Trained for Milking (3 page)

Drake gave me a
funny look when I almost dropped the bar onto my breasts, my back
arching in confused delight. Everything felt so good, and I hated it.
I had no control, my body was obsessed with pleasure.

I need to get out
of here.

“
Freya,”
he sighed, taking the bar from me and helping me sit up. “Can
you come with me to my office, please?”

His office?
The
concept seemed strange, but I gave a meek nod and followed him
through the gym.

The
door was small, almost hidden, and he led me inside. Nothing in the
place struck me as off, there was a desk and some chairs, but
otherwise it was quite normal.

“
Freya,”
he began again, shaking his head at me. “I'm starting to get
worried that you aren't committed to this.”

“
What?”
I balked, unsure what he meant.

“
You're
not focusing.” Exasperation in his voice, he shrugged in
sadness. “I can tell your mind isn't on what we're doing.”

Wiping
the back of my neck, I tried to figure out what to say. “Drake,
um, it isn't that...”

“
Then
what?”

I
stared at him, then the floor, uncomfortable and unsure what to say.
Could I tell him what was wrong? His hands on my shoulders shocked
me, making me gawk up at his sudden nearness, the sympathetic gleam
to his eyes. “Freya, please, tell me what's wrong.”

Can I tell him?

“
You're going
to think I'm crazy,” I muttered. His grip tightened, his tone
soft, caring.

“
I swear I
won't.”

Blushing, my face
hot, I stepped back and pressed my fingers to my cleavage gently.
“Um, well, something's been... wrong with me these past few
days.”

His face was blank,
and I almost backed out of this. “What do you mean?”

“
My breasts,”
I blurted, plowing along with a grimace. “Ugh, this sounds so
stupid. But, well, my chest is growing somehow.”

I didn't think he
would laugh, so when he did, I watched him in silent shame. “Sorry,”
he scratched at the back of his head. “It just seems weird, is
all. I've had girls try to sleep with me before, but never with that
line.”

What?

Baffled, I shook my
head rapidly. “No, no, I'm not hitting on you!”

“
No? Come on,
Freya, I could tell you were into me when we were working out.”
His eyebrow lifted, and he looked me up and down as if seeing me for
the first time. “But I don't sleep with clients. Sorry. I'll
see you tomorrow, alright?”

He turned away, and
I grabbed his arm in desperation. “I'm not flirting with you!
Something
is
wrong with me!”

Drake pulled away,
looking offended, his mouth a tight line. “Yeah, I'm not
doubting that. Look, last chance. I don't sleep with clients. Go
home, get some rest, and tomorrow we'll do this again.”

He left me in his
office, not turning around as the door shut behind him. I could only
stare, amazed by what had just gone down.
Is he right, am I crazy?
Looking down at my chest, the way it strained at my sports bra, I
knew I couldn't be. On a whim, I lifted it up, revealing one more
thing that knocked it all back into the realm of impossible reality.

The wet patches on
the material were from my breasts, but not from sweating. No, I was
staring at rivulets of creamy white; milk, from my tits.

I almost called
Drake back, but instead, I covered myself once more.
He doesn't
believe me, don't make it worse.

When I left the gym,
I didn't have my baggy shirt, and instead had to run home listening
to the perverted shouts and wolf whistles of anyone who saw my
obscenely bouncing breasts.

****

The next morning,
when I woke up, I didn't remember my dreams.

I didn't even care.

I was horny,
insanely warm, my skin on fire. Furiously, my fingers worked at my
pussy, rubbing circles around my plump clit. It took little time for
me to get myself off, the ripples of pleasure jolting down to my
toes. Again, and again, I slid my fingers into my soaked tunnel,
stroking the roof and feeling my muscles clench.

When that no longer
worked, I started massaging my tits, feeling conflicted about
enjoying the way the creamy flesh yielded in my hands. My breasts
were easily bigger than my palms could hold, I felt like a porn star,
honestly.

But like before, I
didn't care. I just wanted to cum.

Tugging at my hard
nipples, I felt the first warm burst of milk. This, finally, made me
halt my lustful adventures.

This is too much,
I can't handle this. Why am I lactating, why are my breasts growing?

Sitting up gingerly,
I looked at the clock, surprised that I was actually awake before
Drake called. I realized I could avoid going in, but through
everything, my goal was still clear.

I stood, eyeing
myself in the mirror and smiling. I could see a hint of muscle on my
stomach now, and my ass looked firmer, too. Maybe Drake was right,
maybe he
could
get me ready for the fitness model gig.

Will they take me
with my breasts as big as they are, now?

The current problem
seemed to be my issue with what to wear.

Struggling into a
halter top, I gawked at the sight of myself and laughed. I was a
walking wet dream, the clothing left nothing to the imagination.
Shaking my head, watching the dampness spread from my milk laden
tits, I knew I couldn't do it.

I wonder if Drake
will believe me now.

Slipping on some
panties, knowing they, too, would become damp from my constantly
aroused body, I lifted my phone to make the call. I'd have to tell
him I couldn't do it, I couldn't go out like this. I needed a new
wardrobe, and maybe a visit to my doctor.

The phone rang twice
before he answered, and I tried to calm my voice. Somehow, Drake made
me so unsure, so nervous. “Uh, hey, Drake?”

