Pumping the Breaks

Chapter 2

Odette smiled. “Of course I have feelings for Theo.”

“Wh-What?!”

“I have feelings for all my friends,” Odette shrugged, authentic. “I love you guys.”

Janet had been thumbing the remote that changed the colored lighting in Odette’s gamer girl paradise. At the word “love” she fumbled the credit card sized chunk of plastic, sending it flipping end over end till it clattered on the floor.

“Sorry! Ah, jeez. The battery’s gone. It went somewhere over there—. . .”

Odette fetched the rolling battery and re-assembled the remote with little concern. “They’re cheap and come with every pack of lights. Don’t worry. I’ve got, like, twenty of them.”

“Still, sorry. . .” Janet shrank. Odette offered the remote to her after confirming it still worked. Taking it, Janet continued. “And that’s sweet, Odette. Really. But I didn’t mean those kinds of feelings. I mean other feelings—romantic feelings. For Theo.”

Odette folded her arms in front of her, a child called to the principal’s office. “Oh. Romantic. You mean ‘like-like’ stuff.”

“Yes. ‘Like-like’ stuff.”

“. . .” Odette followed the train of strip lights along the floor to her room. Purple. Pink. Orange. A flash of green. “I’m no good at that stuff, Janet.”

Janet smiled, her recent remote foible erased by Odette’s words. “I’m very aware of that.”

“I don’t know how romance is supposed to feel, exactly. That said, I don’t think I love Theo like that. I don’t think there’s anybody I love like that. That kind of love is weird.”

“There’s nobody at all?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You can’t think of a single person you think of romantically?”

Odette tried rethinking but was distracted by Janet winking her left eye like an eyelash was caught in it. She wondered if it was the speed of the changing LEDs and decided to use the remote she kept at her desk to slow their progression.

Nope. She’s still winking. . .

“There’s people I love in different ways,” Odette answered, scrubbing the confusion off her face. “They don’t feel romantic though.”

“Yokatta. . .” Janet sighed, relief overtaking her.

Odette fretted. “Wait, what? Why’d you say ‘Thank goodness’? And why did you sigh like that?”

Was Janet’s oddness connected to the winking?

“Nevermind. Just, umm, be mindful of Theo,” Janet answered. She swung her legs up into the bed with her, assuming a perched position. “He’s been lonely lately. I’m actually really happy you invited everyone over today. Miss Pari needed our help, of course, but something tells me that Theo could use the distraction too.”

“But why?”

“Odette, you know why.”

Odette pressed her lips together. She didn’t. She never “knew why”. And she disliked how people assumed she was supposed to—especially because it also made her feel good that people assumed so much of her. She chased the feeling, taking on more than she should and muscling through with hard-headedness.

But when it came to stuff like this—stuff like “romance”. . .

She felt sorrow stirring within her, a stillness that made her tummy feel full. It was almost too much, so she grabbed hold of her breasts and began to massage them idly, working pleasure into her body to help deal with a growing discomfort. Her brain churned just like her breast milk, jamming square-shaped solutions into square-shaped problems.

“They must be aching,” Janet said.

“Hmm?”

“Y-You’re, uh, squeezing your boobies. Are they hurting? Do you n-need help milking them?”

“Soon, yes. But that’s not why I was touching them.”

“Then wh-why are you—. . .”

“Helps me think,” Odette admitted. “And right now, I’m thinking about Theo. . .”

Janet’s eyes were huge. “You thought about Theo and started touching your chest?”

“Mhmm.”

“So you don’t feel romantic feelings for him,” Janet said, then pressed a loose fist over her chest. “But are you saying you h-have other kinds of feelings? Don’t tell me they’re. . . s-s-s. . .”

Odette raised an eyebrow. She noticed Janet still seated on her bed, fingers fidgeting.

Having a pair of milk-filled breasts herself, Odette had a keen sense of when a body changed shape. It usually wasn’t of much concern to her—an everyday occurrence, really—but she also knew that Janet’s body hadn’t always produced milk and her recency to the group of people with changing bodies might have explained the weird behavior and fidgeting.

Maybe Janet hadn’t noticed how rapidly her boobies had grown, swollen from producing sweet, warm milk.

Sure enough, Janet’s production had picked up. It was as if something had triggered the reaction. She’d entered Odette’s room with two prominent but modest mounds. She was still able to milk herself down to C and D cups, sizes that Odette could scarcely reach but that suited Janet’s petiteness while emphasizing her femininity.

