This was written during a tough time, and after a similar bad experience I had.
Please be safe out there, I feel as a unique and small ABF/ANR community, it can be easy to settle for less than we deserve, don't!
I wanted to write a piece that would rekindle my hope for something I am now not sure is possible (I haven't met my Rowan yet).
I am unsure if I will write other ABF stories going forward...
But this helped so much, and I want to tell any other women out there on a similar journey to not give up hope, who knows what joy lays ahead after all?
Never give up Hope
Opal was having a rough Monday, her company stated out of the blue that they were drastically downsizing, and staff would be cut, she had tripped on a broken piece of paving on the way in and cut her arm, and she had been through the weekend from hell.
When she saw her name on the list of staff cuts, she picked up her bag, and after five years of blood, sweat and hard work, she walked out of her workplace. She had no idea what was next, but she figured she deserved one weeks break before she picked herself up and started again.
On a whim she booked tickets to a beautiful seaside town in Wales and after getting home, dressing her wound, and having lunch, she hopped on the train. Whilst going through the less attractive parts of the journey she thought over the past weekend.
She had been into and intrigued by ABF and ANR for a long time, having met a small handful of men over the years for one off instance where they dry suckled her heavy breasts. She had induced by herself, gone through bad supplements that made her ill, others that made her feel odd, or not herself, and had finally found some that had suited her.
She had social meets with gentlemen, men who were disrespectful and rude, and those who only wanted an excuse for sex. She had been disappointed more often than not, when she was harassed, treated badly, let down, or when tastes and expectations didn't mesh well. She tried her hardest to self-induce, seeing her breasts grow and change, and she went through the heartbreak of getting near to milk, but not getting it.
She saw a lactation consultant, who told her she needed a supportive partner who would dry nurse regularly, and they had no doubt her milk would come in. Some people just could not induce with just tens, pump, and their own hands, it took the care and support of someone else by their side.
She recalled crying in the bath tub when she found out her pictures had been shared by some vile people online after she refused one of them sex after he had said all she needed was for him to get her pregnant, that they had mocked her online, and that a few had also tracked down her address and left her harassing messages.
All because she put up boundaries when a man insisted he wanted/was owed sex with suckling and she said no thank you. It hurt even more that some she had spoken to online grouped up with the instigator because she had also turned them down. She had a very embarrassing trip to the police to report stalking and online harassment and threats.
It all added up to the fact that she was now far too nervous to go online and seek someone like minded to suckle regularly. She did not want a long-term relationship, but a close loving friend who could share the journey towards milk with her. But not knowing who else could have been involved with the harassment made her delete all her accounts and give up hope.
That came with the depression of knowing she was never likely to find someone who shared her interest. She slowed her inducing, crying when she felt the need to pump or tens, and instantly being reminded of all that had happened. But her breasts were used to a certain timetable, and she still tried to Marmet massage and use her pump when they became very heavy and needy.
She enjoyed the beautiful scenery, her breasts slowly starting to ache in a way that she felt they needed attention, nipples hard beneath her favorite nursing bra. She still enjoyed wearing it, despite all the awful things that had happened she still held to the determination of getting her milk in one day, and hopefully having someone to share it with.
When she reached the final station she dragged her suitcase off, her breasts tingling and heavy, she spotted the bathrooms, and a nursing room attached. She had used them before, but found they had a stigma around them of people being aggressive if you went in without a baby or child. She had no idea why, as she knew some moms would go in to express to a bottle when their kids were at nursery or elsewhere. So, she hesitated a moment, but after seeing the street was empty, she strolled in and locked the door.
It was a small room, thankfully clean-unlike some that were often mistaken as a nappy changing room. It had a chair, side table attached to the wall with plugs, a sink, and was decorated in baby blue. She pulled out her favorite double pump, she had a more compact in bra one, but this one was far more powerful and satisfying.
She plugged it in, arranging the chairs height and clipped open her nursing bra with a sigh as her heavy breasts fell out of the cups and she gave them a soft fondling. She loved weighing them in her hands and stroking them softly, giving them the love and attention they, and she, deserved.
She attached the pump, and sat back with her eyes closed, enjoying the gentle massage/let down feature first. She drifted, as she often did, imagining warm gentle hands on her breasts and a wonderful warm mouth at her breasts. She changed the feature, and enjoyed the stronger suction and pulsing around her nipples. She couldn't go up to the highest setting, it was just on the side of TOO firm, but she had been told by those with milk that she would be thankful of it when her milk came in.
She was there half hour, still fuzzy headed when she pushed the pump into her bag and clipped her bra closed. She had a couple of hours until she could get into her rented cottage. She decided to find a tea and sit down somewhere, eschewing the busy cafes full of couples and students she found a hut by the sea and ordered a decadent hot chocolate. She sat on a bench, watching the seagulls hovering as she sipped her drink, her breasts still tingled pleasantly.
