In the rustic manor, Sophie unbuttoned her top to free her breasts. Everything else about her was perfectly composed. From her high-heels, to her office skirt, to her makeup and hair -- everything was professional.
Her blouse was open and her bra was lifted. Sophie's breasts were plump and firm. Her pink nipples protruded whenever she took them out like this.
She was in the library room. The walls were filled with classic literature and a variety of antiques from around the world. Nothing was overly pretentious about this place.
"He's ready to see you now," a maid said, blushing at the sight of the bare breasts.
"Thank you."
A tray with two small glass cups was left for her. There was a mirror in that library and Sophie checked her appearance, still dumbfounded that a woman like herself would allow her breasts to be exposed while on the job. She picked up a portfolio that she brought for this meeting and placed it on the tray alongside the cups.
Then she went to the other room, the home office, knocking before she entered. She closed the door so there'd be privacy.
Her boss was an elderly man named Mr. Rothstein who, despite his age, was still highly active in the business scene. She listened to the phone call as Mr. Rothstein looked through the window towards the view while speaking. She sat down in front of the desk, placing the tray on the table.
Mr. Rothstein turned around and signaled for her to begin. So she did.
Sophie brought a small glass cup to her left breast and pinched and pulled at her nipple. Squirt by squirt, her milk started filling the glass while her boss resumed the phone call.
This was never a position where Sophie imagined her career would lead. Her specialty was dealing with numbers, investments, and taxes. She still did those things, and she did those things very well.
In addition to those duties, her role expanded to include her boss's perverted desires. No, she was never touched or harassed. She was never made to feel uncomfortable. Her career was never threatened if she refused.
This was a mere business exchange between consenting adults. Her boss was a dream client; lots of money, straight-forward, low risks. Indulging in these perverted kinks gave Sophie greater bonus pay.
After a few minutes, the small cup was filled and the boss's phone conversation ended, so he turned his attention back to her, while standing by the window.
Sophie put the filled cup down on the tray and reached for another. Repeating the same process with her other breast, she felt the relief of draining her breasts. Whenever they had these sorts of meetings, Sophie followed the rule of leaving her breasts alone for at least a day so they'd be full.
Mr. Rothstein leaned against the wall and raised an eyebrow at her, which was a signal to get on with it.
Picking up a glass, Sophie brought it to her mouth and drank. She needed a few big gulps to drink it all down. Taking a moment to breathe and digest, she put the cup down and picked up the other cup, drinking it the same way.
When she finished, both cups were empty and her mouth tasted of her own breast milk. The flavor was sweet and creamy. She licked her lips when she finished, and as usual, Mr. Rothstein didn't show much reaction.
"Thank you," he breathed.
"Shall we get to your finances now?" Sophie asked, clearing her throat.
"No, just leave your documents there. I'll read them myself. I've gotten some bad news and I'm not in the mood to discuss finances."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you want me to leave?"
With her breasts still out, she was ready to cover herself and button her top, but waited for permission.
"I want you to do me a favor," Mr. Rothstein said. "There are people on my Board and other business partners who are very loyal to me. At my age, time is short. I'm an old man. I want to give them gifts for their loyalty. And I need your help."
Sophie gulped. It was almost certain what this man wanted, because why else would he ask something like this. Aside from her breasts, their relationship could only be described as business. Mr. Rothstein never asked personal questions, nor did he seem to care.
"I'm assuming this is
outside
of finances," she said.
"Basically."
Usually the boss was blunt and outspoken. Today, the boss almost seemed hesitant, which was rare.
She gestured to her chest. "Does this have to do with my breasts?"
"It has to do with things beyond the scope of your employment. Understand?"
Her heart was beating faster. If a man like Mr. Rothstein was too timid to ask, even after their breast-milk relationship, then it must have been something truly salacious. Overall, she knew Mr. Rothstein was a fair minded and reasonable man who had a few sexual fetishes. Working for him was something she wanted to continue.