But as they’d talked—about things that made Odette feel icky and confused—Janet’s chest had pushed more and more against her sweater dress. Slowly, the thin, light material gained a set of defined hills, and each time Odette checked, she noted further developments. Orbs turned into globes. Those globes, shaving away at the available space beneath her sweater dress, gave the illusion of merging together to form a shelf. With Janet’s perfect posture, they jutted further forward and were now unignorably prodigious.

Odette felt the desire to hug Janet again. Her friend was even cuter with bigger boobs, of course, but having played with her own breasts as she had, there was a tingling need within them that Odette knew would only be sated with physical contact.

“S-s-s. . . S-s-se—. . .” Janet stammered, a mile-long stare as she hissed. “W-With Theo. Odette with Th-Theo. S-s-sex. . .”

“Hey, Janet?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Come here,” Odette said, voice small.

The blonde padded to the corner of the room between her dresser and the sliding entrance to her walk-in closet. She could feel Janet’s eyes tickling the back of her neck, but didn’t stop because she had a hard time explaining what was motivating her actions.

It was a feeling. An instinct. Words escaped her as they often did, but she needed this.

Janet obediently stood. As soon as she did, she gasped and grabbed hold of her boobs. She hadn’t stopped them before they could give an energetic, bouncy show for the audience of two, though. She discovered that she’d been making more and more milk and growing in corresponding size while she flubbed over the same word for a countable number of seconds.

Heat came to her cheeks. “I didn’t know I’d gotten so big. Uh, Odette? I-I need to use your bathroom. I—. . .”

“No no. Come here first,” Odette said, fitting herself cozily into the tiny nook. She shimmied her shoulders to sell the snugness—despite it merely being a corner.

Janet glanced toward the bathroom briefly before approaching Odette. She stopped a full three feet away from Odette. She paused, took another step. Two feet. Stalled.

Odette stuck out her tongue and curled her finger in a come hither motion. Janet shuffled an extra few inches, still unsure, still twitching her head toward the bathroom.

Janet held her breasts with one hand and avoided eye contact like she’d done something wrong.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to bite or anything. This just. . . It feels right, okay? Come closer,” Odette said, offering her outstretched arms.

Blush glowing harshly, Janet scootched forward another inch. Then, another. Odette dipped her chin, her eyes an inviting amber hue when she wasn’t batting her eyelashes innocently. She lured Janet in, closer and closer.

The shapes of multicolored light conformed to Janet’s body beautifully. Each of her breasts jutted with purple-pink spotlight from above and huge, shady triangles beneath. Their size made her sweater dress ride up, exposing even more of her slender legs, teasing at the idea of her wide hips and round backside.

It was all Odette could do to be patient until. . . she sprang into action.

“H-Hey! Waaah! Oh-dette!” Janet yelped, saying Odette’s name in two, accusatory halves.

Odette’s focus narrowed. She tossed one of Janet’s arms to her side, then the other. In the same motion, her arms hooked around Janet’s back and flexed, pulling her taller friend into an embrace. Like the one at the door earlier, it was spontaneous and full-frontal, Odette flexing every muscle in her arms to bring her best buddy flush to her own body.

Without the defense of extra limbs, their chests surged to fill the shrinking space between them, pushing into one another like balloons.

Odette was so sensitive that she could feel the act in slow motion. The sensitivity of her full breasts betrayed every detail: the fabric of Janet’s dress through the thin material of Odette’s shirt followed immediately by a whisper of warmth. That whisper was the resistance of Janet’s breasts, which were so impossibly soft that ramming them was like pushing against a cloud. They yielded and conformed, wrapping Odette’s fuller, denser pair in an embrace.

Their heat bore welcomed from above, a coaxing pull that Odette thrust herself wholly into. She was still larger than Janet despite her being a few inches shorter, so her L cup boobies started at Janet’s stomach and rolled upward, pushing into the underside of Janet’s shelf of softness, chasing the spread of soft, pillowy warmth. The result lifted Janet’s dress higher, revealing full thighs wrapped in wrinkled leggings and the intimation of a booty that would have rivalled Pari’s.

Which meant admirably rotund.

The tingles surged. Hard. Odette winced momentarily but muscled through. She even had the forethought to lock her arms around Janet’s waist, securing the two of them, breast to breast. Janet snapped her head backward, hoping her body would follow.

It did not.

Instead, her tits rose and smooshed into Odette’s cheek, blinding the blonde in one eye. She was trapped.

“Odette!” Janet said, followed it with a string of Japanese that had not been part of their impromptu lessons. “Th-That’s! I’m—. . .”

