In fact, she'd been so drawn by this particular navy blue, lacy garment that she'd thought of trying it on in the store -- something she'd never done with undergarments -- but alas the fitting cubicles had all been taken, and the tiny tag hidden along the inside of the back strap said it was just her size. A stroke of luck since she often had difficulty finding her size in anything she found remotely sexy.
She took the thin garment to the register and paid for it with her credit card. The elderly female clerk asked to see her ID, which she promptly produced. "That's me!" she said rather redundantly. "Jessica Miller." With that, she gave a short laugh and tossed her bleached locks back over her shoulders. The photo on her driver's license showed a woman just a few years younger with short black hair and soft gray eyes. Jessica had done quite a turn-around since her twenty-sixth birthday, and it had paid off. She was climbing the corporate ladder faster now than ever before, even though several of the younger girls were arguably more qualified, having successfully purchased framed degrees from four years at accredited universities.
The entire drive back to her house was maddening. She was in such a rush to try on this hot new bra and see just how nicely it would display her ample goods while ever-so-cleverly concealing the pinnacles of her every boyfriends' desire. She'd spent a good deal of time in college showing much more than she maybe should have but keeping the little treasures hidden for only certain very special men.
Sitting at a red light that seemed it would never change, Jessica again pondered trying on the bra. She got as far and unfastening the plain white cotton one she was already wearing and slinging it out through one shirt sleeve before the light changed.
"Damn," she thought. "Now I'll have to wait until I'm home."
But her house was only a few short blocks away and she managed to survive the trip.
She was no farther than her front door when she began tearing off her clothing. She dropped her purse just inside the entry and carried her light teal v-neck shirt in one hand, the navy blue bra in the other, up the stairs to her bedroom. As she bounded the stairs in pairs, her heavy breasts swayed and jiggled -- any non-comatose man who'd been there to see the sight would have probably gone into cardiac arrest at the splendor of it -- on her slight frame.
By the time she reached the top step, she'd tossed her teal v-neck aside and was already arranging the lacy cups of her new bra over her plump breasts. She worked on the fastener in back before pulling the unusually thick shoulder straps up her arms. A wry smile crossed her face as her sensitive skin settled into the sexy lingerie for the first time. She rushed into her bathroom and played fashion queen before the mirror, turning side to side to admire the snugness and the way the skimpy bra held her heavy breasts slightly upward. "Enticing," she thought with a grin. "I can do a lot of good for a lot of men in this thing."
She knew inherently that this bra belonged on her. It was made for her. Nevermind that slight pulsing she felt in her breasts. She dismissed it as her heart racing at the thoughts of showing off her new bra to her boyfriend and some of his guy friends. It would get a lot of attention, especially with the way the threads running from under her breasts up to her nipples seemed to form thin fingers, encircling her increasingly rigid nipples which were covered only by a mesh of threads which were slightly more dense there than anywhere else on the bra.
But it had been a long day and she was pretty tired. She'd just take a little nap and when she woke up, she'd fix some dinner and invite her boyfriend over for a peek-a-boo session. She lay across her full size bed and was soon asleep, her lace encased breasts rising and falling with the rhythmic breathing of sleeping.
She awoke with a jolt. She'd felt a slight pain in her left breast. She blinked a few times to clear the sleep from her eyes and tried to see in the darkened room. "Damn, what time is it?" She glanced at the digital clock beside her headboard: 9:18. Oh well, so much for dinner. She wasn't really very hungry anyway. She'd just take a shower and get to bed. She had a lot of work to do at the office the next day and couldn't really afford to be late or tired all day.
She'd nearly forgotten the pain that had awoken her until she felt it now in her right breast. She reached up to gently massage the soreness and stopped in her tracks, her head cocked to one side. Something was not quite right, but she couldn't place it. It was almost as if...
Jessica cupped her right breast in her left hand. She sized it up as so many men had done in the past. It felt different; heavier. The same check on the left breast resulted in the same conclusion. She figured she must just be tired and not thinking right. Slipping into the bathroom and clicking on the light, she turned away to avoid being blinded and tried to unclasp her bra. It would not budge. She gave it a good tug but to no avail.
"How strange. I'm sure I'm doing this right." Her fingers worked on the clasp for minutes without getting it undone. She gave up and decided to take the bra off over her head. She gripped the bottom edge of the fabric beneath her mammaries and pulled upward... again to no avail. "What the hell is going on here?" she said aloud.
After half an hour of struggling with the bra, she determined that she was dreaming. She descended the stairs to the living room, then made a sharp right into her kitchen. She fixed herself a dream snack and plopped down before the dream television to watch the news. Nothing very interesting, just the usual few murders, traffic accidents, and politicians talking about how they were going to change the world when elected in the upcoming Senate race.
She munched tuna salad and potato chips through The Tonight Show, then the Conan O'Brien show, which she rarely ever saw because she was usually in bed by this time.
"This is a pretty dull dream," she said to herself, giving another tug on the bra to see if she'd woken up yet. It was no use so she kept her eyes on the television all night. In the wee hours of the morning, she watched a mini-marathon of Japanese monster movies and laughed herself silly at the once-special effects.
She was losing her second wind when the sun peaked in through her windows. This really was a weird dream. They usually didn't seem to last this long. She felt like she'd been up all night and the clock on the wall indicated she had. "Okay now, let's do a chant to get my brain moving. Wake up. Waaaake uuuup. Wake up, Jessica. Let's go. Get out of bed. Come on now."
Try as she might, she couldn't force herself to wake up on her bed. She sat staring at the light beginning to stream in through the windows and muttered "Aww fuck." She hadn't been dreaming, but then how could one explain the bra that wouldn't come off?
Come to think of it, the bra was starting to feel just a bit tight. Not quite uncomfortable but she could definitely feel the lace pressing into her breast flesh. She gazed at her magnificent tits and lifted one in each hand. They seemed even heavier than they had earlier that night, but by this time it was almost surely her lack of sleep talking.
She trudged back up the stairs to her bedroom, pondering calling in sick. But today really was important for her and the company. She was meeting with a new client who was getting ready to spend a few thousand dollars a month for their services. She rushed back downstairs to put on a pot of coffee, then rushed back upstairs to take a quick shower. The cursed bra still refused to come off, so she stripped the rest of her clothing, shrugged, and jumped in the shower. The bra made it slightly difficult to come clean, as rivulets of soap suds would pool within the mesh of lace and she had to work extra hard to rinse it all out. She tried one more time to remove the sexy, tight bra, thinking it might be like a stuck ring -- give it a little soap and water and it'll slip right off. But no, the bra held firm and she grumbled bitterly.
