One Month Later

One month had passed since the wedding and your return from Dominara.

Your body had settled into its new reality. The intense, overwhelming side effects had gradually calmed, leaving behind a more stable — yet still deeply changed — version of yourself.

Your breasts had grown to a full, heavy DDD cup. They were round, soft, and perfectly shaped, sitting high on your chest with sensitive, slightly darker nipples. They no longer leaked randomly throughout the day. Now, they only produced milk when properly stimulated — especially when sucked, just like a lactating mother. The flow was rich and sweet, and Dorothy had become completely addicted to it.

Your long, silky hair now reached the middle of your back, falling in soft waves that Dorothy loved to wrap around her fist.

The endless, **** craving for cum had faded into something more manageable. You still loved the taste of Dorothy’s cum — you craved it during sex and happily swallowed every load — but it no longer consumed your thoughts when she wasn’t using you. Your mood swings had also stabilized. You felt calmer, more emotionally balanced, though still deeply submissive toward your wife.

It was a quiet Sunday morning.

You woke up early, as always, and prepared Dorothy’s coffee. You were completely naked except for your permanent pink gold collar. Your heavy DDD breasts swayed gently as you moved around the kitchen, the little bell on your tongue jingling softly.

When you brought the tray to the bedroom, Dorothy was already awake, leaning against the headboard with a lazy smile.

“Come here, my beautiful wife.”

You set the tray down and crawled onto the bed. Dorothy immediately pulled you into her arms and latched onto your right breast. She sucked hungrily, moaning as warm, sweet milk flowed into her mouth. She drank deeply, eyes half-closed in pleasure, while her hand gently kneaded your other breast.

“Mmm… fuck, your milk tastes even better today,” she murmured against your soft flesh, switching to the other nipple. She drank from you for a long time, savoring every drop like fine wine.

When she was satisfied, she pulled you down and kissed you, letting you taste your own milk on her tongue.

“You’ve become such a perfect little milker,” she whispered proudly. “I love drinking from my wife every morning.”

She rolled you onto your back and slid between your legs. Her thick cock pushed inside your ass slowly, filling you completely. She fucked you with deep, loving strokes while continuing to play with your breasts — squeezing them, sucking them, and occasionally drinking more milk straight from the source.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said between thrusts, “we should get you properly milked every day. Maybe even invest in a breast pump so I can have fresh milk whenever I want… or bottle it for special occasions.”

She kissed you again, harder this time.

“I love this version of you, Slutcunt. Calm. Beautiful. Leaking only for me. Still addicted to my cum… but no longer broken by it.”

She picked up speed, fucking you harder as she chased her orgasm. When she finally came, she buried herself deep and filled you with a thick morning load, groaning against your neck.

Afterwards, she kept you in her arms, gently stroking your long hair and cupping one of your heavy breasts.

“This is how I always wanted my wife,” she whispered contentedly. “Soft tits full of milk, long hair to pull, and a warm, willing hole always ready for me.”

She kissed your collar.

“And you’re going to stay like this for the rest of your life, Mrs. Voss.”