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Morning came, and Iris awoke slowly in the comfortable bed. She shifted, and she felt her breasts move with her, even bigger than before. Touching them, she realized they felt even bigger than the day before. A little sore, but in a way that was deeply arousing. Even just lightly running her hands over them made her pussy wet. She got up and made her way to the bathroom to look at them as she had the day prior. This time, they were visibly larger, but still within the realm of normality; about the size they get to right before her period, Iris estimated. She touched her nipples, which were now incessantly hard, and they leaked with almost no provocation now. Touching her nipples sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, more pleasure than she had ever experienced from having her breasts played with. She continued to gaze at her body, and noted that her hips looked slightly wider as well. Some sort of fat redistribution side effect from the hormones, she suspected. The knock at the door came, and Iris went over to greet the person there. When the door opened, Cindy was there with her breakfast, but so were two scientists in their white coats. They all stepped into the room, Cindy leading them with the tray.
“Good morning sugar, hope you’re doing okay today,” she said, moving to set the tray on the table. The two scientists stepped forward.
“Iris, good morning,” one of them said. She was taller, with glasses. “We wanted to come see you this morning to inform you that after our analysis of your first milk sample, we have found that your milk is of much higher quality than any we have ever seen from a subject before.” Iris didn’t know what to say, so she blushed. The other scientist spoke up.
“We would like to double your daily hormone dosage. This will accelerate the growth of your breasts, as well as greatly increase the amount of milk you are producing. We would need to milk you at least three times per day, as your breasts would become engorged with milk more quickly and frequently. This dosage increase would compound the side effects that have been mentioned to you—your libido would increase, and your cognitive decline would accelerate.” The other scientist jumped in, “But we can assure you, you would not lose more of your function than you otherwise would on a regular dose; it would just happen more quickly. Your faculties will return to you exactly as they would normally after you finish your participation in the trial. Does this sound amenable to you?”
Iris was at a loss for words. She was special? They wanted her milk?
“Does this… Do you do this for everyone?” she asked. Both scientists shook their heads.
“This is very unusual,” the taller one said. “Your milk has more than twice the nutritional value of milk produced by any other subject we have ever worked with. You are very special, Iris.” Iris blushed. She looked down for a moment, considering her body. Her breasts tented the front of her gown, her nipples stimulated just from the brush of the fabric, two wet spots already appearing. How big would they get, she wondered? Iris looked back up at the scientists.
“Okay. You can give me a bigger dose. Where do I sign?” The taller scientist handed her a clipboard with a pen. Iris signed her name neatly on the indicated line and handed it back. The scientists looked at each other and nodded, their expressions unreadable.
“Excellent. Cindy has already prepped a syringe with your new dose for you. We will see ourselves out, and someone will be along to escort you to the milking room as they did yesterday. Thank you very much for your contribution.” The two researchers turned and left, and Iris turned to Cindy, who looked at her with a wry smile.
“Ooh, someone’s blushing,” she cooed, and Iris blushed harder. “Don’t worry honey, you’re in good hands. Go on, be good,” she said, and Iris turned around and hiked her gown up.
“This one’s gonna hurt a little more than the others, we have to use a bigger gauge needle for the higher dose. Deep breath,” she said, Bostancı Escort and then a hard pinch. Iris winced. The pain lasted longer than before, the syringe bigger, more of the serum being pushed into her body. The muscle ached, and then the pain disappeared. “All done! Good girl, you’re a natural,” Cindy said, patting Iris’s butt before pulling the gown down for her. Iris’s clit twitched.
“The higher dose is gonna plump you up a little faster, you’ll notice. Your breasts will probably be bigger by lunchtime even,” Cindy said with a smile. “You’re gonna love it. Enjoy your breakfast honey, I’ll be back to give you your dose at bedtime.” Cindy capped the syringe and took it with her, closing the door behind her. Iris’s breath came hard, her chest flushing along with her face. She could practically already feel the hormones coursing through her body, changing her body to be more suitable for milking. She ate her breakfast quickly, then masturbated twice and lay down on the bed. Her head swam a bit as she stared at the ceiling. What was happening to her? She touched her breasts again. “I’m special.”
