Lost in Akiba Ch. 01

It had been a rough year for Brea. Ever since her older sister Rachel delivered quadruples, her whole family had been in turmoil. And since only Brea lived close enough to the newly baked single mom, Rachel's 'sweetheart' had left before the babies were even born, she felt obliged to help her sister out.

So she had moved in. Rachel had been so thankful about Brea's compassion and soon shared every fear, every worry with her younger, thinner sister. The pregnancy had been a nightmarish experience for her and she felt so terribly alone after her boyfriend had left her.

And if that wasn't enough she faced a 'milk problem'. Rachel had managed to psych herself up to incredible levels with her worry about breastfeeding. So much so that the new mom wouldn't talk about anything else for days. The only problem was that there was no milk. Not the tiniest drop.

The four tiny baby girls had cried all night, but Rachel steadfast refused to give them the bottle. She hoped for a miracle, hoped that her dry, uncooperative breasts would finally deliver. Only they didn't.

Instead Brea's did. And she still couldn't understand why. The doctor had told her that some kind of ancient survival program had been activated in her body, that her breasts covered for the incapable new mom so the babies could be fed.

And how they did! Only days after the girls were back from hospital and the young family got settled, her boobs began to itch and ache; and grow; and wet her shirts. Her rosy nipples suddenly were thick as thumbs and poked through every bra and shirt she owned. It didn't take long for Rachel to figure out what was going on. And of course there was no way for Brea to refuse the rather obvious request.

So yes, she had stepped in. The young redhead had nursed the little girls, and it had been a joy. Sometimes. Her bloated boobs had hurt most of the time and continued to grow to meet the increasing demand, but that was a price she was willing to pay. Life had been tough, but somehow Rachel and Brea managed to keep those greedy little monsters satisfied and healthy.

One year later Rachel thankfully decided that it was enough and that they would switch over to other food. And even better, her stupid 'boyfriend' suddenly turned up again. Apparently the pictures of those cute little baby girls had melted his heart. So suddenly Brea was free from any obligations - and quickly got asked when she could move out again.

The young woman had been planning to go back to university to get a grade in Asian studies. She loved Asia, loved everything Japanese since she could remember. Thinking about her future, she decided to visit that fascinating country first, with the little money she had left. Before committing one's life to a culture, one should better experience it first hand first, right?

To her surprise, everything went smoothly. She had managed to get a rather cheap flight, got a study visa which included a limited work permit and a book full of helpful contacts from university. She even had found an affordable dorm right at the center of the Kando district, close to Akihabara station. Everything seemed to work out perfectly, just that her boobs were as large and bloated as ever and still hurt like shit.

The flight had been a major pain in the neck. She had been in the bathroom so often she couldn't even remember, milking herself, spaying that precious white fluid down the drain. She had left the breast pump at home on a whim because she wanted her tits to finally stop lactating. So it was best to just give up with the pumping altogether, right? Just go cold turkey, she had told herself, things would settle down naturally.

Only they didn't. It was probably the right approach in theory, but Brea just hadn't been prepared for the awful pain it would cause. Maybe it was because she had been used to give milk to four screaming babies for an entire year, maybe her milky white boobies were just so productive that all the milk she was making simply had to get out.

Whatever it was, it made the flight a miserable experience. But she somehow managed to make it through. On the positive side, the rest of the trip had been a breeze. Immigration had been pretty easy with all the supporting paperwork from university, and the young officer behind the counter had enjoyed ogling the thin, short, big breasted girl so much that she started to wonder if he would ask her out.

So now she was in her smallish room that she apparently shared with a young, freckled girl from the Netherlands. A real cutie. She only had met her for a brief moment but she seemed nice.

The first weeks were over fast and Brea was stunned when she noticed she had been in Tokyo for three weeks already. On the plus side, she now found her way around and had figured out where to buy food and what cool clubs to visit. Her studies slowly picked up as well and she found the new experiences incredibly stimulating. Her course in Japanese was incredibly challenging but she was confident she would soon understand the language.

On the not so good side, her boobs still felt incredibly bloated and hurt most of the time. And she still had to empty herself on multiple occasions each day. Thankfully, she had managed to buy a new breast pump, measly small for the amount of milk her twins produced, and the little device had improved the situation quite a bit.

Brea soon noticed that her money was draining away much quicker than expected. Her cash was dwindling fast and she wasn't quite sure how long her credit card was going to work. She feared that the limit was close already and that soon she would be in real trouble. She had to find a job.

