Lactohydrosis

Millie knocked on the bathroom door for the second time, rolling her eyes.

"Shower's been off for a while now, Clara! I've got to get ready too!"

"I - mmmph - sorry!" came the reply from the other side of the door. "I've just got to - you know."

"I do know!" Said Millie, feeling a little bad for her frustration. "But you can do that anywhere. Use the kitchen sink or something!"

Wet footsteps and a brief ruffling of fabric came from just beyond the door, and then it opened with a click. Clara stepped out, her red hair sitting wet on her shoulders, a towel wrapped around her short, curvy body. The dark-haired Millie raised an eye as she looked at Clara's chest.

"Extra long shower today?"

Clara blushed, the towel stretched out around her volleyball-sized chest. "I don't have a morning class today, and sometimes it's just nice to enjoy a regular person shower, you know?"

"I know." Said Millie, sympathetically. Clara's condition meant she usually showered fast, and even though she hadn't been in there 10 minutes, she considered that a luxurious shower.

"Now go take care of yourself, I can see milk patches forming on your towel!" She pushed past Clara, closing the bathroom door behind her.

Clara sighed as she looked down at her towel, two dark patches certainly forming on her chest. Usually at smaller sizes like this, Clara's milk wouldn't come out without intentional pressure, but the towel was wrapped around her so tightly that it was slowly squeezing her milk out. She made her way across the apartment to her room, closing the door behind her. Clara dropped the towel to the floor and looked at herself in the mirror, sighing.

At 5'2, Clara was short and curvaceous. She had thick thighs and ample hips, a soft round ass, and just a little bit of belly. Looking at herself in the mirror though, the part of her body that stood out was her chest. At present, her tits sat on her chest like two heavy volleyballs, light blue veins running across the pale skin. A dusting of freckles lay across her chest and shoulders, courtesy of her redheaded genes.

Sliding open the cupboard, Clara pulled out one of her smaller sets of milk pumps and attached the cups to her gently swollen nipples. Flipping the switch, Clara let out a groan as they began to push and pull, the attached container slowly filling with milk.

"Damn, why does it have to feel so fucking good?" She mumbled to herself, as she sat her curvy form down on the bed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Lately, Clara had been undergoing some internal turmoil. She was at university, studying finance and trying to forge what seemed like a proper adult career for herself, but her mind was increasingly drifting back to the family business. In Clara's family ran an incredibly rare condition called lactohydrosis, which caused water to be absorbed through the skin and converted into breast milk. Clara's mother ran a sort of wet nurse business. She was capable of producing and expressing several gallons of milk a day, shipping it to hospitals in need all over the country.

Clara's mother had been trying to convince her to join the business for a long time, for one simple reason. Her mother could produce several gallons on a good day, spending most of the day with her feet or hands resting in tubs of water. Clara, on the other hand, was a genetic marvel. Her body was capable of producing several gallons of milk in a warm, 15-minute shower, whilst she was consciously trying to make her body absorb as little water as possible.

Clara's mother was insistent that she would be incredible at the job, and would help thousands of families across the nation, not to mention she'd make a lot of money too.

As much as she hated to admit it, the idea of a career spent getting paid to grow and lactate was very tempting. It was what her body was built for, the reason she put on curves in all the right places so very easily. It was like her body was desperate, crying out to her to touch water, let it do what it was built to do. But what was it really built to do?

Clara wasn't the adventurous type and had never really pushed her body to its limits. The biggest she'd ever grown was not much bigger than she had been after her shower. When her mother reached this size, she groaned about how full she felt, how she knew she couldn't take much more, how she had to release. Clara had never felt that feeling before. In fact, at her mother's biggest size, Clara somehow still felt... empty. She knew her body was capable of so much more. How big would she need to grow to...

The pump began to whirr as it pulled in air instead of milk. Clara was snapped out of her daydreams, unaware that her chest had already shrunk back to her regular apple-sized breasts. She glanced at the time on her phone, and her eyes widened.

"Fuck, I forgot the study group!." she said, not realizing how much time had passed. Pulling on jeans and a baggy orange sweater, she grabbed her laptop bag and hurried for the door.

Clara hurried across campus as fast as her body allowed her to whilst keeping modest, her soft curves not built for sprinting. Eventually, panting, she reached her friend Aubrey's dorm, and let herself inside.

