Lisa's Milk Problem Ch. 01 Version 02

Jason leaned forward, "Their effectiveness varies from person to person. But beyond these, there are also other hands-on practices. Massages, for instance, can sometimes help loosen the clogged milk and the ducts."

Lisa's face brightened a bit. "Massages sound good. But would they be effective for my situation?"

Jason pondered for a moment. " Massages can help to an extent, especially with a few clogging points. But in severe cases like yours, where you have narrowings all over, their effectiveness can be limited. It's also too much work even when one has just few clogging points. All that work for limited results."

She sighed, "So what else then?"

Jason looked directly into her eyes. "Some cultures had unique ways of addressing this, especially when the common methods didn't provide relief. They turned to... more personal solutions."

Lisa's eyebrows shot up in intrigue. "Personal? Like what?"

Jason hesitated, then said, "The principle is simple. What's needed is strong, consistent suction, something even more powerful than that of an infant. Some ancient communities realized that adults could provide the needed force."

Lisa blinked, realization dawning. "You mean...?"

Jason nodded, "Exactly. It's intimate, yes, but sometimes, it was the most effective approach. It required trust and mutual understanding."

"A stronger and more consistent force, akin to that of an adult's mouth, can be particularly effective." Jason paused, looking directly at Lisa, gauging her reaction. "I've termed this method the 'Husband Therapy for the nipple and areola.' Because it was the woman's partner or husband who would assist by suckling on her breasts. Their intimate act often inadvertently aided in alleviating such blockages because it would be more powerful than the baby's."

Jason continued, "There's also more aspects to it. During those passionate early stages of relationships, partners often explore each other's bodies, driven by curiosity and heightened desire. For many husbands, this means an almost magnetic attraction to the breasts, especially the nipples. They'll play with them, suck hard, pinch, tug, even give a playful bite here and there," Jason began with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

He continued, "Now, here's the fun part. Imagine, if you will, that every time a nipple is teased or tugged, it sends a little signal to the brain. In response, the brain releases a specific chemical. This chemical travels down and encourages the milk ducts to relax and open up, promoting better milk flow. Over time, as this chemical accumulates from these intimate interactions, it helps in alleviating blockages and enhancing lactation."

Lisa blinked, processing this information. "So, you're saying that all the playful, sometimes rough actions partners do out of enjoyment can actually be beneficial for lactation?"

Jason nodded, "Precisely! It's nature's own way of mixing pleasure with functionality.

After listening to Jason, Lisa's mind began to wander, replaying scenes from her past. The intimate moments she'd experienced, or more accurately, hadn't experienced, became starkly clear to her. Was her current predicament a direct result of not having allowed her breasts the myriad sensations they could have experienced?

Jason touched on the suckling aspect again. He said although other playful activities helped, sucking was still the core activity. Her situation at this stage mainly needed a stronger suckling force.

Lisa shifted slightly in her chair, a perplexed expression crossing her face, back to thinking about Husband Therapy--the act of an adult person nursing from her, which stirred thoughts that she had not considered before. Her mind raced: Who would provide that kind of assistance? Being single, the option of a partner was absent for her. The implications of Jason's method became more apparent, yet it left her with a practical dilemma.

The idea of 'Husband Therapy' was both very foreign and very intimate. Who would she even approach for such a task? The very concept seemed so far removed from any prior experience or conversation.

Jason, sensing her discomfort, leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Lisa, is there perhaps a romantic partner or close friend or someone you trust that might be willing to help?"

She stared blankly, her mind scanning through the list of acquaintances, friends, and family. No one came to mind. "I...I don't think so," she murmured. "Jason, I understand the principle behind the 'Husband Therapy' and it sounds... promising, to say the least. But who would assist with such a method? I'm single. I can't think of anyone who would understand, or whom I'd feel comfortable asking."

Jason sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I see your predicament. It's not something everyone might be open to, despite its therapeutic benefits." They sat in silence, the weight of the situation pressing in. As the minutes ticked by, signaling the close of their appointment, Lisa's hope began to wane. Although Jason had guessed she was single, he wasn't fully sure until now, now that she had mentioned it.

Jason hesitated, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Lisa, I don't usually offer this and it might sound unconventional," he began cautiously, "But after seeing the severity of your situation, coupled with the rarity of such a congenital condition, my heart genuinely goes out to you. It's not often I come across cases as challenging as yours, and knowing the pain and discomfort you're enduring, I feel a deep sense of empathy. If you're truly struggling to find someone, I could... I could offer to assist."

Lisa's eyes widened, her heart rate accelerating. A quick flash of Jason's mouth on her breast zipped through her mind. The image was intense, charged with a mix of professionalism and a hint of eroticism.

