KittyDoll
Volume 2
 
By Linda Soft
 
 
Hello again, my name is Linda Soft. Last time, I told you the story of how I ended up in my current, strange situation. Of course, I have a lot of free time now, time to myself, time to think, and time to tell stories to whoever may be listening. I could continue where I left off, but this time there is an older story I want to tell.
 
            Before I begin, I should remind you of what I look like and where I am from. You see, I am a cat girl. My world is very much like yours, with a few exceptions. First, my world is populated by homo-feline, or “cat people”. This makes for little differences in our lifestyle. We usually keep clean by brushing our fur, and our clothing is designed for people with a tail. I have also learned the hard way that there is a little magic to be found here and there.
 
            I am not a very tall girl, I am pleasantly petite. But despite my small frame, I am quite the image of beauty. I have a perfect female shape; I am slender, but curvy where it matters. My fur is pure white and sits smooth on my skin. My hair is long and golden blond. As you might imagine, I also have a blond patch of fur below my waist. I have a long tail, reaching almost to my ankles. You may not understand that last part, but trust me, long tails are sexy.
 
Although all of this makes for a very attractive girl, my most striking feature is my chest. I am a very busty girl. My breasts are not freakishly enormous or anything of that sort, but they are quite big and round. Most women with breasts this large have implants. Mine are real however, and that brings us to my story. You see, they were not always this big…
 
 
Chapter 5
“Another story”
 
 
This happened several years before Clyde came along. I was a young lady in my early twenties. I had just finished college a few months earlier, and was currently looking for employment. I was only looking for secretarial work, but I was having trouble finding it. On this particular day, I was out and about in the city when I ran into a good friend.
 
Mindy was my college roommate for a few years. She is a calico. Her fur is a patchwork of orange, black and white. She has long black hair, but a patch of it grows orange. This gives her a nifty stripe running down the right side. It is quite a striking appearance. She has a nice figure, but her colors are really the first thing you notice. It is good to see my friend again, but I am curious why she is in the area, and why her boobs now look considerably bigger.
 
“So what are you doing in the big city?” I ask her as we sit in a café. “I didn’t think I was going to see you again, since you live way out in the country.”
 
“I had an appointment here,” She tells me, “I did hope to see you Linda, but I didn’t expect that you would find me first. There are so many people here in the city.”
 
“I saw your stripe from down the street” I tell her, “You stand out in a crowd.” Mindy sighs, knowing it’s true. I shifted my gaze to her chest, “Should I guess what your appointment was for? Those look a lot bigger then they did a few months ago.”
 
Mindy smirks, obviously pleased with the change, but she keeps silent about it.
 
“I can’t believe you got implants” I said pointedly.
 
“Well that’s fine, because I didn’t” Mindy says, taunting me.
 
“Mindy! It has only been a couple months since I last saw you, and those are huge now. Do you expect me to believe they aren’t implants?”
 
“I don’t really want to talk about it. It‘s embarrassing.” She says as she stares into her coffee, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic. “Do you really need to know?”
 
“Well,” I pause for a moment to consider her feelings on this obviously sensitive subject, “Yes! You are going to tell me every embarrassing detail!”
 
Mindy sighs and says, “Fine then. I found out about this new way to get bigger breasts. No surgery or implants are involved.”
 
“I haven’t heard of anything like that,” I tell her.
 
“I am sure you haven’t. Not a lot of people know about it. It’s really embarrassing, so the women who do it don’t want to talk about it.” She says, keeping her voice low, “But the end result is bigger breasts, all real.”
 
“Definitely bigger,” I say. “You must have doubled your size. How did you do it?”
 
She pauses, deciding if she wants to answer me or not. “Ok, fine. There is a place you can go to, here in the city. You know how you can go donate blood? Well, at this place, what you do is donate milk.”
 
“What?” I say, surprised.
 
Mindy looks around, concerned that someone nearby may have overheard our conversation. “I know it sounds weird,” she says in a hushed voice, “and it is weird, that’s why I don’t want to talk about it.”
 
