Nursing bra

The bra proves easy enough to put on. It's a little loose on your current form, and your cheerleader's flexibility makes it a simple task to reach back and fasten the clasp. Once again, the tingle of transformation builds and your already impressive rack swells even larger until you are practically spilling out of the satin cups and the straps dig into your shoulders as they struggle to support the extra weight.

"Holy shit," you groan, tugging at the bra in an effort to get your massive new tits comfortable, "These things are huge, and they ache."

You give them a gentle squeeze in an effort to find some relief and while it does help it also causes two damp patches to appear in the fabric.

"What the fuck?" you gasp tugging your boobs free, "What is that? Is that milk?"

Thin white liquid drips from your dark nipples, making it clear that you are indeed lactating.

It feels pretty weird to have stuff leaking out of your breasts, but it's not much weirder than having breasts in the first place.

"So, I guess that was one of mom's old maternity bras?" you say a little redundantly, "Proving that I can change specific body parts and those parts are, fully functional?"

Your dad nods his agreement, seemingly satisfied with the results of his experiments, but there are still plenty of clothes in the bundle he'd brought with him. What other tests might he be planning?