“
Hey! What's
up, Freya? I'm glad to hear your voice so early.”

I gave a weak
giggle, casting a glance at my reflection again. “Right. Uh,
hey, listen. I'm not sure I can come in today--”

“
Wait, why?
Too sore?”

I opened my mouth to
answer, then found myself agreeing. “Right! Yeah, too sore,
so...”

“
Well, hm.
That's too bad. But look, how about this. Come in, and we'll just
stretch you out. No workout, okay?”

“
I, um,
that...”

“
Seeya soon!”
He hung up, and I just buried my face in my hands. Why hadn't I just
canceled? Now, I had to show up, or he'd be angry at me for leaving
him high and dry.

Maybe it will be
fine. No working out, I think I can make it through that.

Inhaling deeply,
watching my chest expand with the motion, I pulled on another baggy
shirt and hurried to the gym.

****

Surprisingly, the
Fitness Box was empty when I got there.

Standing in the
reception area, I looked around in confusion, waiting for Drake. I
didn't stand around long, the handsome trainer appeared and waved at
me as he approached.

“
Where is
everyone?” I asked.

“
Oh, normally
I close this place on Sundays. But since you're being trained by me
personally, I opened it just for you.” His grin made me feel
even worse about trying to ditch. “So, shall we?”

My nod was hesitant,
but I trailed after him towards the yoga room. My arms, self
consciously, kept adjusting my halter top beneath my shirt. The yoga
room was covered in padding, and there was a small pillow in the
middle of the floor.

“
Just lay
here, face down, and I'll help you from getting more sore as the days
go by.”

Biting my lip
sideways, I knelt on the ground and stretched out on my stomach. My
breasts squished into the floor, making it awkward for me to lay my
face on the pillow.
My chest is in the way, ugh.

My irritation flowed
away when Drake sat on the middle of my back, a gentle pressure that
still made my heart flutter. His fingers were strong, precise,
digging into my muscles deliciously. It was only minutes before I was
groaning, enjoying the sensation.

Perhaps, honestly, a
bit too much.

I knew something was
wrong when he started massaging my lower back. The ripples went
through my core, straight into my pussy. The contact was turning me
on, and realizing that was making it worse. My nipples, pressed into
the hard floor, felt teased, aching for attention.

Every stroke of his
hands made me tremble, my breathing quickening. The warmth tingled in
my chest, the wetness flowing abruptly.
Oh, fuck, no! Milk is
coming out again!

Drake was oblivious,
concentrating on working me out. “Roll over so I can stretch
your legs, now.”

I didn't want to, I
knew what he would see if I did. But he nudged me gently, insistent,
and I obeyed. Shifting onto my back, I was grateful to see that the
wet tips of my nipples hadn't soaked through my halter top into my
shirt yet.

He grabbed my foot,
lifting it up and locking my knee. “Relax,” he
instructed, and I did my best. Carefully, he leaned over me, forcing
my leg towards my face.

The tightness in my
hip, it made my panties dig into my slit, my stretch pants a second
skin. I was sure, if he looked, he'd see the outline of my pussy,
perhaps the bump of my swelling clit. I breathed out, my body heating
with the flush of arousal.

I was too sensitive,
acutely aware of everything. His touch, his smell, and he seemed
oblivious to the obvious signs of my body crying out. “Good,”
he smiled down at me, pushing my leg further. “That's very
good.”

Oh god, he needs
to stop, I'm going crazy!

His hands slid down
from my ankle, stroking my thigh and raising goosebumps. He came
dangerously close to my pussy, inches away, and I felt myself twitch
with desire.
Fuck, I want him to touch me. Why?
Something in
me was craving something, any sort of attention from this man.

Drake grabbed my
other foot, pushing it up beside the first, my ass tilted into the
air and my cunt so close to him. His hips were almost resting on me,
his pelvis inches from my own. If he leaned in, I was sure he could
kiss me.

I was panting now, I
couldn't control it. My blood pumped, my skin electric, and still he
seemed to not notice. His touch rolled down my legs again, stopping
right on the sides on my lower lips, digging into my ass cheeks.
“Your glutes are tight,” he admonished.

Please, please,
just touch me there!

I couldn't bare it
anymore. I lifted my head, eyes shut, seeking his lips with my own.
Nothing but air met me, and I felt his hands on my shoulders, holding
me still. Fluttering my lashes, I stared at him in confusion. That
disapproval made the back of my neck prickle.

“
What are you
doing?” He frowned harshly.

“
I... I just
thought...” My heart thumped, his denial doing little to calm
my furious arousal.

“
I told you, I
don't sleep with clients.”

“
Please!”
I heard my own desperation and flushed, but I sat up, my hands
touching his wrists. “I can't take it, I'm going crazy, I
need...”

“
You
need?
”
Drake wrinkled his forehead, laughing softly. “It's that bad,
is it? You want to fuck me so much, you don't even care what I
think?”

“
It's not
that.” The way he phrased that made me feel terrible, but the
way his skin felt under my hands made my pussy tighten. “Something
is wrong with me. You don't believe me, but it's... Look.” I
didn't care anymore. I lifted my shirt, tossing it aside. My halter
top was soaked, and Drake looked shocked.

“
What's that,
Freya?”