“Mindy, that doesn’t even make sense,” I say. “You start with small breasts, then you ‘give milk’, and then you have bigger breasts? Boobs do not work that way.”
 
“I know, I know, but this is different,” She explains, “You go to this place, and they make your breasts start growing and producing milk like crazy for a few days. They collect the milk, and you go home with a bigger bra size.”
 
“I don’t believe that.” I tell her, thinking she is joking with me.
 
“Just look,” she says, gesturing toward her chest. “It worked. My bra size has doubled. You can try it for yourself if you want.”
 
“No way,” I tell her. “There is nothing wrong with my breasts!”
 
“Of course not, but they could be bigger.”
 
“I don’t need them any bigger!” I say, almost laughing.
 
“Did I mention it’s free?”
 
 
Chapter 6
“It’s weird”
 
 
            The next day, I was on my way to the place Mindy told me about. She went home that night, having finished her ‘business’ there in the city. Mindy lived a long way from the city, so unfortunately I never did get a chance to see her again after that.
 
            Mindy had given me a phone number to call. The lady I spoke with over the phone told me that I could come in the next day. So here I am, on my way there, and I keep asking myself, ‘what are you thinking?’ This whole idea is crazy. But then again, there is no reason why I can’t do this. I have the free time, and the idea of a free breast enhancement sounds too good to be true. This time next week, I could be one of those ‘busty’ girls.
 
The woman on the phone gave me some instructions. She said that I should not eat anything for twenty-four hours, so I am feeling very hungry right now. I was also told to wear comfortable clothing with a baggy shirt, and to make sure my apartment was taken care of while I was away.
 
            I arrive at the address, but I stop outside the door. Now is my chance to reconsider. I am already pretty, but I could be beautiful. I am already cute, but I could be sexy. I have a nice body already, but it wouldn’t hurt if my breasts were a little bigger. I try to think of reasons why I shouldn’t do this, but I remember how happy Mindy was with her improved bust.
 
I push the door open and step inside. The lobby is small and uninteresting. The only person in sight is a receptionist. This woman has tan fur, looks to be in her thirties and is rather chubby. Not a very attractive example of my gender.
 
            “Hi, I called yesterday about… making a donation.” I say carefully to the lone receptionist, worried that I might have walked into the wrong building.
 
            “Alright, come on inside and I will explain to you what we will be doing.” We leave the lobby and she takes me to a separate room to talk privately. “What you came in for today is not something most people know about. Most of the young ladies who do this like to keep it a secret, and we prefer it that way. We only take a couple volunteers each year, so we don’t want a lot of publicity. We do not want a line of eager young ladies at our door.”
 
            “So you are saying that I am one of the lucky few?” I ask.
 
            “That’s right. You are the last volunteer we will be taking for quite a while.” She tells me. “Now then, since you are here, you probably already have an idea of what you came in for. Something we need here is milk from healthy young ladies like yourself, and you are volunteering to give it to us.”
 
            “Why do you need it?” I ask. “What will you do with it?”
 
            “We can’t give out that kind of information,” She explains. “All I can tell you is that there are special needs for it and it will be put to good use. Also, before you ask, we will not be paying you anything for it.”
 
            “Right, but I was told that this would make my breasts bigger?”
 
            “That is correct, when we stimulate your milk production; a side affect is breast growth. But it affects all women differently, so we can not predict or control how big yours will become, or how long you will be producing. The best I can tell you is that it should only take a couple of days.”
 
            “Is the size permanent?” I ask.
 
            “Yes. You might lose a little size as any swelling goes away, but your breasts will be larger when you are finished. The drug we use will only affect you once, so if you do not end up as big as you are expecting, there is nothing more we can do for you.”
 
            “Oh, that’s alright, I only want them a little bigger anyway,” I tell her. “Do I need to fill out any paperwork?”
 
            “No. Everyone who comes in here is treated as an anonymous volunteer. So we will not be keeping any records of you. You left your name and identity in the lobby. There will be staff members working with you, but they are not allowed to know anything about you, so don’t be surprised if they aren’t very social with you.”
 