She quickly dried off and threw on some nice clothes, then rushed downstairs where the coffee was brewing nicely. She poured herself a cup, added some milk, and headed for the door, the cup of coffee in one hand while she faught to get her forest green pumps onto her feet with the other. She sipped the hot coffee all the way out to her car, got in, and took off without a second thought.
Meanwhile, her purse lay just inside the front door to her house where she'd left it the evening before.
Jessica had just enough time after arriving at work to go into the ladies room and adjust her top. The bra was feeling tighter by the hour and was starting to get uncomfortable. She also was feeling a spreading warmth throughout her breasts that simply could not be explained.
Returning to her small, out-of-the-way office, Jessica sorted through a pile of paperwork on her desk to refamiliarize herself with the client she was to meet. She was feeling quite groggy and found it difficult to remain focused, but she'd always been good at BS'ing her way through meetings. She'd toss a few compliments toward the client, make her company sound bigger and better than it was, and let a few of their more famous clients' names slip from her lips in the conversation.
She was sipping her second cup of coffee when her boss opened the door to her office. Henry Johnston was not a man who would ever appear on the cover of Newsweek or Forbes. He was heavy-set and sported an unkempt mustache beneath his large red knob of a nose. He'd made most of his money selling video clips to televison news companies and overblown entertainment shows masquerading as news programs. Marketing was his second business and he usually didn't even bother to show up in the office for days on end. Today, of course, was different.
"That guy is here," he said gruffly.
In her sleepy haze, Jessica asked, "What guy?"
"The one from the car company. The one that's paying thousands of dollars." The man was, in fact, not from a car company per se, but from one of those ten minute lube and tune companies whose business had recently tripled. They were looking to open about two dozen new locations in the next year and needed Jessica's company to push their name on television, the radio, and newspapers throughout the state to ensure immediate success of each new store.
"Oh, right right. Give me one minute to finish sorting out my... my approach."
"He's here now. You need to greet him. Come on."
Jessica dragged herself out of her chair -- she'd just been starting to feel comfortable and was on the verge of taking a nap -- and shuffled toward the open door where her boss stood.
"I think you might want to be a bit more lively than that," Johnston said. Jessica put on a wide smile and tried to stride with carefree confidence. From the corner of her eye she caught her boss' surprised expression. "Are you... don't take this wrong, Jessica, but this is a very important client... are you not wearing a bra?"
Johnston, never one for tact, had not even thought to lower his voice on that last part. Jessica glanced around the outer office to see a couple of her employees look up at mention of her not wearing a bra. She turned a bright pink in the face and turned to her boss.
She quietly answered, "I am, so I'd appreciate you not shouting that I'm not."
"Well I'm not saying you aren't, it just looks like you're not and I wanted to be sure we get off on the right foot with this client." Jessica glanced down and noticed that her blouse, which had been just a little snug this morning, was now bulging outward around her breasts which seemed to have swollen by at least a full cup size this morning. She could clearly feel the lace of the bra digging into her tits all around, but moreso around her nipples. It felt as if tiny fingers were encircling them and beginning to gently squeeze to either side of each nipple. She quickly shifted her blouse, trying to hide the obvious curves of her tits, and turned back to exit the office and meet her new client.
Opening the door to the hallway, Mr. Johnston introduced Jessica as the company's brightest marketing star and parted ways with them. Jessica invited the well dressed and neatly groomed middle aged man into her office to discuss his account. He followed her in quietly and sat where she indicated.
Jessica took a moment to stand by the single window of her office. The sun still rising in the East shown brilliantly through the glass and Mr. Smithers, owner of SmitherLube, had a brief glimpse of a bluish bra through the somewhat transparent white blouse she was wearing.
"It's a big world out there," Jessica said, raising an arm to indicate the masses of buildings stretching out to the horizon. "It's easy to get lost among all the noise and neon signs. But our clients tell us we do an excellent job of filtering out all the garbage and keeping their names in peoples' minds. Maybe you've heard of some of our clients. Churchill's Chicken, the Redwoods Inn chain of steak houses, Bowman's Ford and Bowman's Chevrolet. We've represented some of the best that this state has to offer, Mr. Smithers, and we have our eyes set on going national within the next two years. We're adding an internet marketing department to quickly reach an audience of millions wherever you might be opening a new SmitherLube store."
Jessica turned away from the window and sat in her chair across the desk from Mr. Smithers. She chatted for several minutes on how her company was investing resources into rapid expansion and how all of their clients would benefit from the growth. As she spoke, her bra and blouse became even tighter as she experienced a bit of growth and expansion herself. The warmth she'd been feeling in her breasts was increasing with every passing minute. It was starting to feel like a small fire had been set under her blouse and she badly wanted to put something cool and soothing on it.
Smithers looked over some documents Jessica had left for him at the edge of her desk. He asked about circulation of her company's advertisements and how soon they were expecting to have their internet business running. "Because of the universality of my business," he said, "we need to have immediate name recognition in any area we move into. Newspapers and magazines are fine, but they take time and lots of money to circulate to everyone. One website can serve hundreds of cities."
Jessica, feeling increasingly tired and flustered, only nodded. "We're finalizing the details of our internet business now and should have it fully staffed by the end of this year; just a few short months. Until then, we're positive that we can show you the goods."
At that, two buttons at the top of Jessica's blouse gave out under the strain of her bulging breasts and launched over Mr. Smithers' left shoulder. As the neckline of her blouse widened, her deepening cleavage and sexy blue lace bra came into view. She gasped and turned a bright pink in the face again. Both hands went to the white fabric and pulled it together to cover her skin and she stammered, "I-- I'm sorry. I don't know how that could have happened."
Smithers' face was stern. "I had thought your marketing was tasteful. I'm starting to think it might not always be so." He stood and turned toward the door. "I'll look over your proposal and get back to you when I've made my decision."
Jessica rushed to her feet and slipped around the edge of her desk. She moved to stand between the retreating client and the door to the outer office. "Mr. Smithers, I'm truly sorry for this accident. No one is more surprised than I am, but I'll just slip into the ladies' room and take care of this while you look over the paperwork. When I return, we can continue our conversation and hopefully come to a mutually beneficial decision."
But as she stood there, staring the man down, another button launched from her blouse, spreading the white fabric farther apart to reveal an even greater amount of cleavage and naked breast flesh. Mr. Smithers had just a slight view of nipples exposed between a mesh of blue lace. His family man's mind was made up. "I'm sorry, Ms. Miller, but I feel I should let you sort out your problems in peace. I will take my business elsewhere."
"Please Mr. Smithers, just give me one more chance."
