Bon Appe’tit Ch.1

This is a multi chapter story about a young womans journey. She has a desire to lactate and learns what that can really mean. I personally have a fetish and desire to do the same so writing this helped me figure out the motivation. This first chapter is kind of a set up and the following ones get more intense and a little darker.

I sat outside the office with the internet ad in my hand. I was thinking about how I found myself here today and what would happen next. The ad read “ Looking for lactating women or those that want to lactate. Good pay and flexible hours.” I had found the ad while searching for information about lactation. First off I am not married and I don’t have kids, but I have this burning desire to have my breasts filled with milk and then emptied.

I’m 24 and fresh out of college. My breasts have always been too big for my body. At the moment they measured 34EE. I am 5′ 2” and weigh barely 100lbs. Guys make comments all the time about them. It’s rare that someone looks me in the eye while talking to me. I try to dress conservatively most of the time. I think that’s maybe why I haven’t found a job yet. I think employers think my boobs will be a distraction in the workplace.

I had filled out an online application for this job. They called me and asked me to come in for an interview. I was nervous and hoped it would be something like donating milk for babies or something like that. There were other women in the outer office. We all made nervous smiles at each other while waiting. I was looking at a magazine not really paying attention to it when my name was called. I looked up and a nice older woman was holding the door open for me to enter the inner office. I was led back to an office and took a seat. The lady was the interviewer and sat at her desk across from me.

She re-read my application and then started asking me questions. There were some medical questions then some personal ones. Was I in a relationship? Was I sexually active? I answered them all honestly. My answers seemed to please her and then she started to explain what they were looking for.

The women they were looking for must have a true desire to lactate and to give up their milk. This would be a long term commitment and would pay very well. She said of all the women they were going to interview fewer then 1% would end up qualifying. Even then some would not have the dedication to go through with it. I would have to have a breast exam and after passing that I would enter a program to induce lactation. Just like having a baby it would take about 9 months. Even if my milk came in that didn’t assure success. It would have to be tested for quality, volume, texture and taste. They were looking for something very specific and there was no guarantee that my milk would meet all criteria.

I was listening to her when I thought to myself, my milk. I was going to produce milk. I really didn’t care what it was going to be used for now I just wanted the chance to do it. After going over all the legal stuff I agreed to it and signed a mountain of contracts. There was something in there about them being the sole owners of any milk I produced and I was giving them the right to use any method they saw fit to extract it and sell it if they chose too. I just signed away.

A lady dressed in scrubs came in and led me down the hall to an examining room. I was told to undress and was given a gown. A male doctor came in and introduced himself. He was the head of the research department and said I must be special if I made it this far. I smiled and he said he was going to give me a routine breast exam. I removed my gown exposing my large breasts. He poked and prodded them all the while dictating notes about them to the nurse. He squeezed and kneaded them feeling the internal structure. My nipples were pulled and released to see how elastic they were. My areolas were measured and of course lots of pictures were taken. He said “very good” several times and once said the word “perfect”. Finally he smiled while holding one in each hand and told me I was going to do fine.

I was given a mammography to check for issues and some blood was drawn. I was given a shot and some pills and told to report back here in the morning. I went home wondering what the next 9 months would be like. I tried to relax but couldn’t. The shot they gave me had caused a warmth to spread across my breasts. I hoped that this was normal. I took my pills and went to sleep. I woke up early and headed into my new office. As I walked to the building with all the other commuters I wondered if any of them could guess what my new job was. I smiled to myself. They kept us pretty busy the first day. There were more exams, and classroom seminars. I was actually feeling very pampered. I got a massage that afternoon and lots of attention was applied to my breasts. Special oils were used and I was very relaxed and a little turned on by it. Before I knew it the day was over and I headed home.

This routine or something similar continued for the next 3 months. I did notice 2 things. There were fewer and fewer women left in the program and it seemed like my breasts were given more and more attention and priority and not so much me the person. It was like they would talk about my breasts or to my breasts as if I wasn’t even in the room. I could tell they were getting bigger and heavier. My nipples were hard all the time and getting darker. One day I was told by the director that I was going to be transferred to a different clinic that was more advanced. It would be easier if I just lived there then commute. I gave a slight protest but was reminded about clauses in my contract. I rode in a limo to the new place and noticed it was in the middle of the restaurant/entertainment district. There were lots of very expensive places here. The new place was nice and I noticed that there were only a couple of other program participants there. We must be the 1%. I couldn’t wait until my milk came in because that would be the final test.

I was told that my breasts were very special. The program they had been put on was working perfectly. Their progress was accelerated and if everything went right I should be producing milk soon. There was still nothing said about what it would be used for. This was costing someone a lot of money. Surely there was some other use other then feeding babies. Maybe some health research project.

One day I was led to a new room. It was very clinical looking and there was a table in the middle of it. I was in a robe and was asked to take it off and lay on the table face down. I did as told and there was a open area for my face like a massage table. My now huge breasts were underneath me getting squashed. They were like 34JJ. Panels were removed underneath and my breasts dropped into two openings that seemed made for them. I could feel the weight of them pulling them down, swaying slightly. My arms were extended to each side of the table. An IV was inserted in one and both were strapped down. I was covered with a blanket and told to relax.

The lights were dimmed slightly and I could hear voices.