Sharing the Burden Ch. 01-02

Naomi cheered in her own way, using that crystal voice of hers to measure how high her body and mind were going together. Her leg curled around Macy's torso, the ball of her left foot pinned atop a deeply curving lower back. The heated weight of an older, larger, thirsty body above her made her feel a delightful sense of pressure and her body easily yielded to accommodate the forces, soothing them with an offering of rich nectar from humongous, feminine globes.

Milk left in streams and rivers from her, with such a force that her areola were swollen as big as mugs. It's fluidity was mostly a result of Macy's efforts, as it took a significant amount of sucking force to pull the thick, creamy rivers away from Naomi's chest. The shape and texture of her boobs changed as fluid shifted from ducts to the glowing tips. They became softer things, even more pillow-like and easier to rest a head against. Softer breasts were easier to squeeze too, and Naomi took advantage of the extra kneadable flesh by doing just that: mashing her fists and fingers into her glorious breasts to make herself express harder and faster.

"I-It's coming," announced Naomi, her head tilted back.

A breast-centered orgasm ripped through her tiny frame, arresting her into a state of flexed bliss. When she did, production peaked and she lost that softness that made it possible to squash her boobies to fun, yielding shapes. Ounces flooded into her again, created from nothing, warmer and silky smooth. Then, they vaulted away like weapons in three-pronged blasts, caught only by Macy's waiting maw.

It was just what Macy wanted. The milk came quick and hard, battering her throat but soothing it as it went down. Her tummy bent even more against the countertop, part of her bulging over the top into the split between Naomi's legs while the other marched toward the floor. She was absolutely stuffed, and yet there was something about the fullness that remained unreached. With each swallow, even when she thought herself to be too full for even one more drop of Naomi's brew, there opened up a new space within her to make room for more. An odd trust built up in her; that new spaces would always open and that she'd always be able to get bigger and bigger so long as it was Naomi she drank from.

That thought made her heart swell with passion and her tongue dry for another mouthful.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

The two moaned, purred, hissed, sighed. The process of swelling and producing surged again and again, orgasm after orgasm. It became Macy's goal to extend these fits of maddening productivity as best she could. Her tongue turned into a propeller; hands acting as cheerleaders to push Naomi to new heights.

"Look," Naomi wheezed, starved for oxygen despite her constant gasping and sighing. "At your body. It's changing again, like before."

It happened to be about time for Macy to breathe, so she pulled back slightly and looked down at herself. The view surprised her. New mountains and valleys; curves upon curves, behind curves, beside curves.

"It's changing me. . ." Macy said, captivated by herself. The mirror behind Naomi was only a teaser, so Macy stepped out to the side and witnessed herself in her nude glory.

Her tummy distended to a spoiled, glutinous size fitted almost perfectly for her to scoop up with both her hands. There wasn't a hint of flab about it, too; a strictly round, pale belly pulling slightly down on her center but mostly protruding away from her. It was beautiful. Though not as large as she'd been when she drank in a hurry that morning, it carried a concentrated sort of attractiveness.

But what captured her more were the gibbous growths between her biceps. She raised her palms to them, only realizing that it was her own reflection when she felt the fullness of her own breasts against her hands.

"Whoa. Wait, these are real—these boobs are real. But, they didn't look like this before," Macy stated. Her skin felt so young. When her fingers pressed at it, she felt herself popping back in impossibly tiny jiggles. Better yet, she could feel those jiggles even though they were so small and barely registered in regard to the rest of her enormity. "Like, this morning. My tummy was definitely the bigger part of me. Now, I'm actually pretty top heavy."

"Not true," Naomi noted. "You have nice hips. You looked balanced now."

Macy looked and looked and didn't see it. She lifted her breasts in her hands—so, so heavy. Full, she thought. "That's coming from you, though, and you're pretty top heavy all the time."

Naomi's attention went to her body. It had compacted some with all Macy's service. "Well, now I'm not top heavy, so I can say for sure that they look really good on you. You might even be bigger than me now."

"With how much you're making? Give it a few minutes. You'll be bigger in no time."

"Hehe, yea."

"Which means I'll just have to keep drinking so I can stay the biggest. . ."

Naomi's eyes shot wide open, then melted into a competitive slant. "Then I'll just keep feeling all warm and fuzzy so I eventually make enough to be the biggest again."

"I wonder which will get bigger if I race you for size: my boobs or my belly?"

"It doesn't matter. Whichever one gets bigger will just make me make more milk 'cause you'll be even sexier."

It struck Macy that the arguments the two used to have were tense and centered around Naomi's neglect. The teacher had tried all sorts of things to help the lactating girl keep her breasts in check: a milking schedule specific down to the hour with leisure time on the weekends, an alarm system to remind her to milk, and a digital map of all the public-but-private places for when she needed a fifteen minute milking just to take the edge off.

She couldn't believe that now she was the ultimate solution to Naomi's problem—that she believed herself to be the milker needed for Macy's lactation problems and that the arguments they had now were over who would be the biggest; harmless couple's competitiveness.

Now, Macy could keep those same schedules, but to her own satisfaction. And the alarms would be lovely tinkles to remind her to find Naomi and have a quick treat. The maps would mark places where they could share fifteen minutes of lovely nursing unity—they'd double as memory trackers too, since the two of them were bound to make memorable moments together there.