"Jesus, I'm thirsty now." She mumbled to herself, swinging her bag over her shoulder and fumbling inside. She felt her irritation grow as she didn't find her water bottle inside. She usually carried a good quality water bottle with her everywhere, one that had an attached rubber straw that needed to be sucked on for water to come out, to avoid accidental spillages. Her eyes drifted to a water fountain on the wall of the hallway. Hesitantly, she walked towards it. She wouldn't normally, but she was so thirsty, and...

Clara leaned down and pressed the button on the spout, and water sprayed out at completely the wrong angle. She released it quickly, jumping back with a yelp, but the water continued to spray, dousing her at high pressure. As suddenly as it started, the torrent died off, but the damage was done. Clara's jeans and sweater were soaked. She looked around for somewhere to duck into to quickly dry off.

"Clara! Are you okay? I heard a shout." Clara spun around to see Aubrey sticking her head out of her doom room door. Her eyes drifted down to Clara's clothes.

"Ah, you used that fountain, huh? It's been broken for weeks, but they still haven't sent anyone out to fix it. Come in, I'll get you a towel and you can try to dab yourself dry." She leaned in closer to Clara, a cheeky grin on her face. "I've invited someone you might know, and I don't mean to play matchmaker or anything, but she's definitely into you."

Clara blinked. "Wait, who are you..."

Aubrey turned and walked back into her dorm room, leaving Clara standing, flabbergasted.

Clara followed Aubrey into her room and shut the door behind her. Another girl from their economics class, Sarah, waved at her from the table. They'd rarely spoken, but Clara had often caught her staring from across the room in class. Clara had to admit, she was seriously cute, slender, and pale with silky jet-black hair, and Sarah had caught her staring a few times too. But there's no way she'd be into Clara, right? Although Aubrey was a serial matchmaker, and she wasn't usually wrong...

"Hey, Clara!" She said, a genuine smile on her face, snapping Clara out of her thoughts "I'm really glad you made it! I was worried you weren't coming."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I -" Clara stifled a moan as she felt the familiar feeling of milk flooding her breasts. "I got a bit sidetracked this morning."

Clara moved towards the table and sat down, pulling her laptop out and placing it on the table. Aubrey approached from the bathroom carrying a towel and moved to hand it to Clara.

"Oh! You're almost dry already!" She said, looking at Clara's clothes. Clara flushed red.

Damn, she thought. I've absorbed it all already.

"Huh? Oh, you're right. It must not have been as bad as it looked. Thank you, though."

Aubrey shrugged, tossing the towel onto the floor. She sat down at her seat, and the three girls began to discuss the last few lectures. Clara did her best to nod along, contributing to the conversation where she could, but her attention was somewhere else. She could feel her swollen tits spilling out over her bra, the fabric pushing into her soft flesh in a way that felt too damn good. This sweater was low-cut, but not low enough to expose cleavage, and Clara prayed that the bagginess of it would hide any growth. A loud gurgle from her chest stopped the other two girls mid-sentence.

"Sorry!" Clara said, flustered. "I'm just... probably thirsty or something."

"Oh, you poor thing!" Aubrey said. "You never managed to get a drink, did you?"

Aubrey jumped up from her seat and walked to the kitchenette, grabbing a large glass and filling it at the sink. She walked towards Clara, arm outstretched to hand her the glass, and stumbled on the towel that she'd tossed to the ground earlier. She managed to keep her balance and stood up straight and proud.

"Geez, that was close. I shouldn't have left that towel there. Sorry Clara, here's your..."

Aubrey trailed off as she looked from the towel to Clara. The redheaded girl sat with a shocked expression on her face, her neck, exposed part of her chest and the front of her sweater drenched in water.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" Aubrey exclaimed. "Just what you needed too. Damn, I'm a klutz." She grabbed the towel from the floor and handed it to Clara. Her sweater was still wet, but the water from her chest and neck was already gone. Before she could say a word, Clara grabbed the towel and ran into the bathroom, red-faced, and shut the door behind her.

Alone in the bathroom, Clara groaned as she felt her breasts swelling against her bra. She pulled her sweater off and threw it to the ground, looking at herself in the mirror. Her bra was designed to comfortably hold her apple-sized breasts, but the flesh stuffed into them was pushing out the sides and top, spilling over the fabric. Clara reached around and unclasped her bra from behind, letting it fall to the floor.