By the time a researcher came by to escort Iris to the milking room, her breasts had swelled even more and leaked in earnest, soaking wet patches on the front of her gown. When the researcher saw her, they smiled at the sight of her engorged breasts and gestured for her to come with them. Iris obediently followed. Her breasts were painfully swollen, and she knew she needed to be milked. She wanted them to be milked. The thought of being milked, being used, consumed her every thought. When they reached Iris’s cubicle in the milking room, she climbed onto the chair and opened her gown eagerly, settling in without needing to be directed. As she waited for the researcher to hook up the suction tubes and turn on the machine, she gazed down at her breasts hanging over the edge of the chair, each nipple dripping steadily onto the floor. The scientist connected the milking machine to her body and turned it on, and Iris had to stop herself from crying out at the pleasure of the suction on her nipples.
The researcher left Iris alone, and she stared down at her breasts. She watched her nipples being rhythmically sucked on by the machine, streams of milk flowing freely from each breast and being taken up into the clear collection vessel. After pleasuring herself, Iris reached for a magazine to flip through while she waited for the machine to drain her engorged breasts. As she glanced through the magazine, she found her eyes glazing over as she tried to read the articles and chose instead to enjoy the pictures.
The researcher returned after a while and made a note of the volume of milk in the container, close to a liter this time, and another orderly came to whisk it away. When the researcher detached Iris from the machine, she pulled her gown back up over her breasts gingerly, her nipples overly sensitized after the long milking session.
“I’ll take you back to your room now. Due to your new regimen, they will most likely become engorged again in just a few hours, so I’ll be around to escort you back then. Come on,” said the researcher, taking Iris by the arm and leading her away. Iris walked in a daze, still aware of her surroundings, but her body so sensitive that she was lost in a fog of arousal, her body moving independently of her. When she was delivered to her room, she went straight for the bathroom and turned on the shower. Removing her gown and stepping inside, Iris moaned at the sensation of the warm water rushing over her changing body. She touched her aching breasts, brushing her fingers over her nipples, now darker and slightly longer than when she had arrived. She ran her hands over her body, between her legs, feeling the edges of her body dissolve under the water and the sublime pleasure she felt. She couldn’t wait to be milked again.
Iris was escorted to and from the milking room two more times that day, giving a total of almost three liters of milk for the day. By the Kadıköy Escort time she was returning from her third milking session, her nipples were painfully sensitive, leaking milk as she walked back to her room. It was almost time for her next injection, and Iris waited eagerly on the bed, sitting on top of her hand and grinding down against it to give herself orgasm after orgasm. Eventually, Cindy arrived with dinner and her next injection.
“Hey sugar. Boy, don’t you look like you’ve had a fun day?” Cindy remarked, setting down the tray on the table. Iris blushed and looked away. Was she really already so different? How much was it already affecting her?
Without prompting, Iris turned around for her injection. This time, the pain was deep and pleasurable, itching some spot deep inside her that made her whole body clench. After Cindy took away the needle, Iris’s hands trembled as she pulled the gown back down.
“When… how… is this really only the beginning?” Iris asked Cindy, who laughed.
“Oh sweetie,” she said, patting Iris’s hand. “You are so gosh darn lucky.”
The next few weeks passed in a blur of meals, orgasms, more and more frequent milking sessions, and phone calls with Ivy. Iris’s breasts had tripled in size, and she was able to give liters upon liters per day. They leaked freely at all times, and on the third week Iris was given a wearable milking machine which pumped her breasts constantly. She and Ivy had phone sex almost every night, Iris breathless with orgasm as her body changed before her very eyes. The serum had built up in her system, and her cognition had slowed, demonstrated by the researchers as they asked her to solve puzzles and math problems to judge her progress. All Iris wanted to do every day was be milked, get shots, and cum. There was no room in her head for anything else.
“Oh Ivy, I miss you sooooo much. I miss your body,” Iris panted into the phone. Ivy chuckled. She found her Iris’s debauched state adorable, and relished their nightly phone calls. She had also been receiving daily correspondence from the research facility, as they kept her updated on Iris’s condition.
“Dear Mrs. Gold, Iris’s milk production and quality continues to improve… Dear Mrs. Gold, Iris’s cognitive impairment will soon reach its plateau… Dear Mrs. Gold, We need your permission for something…”
The last sentence made Ivy stop. What would they need her permission for? Her memory flashed back to the day she dropped Iris off.
“So it says here, I need to give you some sort of permission to make decisions for me if I’m unable to. Obviously I trust you, so I’m putting that down. Just make sure they don’t hurt me or anything,” Iris had said with a silly smile, and Ivy had agreed. She had been given the temporary power to make decisions on behalf of Iris when she became unable to make them herself, and Iris was certainly getting to that place.