            I nod my head. I am still very nervous about this, but the idea of being completely anonymous sounds good. I think I would prefer that no one ever knows that I came in here.
 
“Before we start, there is one last thing you must understand,” She continues. “We will need to restrain you while you are here. Sometimes you will experience a lot of discomfort while under the drug’s effect and it may make you irrational. It would be very dangerous if you attempted to stop the process early. If we did not restrain you, you might injure yourself or the staff. We can not let you leave until you become resistant to the drug and it stops affecting you.”
 
“I understand,” I tell her. I find it hard to imagine myself trying to ‘escape’, but it sounds like this is for my own safety. I will just let them do whatever they have to do and wait for it to be over. If Mindy got through this alright, I am sure I can too.
 
“Alright then, follow me and we will get started.” We leave that room, and she takes me up to the second floor of the building. We enter a small locker-room and she opens one with a ring of keys. “You can leave your valuables and clothing here. You will need to be topless, but the rest of your clothing is optional. Anything you do not take off now, you will be wearing for the next few days, so you might be more comfortable without it.”
 
“Ok,” I say.
 
“Someone will come by shortly to get you, and I will see you again when you are ready to leave.” She says with a smile.
 
The chubby receptionist leaves the room, and I begin to undress. I stuff my purse and shoes into the locker, along with the shirt I was wearing. I was told to wear a baggy shirt, and this is the loosest fitting one I have. Next, I remove my bra and toss it into the locker, and then I consider my pants for a moment. I would rather not be nude in this strange place, but she said I might regret wearing them all the time. So, I take off my pants and underwear and put them in the locker. But as I stand there completely nude, I change my mind. I decide to take my chances and wear the pants anyway. I grab my panties out of the locker, and while I slip them back on, I accidentally bump the locker door with my butt. I wince, thinking it will slam on my tail, but I hear the loud bang without any tail pain.
 
My tail is uninjured, but as I look at the closed locker, I realize that I can’t unlock it myself. “Oops” is all I can say, as I stand there wearing nothing but a pink pair of panties. My tail twitches as I start to feel nervous again. Soon I will have to walk out of this room wearing practically nothing at all.
 
I only have to wait about a minute before a new woman shows up to fetch me. This one has black fur and short black hair. Just like the pudgy receptionist warned me, this new woman shows no interest in being friendly with me. “Come with me,” she says coldly, so I follow her out of the locker-room and down the hallway. I am nervous, but she has a job to do, so I will just be quiet and follow her directions. She does not seem to care that I am only wearing panties.
 
She leads me into an odd little room, which at first glance looks like one at a dentist’s office. There is a reclined chair in the center, and there is a counter with cabinets and drawers. There are various other objects around the room that look medical.
 
“Sit,” She says, so I slide into the seat and lay back. I start thinking of dentist visits, until I feel something on my arm. I look down to see that the black furred nurse has secured a wide leather strap across my left wrist. This surprises me at first, but then I remember the chubby receptionist saying something about restraining me for my own good.  The strap is about six inches wide, covering most of my forearm. My hand is free to move and I can bend my elbow, but otherwise my arm is now firmly connected to the armrest. She does the same with my right arm and then each of my ankles. I am perfectly comfortable like this, and I have a lot of free movement, but there is no way I could get out of this chair now.
 
While I am distracted by the straps, the nurse obtains something from a nearby cabinet. “Open wide,” she tells me. Thoughts of dentist visits come to mind once again, until she quickly shoves something into my mouth. I try to spit it out, but it seems to be stuck. It feels round, like a ball of some sort. My curiosity quickly turns to terror as something suddenly enters my throat and I can no longer breathe. I start to choke as something long and slender slides deep down my throat. I wiggle and squirm in the chair, desperate for air. I shake my head back and fourth, but the dreadful thing won’t come out of my mouth. Then to my great relief, I find that I can breathe again.
 