Back when she had passed through immigration, the helpful officer had written down some Kanji characters and had told her with a smile that this would be her name in Japanese. She looked at the note again:

爆乳牛: Brea Stacey Cowie.

Brea had heard that it was essential to have business cards in Japan and wondered if she should get some with those Kanjis on them in order to find a job. It couldn't hurt.

And so she got some printed, her English name on one side and those Japanese Kanjis on the other. Then there was her phone number, email and postal address. She chose a fancy black/white template that somehow resembled the pattern on a cow's fur. It looked quite neat.

Now she just needed to find some job openings! Brea started her search right at the heart of Akiba. She browsed through the coffee shops and restaurants, always on the lookout for interesting postings. Unfortunately she couldn't read Japanese and the chances to stumble on an English one were pretty slim.

After some days she figured that there was no way around it. She had to market herself way more aggressively if she wanted to land a job here, even if it made her feel uncomfortable. And so she actively approached whomever she thought might know something and forced her card onto them. Surprisingly many of the folks acted funny once they had a look at her card. Some even chuckled openly and she couldn't make sense out of it. Was there some spelling error? Or maybe they just found her milk-stained shirt amusing?

And then, finally, one guy sporting a suspiciously wide grin handed her a sheet full of Japanese characters and told her "Yes, job! Next street! Maid Cafe OK?"

She looked back at him with interest. A maid cafe? Brea had heard about those already. Weird Japanese inventions. It wouldn't hurt to check it out.

The guy showed her the way and a few moments later she was standing in a little coffee shop packed full of people. Her guide started to talk enthusiastically with an older man who finally approached her.

"You Ms... Cow...ie?"

"Yes, that's me. Brea Cowie. You have a job for me?"

"Yes, yes I have. So you know about job? Milk serve? New idea! Very good job! Paying very good!"

Brea glanced around. The place seemed fine. She saw some girls in rather skimpy outfits serving customers. They had little horns on their head and a black and white pattern similar to that one on her card on their way too small dresses.

Cows. They looked a bit like cows. And it made sense somehow. The cafe almost exclusively served dishes and drinks made of milk.

So that would be her job. Serving milk to customers. In a skimpy outfit. Well, there were certainly better jobs, but she had not much choice.

Brea nodded, "Yes, I take it. When can I start?"

"Please sign. Also need take measure. Start Monday next OK? 6pm Monday OK?"

Brea nodded again as she signed the ineligible paper that he thrusted in her face. The man nodded happily as he pushed her into a tiny room behind the counter where they barely fitted inside. He motioned one of the waitresses over and started talking to her.

The young girl nodded several times and said 'Hi' all the time, which didn't irritate Brea any more. She was used to that behavior by now. Then the man left and the girl turned to Brea and hushed "Wait please?" She dashed out of the room only to return a moment later, brandishing a flexible measurement tape that she unceremoniously slung around Brea's waist.

Brea stood still, imagining herself in one of those cute dresses that all those pretty girls at the cafe wore. She followed the girl's gestures, let her push her arms and legs around. Then the girl murmured "Excuse me, please?" as her tiny hands reached for the seam of Brea's shirt and quickly pulled it over her head.

Brea was startled. Why would they need such exact measurements that a simple shirt would be in the way? Still in thought she jumped as the cold hands of the strange girl touched her again, this time at her back. And then her bra was gone. Brea gasped in surprise, her head flushing, her hands shooting forward to cover her massive breasts.

"What the fuck?" she screamed, more in surprise than in anger. The poor young waitress seemed to be equally startled by her sudden outburst, or probably by her leaking nipples. She leapt away and hushed "So sorry!" with her head lowered. She looked up again and said "Sorry but important! Please?"

The waitress stepped closer again, the measuring tape in her hand. She hesitated, tried to judge Brea's reaction. Brea felt sorry for the young girl and decided to play along. Whatever she was up to, it certainly wasn't dangerous. So Brea held still and let the girl do her job.

She was wondering though why the hell they needed to measure the circumference of her hurting boobs. Anything about her breasts seemed to be of special interest to the girl as she spent ages on measuring and documenting any possible fact about Brea's chest area. Finally the tiny woman nodded, smiled brightly and, with an enthusiastic "Thank you!" handed the clothes back to Brea.

"What the fuck was that?" Brea murmured as she stepped out of the strange place and into the bustling streets of Akiba. She couldn't really make sense of this experience and decided to just ignore it for now. She would see on Monday if that place was reasonable or not.