Two grapefruit-sized tits hung on her chest, heavy and swollen. Her nipples stood to attention on top of wide, pale areolae. She reached up and gently squeezed a breast in each hand, moaning loudly as a trickle of milk leaked from her nipples. She clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

A knock came at the door, and Sarah's voice called out.

"Hey Clara, are you okay?" she asked, genuine concern in her voice.

"I'm - yeah, I'm okay." She called back. "I'm just feeling a bit... I might have to run. I'm really sorry."

Clara pulled her sweater back over her head, shivering with pleasure as the wooly fabric brushed over her nipples. She opened the door and strode out into the room, grabbing her laptop and putting it back in its bag. She turned to the two girls, who were both staring at her, concern on their faces.

"I'm really sorry guys, I'm just feeling a little off. I promise I'll tag along next time. Sorry!"

As she turned to go, she noticed Sarah's eyes were focused on her chest. She strode out into the hallway, closing the door behind her, and looked down.

"Fuck." She hissed, looking at the two dark patches of milk on her sweater. At smaller sizes, her breasts usually wouldn't leak unless intentionally milked, but there must have been a leftover flow from when she squeezed them in the bathroom. As she set off through campus to her dorm, her mind drifted back to Sarah.

Did she see? Clara thought. She was definitely staring at my chest, wasn't she? And... Oh fuck, I left my bra in the bathroom. She stopped for a moment, debating whether she should go back. She decided not to, finding the idea far too awkward after her sudden exit.

Clara powerwalked across campus, her swollen breasts bouncing with each step. She drew a few stares from students as she walked, and deduced that their braless, bouncing outline must be visible under her sweater.

After what felt like an eternity, she made it back to her dorm room. It was dead silent, and she guessed that Millie must have left for the day.

Hurrying to her room, she grabbed the pump she had used that morning, and attached the cups to the nipples, flicking it on. She moaned as the pumps whirred to life, sucking and pulling at her hardened nipples. As the milk began to flow, Clara's hand made its way down to her crotch, undoing her jeans and slipping into her panties. The other hand made its way to her breasts, lifting them and feeling their glorious weight.

This is wrong. Clara thought through the pleasure. This is a medical condition. I'm a freak. I shouldn't enjoy...

Her hand found its way to her clit, the pleasure winning out. She was already so wet, and the feeling of fingering herself whilst her swollen breasts were drained was just too much. She quickly approached climax, her body beginning to shake and convulse as the orgasm arrived. Letting out a moan, Clara came. The orgasm rocked through her body, her legs shaking. Milk sprayed from her nipples, filling the cups faster than the hose could take it. It overflowed from the cups, leaking down her torso and onto her lap.

After a few minutes of panting, Clara's head began to clear. She sat on the floor, the pump whirring as it sucked in air, her apple-sized breasts drained and returned to normal. Her torso was covered in milk, as were her jeans. She still had a hand in her panties and she pulled it out, quivering slightly. A whirl of emotions spun inside her, conflicting feelings of pleasure and discomfort. A knock sounded at the front door.

"Ah, fuck. Um... Just a minute!" She called out, scrambling for the towel hanging on her door. She pulled off her jeans and panties and quickly patted herself dry. She pulled on a pair of tracksuit pants that hugged her waist and ass like all pants seemed to. She grabbed a shirt from the floor, a baggy white shirt that she often used as pajamas. She glanced at her mirror as she left the bedroom. The grey tracksuit clung to her lower body, accentuating her hips and thighs. The white shirt hung loose on her torso, but her still hardened nipples were pitching little tents on her chest.

Well, this delivery guy is going to get a little show. She thought.

Opening the front door, Clara's jaw dropped. Sarah was standing in the hallway, looking confident, and yet a little sheepish. Her black leggings hugged her slender legs, and her tight tank top accentuated her torso and petite chest. Her sleek black hair hung about her shoulders, her pale skin contrasting with her dark clothing and hair. In her hand, she held Clara's abandoned bra. Clara's eyes bulged. She's holding my fucking bra!

Sarah flushed, taking in Clara's appearance. She thrust the bra towards Clara, the confident stance she'd held fading slightly.