The blonde didn’t speak, though she did groan with effort. She pressed on, pushing her tits higher and higher.

Just a little more. . . A few more inches.

Their titanic flesh cuddled together, their motion like slipping tectonic plates made of memory foam. Each jiggle was a little pillow fight. Odette’s immensities were more than a shelf for Janet’s decorations to be featured on. Odette’s breasts were a full-on stage, the center of focus for an audience of two or two thousand. They supported Janet’s growing, weighty cups, the likes of which could be confused as kin to the roundest and bounciest of athletic gear.

Apart, they were dazzling. Together, their shared fleshiness, emphasized by clothing and groaning, and the subtle churning of thick, nectarous cream, was an unreproducible, multi-million dollar production, a child of nature, luck, and the most blessed of circumstances.

Which begged the question of why Janet still needed convincing to just enjoy it.

“O-Odette—. . . What are you—. . .” Janet stammered.

Odette did her best to put her friend at ease. She didn’t have the words, but she could see no end to the jostling and squirming unless she said something.

“So, you were sorta right before, about my squeezing? It’s not just because it helps me think. My boobies do tingle when they grow—like, they need something to touch them. And when I saw that you were growing too and that you looked a little antsy,” Odette said, realizing that she was making no sense when Janet’s brow sank toward her eyes. “I thought that if we hugged each other, we’d get the boob touching we need.”

“I understand, but couldn’t we just milk ourselves instead—. . .”

“I also needed to interrogate you and bear hugging you was the only way I could think of to keep you in one place long enough.”

“Huh?”

Since gesturing to a bear hug while bear hugging someone was difficult, Odette bobbed on her toes so that her breasts gave a few soft bounces. She felt the milk in her tits shifting, a barely-there noise of liquid emanating from each gourd.

The weight of the act carried over to Janet who had become entirely rigid besides the gelatin-like wiggles in her plump, attractive breasts. She wasn’t still trying to escape, though. Her lips thinned, as if thoughtfully concluding that Odette had met a need she hadn’t known she needed, despite the ominous ring of the word “interrogation”.

“I-I don’t know about this,” Janet muttered. She glanced away from Odette, but beside the two was a mirror that reflected their cuddly sweetness. After seeing her reflection, Janet looked down into Odette’s amber eyes. “This is. . . W-We aren’t—. . .”

Odette kept bobbing up and down on her toes. In fact, she strengthened her bouncing and squeezed Janet tighter, her legs controlling a strong upward vaulting that made their enormous, creamy mammaries wobble into one another. The edge of tension left Janet’s face as her objections died on her lips. She squirmed a little, but no longer writhed for escape.

“Mmmh. See, isn’t that better?” Odette nodded, flashing a broad, toothy smile. “I can still feel you filling up against me, but we can get you milked after you give me the truth.”

“The truth—. . . Mmmh! Ngh! That’s—. . .”

The bouncing continued, amplifying. Odette’s larger boulders led in a spree of trampolining, her flesh clapping at Janet’s overrippened melons from below. Janet’s matched in wobbling splendor. In spite of her stillness, Janet’s tits continued growing, filling, and stuffing themselves with milk production, causing them to thrust forward, claiming the tops of Odette’s inflating buoys like the prized real estate they were.

And the tighter Odette squeezed, the faster Janet seemed to grow.

“O-Okay! I’ll talk. J-Just d-don’t. . . Your nipples are hard, and—. . .”

“What’s going on with Theo? Be as clear and direct as you can,” Odette said, loosening her grip on Janet. “Wow, this feels like one of those detective games.”

“D-Detective games?”

“Like Fenix White: Intrepid Interrogator? Those games are good.”

“I’ve never played games like that before—Mmmhah! Kyah!”

“Objection! You have to play with me later then, okay?” Odette giggled. It was fun thinking about playing with Janet, showing her games besides ForeverAge 2.

“Sure,” Janet giggled, her unease vanishing at the premise of the two spending time together.

That feeling of fun lengthened, extending into a tickle of warmth and increased tautness as Odette felt resistance against her hug. Janet was being pushed further and further away. Odette’s sensitive titties betrayed every fluffy detail of plumping flesh and she beheld her cuddle buddy’s improving rack pushing toward her. She had front row seats to the spectacle.

But Janet’s whimpering brought Odette back to the interrogation.

“Okay, Janet. Spill it. What are you keeping from me? This all started after you asked if I had romantic feelings for Theo.”