"I love you, Naomi," Macy whispered. And it was probably a little fast, since the same heart that had panged for her to admit it now shrivelled with the concern and weight of the statement.

They were teacher and student. Older and younger, less by actual age than apparent age but still a noticeable margin. They inhabited different worlds, too. This had all started for a legitimate, professional reason. Now, here they were.

Macy wished she could take the words back—she'd been swept up in the moment and in her sexy new body and in promises of the future.

But then, Naomi looked up through her bangs and blinked with ignorance. "Hmm?" She had been playing bongo with her titties, entertained by the jets of cream she could fire when she gave herself intentional pats. "Did you say something?"

"I didn't say a thing," Macy breathed on a sigh.

All she wanted to do now was nurse, filling her mouth with more of what Naomi produced, drinking till her silly anxieties evaporated.

But then, came the Knock! Knock! Knock! of guests. And this time, the knocking was on the bedroom door.

______

There wasn't anything the two could hide anymore.

Once the world of drinking and inflating came to a standstill, they were thrown once more into the rest of the world with everyone else. The knocking turned to banging quickly. Then, there was a loud slap and a slam, like someone had used a battering ram to break the door in. Footsteps thudded through Macy's room just a door away from the naked pair.

More than two sets, thought Macy as she wrapped a protective arm around Naomi. More than Bree and Harriet—an uncountable number of others were out there too. New voices and new concerns, invading the personal space of a girl who had done nothing wrong but had tits that could 'transfer sexy' through contact with her milk.

"They've got to be in here. Bree says they went upstairs and locked the door."

"They're here somewhere."

"Not under the bed. Try the closet?"

"Closet's way too small—one of them has massive boobs and the other is Tummy Lady. They can't fit in tight spaces."

"Then where? They need open space. If they aren't here, they have to be somewhere else. Does this dorm open up to another one?"

"The bedroom next door is locked. They might be in there—. . ."

"Break down the door! We did it to this one!"

"Anika fell into it. We didn't break it down."

"Yea, hehe. Sorry. I was just sorta clumsy about it, and—. . ."

"Wait, what's this?"

The bathroom doorknob jiggled. Feet scuffled toward the door, hushed voices coming up and around the spaces. One girl said she smelled something sweet. Another mentioned that her heart was beating out of her chest at the prospect of what was behind the door.

Then came another voice over that of the masses.

"What the hell are you people doing in my house?! Get out of—get the hell out of Naomi's room! This is trespassing, you miscreants." One of the girls mentioned that they had gathered in search of Naomi and the Tummy Lady. Another said that Naomi was harboring the Tummy Lady and keeping her all to herself. "In the bathroom? Even so, you guys need to back off. I said back. OFF. Move it, sister—. . . Naomi? Are you in there?"

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Naomi? You there?"

The little hucow girl spoke up at the sound of a voice she must have recognized. "Y-yea?"

Macy froze. She was afraid of being found out, sure, but her protective spirit over Naomi was stronger. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she whispered.

"They'll break the door down if we don't do something."

"You're in there? Good! Is there a reason why these people broke into our house? If it's the 'Tummy Lady', or whatever, I'd ask that you kindly deal with the situation."

Naomi scooched down from the counter. Macy helped her down and slung and arm around her. Then, with nothing left to do but face the music, Naomi reached forward and unlocked the door.

The same way the door flew open on Macy at the front door was the way the light, hollow bathroom door swung open, clattering against the wall behind it. This time, instead of just two girls swarming in after her, Macy found an entire hive of females, ranging in college ages and heights and levels of attractiveness, all clamouring through the door in a wave with little regard for the space in the room.

At the head of the group was Cherice, Naomi's roommate. Without so much as a start, she folded her arms at the chest and bobbed her neatly-kept red hair to the side.

"Care to explain why there are thirty girls trying to get into our. . . Oh. Oh, that's why," said Cherice, her harsh features softening at once when she realized she'd stopped only a few feet away from Macy. She didn't hide that something about Macy struck her fancy—that everything about Macy struck her fancy. "Ah, this makes sense."

Macy raised her hands. She hadn't known what to expect but saw that the girls on the front row were being pushed by the ones in the back, squeezing into the bathtub, under the sink, and on top of the commode just to see Tummy Lady and her cow girl. It had been a fearful thing, urging a tsunami to stop for fear of being swallowed by it.

However, to her and Naomi's surprise, the crowd stilled at her gesture. They seemed an obedient troupe, careful to form a neat semi-circle around Macy, Naomi, and eventually Cherice.

It was almost like being a teacher; what she asked became law in the space of a classroom. Except, in class her influence extended as far as her students were willing to agree; for the hour-long lecture session or while she held their grade in the palm of her hand.

This power was new and had been defensive. She just wanted the girls to not push from behind and make anybody else fall or cause damage to property—two doors were enough, she thought. The solidity of their stop, though, showed that she was in command, and her grasp of the situation seemed to sneak up on her.

"I, uh," Macy started. Searching for words, she felt Naomi hugging her from the side. "I guess I'm the Tummy Lady you all have been hunting for. Yea. . ."

Then came a declaration that stopped time as well as the harem of college females:

"Ms. Green?" said one student. "That's Ms. Green. From Ethics 101."

Just like that, despite her newly revealed powers, Macy's hope of anonymity was dashed.