"Chance to do what? Perform a complete strip tease? No, I think I should go elsewhere for my wholesome marketing needs. Now please stand aside." Jessica did so, but she knew she couldn't let him leave the building without convincing him to at least think about reconsidering. She hesitated for a moment, clasped her blouse together with one hand, and rushed after him as he made his way to the hallway beyond the outer office. Her face flushed from embarrassment and her tits jiggling uncontrollably, she caught up with him only as he reached the front door of the building.
"Mr. Smithers, wait. Please let me explain."
The front door opened. The sound of traffic came down the hallway. Mr. Smithers stepped out onto the sidewalk.
"You see, Mr. Smithers, I... I'm pregnant and, umm... my body is doing some weird things right now. I'm sure you can understand that." She hoped that this lie would seem reasonable. It was certainly more believable than telling him she'd baught a cursed bra that was making her tits grow for no reason.
By this time they were both on the sidewalk and a breeze was threatening to blow Jessica's blouse open again. She latched on with both hands and held it tight.
"It's nothing any woman can help when her body changes like this. I'm truly sorry for what happened and I will make it up to you with a discount on your setup fee. It's the least I can do."
The bulge in her blouse increased its strain as she clutched the material tightly and two more buttons, the last two in fact, shot off into the street filled with cars. Her heavy double D breasts in the increasinly tiny blue lace bra fell into the open for all to see. She shrieked and grabbed as much material together as she could before rushing back inside the building. She did not stop running until she was in the restroom, where she let her blouse fall open. She stared at the size of her tits. How had they gotten so damned large? Breasts didn't just grow for no reason, and they sure as hell didn't grow this much in less than twenty-four hours!
She lifted each breast and felt its weight. They felt... full. But full of what, was the question. She found out soon enough when she felt her bra suddenly constrict and a trickle of what could only be breast milk fell to the tiled floor. She stared in disbelief. Was she pregnant after all? She couldn't be. She'd had no morning sickness and her waist was as slim as ever. The only thing that had changed was the size of her breasts and the fact that she now seemed to be lactating.
Jessica took a few paper towels and patted her nipples dry, then held her blouse back together and made her way to her office as quietly as possible. Her office assistants watched her enter but said nothing. She shut her office door and found her purse, took a couple of bobby pins to hold the blouse shut until she got home. She took a deep breath and stepped back out of her office.
"Maria, tell Mr. Johnston I've had to go home for the day, please."
"Go home for what?" came Johnston's voice. Jessica looked up to see the bloated man standing in the door to the hallway. "Where is that car guy?"
Jessica blathered about being so sorry for everything and how it was all just a mistake and she'd give the man a call tomorrow to clear everything up. Johnston was not at all pleased and the scowl on his face told Jessica she had a lot of explaining to do. He called her into his office. She thought of bolting and getting home as quickly as possible, but she'd lose her job for sure. She meekly followed him to his office upstairs where he sat her down and demanded to know what had happened. Jessica, her voice shaking with embarrassment and confusion, told him everything up to the moment she'd lost the last button from her blouse and rushed back inside. She had no intention of telling him she was lactating. Mr. Johnston was the dirty minded type who liked to hire girls as topless housekeepers and he'd most certainly make some sort of proposal to her if he knew she was leaking milk, especially without actually being pregnant -- all the fun of sucking on a lactating tit with none of the mess of putting up with a newborn baby.
"I'm going to give him a call this afternoon to apologize but this is not going to look good for any of us, especially for me. I try to run a business here. When we cater to a pornography company you can show off whatever you like, but when it's just not apporpriate, you should be more careful."
Jessica hung her head in shame.
"I think it might be good to move you, temporarily of course, to another position where you won't be dealing directly with clients. That way I can show this Smithers guy that we don't tolerate that sort of behavior here but I can keep you on the payroll so you don't lose your job or your house."
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Johnston. It was an accident. That's all! I--" Johnston cut her off.
"I've been looking for a new housekeeper for a couple of weeks. I'd like to keep you in the company but I can't let something like this happen again, at least until we get this guy's business. A short probationary period is in order, I think. Don't you agree?"
"I don't clean toilets. It's degrading."
"It's good solid work that can keep you from losing your job outright for losing our most important potential client. Mostly you'd be doing laundry and vacuuming, prepaing food for me, and making the bed. The bathroom would only need to be scrubbed once a week. At this point, it's the only option I can see to firing you. I don't want to fire you. You've been a good employee for the last couple of years. But I need to get this guy's business and if you can't do it, I need to have someone who can."
"If that's my only option, then I resign. I won't work where accidents are treated as crimes. I'm not some broken English speaking immigrant who can't do anything but scrub toilets and show her breasts for a few extra dollars. I have skills and I have pride."
Just then the bra constricted once more and a jet of warm milk soaked dark circles on her blouse. Jessica got up quickly and rushed out of the building in tears.
Two days after she had last gone to work, Jessica Miller finally got up the courage to face the outside world again. She had gotten a few calls from her boss on her answering machine asking why she wasn't coming in to work. The first couple reinforced Mr. Johnston's idea of her doing topless work around his house. The last few demonstrated his confusion about why she would not return his calls or come to work. It was like he absolutely failed to understand that she was embarrassed beyond belief; as if this was a normal thing and she should be working as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
Well one thing was certain -- she couldn't return to work for him. She'd have to find a new job. But first she'd need a new wardrobe. Her once fabulous 38CC breasts had swelled to 42EE over the past few days and nothing she had fit her anymore.
But at the very least, she could most certainly turn a lot of heads and tease a lot more men now than she'd ever been able to before. Aside from that, she didn't like the newer, bigger tits at all. They were heavy with milk and her damned bra continued to stay on despite her best efforts to remove it, and it wasn't getting any bigger despite her tits growing exponentially. The bra was down to a thin, stretched-out, lacy push-up with little lace fingers squeezing in around her swollen nipples. Every few hours like clockwork the bra would constrict and send jets of warm breast milk across the room. Jessica's bed sheets were soaked and stained from the days and nights of constant lactation.
The worst thing about it was the mixed pleasure and pain it brought. The sensation of spraying her milk made her whole body tingle and created a warmth -- a need, really -- in her crotch. There was a very definite sexual stimulation going on. But the pain came from the tightness of the bra around her swollen nipples and when the bra constricted, the lace dug into her breasts with no mercy. Her nipples were quite sore from the abuse.
Since she had no control over the lactation, she would need to try and time her clothes shopping to avoid any further public embarrassment. She had noticed about a six hour interval but it was decreasing toward five hours. She prepared herself for her noon spurt by sitting in the shower facing the glass shower door. When she felt the bra begin to tighten, she took a deep breath and tried to think of something else. A moment later her tits errupted with a torrent of little streams of warm milk hitting the glass door about three feet away. Her milk ran down the rough, privacy-minded surface of the door, down to the tiled shower floor and into the drain.