"I understand," she said. "No promises, but what are you thinking? As long as this remains discreet, I'll consider it."
"A few of these people I've known for decades. Some, I've known almost my whole life. Aside from business, these people know everything about me. And I know everything about them."
Sophie smiled at the tender words. "I grew up with sisters and I have girlfriends that I'm close with. Believe me, I get what you're saying."
"I've written you a letter," Mr. Rothstein said. "It contains the names and interests of the men who will receive these gifts. The gifts are unusual and sexual in content. If you complete the gifts for these men, then I will hand you a check for $100,000."
"Did you say..."
"Yes, that's the correct amount. A sum like that gives you an idea of how much this means to me. I've witnessed my fantasies come true. I want them to have the same fulfillment."
Mr. Rothstein reached inside the wooden drawer of his desk and placed a thick envelope in front of Sophie. Looking at the size of it, it must have easily been at least 10 pages.
She took the envelope. "Do you want me to read it now?"
"No, do it some place where you can reflect on it."
She held the envelope tightly. "If you're expecting me to...."
Mr. Rothstein laughed and cut her off. "Don't worry, you won't have to fuck them. Besides, most of them are much too old."
When the meeting was over, Sophie pulled her bra down to tuck her nipples away. She buttoned her blouse and fixed her outfit. Leaving the manor, she and the maid both blushed walking past each other.
***
She spent days reading and re-reading the handwritten letter. It was almost like a condensed version of a memoir in which Mr. Rothstein explained why he liked the breast milk fetish. It also gave a detailed breakdown of each business partner, what their relationships were like, and what their fetishes were.
It would be Sophie's responsibility to indulge what these men wanted. Each gift was sexually charged and what she considered to be extremely taboo. A mild-mannered woman, Sophie was tame in the bedroom. The most unusual thing she'd ever done was pump her breast milk so that Mr. Rothstein could watch her drink it.
Turning down the request was a real possibility. She was assured that if she declined, the scope of her employment would be untouched. She was the only woman Mr. Rothstein asked to do this.
What these men were interested in was someone like her: Smart. Middle-aged. Professional. Lactating. With a son of legal age.
She was single and her son was a normal 18 year old. They were a lot alike. They were both math geeks who enjoyed reading crime thrillers and watching movies. Her son had started college already and was a business major.
If they did this, Mr. Rothstein promised to give her son a job straight out of college. The large sum of money was one thing, but a guaranteed job was something else. It would be incredible for her son's career.
One night, she went to Matthew's room and placed the boss's letter on the bed. Then she explained how her relationship with Mr. Rothstein went beyond financial planning and taxation. She confessed everything she did with her breast milk, how she'd milk herself into a cup, and how she'd drink while the boss watched.
Then she explained the financial benefits and job offer for her son. Money like that would be life changing.
With that out of the way, she gave her son time to read the letter. It took about 45 minutes because Matthew read it slowly, given how taboo and extreme the content was. It made sense. People don't read about these things everyday.
Finished, it was time for them to talk and Sophie was ready to field questions. She wondered what would come first.
"You... do that with your breasts?" Matthew asked, perplexed.
She nodded, unashamed. "That's right. You're old enough to understand. I know it sounds bizarre, but one day you'll realize why men like it."
"Actually, I get it."
"Do you?" Sophie raised an eyebrow.
"I think Rothstein does a pretty good job explaining the appeal of it."
She watched her son squirm. Yes, the letter went into great detail about why men enjoy the sight of a lactating breast. Seeing her son's reaction was cute.
"Do you like long, pink nipples?" she asked. "Do you like when they're swollen? How about when the breasts are filled with milk?"
Matthew tensed. "I'm sure you can guess."
"Answer me. If we're going to do this, then we have to be open and honest. There can't be any ambiguities between us."
"Yes, I do," he replied.
"Yes, what?"
Matthew gulped. "I like the sight of long pink nipples that are thick and sensitive."
"And?"