After a week or two, it became hard to ignore that my breasts were in fact getting larger. I gasp, my body trembling with desire. “Stand up,” he commands, and I do as I’m told. He steps closer, examining the droplet of milk with a mixture of fascination and satisfaction. I gasp as the machine begins to work, the sensation unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. Also yes. “It took a bit longer than I expected,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “You’re doing wonderfully,” he says, his tone laced with control. Just once a day at first, but soon it had to be at least twice a day to keep up with the rate my body was producing. Occasionally, he would burst into my room, sometimes not even bothering to take off the chasity belt and fuck me in the ass, giving no explanation other than he needed it. I can feel his shaft hitting my cervix with every thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body.