She blinked, pushing the image away and refocusing on Jason. The weight of his proposition and the implications were not lost on her. But then, she remembered the pain, the discomfort, and the desperation she had felt just days before. Her mind was going in all directions. It came back into the conflicted thought processes again.

Lisa looked up, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and uncertainty. "You? But how...? I mean, is this even appropriate?"

Jason met her gaze, holding it for a few beats before replying, "Lisa, I am a certified lactation consultant and have undergone extensive training in all aspects of lactation, including this specialized method. I can assist in this therapy. However, it's entirely up to you. Your comfort is paramount."

His words hung in the air, and Lisa tried to absorb them. The very thought of such intimacy with Jason, a near stranger, made her uncomfortable. The professional setting they were in and the medical foundation of the treatment only added to her confusion. She wasn't sure how to process it all.

Did she trust Jason enough to allow him this intimate access? Lisa recalled all their interactions, his genuine concern for her well-being, and his professional demeanor. As she weighed the pros and cons, the realization of her own longing became more evident. She had missed out on many intimate experiences in her life. There were moments when she wished more men had touched her breasts, played with them, appreciated them. She wished she had been more adventurous in her younger years, seeking out more physical relationships, more experiences. Maybe then, she pondered, she wouldn't be facing this issue now. The idea of being desired, of feeling a partner's touch, even if in a therapeutic setting, began to appeal to her on a level deeper than just medical necessity.

Seeing her struggle, Jason gently continued, "Your comfort and trust are of utmost importance. We only proceed with your full consent and at a pace that suits you. The primary goal here is your well-being."

Lisa face was still, lost in thought about this new turn. "Thank you, Jason. I need time to think about this."

After the appointment, Lisa headed home. The next three days were tough. The pain and discomfort remained relentless, reminding her of the unique solution Jason had proposed. She found herself weighing the benefits of the therapy against her reservations, trying to determine the best course of action.

Lisa took Jason's proposal with her when she left the clinic for home, the weight of the decision resting heavily on her shoulders. Over the next couple of days, she did her best to push the idea to the back of her mind, deeming the treatment too intimate and intense for her comfort level. She tried to focus on her day-to-day life, willing her body to adjust and find its rhythm again without needing the extreme step.

However, her body seemed to rebel against her wishes. As the days went on, Lisa felt her breasts becoming even more engorged. Each morning, she'd look down and notice the swelling seeming more pronounced, the marks left by her bra, the tightness more uncomfortable. She pondered if it was just her mind playing tricks on her due to Jason's suggestion, or if it was the herbal tea he'd given her to sample during their meeting, meant to increase her lactation. Whichever it was, the discomfort was palpable.

Lisa tried all the methods she knew -- she took painkillers, engaged in prolonged self-massage sessions, wore looser clothing, but nothing seemed to bring relief. One evening, she began to feel a burning sensation, accompanied by a mild fever. Panic set in as she remembered Jason's caution about the possibility of developing mastitis, a painful inflammation of the breast tissue. Alone in her room, she felt isolated and desperate.

The thought of Jason's proposal began to invade her thoughts more frequently. The internal visual of his assistance, which she had initially pushed aside, now became an intense point of focus.

Tossing and turning in bed, feverish and overwhelmed by the pain, Lisa wrestled with her emotions. She yearned for relief, yearned for her old life, and the thought of continuing in this agony seemed unbearable.

Vivid images of the treatment Jason had described formed in her mind. She pictured his lips, his mouth enveloping her teat, and the rhythmic motion of his strong jaws as he worked on her. She imagined the intense feeling of her engorged, clogged milk ducts yielding under his methodical latch and suckle, the sensation of release as blockages were drawn away, and the relief that would flood her entire being. The thought alone brought a momentary comfort. She wanted it.

The unconventional therapy, which had once seemed too daring, now appeared to be a beacon of hope in her agonized state. The stillness of the night around her seemed to amplify her internal debate, with each throb of pain from her chest tilting the scales in favor of seeking help.

At last, in a surge of determination borne out of sheer desperation, she reached for her phone on the nightstand. Her fingers hovered over the screen, the enormity of what she was about to do causing her to hesitate. She took a deep, shaky breath, summoning every ounce of courage she possessed.

With a swift motion, she found Jason's contact and dialed his number. There was a brief moment of heart-pounding anticipation before he answered.

"Jason, it's Lisa," she began, her voice quivering with both determination and uncertainty. She swallowed hard, the gravity of her decision palpable in the silence that followed. "I'd like to set up an appointment for the... Husband Therapy."