Apron ---> Breast Pumps

I review, and I ponder. The way men would, during sexually stimulating activities which I would not call intercourse, due to the lack of reproductive intent, although 'I' would absolutely refer to it as such... Ahem. The way that during that men would suckle and lap at 'my' nipples during assisted masturbation is quite exciting to 'me,' although 'I' still consider it quite shameful. Or rather, 'I' am considered shameful by 'my' peers.

Why? Is it not natural for an udder to yield milk? For what reason should a woman bear such magnificently efficient sources of shared nutrients if not to share them with others? Yes, of course, they may feed the young, but if a fully-grown adult specimen is in need as well, should it not be natural for them to partake? Does it not fulfill the same purpose and role as a caregiver?

Humans are contradictory things, I have found.

Still, this persecution does not please me, and it does not please 'me' either. Therefor, I shall correct it. It seems that, when 'I' am prompted to reflect upon this and consider that the root of these thoughts is how it seems to make the partaking humans seem more like mundane and unintelligent animals than the civilized beings they interpret themselves as.

How silly: Humans are animals - simply too aware and thoughtful that they confuse themselves for anything else.

I briefly consider correcting this misunderstanding, but it is one 'I' wish to hold, and fear terribly losing sight of... so I shall allow it. I do not want to harm 'myself,' after all. Then, I shall instead make the process more "civilized."

The purpose of an apron is to protect against spills upon the torso, however 'my' apron simply cannot restrain 'my' teats, and 'I' have - with some assistance - long since given up on such a silly notion as modesty regardless. But if the problem is the suckling of men upon 'my' bare and naked teats, then I shall simply make them no longer bare and naked.

I replace 'Apron' with 'Breast Pumps.'

Cloth crawls back up and over 'my' enormous nutrient-dispensers, although it still fails to cover the whole of them, and a pair of small devices of peculiar artifice bore their way through the cloth and clamp themselves upon the teats. These are affixed to small thin tubes, and enchanted in a quaint way so as to draw forth 'my' milk as if from a straw.

There, men may now partake of 'my' nutrients without needing lower themselves to such base and perfectly natural behavior as suckling directly from the source. 'I' feel disappointed, even as 'I' am relieved at the reduction in "accidental" bites and similar sources of discomfort, and I cannot help but share the sentiment.

Because the silly humans around 'me' still are not satisfied. very well, I flex just a little more upon the reality and their fragile minds through the reflection of 'my' memory and... There. It is perfectly acceptable and, indeed, expected for a woman of 'my' stature to share milk of her bountiful teats with those who seek to partake, regardless of age.

This widens the tear to my true self further, and space begins to warp and glow. I roll my metaphorical, infinite eyes. Humans. Silly, contradictory creatures. I will mend it when I am done.

Now, what to do next?

(maid possessed by an eldritch creature, wavy light-green hair, breast pumps, maid uniform, surprised expression, productively massive gigantic milky mammalian udders, hairband, stockings, modest skirt, floating in space)