I take big gasps of air as the shock begins to fade. Still frightened, I look at the nurse, wondering what horrible thing she will do to me next. But she just stands there calmly, unconcerned that I was just choking. She watches for a moment then asks, “Can you breathe alright now?” I nod my head and she says, “Alright, I will come back in a few hours,” and then she leaves the room, closing and locking the door behind her.
 
I am left sitting here, alone and in silence. I am very confused, a little frightened, and still very hungry. The first thing I do is explore the object in my mouth. The weird rubbery ball seems to be stuck between my jaws somehow. I can’t even budge it. There seems to be a pair of tubes extending from the back of it, right into my throat. This must be what was choking me before, but it seem like I am breathing through it now. Whatever it is, it is a very effective gag. I can’t even make a sound.
 
So here is the situation: I am almost completely nude, I have been strapped down, gagged, and abandoned in this strange room. What does this have to do with what I came here for?
 
“This is weird” I think to myself.
 
 
Chapter 7
“Discomfort”
 
 
I have been in here a while now. I don’t know how long exactly, since there are no clocks in the room. I imagine an hour or more has gone by. Since it is only my arms and legs that are strapped down, I find that I have quite a bit of freedom to move in the seat. I am free to shift and wiggle all I want. My tail is also free to move about, but that does me no good. My tail can’t really do much. It mostly just draws the attention of boys. (I told you a long tail was sexy!)
 
I have not been able to learn anything more about the strange rubber ball. I tried to lean forward in the seat so I can grab it, but I can’t get my mouth close enough to my hand.
 
There is low volume music coming from a speaker in the ceiling, so at least I have something to listen to. All of the excitement and nervousness I felt earlier has faded, so now I am just bored. I have no other options, so now I am just trying to relax and wait patiently. Of course, I don’t really know what it is I am waiting for.
 
As more time passes, I am surprised to discover that I’m not hungry anymore. They asked me not to eat anything, so I was starving when I entered this building, but now the hunger seems to be gone. Could it have something to do with these two strange tubes running into my throat? I know I can breathe through one of them, so maybe they also prevent me from being hungry? I guess one could be a feeding tube of some sort, but that doesn’t make sense. The tubes end at the small rubber ball in my mouth. If it were a feeding tube, there is no source. I decide that this is something I would rather not think about.
 
After a while, I finally start to relax. This chair really is quite comfortable. I let my mind wander and I start to daydream about other things. Not paying much attention, I shift my weight in the seat, trying to get more comfortable. A sudden dull pain snaps me back to reality. I quickly look down at my chest, where the unexpected sensation came from, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. I shift my weight again, to confirm the pain. My breasts are getting sore. I stare down at the two white furry lumps on my chest. They do not look any different, but a quick jerk to the left or right proves that both have become tender. For the next several minutes I just stare at my breasts, wondering what is happening. I would like to rub them, but I can’t move my arms. With the way I am strapped to this chair; my exposed breasts can’t really touch anything but the open air. All I can do is wiggle my chest to feel how tender they are. As more time passes, the dull pain seems to increase.
 
As I sit here, concerned about the strange growing pain on my chest, I notice another oddity that I had ignored before now. The dentist’s chair I am strapped to looks relatively new. It has mostly plastic or padded surfaces, all of which are very round and smooth. The whole thing shows no real sign of wear and tear. But for some reason, I feel a jagged surface beneath my fingertips on each side. This strangely rough surface is at the very front end of each armrest, where I can easily feel it under my fingers. I continue to run my fingers across these rough spots, wondering why those areas are not smooth like the rest of the chair. I lean forward, to try and get a look at the front of the armrests. I can see lots of scratches on the plastic, which is what I have been touching. This seems odd at first, but then realization hits me. I flex my hand and extend my claws. There is no doubt about it; these armrests were scratched up by a person’s claws.
 
For the first time, I realize that other women have been strapped into this chair before me. My friend Mindy was probably the one in this seat most recently, and other women before her. One of them had been clawing at these armrests. Was it just a bad habit she had, or was it something else?
 
