breeding thing. Most warm blooded infants are born before their digestive tract is fully functional, so the female parent's body produces ‘milk’, a highly nutritious and healthy liquid that's easy to digest, so that the child doesn't need to deal with real food until the body is capable of handling it. Under normal circumstances in most cultures, the portions of a woman's anatomy that produce milk are kept covered, and the only people permitted access are the aforementioned infants, the women themselves, plus lovers. Those organs are considered very, very private, the same as most other reproductive organs.”

Gregory swallows, his face also turning crimson, then takes a deep slow breath as well to add more context for the lizard man, "those portions of anatomy also tend to be very delicate, and are sometimes also erogenous zones… and it requires contact to extract the milk. She's not quite offering to mate with us, but it's very close, and it's possible - likely, even - that many of the same emotional issues and responses will come up as if she did. We will need to be very mindful that emotions are going to run very high all around… including for Frank and I.”

Bob nods slowly, looking me in the eyes, “So you're willing to compromise yourself for our survival… thank you.” He considers, and looks around the table “Does anyone else have any alternatives? We should absolutely explore all potential options before taking anyone up on such an offer.”

I glance around the table, and find Bob's the only one who meets my gaze in the silence as I feel the heat creep up my face. I suppose it's all theoretical for him, so it's easier.

I take a deep breath to steel myself, “Okay then… breakfast time, I guess…” blushing furiously, I take off the top of my armor, exposing my massive milk makers, the taps already at attention from the embarrassment. Bob still looks me in the eye… while Frank and Gregory openly stare for a few moments before walking slowly over like awkward newborn fans, each tentatively and gently grabbing hold of my softness with their hands, kneeling, and gently putting their lips on my taps.

Their touch is electric, zapping through my being, so much stronger than when I was just touching myself. I hear a woman moaning… weird, who… but can't sort it out as my knees buckle and the two mammalian men catch me, setting me gently on the table as they keep sucking. The feathers of my wings cushioning me… but I long for the touch of the cool metal to quench this burning heat… I shudder as I hear a woman screaming out in desire, and I lose track of time.

After a wonderful eternity of bliss, the two men stop, and I pant a bit as I sit up.

Bob licks his eyes, “And you'll be going through this for every meal?”

I'm feeling quite floaty… “Slim pickings… embarrassing, loud, and messy, but it will keep us all fed, at least…” I smile contentedly, “...and at least it feels really good.” Well… there's some wet spots on my chest where I wasn't expecting it… I look down, and see a couple of ropes of white, sticky liquid clinging to me, and glance at the two guys… who are suddenly quite busy closing their pants… I've seen Gregory's; Frank's is slightly longer, but also thinner. I shrug, “Well… I can't say I blame you for that.” Oh, man I feel good. I also feel… hollow and unfulfilled at the same time. Maybe I should be more concerned about this, but I'm having a bit of trouble feeling anything but good right now.

“So they weren't exaggerating, then…” the lizard man nods, “...they were understating the case, if anything. Umm… may I?”

I nod, eyes half-lidded as I smile warmly, “Yeah… it's why they're out… I'll need to do the same soon myself, as biologically impossible as that is. Just, umm… watch the teeth.”

He licks his eyes, “Not an issue…” and proceeds to show me as Gregory and Frank make room. Bob just uses his tongue, exclusively… which isn't nearly so debilitatingly pleasurable, so I feast on my own white Ambrosia myself while he gets his fill… and I end up going off again.

Once I've fed us all, I head back to the barracks for another shower….