The warmth in her crotch reached an all-time high (for this situation, mind you, not an all-time high for her entire sexual life) and a trickle of lubrication ran down between her thighs. She gasped as a small orgasm overtook her. As her breasts ran dry, they dribbled down her belly and over her black haired pussy. She came down from her orgasm and stood to turn on the shower. She rinsed herself clean and again tried to remove the bra with the usual lack of success. She couldn't understand why but she knew it would never come off. She'd even tried taking a pair of scissors to the lacy garment the day she'd rushed home from the office and the damned fabric wouldn't cut! Something was terribly, terribly wrong and she just wanted this whole nightmare to end.
Having toweled off and dressed in her most loose-fitting t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, Jessica made her way to the local mall. Because of the incredible size of her breasts, she wouldn't be able to do much shopping at regular stores. Thankfully the mall had a big women's store. She'd never dreamt she would be shopping there. Normally she wouldn't even be caught dead there. But she had very little choice now when it came to tops. She was relieved that she could still shop in normal stores for her pants. She'd die if her hips had grown as much as her chest.
Being very careful about anyone seeing her going to this store, and wearing her largest pair of dark sunglasses to cover as much of her face as possible, Jessica wandered through the crowd of shoppers and slipped into the store. She would spend as little time here as she could.
She aimed straight for business attire. She'd need something very special in order to get an executive position in her situation. It would need to downplay the enormity of her breasts without making her whole body look huge and bloated.
She found a couple of great blouses in different colors. White was certainly the most professional, but there was a nice pink and another in light yellow. All three looked like they'd fit her, but she needed to be sure they'd fit well if her tits continued to grow. She took them to the back of the store where three small dressing stalls stood against the wall. She entered and hung the blouses on a peg inside the door. She then removed her t-shirt and grimaced at her huge, exposed tits.
She tried on the yellow blouse and it was okay, but if her tits grew much more it would be a waste. The pink blouse had some room for expansion but didn't fit all that well around her still lean tummy. It was definitely made for a woman who was large all around. Nonetheless, she decided to take it to be on the safe side. The white blouse was also made for a heavy-set woman but fit a little better than the pink one. She modeled it in the small mirror set to show between her waist and neck.
She began to remove the white blouse when she felt a familiar tightness in her chest. The bra was constricting and it had only been about an hour! One breast was fully out of the blouse when the torrent of milk launched forth from her nipples. The mirror on the wall turned a dull white as her milk sprayed all over it and ran down the wall. She instinctively pulled the blouse together in front to keep her milky secret, but quickly discovered the problem there when the front of the blouse became transparent as her milk continued to gush and run down the inside of the white fabric.
"Oh god, no! Why me?" she cried quietly.
Jessica slumped onto the small bench at the back of the stall as her pussy began to leak lubrication. The smell was immediately noticeable in the small dressing room and the whole sexuality of it all put jessica over the top. She shuddered as a powerful orgasm ran up her spine. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard herself whimper the way she'd always done when any of her boyfriends was giving her a good fucking.
She hoped no one had heard any of this.
When her lactating ceased, Jessica ripped off the stained blouse and quickly got back into her t-shirt. She stashed the blouse in the corner under the bench and hoped no one would ever be able to associate it with her. She took the remaining two blouses and rushed to the front of the store to pay for them and get the hell out of there.
Jessica's heart did not stop racing until she had gotten all the way home and locked herself securely within her own bedroom. She feared she was losing control of her body and it all had something, somehow, to do with this bra she'd been so happy to find. She could only think it was magically cursed, but rationality told her that was impossible. But then again, the un-cuttable, un-removable, lactation-generating bra seemed to be substantial proof to the idea.
But she laughed, rather nervously, because she knew better than to believe in fairy tales and magic underwear. Whatever was happening to her was very strange, but she honestly could not think of what she could do about it. See a doctor? "Hello doctor, my bra is magical and makes me spray breast milk in public." She'd be locked up in a looney bin before the day was through. Find a magical leprechaun to remove the curse? Sure! Why not? All she'd have to do is go to Ireland and hope they didn't lock her in a looney bin as well.
Besides, she was far too embarrassed about the whole situation to even consider letting anyone else know what was happening. They'd want to take pictures and film the milking process and she knew those pics and vids would be on the internet within a week for the whole world to see and mock her.
The best thing was for her to dress a little more wisely and hope these accidents stopped soon. To this end, she would buy a nursing bra with thick pads to soak up discharge and try to concentrate on holding the milk in or at least regulating its flow.
Jessica spent the next three days putting out her resume, stressing her years of experience and desire to grow with each company. She also spent a good deal of time sitting on her shower floor trying to regulate the flow of her breast milk, but it was starting to spurt at widely varying times and even in random amounts. She would let down only a trickle for a few hours and suddenly release a torrent, then another torrent just an hour later. Her breasts seemed to defy all logic in their milk production.
By the end of a week, however, Jessica had managed to gain some mental control. She had not had a major letdown in two days and had brought the timing back into a range of every three to four hours.
Then came great news that she was being considered for an executive marketing position with a major firm down town. She chose to wear her new, thick nursing bra beneath the light yellow blouse she'd picked up at the big women's store a week before. It was a snug fit but thankfully her tits hadn't grown any more recently. She slipped into a knee-length dark blue skirt and tan nylons and finished off the outfit with a pair of dark blue two inch heels.
She knew her lactation schedule pretty well now and had scheduled her interview for an hour after a letdown. This allowed her to spurt her milk in the privacy of her own shower, wash up, and get to the interview about ten minutes ahead of time.
The interviewer, a man by the name of Jacobson, was running a little late coming back from lunch, so Jessica sat patiently in the reception area of the seventh floor office. A few minutes passed before a well dressed man entered. Jessica began to rise to shake his hand and greet him with a warm smile, but the man sat down a few seats from her and began reading a magazine. Apparently he was also here for an interview... or maybe this was part of the interview. She'd heard about some companies trying new tactics to see how people-oriented and patient new hires really were. Maybe this guy was testing her. He hadn't signed in or even spoken to the receptionist, he'd just sat down in the waiting room with Jessica. She pondered saying something to him, just to break the ice, but could think of nothing witty enough. She was far too nervous, what with having to concentrate not only on her breasts but on her performance during the interview.
A thin sweat broke out on her brow. Jessica pursed her lips and lightly blew upward to dry the sweat.
Five more minutes passed before another man entered and asked the receptionist if his two o'clock interview was in. He was in his early to mid thirties, thin but muscular, and sported a well groomed brown mustache. Jessica guessed this was her man and stood to greet him.
"Hello, Mr Jacobson?"