I do not get to think about it for long, before the door finally opens again. The nurse with black fur has returned, and there is another nurse with her. This new one has brown fur.
 
“How long has she been in here?” the brown one asks.
 
“About three hours,” the black one replies.
 
The brown appears to take a long look at my chest. “She isn’t ready yet. Give her another hour, but cap her off for now, so she doesn’t leak.”
 
“Alright,” the black one replies.
 
The brown one leaves the room, while the black one opens a drawer. She removes something from it, and then walks over to me. Standing over me, the nurse removes two small disks from a wrapper. They look like small rubber coins, about the size of a quarter. Holding one of the disks between her fingers, she bends it a little. I just watch, having no idea what is going on. The black furred nurse reaches down and places the disk directly on top of one of my nipples.
 
A sharp pain hits me, and I jump in the chair. ‘Ouch!’ I say in my head. I would have cried out in pain if not for this ball in my mouth. I look down at the object covering my nipple. The rubber disk still looks smooth on top, but it feels like it is pinching my nipple underneath. I shake my chest, but the nasty little thing won’t come off. Suddenly, the second disk is on the other nipple. ‘Ouch!’ is my reaction again. “I hate this nurse,” I think to myself.
 
“One more hour,” she says off handedly, leaving the room again.
 
“I don’t like you!” I think in her direction as the door closes.
 
Once again, I am left by myself, but now things are getting more painful. My breasts are now feeling sore even without wiggling them. On top of this, both nipples are being pinched by those strange rubber disks. Irritated, I violently shake my chest back and forth, but neither of the disks will come off. They seem to be stuck to me really well, just like that dumb rubber ball in my mouth. I just sit for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down.
 
I think things are starting to make sense now. As ridiculous as it may be; the reason I came in here was to let these people milk me. I was told that they would give me a drug that would stimulate milk production. That would be the ball in my mouth. It must be feeding me a chemical that is affecting my breasts. They are getting sore, because they are starting to produce. They are starting to look bigger then usual. That’s because they are filling up with milk. But apparently I am not ready to start milking yet, so they are going to wait another hour before they start. They put these little ‘caps’ on my breasts so that none of it will leak out early. I want to just pull them off, which is why my arms are strapped down, so that I can’t interfere with my breasts or the equipment. My legs are also strapped down, so that I can’t kick that nurse when she does these things to me. I am pleased with myself for figuring this much out, but any way you look at it, all I can do is to wait for them to come back. I will just have to bear with this discomfort for now.
 
More time passes. I am more aware of my breasts now then I have ever been in my life. I find that I am frequently looking down at them. They are definitely getting bigger. I try to get my mind off it, but the pain is a constant reminder. The more they fill, the sorer they become, and the tweaked nipples are just driving me crazy.
 
As the hour drags on, it becomes even more difficult to bear. Little by little, my breasts continue to expand. I can no longer sit still in the chair. You know that feeling you get when you really need to pee? When you are at the very limit of holding it in and you can’t help but squirm under the strain? This is kind of like that, but double, and on my chest. I can not stop myself from wiggling around in the chair, as I pray for relief. My breasts feel heavier now, and bounce around more as I twist left and right. I probably look sexy moving around like this, but I am really uncomfortable here. Nature didn’t intend for them to fill up this rapidly, or to be ‘capped’ off like this.
 
As I continue to wiggle around, an idea suddenly comes to mind. I remember the claw marks I found on the armrests. “Ok, I’ll try it,” I irrationally say to myself. With both hands, I spread my fingers out as wide as I can, and push my claws out to maximum claw. With one quick angry motion, I grip down on the armrests, digging my all of my claws into the plastic as hard as I can. I slowly drag them across the plastic, determined to leave my own marks. Some of my claws find their grip, while others slide along the grooves dug by previous fingers.
 
It’s shameful to use my claws in this way. I am a cat-person, but we are people, not animals. Our claws are normally only used for things like tearing the plastic film off of a new CD. Some people have a habit of clawing at furniture. It is a nasty habit, but at the moment this is the only thing I can do to get my mind off the growing pain in my breasts.
 
