The Custody Discussion

A week after the confrontation at the front door, Mark returned.

This time, it was by formal invitation. Dorothy had arranged a meeting at the house to discuss custody of Luke — their 18-year-old son.

You were dressed (somewhat) appropriately for the occasion: a modest but still revealing white sundress that clung to your heavy DDD breasts. The outline of your cage and the faint jiggle of your milk-filled tits were still noticeable, but at least you weren’t completely naked.

Dorothy allowed you to sit beside her on the sofa like a proper wife — a rare privilege. She kept one hand possessively on your thigh, occasionally squeezing it.

Mark sat across from you both, looking tense and exhausted. His eyes kept flicking to your transformed body — the long hair, the large breasts, the visible collar — before looking away in discomfort.

Dorothy spoke first, calm and authoritative.

“I let you have Luke for the entire summer under the pretense that you needed more time with him. But now that the summer is almost over, I want him back. Most of the time.”

Mark’s jaw tightened.

“You used our son as an excuse to do… that to him,” he said, gesturing at you with disgust. “You turned his best friend into… whatever the hell this is. And now you want Luke back?”

Dorothy smiled calmly, stroking your thigh.

“Luke is my son. I carried him. I raised him. You were barely around. The only reason I sent him to you was so I could have uninterrupted time to properly train my new wife.”

She squeezed your thigh affectionately.

“And as you can see… the results have been excellent.”

Mark looked sick.

“You’re insane. I’m not letting you turn Luke into some kind of… project like you did to his friend.”

Dorothy’s expression turned cold.

“You don’t have a choice, Mark. Legally, I have full custody. I only let you have him for the summer as a courtesy. Now that Slutcunt is properly broken and trained, I want my son back where he belongs — with his mother… and his new stepmother.”

She gently pulled you closer and kissed your temple.

You sat there silently beside her, cheeks burning with shame, breasts heavy and occasionally leaking slightly into your dress.

Mark stared at you for a long moment.

“Do you even remember who you were?” he asked you directly, voice cracking. “You were supposed to spend the summer with Luke… and now look at you. Sitting there like a fucking pet.”

Dorothy’s grip on your thigh tightened warningly.

You swallowed, the bell on your tongue jingling softly, and answered quietly:

“I… I’m Slutcunt Voss now. Dorothy’s wife.”

Mark looked like he wanted to vomit.

Dorothy smiled victoriously.

“You see? She’s happy. She’s fulfilled. And Luke will be much happier living with both his mother and his new stepmother. We can arrange visitation for you, of course. Every other weekend, perhaps.”

Mark stood up abruptly.

“I’m going to fight this. I’m not letting you destroy our son the way you destroyed him.”

Dorothy remained seated, perfectly calm.

“You can try, Mark. But we both know how that will end. I have the money. I have the lawyers. And I have the law of Dominara behind me now.”

She gently pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you possessively, one hand resting on your swollen breast.

“Run along now. I’ll have my lawyers contact yours about the new custody arrangement.”

Mark left without another word, slamming the door behind him.

The moment he was gone, Dorothy slipped her hand under your dress and squeezed your breast, milking you gently.

“You were such a good girl during that meeting,” she purred, kissing your neck. “Sitting like a proper wife while your husband’s ex tried to shame you.”

She pinched your nipple, drawing a thin stream of milk onto her fingers and feeding it to you.

“Now… let’s celebrate my victory. Get on your knees and thank your husband properly for winning custody of your best friend’s future.”