"You forgot this!" She said. Clara grabbed the bra from her, speechless.

"I, uh... thank you." Was all she could muster. Sarah nodded and turned to leave, before hesitating.

"Hey. This might sound really weird, and it's probably an inappropriate time. I mean, you're probably not even into me. Or girls. This is dumb." Sarah trailed off. "Can I take you out sometime? Tonight, say 6 pm? At Paul's, the burger place just off campus? Something nice and casual."

Clara stared, awestruck, before nodding. "I... I would love that. That sounds perfect."

Looking relieved, Sarah smiled at her, then turned and left, her face red. Clara stood still in the doorway for a moment, surprised. "I... I guess that's a date." She said to herself, closing the door.

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Clara arrived at Paul's a few minutes before six. It was a cozy burger joint just off campus, only a 20-minute walk from her dorm. She looked at her reflection in the window, nervous. She had her red hair tied up in a ponytail, the way she liked to wear it. She was wearing blue jeans, a clean, milk-free pair, and a white tank top. She wore a white sweater over the tank top, one that sat wide on her shoulders and exposed the tank's straps. Clara was proud of her lightly freckled shoulders and red hair and worked them into her outfits. She straightened up her sweater and took a deep breath.

"Hiya!" A voice called out from behind. She turned to see Sara strolling up, and god she looked gorgeous. Her black hair still hung about her shoulders, sleek and straight. She was wearing a pair of black jeans, fashionably ripped to expose some pale thigh. She wore a casual-looking black collared shirt, buttoned up with white buttons. She approached Clara, and Clara noticed that Sarah had a good 5 or 6 inches on her. They hugged awkwardly, and Clara opened the door.

The date went wonderfully. After a bit of awkward small talk and a couple of drinks each to ease their minds and loosen their tongues, the girls both became more comfortable and slipped into a friendlier chit-chat. Clara was stunned by how easy it seemed to talk to Sarah, and by how much they had in common. The night flew by quickly, and before they realized it, it was approaching 9:00 and the staff were politely waiting for them to finish up so that they could close.

Sarah opened the door for Clara, and the two of them stepped out under the awning. Clara jumped back with a yelp as she realized it was raining. Sarah put a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I just can't get... I don't like getting wet. Hold on." She fished around in her bag and pulled out her poncho. She unfolded it and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to her ankles. She pulled the hood up and then stared in the direction of campus, nervous. Sarah read her expression and spoke up.

"Look, I know it's forward of me, but my apartment is literally a few minutes away. If you wanted to, you could come around... no pressure or anything. I mean, I have a couch, it's really comfy. You could-"

"I'd love to." Said Clara, surprised by her quick agreement.

The alcohol is definitely boosting my confidence. She thought. Sarah relaxed, smiling.

The two girls quickly walked down the street, Sarah comfortable under her umbrella and Clara shrunk down, huddled inside her poncho. As she hurried along, she could feel rain making its way through her hood and into her shoes and ankles, her skin hungrily absorbing it. Turning a corner, Sarah pointed to a cozy-looking brick block of flats. "That's my building." She said.

A car drove past hitting a puddle that neither of the girls had seen in the dark. Clara's eyes widened as time seemed to slow down, a wall of water moving towards her. It splashed her front on, drenching her face, head and shoulders and she gasped, spluttering.

"Oh shit!" Sarah exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

Clara coughed, feeling the water already being absorbed by her skin. She knew she had mere moments before the milk started to fill her chest.

"I'm okay! Please, let's just get inside."

The two girls hurried across the street and reached the front door of the building. Sarah pushed it open and held it for Clara, who hurried in after her. She could already feel her chest starting to swell, growing heavier with each step. Once she was inside, Sarah headed for the door at the end of the hall, beside the staircase.

Sarah began to fumble with her keys at the door, unaware of what was going on in the body of the girl behind her. Clara could feel her breasts swelling by the moment, and they had begun to expand as their original capacity was filled. They were slowly pushing against her tank top and didn't show any signs of slowing down yet. Eventually, Sarah got the door unlocked and stepped in, holding it for Clara.

Still wrapped in her poncho, Clara hurried inside, stifling a groan. She heard the door close behind her as she looked around for the bathroom, panicked. This was exactly why she didn't date. What was she thinking, agreeing to this? She wasn't made for...