Brea spent the next days studying while trying to keep her expenses down. The Japanese language turned out way more complicated than she had thought and she was about to give up on learning it. Three different character sets, one of them made up of thousands upon thousands of weird symbols was just too much for her little brain.

Thankfully, her trusty little milking machine worked wonders as ever and Brea could be productive in her free time, more or less satisfied with the little she had.

Monday however was a different story. Not only got she up late, but her pump broke down just when she tried to empty herself in the morning. She was miserable and angry. Her roommate tried to be of help but she couldn't do anything either. Once Brea calmed down a bit she barely had time to shower and eat before she dashed out of the door and to university.

The morning went kind of OK except for the slowly building pressure in her breasts. Brea tried to express some milk in the bathroom but it was so ineffective and she just hadn't had the time nor the patience for it. And then, once lunch was over, she suddenly got nervous. What would the evening bring? Would the job be worth it or an utter disaster? It was hard to tell. She felt queasy.

As she entered the small cafe at 6pm she felt rather stressed and way too nervous for her liking. Her breasts were full and bloated and she yearned for a good milking. Brea looked for the old man but the room was bustling with younger people. No old guy to be found. She saw the same waitress though. Brea approached her, bag still over her shoulder and asked "Job?"

The girl nodded, motioned outside and said "Next door up!"

Brea was confused. This was the cafe where she was supposed to work at, right? She shook her head and said "No, I have a job here, at this cafe!" The girl nodded, "Yes, yes, next door up please?" Brea gave up and went outside looking for the door the girl had mentioned. She found a hazardous looking flight of wooden stairs that led to a small, unassuming door on the second floor. There was a card reader at the side. Brea tried to open the door but it was locked. Suddenly the lock buzzed and the door swung open. And Brea struggled to put some sense in what she saw.

The tiny room was crammed full of stuff, boxes of food and supplies covering every nook and cranny. Except for a small, wooden structure that was painted with the same black and white pattern and some bright, Japanese letters. The oddest part about that thing was the large hole in its middle section and the bright arrows pointing towards it. Suddenly a man appeared from behind the stall and greeted her. It was the same old man that offered her the job in the first place.

"Private room," he grinned, "For special guests. Breast milk is speciality! This your workplace. This your costume. Please wear!"

Brea hesitated. What the hell did she sign up for? Breast milk? Yes, she lactated, but... He face flushed, she stammered "I.. I don't know I..."

"Please? You signed!"

She nodded and reluctantly took the package with her new uniform. Brea entered the stall, shaking her head, mumbling to herself. She slowly stripped to her underwear, desperately trying to come up with an excuse to flee. She tried to put her new clothes on. It only got worse.

The so-called uniform was a cow costume, complete with shoes that looked like hooves, a tight-fitting, black-and-white cow-pattern leotard and a huge, rather cute cow head made of plush that resembled the many mascots of Japan. Brea struggled quite a bit but somehow managed to get everything on, including the giant head, her bra-clad breasts straining against the tight confines of the leotard. She stumbled back outside, barely able to see anything let alone walk with her new shoes.

Her boss smiled happily as he saw her new outfit.

"Very nice! But breast out, please?"

"What?"

"Go inside and put breast out? Your job!"

Brea still didn't understand. The man suddenly walked up to her and reached out. His hands found her tight bra and efficiently opened the clasp. Brea froze as he nonchalantly removed this essential piece of clothing and hefted her large, shaking boobs up and out, the seam of the leotard pushing uncomfortably against the soft undersides of her large, tender breasts.

Brea shrieked. But the man didn't flinch and pushed her gently back in the stall.

"Now serve customers, please. Put breasts through hole so accessible."

The confused girl didn't know how to react to his demands so she complied, taking her position behind the hole. She pushed her chest forward and lifted her tits up a bit until they fitted through the rather small opening, her heavy assets resting on a ledge on the outside of the stall.

Something wet engulfed her right nipple, sucking gently on her teat. Brea gasped, surprised by the new sensation. She wanted to complain, to object to the blatant violation of her privacy, but instead she only could lean forward, pushing her bloated breasts into whatever was causing her to shudder in pleasure. The young woman was moaning joyfully and hoped the gentle sucking would never end.

After a while she came to her senses again, curious about what had happened to her. The pleasant tugging on her sensitive nubs continued relentlessly as she peeked through the gaps of the wooden stall. She saw the old man sucking on her tender breasts, emptying her milk-ladden udders slowly but steadily. He switched from one side to the other, causing her to moan again. Brea was almost sad when he finally let go of her, giving her tender tits a parting slap as he left.