"Yes, you must be Jessica Miller. Why don't you come on back and we'll get started?" He smiled and Jessica noted he very quickly (and discretely-- he almost got away with it) checked her over. Jessica had just caught his eyebrows rising as he glanced at her chest.
He opened the door into the inner office and motioned for Jessica to go ahead. She thanked him and walked in, but unsure where to go she stood and waited for him to catch up. Mr. Jacobson led Jessica to his corner office about fifteen feet down a hall from the waiting room. He took a folder from his desk and sat in his comfortable leather chair while motioning for Jessica to take the less comfortable rolling chair across the desk from him.
Jessica sat proud and upright, just a hint of a smile on her lips, and folded her hands neatly in her lap.
"Well Miss Miller, I see you've done some work in the media industry recently. Do you mind if I inquire as to why you left your last position?"
"Insufficient growth opportunity," Jessica lied. "I felt I had reached as high as I could go there. I'm looking for greater challenges."
Mr. Jacobson made no sign of having even heard what Jessica had said. He suddenly laid down the folder he'd been looking through and stared across his desk into Jessica's eyes. The next ten or eleven questions were routine questions Jessica had been entirely prepared for. What were her career goals? Did she think she was management material and if so why? Was she able to manage multiple accounts simultaneously?
Nonetheless, Jessica felt perspirationm creep from every pore of her body. Despite the questions being routine, Jessica's attention was being drawn away from her deep dark secret. The sudden realization of this caused slight panic within her, but Jessica was skilled enough not to show it. She did, however, glance down once just to make sure she was still clothed and safe. Her gaze came quickly back up to meet her interviewer's, however, as she did not wish to seem shy or uncertain by looking down too much.
Mr. Jacobson threw in a few questions about how Jessica would market a given product given only a certain amount of time and resources. She was able to answer them all in what she felt was a clear and realistic manner. But she still felt sweat trickling down all over. The interview was lasting longer than she'd expected. She glanced at the wall clock to Jacobson's left, hoping this would end soon so she would have time to get back to her safe home before the next milking.
But Jacobson threw her a curve ball by asking how Jessica would maintain company secrets while working in such a public position as marketing director.
Did he mean this company's secrets or the companies they would be marketing? Just what sort of secrets were they planning on telling her? The simple answer would be that she would keep any confidential company information separate from her work, but then he'd ask how she would do that and how she would determine what was confidential and what was not.
The sweat continued and Jessica very lightly fanned herself with a copy of her resume she'd found lying on the desk before her.
"Well, obviously any information which is given to me in confidence would remain here in the office in a separate location from my documents and plans for clients. If I was not certain of the confidentiality of a document, I would ask the document's author to be certain. Documents of an extra sensitive nature would be shredded after I read them to ensure their confidentiality."
Jessica smiled. She had gotten through that without stuttering or pausing to think further on it. She had won!
But when she looked to Mr. Jacobson to see his reaction, she saw a very strange look on his face. It was a mixture of awe, surprise, and maybe just a little bit of fear.
"Umm, is something the matter?" she asked tentatively.
"N-no, I was... I was just..." He trailed off and his gaze never left her... chest!
Jessica looked straight down to see her light yellow blouse had become a light yellow sopping wet rag hugging her huge tits. Two large splotches of liquid right where the pads of her nursing bra buffered her blouse from her tits sent Jessica reeling backward.
"Oh shit! Oh shit!" she cursed quietly as she stumbled over the chair. The plastic, four wheeled chair rolled this way and that as she stumbled and tried to step around it, causing her to keep losing her footing. Eventually she stepped right on a wheel and broke off one of her heels. She went flailing over the chair as it tipped backward, her legs coming up as her head went down. Her landing was hard but thankfully she missed the arms of the chair or she'd have been in much more pain. She lay in a daze for several seconds before Mr. Jacobson's hand came toward her.
Jessica's eyes went wide. She was sure he was reaching for her tits! She scrambled to her feet, babbling incoherent apologies and curses. By now her hair was in a mess, her blouse was all scrunched up and sopping wet, and she'd lost a shoe.
"Let me help you to sit down," Jacobson was saying in a quavering voice. Had Jessica been more aware of her surroundings, she would have understood that Jacobson was very much afraid of having some trumped up sexual harassment charge brought against him. He was trying very hard not to gawk at his interviewee's soaked shirt as he had been trying not to gawk at her light pink panties which were on full display while she was sprawled over his office floor a moment earlier.
"Would-- would you like to sit down? I'll get you a drink of water, alright? Just-- just sit tight." Jacobson moved toward the door to get a cup of water from the cooler just down the hall in the employee break room. His hands shook as he tried to hold the paper cup still beneath the spigot, but he managed to get most of the water into the cup and returned to his office. The door was open and he just barely caught a glimpse of a shoeless nylon-clad leg rushing out into the reception room. A muffled shriek was heard as Jessica found herself in quite a mess before two males waiting for their interviews.
Jacobson tossed back his head and gulped down the cold water before closing himself in his office to catch his breath. He tripped on Jessica's discarded broken shoe.
Jessica felt utterly humilated. She'd made a complete ass of herself at her most important interview. There was no way she was going to get any executive position in her state. She had to find other options. She'd already been out of work too long. She couldn't live on credit forever.
Of course the first dismal thought that came into her frazzled mind was that she would have no problem becoming a porn star. She might actually get paid very well for her particular "talents" but that just wasn't something she wanted to try. In her wildest dreams, she had never thought that circumstances would force her into a life of uninhibited sex -- all the flirting she'd done was done with the knowledge that she was still free to walk away without any physical contact or long-term committment.
So what could she do? Any job she took would have to pay fairly well but last only a few hours a day at most, or at least leave her the opportunity to go home every few hours for her forced milking and then return to work. Topless dancer? Perhaps. The physical contact wouldn't be much and she most definitely had the tits to earn big bucks. But would they understand why she was unable to remove her bra, even though it concealed almost nothing? Probably not.
She still couldn't understand why the cursed bra would not come off. She had tried several more times to slice it off with scissors and a sharp knife, but the scissors snapped apart and the serated edge of the knife grew dull trying to dig through the thin fabric. It was all very, very wrong and she knew it, but she could not ignore the facts.
Days passed into another week without work and while she continued to search for some new job, she decided to go the adolescent route and get a temporary job as a babysitter just to have some cash on hand.
It was not difficult to find young parents in need of a babysitter. She picked up two such jobs quickly, babysitting a fifteen month old boy on Mondays and Wednesdays and then on Thursday babysitting for a two year old pair of twin sisters. The hours were good and the pay was... well the pay was there, at any rate. She would still need to find a real job soon, but this would give her another few weeks to look.