“I just wanted to know. I was curious and—. . . Eep! Mmmh!”

Odette squeezed Janet, rocking the two of them back and forth. The flesh pushed higher and higher, Janet’s jugs filling with even more milk. She couldn’t yet rival Odette, but the plumpness of her mounds was more than evident.

“If you don’t tell me, I’m not letting you go,” Odette teased. She pressed her chin into their bulging flesh, signaling that she could stay right where they were for as long as it took.

They were on a clock, though. Janet’s squirming and twitching proved just how aware of her size and inflation she was. Her tits were growing and growing. She hadn’t mentioned the tingling, but Odette knew that it always got worse and worse the bigger she got. It was milk’s way of asking to come out.

Janet’s milk must have been begging. Her discomfort was evidence of her need to lactate.

“Fine! Okay, umm. So, I-I didn’t hear this from Theo, exactly. He likes to talk to Amanda. . .”

Odette nodded, her chin still tucked into their kissing canyon of cleavage. “Amanda gives the best advice, that’s why. She’s really responsible.”

“But Amanda, she. . . she was talking to me about Theo and we think that h-he might possibly—”

Odette squashed herself closer. “Spit it out, Janet.”

“S-Something else is about to come out!”

“Oops! Sorry. I got a little excited there. . .”

Odette relaxed, drawing herself back. Their combined titty flesh lowered between them, though not by much. Both girls had inflated several cup sizes in a matter of minutes from the excessive physical contact. Even with Odette’s arms draped loosely at Janet’s waist, the two had boobs that spanned the gap between them—Janet’s the shape of watermelons and Odette’s the size of beach balls.

Odette looked up from the expanse of flesh. She’d inspected the two of them for leakage and found none, but lingered for a while in appreciation. Their boobs looked. . . very nice together. Pleasing to the eye. Impressively plump. Softly, gently curving. Full of milk and gurgling with the production of such.

It would take quite a while to get them both milked down at this rate. . .

Janet sighed. “Theo. . . likes you, Odette.”

Odette’s arms sagged. She felt the swoop of Janet’s lower back and the rise of a plump, round softness that immediately drew her fingers. “I. . . like Theo, too—”

“Nuh-uh. He likes you. Like-like. Romantically, like I said before.”

Odette, suddenly and fully, felt inadequate. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I do now that Theo likes me?” Odette asked. “I had a clue, but to hear it so straight like that. . .”

Janet was uncomfortable but became serious for her friend. “I’m not sure. How do you feel right now?”

“Like I should ask Pari what to do. She’s sick, though.”

“But how does learning about Theo’s feelings make you feel?”

Odette’s hands dripped down, scooping unintentionally. Janet jolted forward with an “Eep!” from the soft cupping of her butt and thrust out a hand to keep the two from crashing backward into the wall. Her arms clapped against the wall with her blonde harasser's disgruntled face in-between. It looked like Janet was about to scold Odette for the forward move, but the offense drained from her face at Odette’s misery.

“I’m not good at romance. I’m just not. But I know it’s important—to everyone, it seems like. I don’t want to mess things up for Theo, and I just know I’ll accidentally do or say something awful,” Odette muttered.

“Like grabbing his butt to momentarily resolve the onset of a negative emotion?”

“Yea. Like that.”

“Oh, Odette. . .” Janet breathed. “Something tells me that you wouldn't have that issue with Theo.”

She sounded a little proud of that fact.

Odette smelled the coolness of mint. It stilled some edge of her trembling awkwardness, but not the whole piece of it. “I don’t know if I love Theo, but I don’t want to hurt him. I really, really care about him, Janet.”

“I know you do. We all do.” Janet sighed. “And that’s why I don’t think you have to worry about doing something wrong with him.”

“But he’s upset right now, isn’t he? You said he’d been upset lately.”

“He’s been in his own head quite a bit, yea.”

“Should I try to be closer to him? If he has those feelings, then he would like it if I. . . Janet? What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

But she was definitely not doing “nothing”. The moment Odette mentioned acknowledging Theo’s feelings, Janet leaned back into Odette’s hands. The blonde could feel the weight of firmness in her fingers and instantly felt a rush of heat swelling up from her center and into her breasts, causing them to shift pleasantly. Her skin was pulled tighter and tighter as a quick surge of creamy production caused her breasts to grow, Janet’s full, moonish booty being the catalyst for the rapid-onset expansion.

The increased pressure within Odette’s boobs caused a hydrant of tingling to unleash within her. Odette pushed closer into Janet’s hanging globes, needing the sense of something soft to press against.