I continue this way for the rest of the tormenting hour. Either I am wiggling and twisting in discomfort, or I am clawing at the chair for stress relief. The increasing pressure in my breasts starts to reach an unbearable level, and I finally break down. “Please!” I scream in my mind, “Someone milk me, please!”
 
Both breasts are beginning to feel numb from the pressure. It was happening slowly at first, so I didn’t notice it during the first three hours, but now both breasts have really started to fill up. They look very big and round now, much bigger then I have ever seen them. I seems like they are going to burst at any moment. I can’t imagine that they could hold any more, but I am sure the milk is still coming.
 
At last, the door finally opens. Both the two nurses enter the room again. “Please milk me,” I think, silently begging them, “Get it out, please!”
 
The nurses only take a brief glance at me before they begin to work. They take equipment out of the cabinets and drawers in the room, and quickly set it up. Soon, there is a thin transparent hose hanging from above my chair. Just above me, it splits into two. Each of these has a clear bell-like object at the end. In the other direction, the hose reaches up almost to the ceiling. From there it runs all the way over to the wall and then down, to where it connects to a metal panel. Apparently, the rest of the milking equipment is off in another room. There are two switches on the panel. Now that everything is ready, the brown nurse flips the first switch with a loud ‘click’, and I now hear the soft hiss of air moving. The bells hanging in front of me are now drawing in air.
 
At last, the black furred nurse reaches down and pops the rubber disks off of my breasts. I still can’t explain how they held on so well or how they were pinching me; they just look flat on both sides. Next, the nurse takes hold of one of the bells hanging in front of me. She holds it just above one of my breasts, and then carefully brings it down over the nipple. With a suctioning ‘thump’, it sticks to me. Even though my breasts are furry, the bell has no trouble holding on. With another ‘thump’ the second bell is on the other breast.
 
I watch, expecting to see milk come out, but nothing happens. The two bells don’t seem to have enough suction to pull the milk out. Confused, I look up at the nurse just in time for her to say “Ok” and I hear another ‘click’ as the brown nurse flips the second switch.
 
I arc my back and close my eyes as the suction on my breasts suddenly doubles in strength. It is a strange sensation and it stings a little as the milk is sucked out, but I am glad that the pressure is finally being released. I watch as the two bells fill up, becoming solid white. After that, the white creeps its way up each tube. The two trails of white join together where the tubes merge and then it quickly moves up the final tube. Before long, the tube is white all the way to the wall, where it then goes off to places unknown. The nurses take one last look to make sure everything is working properly, and then they leave me alone in the room again.
 
I expect to run out of milk quickly and for my breasts to shrink back to their normal size as they empty, but hours pass and the suction continues. My breasts don’t seem to shrink at all. They appear to be producing milk as quickly as the bells can suck it out. I am feeling tired however, this ordeal has been very taxing and I am starting to get drowsy. Even with the bells still sucking on me, I drift off to sleep.
 
 
Chapter 8
“A purple haired calico”
 
 
When I wake up, nothing has changed. The room still looks the same and the chair holds me as firmly as ever. For whatever magical reason that I can’t understand, I am still not hungry and I do not need to use a restroom. I have no idea how long I was sleeping. With no clock or even a window, I have no perception of time in this room. I have no way of knowing how long I have been here.
 
As you may have guessed, I am still being milked; the suction is still pulling a steady stream of white from my breasts, but it’s not as painful anymore. My body must be getting used to it, but it is still uncomfortable. I can’t even imagine how much milk I must have produced already, and I would rather not know. The size of my breasts still has not gone down. They just look big. They may even be bigger now, I can’t tell for sure.
 
As time passes, I am very bored. I have nothing to do but sit here quietly. From time to time, a staff member will step into the room to make sure the milking is still going smoothly. They never talk to me, so I just try to ignore them. As the hours tick away, I really wish I had something to keep my mind occupied, and as luck would have it…
 
            “Hi!” a chipper voice says.
 
