Ask the stone servants about the artifact you seek while learning to balance your new form

"While we walk, can you tell me about the artifact I'm seeking?" you ask, trying to sound casual as you take tentative steps between Meret and Bastet. Your transformed breasts sway heavily despite the binding, sending waves of sensation through your body with each movement.

Bastet's marble features remain impassive. "We serve the temple's transformation rituals. The artifact is not within our domain of knowledge."

You stumble slightly, milk sloshing audibly inside your engorged breasts. The caps collect most of it, but a few drops escape, running down your skin in warm rivulets.

"Perhaps," you try again, breathing heavily from the exertion of balancing, "you could tell me where it's kept? Or what it looks like?"

Meret's stone hand steadies you, her touch cool against your feverish skin. "The sacred object resides in the innermost sanctum. Only those who complete all transformations may approach it."

You attempt to walk more independently, pulling away slightly from their supporting hands. Your new center of gravity immediately betrays you. Your massive breasts swing forward violently, pulling you into an uncontrolled stumble.

"Careful!" Bastet warns, too late.

You crash to your knees, the impact sending shockwaves through your milk-laden breasts. The collection caps pop off from the pressure, and twin fountains of milk spray forth from your nipples. The sudden release triggers an unexpected wave of pleasure that makes you cry out, your enhanced pussy clenching in sympathetic response.

"The temple has transformed you thoroughly," Meret observes, kneeling beside you. "Your body seeks to fulfill its new purpose."

You gasp as the milk continues flowing, each pulse sending jolts of pleasure through your entire being. "Which is what, exactly?" you manage to ask through clenched teeth.

"To nourish," Bastet answers, collecting your dislodged caps. "To feed the worthy with your sacred milk."

Meret's stone fingers wrap around your right breast, squeezing gently to demonstrate. Milk shoots from your nipple in a pressurized stream, and you moan involuntarily as intense pleasure radiates from the point of contact.

"Stop!" you plead, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"You must learn control," Meret insists, continuing to manipulate your breast. "Feel how the milk moves within you. Understand its flow."

Her expert touch sends you spiraling toward unwanted arousal. Your clit throbs visibly, your pussy lips swelling and glistening with moisture that has nothing to do with milk.

"Please," you whisper, ashamed of how your body betrays you. "I need to rest."

"The artifact cannot be found by one who cannot master their new form," Bastet says, replacing one of the collection caps while Meret continues milking your other breast. "The trials ahead will require complete control of your gifts."

You close your eyes, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure. Meret's rhythmic squeezing feels like the most exquisite ****, each pulse of milk drawing a moan from your lips despite your resistance.

"Listen to your body," Meret instructs. "Feel the milk's passage. Direct it with your will."

You try to concentrate on the sensation, to understand rather than just experience it. There's a subtle muscle you've never used before, deep within your breast tissue. With tremendous effort, you manage to contract it, controlling the milk flow for a brief moment.

"Yes," Bastet encourages. "That is the beginning of mastery."

Meret releases your breast at last, replacing the second collection cap. "Practice is required. The purification chamber awaits, where you will learn to use your gifts to proceed deeper into the temple."