Her first week with the fifteen month old boy went well. She was able to be away from home long enough to do her job and get home just in time to burst a few pints of milk into her kitchen sink (the upstairs bathroom being too far away to get to in time). God, she hoped her next door neighbors weren't looking in through her flimsy little curtains over the kitchen window. If they were, they'd gotten a spectacular view of two swollen tits blowing milk into a stainless steel sink and then that milk spraying up and all over the counter.
Jessica wiped up the mess, she wasn't one to cry over spilt milk, after all, and rushed upstairs to be alone.
On Thursday when she sat for the pair of two year old girls, the parents were away for a bit longer than they'd planned. She'd been told they would be home around 5 but by 6 they still weren't there. Jessica's tits were huge and aching with milk and she feared the forced milking would begin any moment now. As the minutes wore on, her fear increased. She felt a twitching in her nipples, or maybe it was in her mind, and became very nervous. She couldn't let herself spray milk all over these nice peoples' sofa and carpet. She considered taking the young girls back to her house, get her milking done, and then return them. But what if the parents came home before then? They would be pretty upset to find their babysitter gone along with their two children.
By 6:30 the parents still were not home and Jessica was in a very bad state. She knew her milking would come soon. That twitching in her nipples had increased in intensity. As a final desperation, she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it back over her shoulders. She pulled open the cups of her padded nursing bra to reveal the racy lacy little blue bra underneath with its spidery "fingers" encircling her engorged nipples. A tiny drop of bluish white liquid formed at her left nipple and she knew what was coming. She picked up one of the girls from the floor where they were crawling about and playing with brightly colored plastic donuts. She brought the child up to her chest, holding the back of its head gently, and brushed the young girl's cheek against her wet nipple. The child's nursing instincts kicked in and she turned her head while opening her lips to take the engorged nipple into her mouth.
As the young girl suckled at Jessica's tit, a steady stream of milk ran forth. It was actually a somewhat pleasant feeling, much better than the bra constricting on her abused tits and forcing the milk out. The sensation was new to Jessica. She'd gotten it into her head that milking was a horrible and rough thing, but this was actually nice. The two year old girl sucked as much as she could, leaving Jessica's left breast feeling much lighter. But now she felt lopsided because her right breast was still quite full and threatening to explode under the pressure.
Jessica sat the one girl back down and picked up her twin sister. She brought this child to her right breast and repeated the nursing process. But as the child began to suckle, the navy blue bra constricted at last, but only on the right breast, and shot a high powered spray of milk into the surprised child's mouth. The little girl sputtered and began to cry as milk continued to shoot into her face. But thankfully the constriction lifted quickly, the girl apparently having sucked out a decent amount of Jessica's milk already, so there was only a small damp patch left on the carpet. Jessica held the crying child to her shoulder and burped her. The closeness and tenderness calmed the child quickly, and Jessica sat her back on the floor next to her twin.
Jessica then stuffed her tits back into her blouse and buttoned it all the way up. She went to the kitchen to get a damp cloth to try and clean up the spot on the carpet, but it was still pretty apparent.
"Oh well, it's not like the rest of the carpet is in great shape," she noted. There were spots elsewhere in the room and a few dirty shoe prints near the front door.
It was passing 6:45 and there was still no sign of the young parents. A few minutes passed before Jessica heard their car pull into the driveway. She lifted one of the young girls and cradled her in her right arm, then moved to open the front door. She greeted the young couple pleasantly, and they apologized for being so late. They paid her twenty dollars extra after ensuring their children were safe, and Jessica was on her way.
The following week, while babysitting for the fifteen month old boy, Jessica got that intense twitch in her nipples. She had practically just gotten to the parent's house and gotten them out the door, and already she felt the need to lactate. She tried to think of other things but the intensity of the nursing need increased, clouding out all other thoughts in her mind.
A few minutes later, she found herself with her tits bare except for the navy blue bra and the young boy's lips wrapped around her left nipple. The feeling of natural breastfeeding was again pleasant compared to the forced milking, and she began to feel slightly turned on by it as well. Her pussy was starting to feel damp and hot, but she knew it was only an affect of the nursing and not an actual need for sex.
Jessica moved the young boy now to her right breast, the left having been fairly well drained - and my how this kid's hunger seemed insatiable - when she noticed a man standing in the bedroom doorway. Jessica let out a sharp gasp as she realized it was the boy's father and he was videotaping her as she nursed his son!
"Relax little lady, I don't want any of your milk, but if you don't finish what you're doing, I'll call my wife in from the car, and she won't be too happy about you feeding her baby." Jessica shut her eyes tight, hung her head, and whimpered as the man videotaped his baby boy suckling at her huge tit while her other tit, thoroughly covered with the boy's saliva, hung in the open air.
"You just be a good girl now and don't let me bother you," the man said as he walked into the room to get a closeup of her tits. "I guess it was a good thing I had to come back to get my wallet. I would have missed a whole lot if I weren't so forgetful."
Tears rolled down Jessica's cheeks as the baby boy sucked the last of her milk out. She dutifully held him to her shoulder and burped him. She then rushed to the bathroom to towel off, with the father still videotaping her the whole time. When she had buttoned up her blouse, he set down the video camera, removed the tape, and took it with him.
"I'll be back with my wife tonight. I suggest you don't mention this to anyone."
Jessica spent the evening crying. When the parents returned home from their evening out, she was paid a pitiful five dollars and given a stern glance from the father which told her she had best not argue that they'd promised her twenty.
Two days had passed since Jessica's humiliating encounter with the father of the infant she had been nursing. She felt dirty for having been caught in the act of relieving the buildup of milk in her breasts. She felt used by having been videotaped doing it and then being paid one quarter of what she'd been promised -- but given the circumstances, she didn't feel she even deserved the five dollars they'd given her.
It was time for a change. Not just any change -- not like another change of jobs which she couldn't hold down thanks to her swollen, milk-gushing breasts. She needed a life change. She needed to find someone who could do what she could not, and that was to get this damned bra off! She had resolved that magic did indeed exist in the world and this bra must contain all the evil, cursed magic. There simply was no better explanation. Two pair of scissors, her neighbors gardening shears, and several sharp kitchen knives lay in ruins on her kitchen floor from trying to cut through the lacy blue fabric of the bra. How could it not be magical?
So her resolution: fight mystic powers with mystic powers. She thumbed through the yellow pages and found numerous alternative medicine listings -- everything from accupuncture to crystal therapy, aroma therapy, and spiritual therapy. She chose the latter and made an appointment for that afternoon with a local healer by the name of Doctor Tuong. She dressed casual in a thick, long sleeved, baggy gray shirt she kept in her closet for winter, and a pair of faded blue jeans. For shoes she chose a pair of three inch platform sandals. Her hair was in disarray so she spent a few minutes in front of her bathroom mirror trying to make it at least presentable.