            “What!” I think, quite surprised. My ears perk up and I look at the person who has come into my room. “Is this one talking to me?” I wonder.
 
            This nurse is cute, but sort of an oddball. She is a calico, but she does not have the pronounced orange, white and black like Mindy has. This one’s fur is in patches of brown and tan. Her hair is cut short and is completely purple. She looks awfully cute in the nurse’s uniform she is wearing, but for some reason her appearance makes me want to laugh. She doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the people here. Maybe it’s because she is friendly. All of the other staff treats me coldly, but this one likes to chatter away whenever she enters my room.
 
This funny purple one visits me from time to time during my stay here. The best part however, is that she brought me a little television the next day. I finally have something to relieve the boredom in here. There is no remote, but I appreciate it none-the-less. She told me that as long as the volume is low, the other staff will leave it alone. The long hours are a little easier to handle now, with the TV in the room.
 
Days pass without anything new happening. I pass the time quietly watching old television shows, with the occasional nurse checking in on me. Despite having the television, I am still unsure of exactly how long I have been here. I know it has been a few days now, but I am not sure how many.
 
The purple one seems to show up at random times. She never seems to run out of energy as she talks to me. I don’t even know what it is she’s talking about half the time. She sometimes mentions somebody she calls “Dr. S”, though I have no idea who that is. I get the impression that she is a mischief maker. On one visit, she happily tied a pink ribbon onto the end of my tail. I also begin to get the feeling that she is not even supposed to be one of the nurses visiting me.
 
As the days go on, my breasts still continue to produce a seemingly endless flow of milk. It is hard to get used to the sight of the bells, always sucking on me. I am embarrassed to even think about what I am doing, so I am thankful for the privacy and solitude this little room gives me. My breasts still seem to be getting a little bit bigger every day.
 
While I sit through yet another day of milking, the spunky purple one shows up again. “Hi! I’ve got another present for you, but you can’t tell anybody about this one, k? It will have to be our little secret,” She says, seemingly oblivious to the ball in my mouth that has kept me silent for the past several days. The purple haired calico holds up a small object so I can see it. The thing is white and appears to be made of plastic. It is smooth, cylindrical and rounded at one end.
 
I do not understand what it is at first, but then it hits me. “That looks like a…” I say in my head, “Oh my god, that’s a vibrator.” It isn’t a very big one, but I am sure that is what it is. My eyes open wide, and I think to myself, “Even she can’t be that crazy.”
 
            “I figured no one would notice if it was a small one,” she says while she turns it on. I hear a feint hum come from the device. I was wrong, she is that crazy. I look down past my breasts and the tubes, and I watch her pull my only article of clothing down my legs a bit. “Oh, blond here too!” she says as she reaches down with the device in hand. The straps on my ankles do not hold my legs very far apart, but it’s enough. I feel her hand between my thighs as it moves up, and then I feel the tip of the object poke at me. Without wasting any time, she shoves the humming device up into me. It is small enough that she manages to get the whole thing in. Lastly, she pulls up my panties back up, hiding any clue that it’s in there. “Have fun!” she says, before leaving me alone with this new torture.
 
She was right; the next few hours were a lot of fun. Other nurses would check in on me as usual, but when they saw me squirming around, they just assumed it was because of the milking. That’s not far from the truth either, because the suction certainly helped. After a few hours of bucking and jerking, the batteries finally run out. Even after it stops vibrating, I can still feel it in there, and that keeps me going until I eventually pass out from exhaustion.
 
When I wake up, I immediately notice that the thing is still inside me. It turns me on a little, but it doesn’t overwhelm me like it did before. As I sit there happily remembering those lovely couple of hours, I notice something new starting to happen. Every once in a while I feel a twitch on my chest. I watch as the tubes sucking on me appear to jerk a little, causing a slight jiggle in my breasts. This becomes more frequent over time. This concerns me a little, and the next nurse that checks in on me notices it.
 
It turns out that I am done. Apparently, the machine was having trouble drawing milk, because my breasts have finally stopped producing it. The tubes still look solid white, but the nurse manages to remove them without spilling it all over me. The remaining milk in the system quickly zips up the tube and away, before she turns off the two switches.
 
