Some production of the dairy variety

(This chapter is part of a multichapter smut scene.)

Before you can react, a pillar of green lights bursts out of the ground beneath you. When the light fades, you’re left wearing nothing but some cowprint elbow gloves and a matching pair of thigh highs.

“AH!” you squeak, covering yourself up out of reflex despite being alone in the room.

Another light shoots up from the floor, and you suddenly find yourself bent over at ninety degrees with your hands and head stuck in a stainless steel pillory. There are cuffs around your ankles to lock you in place, too. At least it’s all padded for comfort, but you’re still not very comfortable being dressed like a cow and locked up!

“H-Hey! Someone help me! Get me out of here!” you shout in a panic.

Right on cue, Blaire walks through the door holding an ice cream cone. The ice cream hits the floor as soon as she lays eyes on the present you’ve accidentally arranged for her while she was gone. “E-Emilia!? You came back! And you even volunteered yourself for one of my experiments! I really needed an ideal subject for my lactation cream. A girl so endowed in the chest and deficient in the head is a godsend! Let’s get started right away.”

“Wait, no, it’s a misunderstanding…” As much as you try to explain it away, nobody could believe you ended up this way on accident, least of all Blaire. By the time you’ve finished your preposterous story, she’s already dragged over a wooden stool so she can sit beside you. She has this whole high-tech lab, and she still chose something you’d find in a barn…

Blaire declares, “Starting the experiment… now!” She dramatically presses a button on her portable tablet to signify the worsening of your unfortunate predicament.

The robotic voice from earlier states, “Beginning Stage 1 of the procedure: Lactation Induction.”

A pair of mechanical arms pops out of the ground, each one holding a soft, circular brush on the end. They look like the things in car washes. They’re also covered in a weird cream. Before you can ask what they’re for, they press right up against your tits and start spinning rapidly! You yelp at the sudden, intense stimulation, but it gets nothing but a chuckle from Blaire. In just a few seconds, you can already feel the milk building up in your big, heavy pillows. The brushes continue, sliding all over your tits and lathering them in a warm, tingling feeling that somehow feels really good… Your arousal from earlier comes back to haunt you, causing love juices to already start running down your thighs. Why do your big boobs have to be so troublesomely sensitive!? A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, and Blaire takes immediate note.

“I designed this process to be as enjoyable as possible. I’m glad you’re finding it pleasant,” she says cheerfully.

Trying to hold in any more moans, you croak out, “I’m… not… enjoying it…”

Blaire stands up and walks behind you, where she witnesses your wet pussy leaking girl juices all over your legs. She replies, “I’m pretty sure you’re lying, Emilia. This is science, so you have to be honest, okay? At least your body is really honest to make up for it!” She follows it up with a thwap against your ass, making you lurch in your bindings as she giggles and returns to her seat.

Embarrassing pleasure continues welling up inside you as your boobs grow heavy with milk. The spinning brushes are relentless, polishing your pale tits and rubbing cream deep into your skin until it’s soft, smooth, and gleaming. You can’t even suppress your voice anymore, leading to a chorus of slutty moans and a few more delighted chuckles from Blaire. Your boobs feel swollen, your nipples are as hard as rocks, and your milk is ready to gush at any moment. Even worse, there’s a tightness in your unattended pussy, and your lower lips are starting to twitch. This machine isn’t just gonna make you lactate, it’s gonna make you cum from your tits alone!

“H-Heyyy Blaire? Can we *OHH* stop? Or t-take a *AHHH* break?”

“Nope!” she answers eagerly. “This is the best part. Milk time!”

It’s… coming out…

“*Nhoooh!*” you moan, trying and failing to bottle your milk up inside with sheer will. Dairy squirts out of your ivory cow tits, inducing an immediate sense of shame which clashes with the carefree cheer coming from Blaire beside you. The unwanted pleasure of lactating is so strong that it radiates through your body and sets off an orgasm, making your pussy gush girlcum almost as much as your melons are gushing milk. Even as the brushes relent, your boobs are so full that milk continues to passively leak from your stiff, sensitive nipples. For all the times people have rudely called you a dairy cow, you’re not exactly proving them wrong.

“I’m cumming…” you whine.

“I see that!” Blaire notes cheerfully. “And it’s another boob-only orgasm, too. I can always count on you for the most erotic and unexpected orgasms, Emilia! You also lactated much earlier than projected. I’m certain that the effectiveness of the cream is proportionate to breast size. Your easily-induced orgasm, likely the result of your low IQ, must have played a role as well. You see, Emilia? This is why you’re the perfect subject for this experiment! Boobs as big as yours don’t enter my lab often, and that country bumpkin stupidity of yours is the cherry on top!”

“Whatever… You made me lactate. Can I go now?”

“Nope! It’s time to see just how milky your boobs really are!”

Huh?

The robotic voice says, “Beginning Stage 2 of the procedure: Production Volume Measurement.”