She hurried to her car and drove downtown for the appointment. She was disappointed to see the doctor's office was little more than a spruced up old storefront with an adjoining wall to a laundromat next door. She nonetheless pulled into the first space she could find and rushed inside.
The interior of the office was adorned in hanging strings of beads and a fragrant incense burned somewhere, unseen. Several dusty bookshelves containing hardbound and paperback books, mostly written in symbols and languages she couldn't read, lined the North wall -- the wall which was shared with the laundromat next door. The main room of the office stretched back perhaps ten feet and contained nothing more. A single door in the middle of the back wall opened and a middle-aged woman of Asian descent quietly greeted her and welcomed her to the back room.
Once the door closed, Jessica was introduced to the doctor himself, an elderly Asian man with thick, cracked lips, short gray hair, and the shining eyes of a child. There were two small rooms, one to either side of a narrow corridor, in this part of the office. Jessica was led to the door on the south wall and asked to get comfortable.
This small room was lit by candles set on wall-mounted bookshelves and various mismatched tables around the room. A large, low, wooden table in the center of the room was the only other furnishing. The elderly woman motioned for her to sit there. Then the elderly man entered and asked Jessica to explain her troubles. She nervously wrung her hands while looking down at her feet. A few moments of silence passed before she built up enough courage to explain that she had become the victim of some sort of magical cursed piece of clothing which could not be removed. The absurdity of her explanation sounded very strange to her own ears and she only hoped this old Asian couple would not laugh at her or recommend a psychiatrist.
To her relief, the old man nodded understandingly. "This," he began, "this unusual, but have been know to happen. Spiwitual fowces work in unusual way. Sometime they tell us something about owselves. Sometime they help us thwough difficult pewiod. Other times, they cause us hawm. I bewieve this spiwitual fowce causing you hawm. I will help you wemove it but you must be wanting to let it go."
"Oh believe me," Jessica assured, "I want to let it go. I can't take any more of this."
"Okay, this is what we do. Fiwst you must be cleansed of contaminants. Anything the spiwit may have touched must be cleansed. We do that fow you. Then you must help me help you. You must believe in what I do and push the spiwit out."
Jessica bit her lips and nodded. The elderly man said something to his wife in their native tongue and she rushed from the room, leaving the old doctor and Jessica alone.
"Now you wemove clothing. All clothing must be cleansed. If not, spiwit could move fwom one item of clothing to other. That be bad. We must cleanse all clothing."
Jessica's heart leapt into her throat. Was he actually telling her to strip naked? She glanced to the door the old woman had gone through. Would she be returning or had the doctor sent her away? She looked into the doctor's face. Those bright eyes which seemed out of place on his worn face calmed her... somewhat.
The door opened and the elderly woman returned. She carried in numerous wicker baskets and sticks of incense. Jessica swallowed her pride -- she'd known she would probably be getting undressed to have the bra removed, anyway, and kicked off her sandals. She stood beside the large wooden table and unbuttoned her blue jeans, then slid them down her shapely legs. Glancing up to see if the doctor was watching, she was relieved to see he was busily preparing something with his wife at a small table in the Northeast corner of the room.
By the time the doctor turned back to her, Jessica was sitting on the table again wearing just her white cotton panties and the cursed blue lace bra. Her other clothing had been piled beside her.
"Evewything! Evewything must be cleansed oh spiwit wemain."
Jessica's pulse kicked up a few notches and she stammered, "I-- I can't."
"You must. We all pwofessionals hewe."
"N-no, I mean I can't remove everything -- this bra -- the bra is cursed. I c-can't remove it. I've tried many MANY times." She was on the verge of tears.
"Okay then, bwa wemains fow now, but undewpants must go. Must be cleansed."
Jessica fought back tears as she stood beside the table and slowly pulled her white panties down her thighs, past her knees, and let them drop around her ankles. She now stood completely naked save for the blue lace bra which hid absolutely nothing. Her huge breasts with their pronounced nipples stuck straight forward for all to see. Well, the one consolation was that her tits didn't sag one bit, she mused.
The elderly woman picked up all of Jessica's clothing and hurried off with them. The doctor then told her to kneel atop the table. With shaking limbs and a racing heart, Jessica climbed up onto the hard, polished wood and knelt there. The doctor took her left wrist and slowly guided her hands foward to the end of the table, leaving Jessica down on all fours with her bare ass in the air, her untrimmed black pubic bush and labia surely visible between her slender thighs.
A moment later, she felt the doctor's hands upon her back. He was rubbing some kind of lotion around the bra strap. His hands wandered down the small of her back, then around her sides to her belly. He then rubbed the lotion all around her fit abdomen while working his way up to her breasts. Here he stopped, took some more lotion, and began applying it above her breasts, across her shoulders and down her arms. He rubbed every finger individually until they shone in the light of the candles. Maybe it wasn't lotion but oil. It gave her that shiny look.
The elderly woman returned and assisted her husband with applying the salve to Jessica's almost naked body. The woman applied a cream to Jessica's flushed face from the center of her forehead down her temples to her cheeks, across her nose, around her lips, under her chin, and up to her earlobes. Every part of Jessica's face was being oiled as the doctor began rubbing the oil into her ass cheeks, down the outsides of her thighs and shins, down her feet to each toe, then up the soles of her feet (which made Jessica squirm and gasp because it tickled so), then rubbing up the insides of her legs to her crotch. Here the man stopped and motioned for his wife to come around behind Jessica.
Jessica's eyes were shut tight, imagining how she must look there on the table, on all fours, all oiled up and naked. Suddenly a pair of oily fingers made contact with her womanhood. Jessica's eyes flew open and she turned to see what was going on. The elderly woman was between her legs with one hand planted in her crotch and rubbing oil all over Jessica's pubic mound and labia. The man, meanwhile, had thankfully turned away. Jessica would not have been able to stand watching the man watching his wife grope Jessica's pussy.
Once she was completely oiled up, the elderly couple began moving around the table with burning sticks of incense and chanting in unusual tones. This lasted for several minutes, but seemed like hours to Jessica as the trembled in humiliation atop the table.
As the chanting continued, Jessica felt the all-too-familiar tightening of the bra around her heavy hanging breasts. Then she was swatted on the ass by some sort of decorative fan the old man was carrying. As he continued around the table, he swatted her left breast with the fan as well. There was a temporary relief from the constriction of the bra, though it left her with a stinging sensation from the swat. On the other side of the table, the doctor swatted her right breast, and again there was a sting but also a momentary relief from the constriction of the bra. This went on for several more minutes -- with Jessica's ass and each breast being swatted in turn, and each time the pain in Jessica's breasts decreased.