Next, the nurse reaches up to my face and grabs the rubber ball with her fingers. As soon as she touches it, the tubes in my throat quickly retract back to the ball, and she pops it out of my mouth. A moment later I am happily watching her remove the straps from my arms and legs. There is still that one other item to remove, but this nurse does not know about it and I am not going to tell her.
 
I stand up, but I find my body is very stiff and I have trouble keeping my balance. The ball is finally gone, but my mouth doesn’t feel ready to speak yet.
 
“Just try to walk it off,” she tells me. “Let’s get you out of here.”
 
The nurse takes hold of my arm to help me stand, and we leave the room. My head feels cloudy but I am excited to be going home. The pink bow is still tied to my tail, but that’s the least of my concern right now. I slowly stumble down the hallway, but not just because of the stiffness. I find it a little difficult to walk with the naughty object inside me, but I can’t tell the nurse about that.
 
She leaves me in a room filled with lockers. I sit on the bench for a minute, already starting to feel better. I look around and realize that this is the room where I left my clothing. The fog in my head starts to clear up and I try to stretch my muscles to work out the stiffness.
 
The same nurse returns with a big ring of keys, and opens the locker with my clothes inside. “There you go,” she says, “Get dressed, and you will be going home shortly.”
 
“Thank you,” I manage to say, and she leaves me alone to get dressed.
 
I start taking my clothes out of the locker until I pick up my bra, and then I just look at it. I look down at my breasts, and then back at the bra. “Oh my god,” I mumble, as I realize it wont fit me anymore. I look at the small cups of the bra, then at the new bulk of my breasts. This is the first time that I can really see how much larger my breasts have become. It is difficult to believe that this bra is mine. It didn’t seem like my breasts were growing this much. This is way more then what Mindy got. When I walked into this building, I thought it would be nice if my breasts were twice as big, but these are… they must be at least four times bigger.
 
Still somewhat amazed by the bra, I stuff it in my purse. I will just have to go without. But before I start putting my clothes on, I need to get this ‘toy’ out of me, so that I can hide it in my purse also. I reach down to my hips, about to pull my panties down, when the door suddenly opens. I nearly jump out of my fur, as the chunky receptionist walks in.
 
“Oh, I’m sorry, you aren’t dressed yet.” She says.
 
“Oh… well… I was just…” I try to quickly think of an excuse that doesn’t involve pulling a sex toy out of my crotch.
 
“That’s alright,” she says as she sits down on the bench. “I have some things to tell you before you go.”
 
I smile at her and pretend to be interested while I quickly slip my pants on. “Darn it,” I think, “I was looking at the bra too long and missed my chance to get that thing out.”
 
“It turns out that you happen to be one of the rare few women who have a very strong reaction to the drug we use,” She explains while I put on my shirt. “Normally the effect should only last a couple of days, but for you it has been nearly a week. I hope that didn’t bother you too much. Because of that, you have produced an enormous amount of milk, and your breasts....”
 
“They sure are,” I mumble, looking down at my chest. The baggiest shirt I have. That is what they asked me to wear, and now I understand why. It’s not baggy anymore. Now I really fill it out well.
 
 
Epilogue
 
 
The trip home was a whole new challenge. As usual, there were lots of people on the streets of the city, and it was my first time out in public with this huge pair. I felt like everyone was looking at me, and I was probably right. The extra weight made balance difficult, and without a bra the slightest little bump seemed to make them bounce. Worst of all, I had to walk out of that building and into public without getting the vibrator out. It was a difficult walk home.
 
Two weeks later, I was still getting used to the huge new breasts, but I was really starting to like them. I had to buy lots of new clothing that would fit. Also, I finally found a job. I hate to admit it, but the new breasts probably helped. I became a secretary at a big office building downtown. Several years later, these breasts catch the interest of a man named Clyde and… well, I’ve already told you that story.
 
Farewell for now; my story still has a little more to tell, next time.