Ivy read the email carefully. It detailed to her that due to Iris’s unusually receptive body, she was a perfect candidate for a new, top-secret study being conducted by the facility. The email described a treatment that would allow Iris’s body to accommodate implantation of eggs, which would be fertilized and develop over the course of one week in Iris’s womb during a sort of pseudopregnancy. Iris would give birth to the eggs, after which the facility would repeat the experiment multiple times in order to acquire as many fully-formed eggs as possible. The email stated that the purpose of the eggs, and the method of their life cycle, was highly classified. It also stated that the money Iris would make from her stay at the facility would be tripled.
Ivy studied the email for a moment. Iris wasn’t able to make this decision for herself at the moment, so Ivy had to be sure she was doing the right thing. Iris had always greatly enjoyed large penetrations—surely birthing eggs would be enjoyable? The email also specified that the treatment would have no lasting effects on Iris’s body, Göztepe Escort which made Ivy feel better. She wouldn’t want Iris to go through something that would hurt her. After a day of contemplation, Ivy decided she would give permission.
The next day, Iris awoke in her bed and hopped up to attach her wearable milking device. Her nipples had grown longer, like the teats of an udder, and her breasts swung heavily in front of her. There was the usual knock, and the door opened to reveal not Cindy, but two researchers instead.
“Good morning, Iris,” one said. “Today we are beginning a new treatment regimen for you. We spoke to your wife yesterday, and she gave us permission to begin a new experiment for you. Please follow us.” The two researchers stepped forward and gently guided Iris through the door. She walked carefully, her center of gravity now different from the massive size increase of her breasts. The two researchers led her to an examination room with a third scientist waiting inside.
“Hello Iris,” said the next researcher. Iris smiled blithely back at her. “Before we begin, I must detail the treatment we are about to begin for you. We will be giving you a series of new injections. These drugs will alter your reproductive organs to make them receptive to a new type of egg we have synthesized. You will be implanted with the eggs and artificially inseminated, and over the course of one week, the eggs will grow to full size, and you will give birth to them. This will be a repeated cycle. Do you understand what we are going to do?”
Iris nodded, and glanced down at her body. Will my belly get big? I bet that would feel good. The researchers nodded at each other, and offered Iris a form to sign. She carefully wrote her name in script, and the form was taken away.
“Please, hop up on the table.” Iris obeyed. The researcher pulled on a pair of gloves, and pulled out a small tray of bottles and syringes. Iris watched patiently as the researcher prepared, and then injected, each shot into her body. One in each arm, one in each thigh, and one intravenously.
“You should begin to notice the effects immediately,” the researcher said, but Iris wasn’t paying attention because she felt a sudden cramping in her abdomen, followed by a deep, warm euphoria that spread through her whole body. The researcher looked at his paperwork, then back at Iris.
“Yes, very good. One of the serums we gave you dilated your cervix by half a centimeter to make the implantation easier for us. Please lay back on the table and put your feet in the stirrups.” Iris followed the instructions, too blissed out to really care. As she lay there, she stared at the ceiling, fondling her huge breasts as the wearable milker pumped her chest. This is so hot.
“I am inserting the immature eggs into your uterus now,” said the researcher, sliding a plastic syringe tipped with a rubber nipple into Iris’s wet pussy and pressing the tip against Iris’s cervix. From where she lay, Iris felt a small squirt of something go inside her, and the syringe withdrew. “And now the insemination,” the researcher said, and repeated the process with another squirt. Iris shuddered a little, and the researcher pulled away and removed her gloves.
“You can sit up,” said the scientist, and Iris obliged. She felt a little strange, but no stranger than usual. “Okay, we will continue to monitor you for a few days, and then in around a week you should be ready for induction. Thank you for your participation.” Iris was escorted back to her room, and the rest of the day went normally. She hadn’t really understood what they had done to her; all she knew was that she felt really good. In the evening, after her phonecall with Ivy, Iris lay on her bed and ran her hands over her lower abdomen. Just the sensation of touch on her stomach sent bolts of pleasure through her body. Her stomach was still the same size, but inside, the process had already begun, the eggs having been fertilized and implanted in the lining of her uterus and slowly starting to grow. Iris sighed and got ready for bed, removing her milking machine and setting the collection container aside for Cindy to pick up the next morning. She climbed into bed, brought herself to orgasm one last time, and fell asleep, dreaming of nothing.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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