Now the elderly woman began rubbing some sort of hot oil into Jessica's breasts. She kneeded and worked Jessica's flesh in a way that seemed similar to the hand-milking of a cow. The oil went on warm but seemed to heat up over time. Eventually it felt like her enormous tits were on fire and she cried out, but the rubbing and swatting continued until, finally and without warning, the lacy blue bra crushed inward on her poor tormented breasts, forcing numerous gushing streams of milk to hose down the table top. Jessica would have screamed if she'd been able to pull in enough air to let it out. Her tits were squeezed mercilessly by the bra and milk poured across and over the sides of the table.
And then the also familiar orgasm built quickly between Jessica's legs, and she felt a gush of pussy juice run down her thighs as waves of passion overtook her only to be met halfway up her body by the pain of the hardest forced milking she'd had to date. The two intense feelings mingled into one odd sensation that drove Jessica wild. Intense pain mixed with intense pleasure -- she felt like her whole body was going to explode.
The bra then suddenly released and fell off her, into the pool of warm milk. Jessica collapsed atop it, unable to breathe, unable to even whimper. Sweat poured down her face and she stared, bleary eyed, at the candles on the nearest wall.
Jessica was vaguely aware of two pair of hands lifting her off the table and to her feet. On shaky legs, they led her out of the room and across the narrow corridor to another room. This room was lit with a single electric lightbulb hanging from the center of the ceiling and contained a large wash basin along the West wall, a table along the East, and a door in the North wall. Jessica was led to the basin where she stood as the elderly couple washed her down with wet cloths, then patted her dry.
She was beginning to regain her composure and her sanity. She quietly asked to have her clothes back. The elderly woman replied that her clothes had been cleansed and to follow her. She led Jessica through the door in the North wall while the old man went back into the corridor.
To Jessica's horror, the woman led her directly into the back of a laundromat! Not just a laundromat, but a busy one at that! Numerous eyes of men, women, and a few children turned to look her way. She whimpered and tried to cover her huge, reddended and sore tits from view with her left arm while covering her crotch with her right hand. She knew it was of little use. They'd already seen her and there was far too much upstairs than she could cover with her one arm -- with both arms she might save her upper body dignity but that was not an option.
The elderly woman opened the nearest dryer door and Jessica thankfully took refuge behind it, only to realize that, like most commercial dryers, the door was little more than one big circular window and her tits were now pressed firmly up against it to give her audience an incredible view. The elderly woman pulled Jessica's clothes from the dryer and was reaching to close the dryer door when Jessica's aching nipples released one final jet of milk all over the glass, thereby partially obscuring the view of her tits but adding to her humiliation.
Jessica could take it no more. She ran flat out toward the front door of the laundromat, thinking only to get to her car and get home as quickly as possible. She would never be able to show her face in public again.
Whistles and catcalls followed her naked ass as it exited the front door. Jessica got to her car, thankful that she'd parked as close to the building as possible, only to discover she had locked her doors and her keys were in the pocket of her blue jeans! She stood, completely naked in the late afternoon light, trying to find her blue jeans. Getting her head together a bit, she remembered the old woman in the laundromat had them. She rushed to the front door of the clinic, hoping to avoid any more laundromat patrons, several of whom were watching her from around the laundromat door.
The clinic door was locked. She whimpered uncontrollably, hung her head, covered her tits and pussy as best she could, and trudged back into the laundromat to use the back door of the clinic. A hand slapped her bare ass as she entered through the front, and she didn't bother to swat it away. She just cried.
Her clothes and keys lay on the back counter of the laundromat. She grabbed them up, ran for the front door, and out to her car. Without bothering to get dressed, she jammed her key into the ignition and raced for home, her cheeks red and puffy from crying, her heavy tits sore and jiggling freely, and her pride completely shattered.
When Jessica awoke the following morning, she found a message on her answering machine. She very nervously pushed the play button. In a moment, a vaguely familiar voice came across saying:
"Uhh hello, miss Miller. I don't mean to disturb you, but this is Tom Jacobson at Maxwell International. You had an interview with us a couple of weeks ago and... there was some misunderstanding I believe. I want to assure you, miss Miller, that we completely support working mothers. I would like to have you come back for another interview. Your competence is unmistakable and if you have not already found another position, we would like to see you working here. There are just a few formalities which need to be worked out, but I assure you that, as a young mother, you will not be overlooked. You can call me back at..."
He thought she was a young mother? Well yeah, how else would he explain the milk running out of her tits? It had been quite a hellish experience, but now that the cursed blue bra was gone, things might be able to get back to normal... just maybe.
To be on the safe side, Jessica flung off her bedsheet and took a good, long look at her naked body. Nope, no sign of that damned bra. Her breasts had also shrunk somewhat -- they were at least two cup sizes smaller this morning than the previous night. She shook her head in disbelief at the total lack of any stretch marks or other signs of abuse from her magically altered state. This was just incredible. If it hadn't been for the forced milking, Jessica could have grown to like having those huge, gravity-defying breasts. Her boyfriend certainly would have enjoyed them.
Her boyfriend?! Where had he gone? Jessica froze up in fear and confusion. Slowly the memories trickled back into her conscience. All the phone calls she'd ignored, the messages she'd deleted from her machine without even listening to them. She'd been in such a terrible state of body and mind that she'd lost all track of her friends and family. Had he given up on her?
Jessica quickly dialed his number. She got his answering machine after four rings and babbled almost incoherently that she was so sorry, that she'd missed him dearly, and that she needed to see him soon. She made up a tale of having been out of town on business, and immediately knew that would never fly. How much business could she possibly have to do that would keep her away from home for weeks on end? But she stuck with it because the truth was still too bizarre for even herself to believe, much less to expect anyone else to swallow.
She went to her bathroom and enjoyed a long, hot shower without the need to blow a load of milk, fixed her hair, and got dressed. She then called back Mr. Jacobson about that job interview. He seemed relieved at the sound of her voice and they arranged a meeting the following day.
For the rest of that day, Jessica got herself and her house cleaned up. A haircut, a manicure, and some new clothes that fit her decreasing bustline rather nicely. By the end of the day, she noted her tits were halfway back to their normal size and shape.
She arrived early for her interview with Jacobson, who looked slightly disturbed by the changes in her body. He also noted she seemed much more confident of herself and her mind stayed on subject throughout the interview. He had no choice (literally, as his boss had practically demanded they hire the poor young mother) but to give her the job. The pay was better than she'd made at her previous job and the responsibilities were sure to push her limits.
Having won the job, Jessica decided to celebrate by going out and buying herself a new bra...