“Ngh! Odette!” Janet hissed.

“You did that, not me!” Odette hissed back.

“W-Well, I didn’t like the idea of you getting closer to Theo!”

“You didn’t?”

Janet fumbled. “Uh, I mean, you shouldn’t get closer to him j-just to make him feel better. Yea, that’s what I meant. I think that would make him feel worse—especially if he found out the reason why you started getting closer.”

“Ugh! See? Romance is too complicated! Why can’t we all just be friends?”

Janet muttered something—more Japanese words they hadn’t gotten to.

“What?” Odette asked, requesting clarification.

“I-I can’t hold on much longer. N-Not like this.”

Not with Odette’s greedy fingers curling into her smooth leggings. Not with their titties filling with milky goodness in a rush as they pressed into one another. Not with their faces so close or with the room so dark.

Not while talking about how much Theo liked Odette.

“Oh! Right, sorry. You gave me everything I wanted,” Odette said, releasing Janet from the hug. Without holding her steady, the force of their springy breasts sent Janet stumbling back a few steps. Odette’s braless gazongas sloshed defiantly, wobbling like mad once freed from the oppression of Janet’s weighty melons from above. “For now, we should probably deal with the more pressing problems.”

Janet, happily freed, brought her hands up to cover herself. She was immense in size, having doubled—possibly tripled—in forward projection from when she’d entered the house. Shoulders hunched some at the pull of her melons, she used her hands to cover the points farthest from her body: the mounds of her areola. Each one filled the palm of her hands. She was notably cautious when handling them.

“Can I use your bathroom now?” Janet asked, coyness overcome by shrill desperation.

Odette nodded enthusiastically. Then, after thinking about it, she began to peel away her own clothes. She noted that Janet squirmed in spite of them no longer being in an embrace and decided to explain herself.

“We both need to milk ourselves, right? Let’s do it together. It’ll be fun—we haven’t done it together in a long time.”

“You want me to d-do it with you? I-In the bathroom? Together—. . .”

Odette continued stripping while Janet elaborately described the request.

She slipped her overalls off her body with minimal effort, but got a fight out of the shirt she’d been wearing all morning. It didn’t seem to want to get over her expanded boobies.

That morning, when she’d talked to Pari about preparing lunch, she was already in need of a milking. Then, when she took Janet aside to talk, she felt the tingles of needing to be milked but had put it off due to the adequate amount of space in her shirt.

But after so much physical contact—bouncing and squeezing and rubbing—she knew she needed to make way to a proper place of milking as quickly as she could. It was urgent now—more imminent than usual, and just beginning to cross into the territory of uncontrollable leakage.

For Odette, that territory was a projection that counted better in feet than in inches; a size that warmed the lowest part of her tummy with the soft, fulsome flesh of her cream-crowded melons. The space that had remained in her top before Janet’s interrogation had vanished. That same shirt was a tent now, though it was more like fitting too small a tarp over too large a boulder: comically useless. Lines of tension fled away from the furthest reach of her awning of taut flesh. She could even feel the coolness of an opening underneath as there was no fabric to cover her underboob with how her tatas pushed from her frame.

“This. . . might be a problem,” Odette stated, matter-of-fact.

“I-It’s really tight. Do you need scissors?”

“Nah. I don’t want to cut another one.”

“Another one?”

“It would be the third one this month,” Odette said, her hands in fists at the tight fabric. She yanked weakly at the hem of the shirt. It didn’t budge. “Don’t tell Pari. She’d be mad.”

“Oh. . .”

Options limited, Odette pulled and stretched her shirt over and around her titties. It was agonizingly slow going. Each time she’d pull, she’d hear the sound of fabric stretching and creaking under the weight of her growing globes. However, if she went too slowly, her own continued production would continuously inflate her chest. She was on a clock. And yet, she needed to save this shirt as best she could.

Janet fretted, tiptoeing around Odette’s swelling mammaries, making worried noises as she held her own swelling boobs in her arms.

The two were so caught up in this that they didn’t hear the footsteps outside the door, nor the turning of the handle.

They turned only when they saw the glaring light from outside and winced when hallway light infiltrated Odette’s cave of a room.

A medium-height silhouette with long hair filled the door. Amanda’s voice descended on the two.

“Hey, which one of you guys has a license? I need somebody to make a run to the store and. . .” Amanda trailed as the scene unfolded before her. “D-Do you guys have bigger boobs? Am I. . .”

Odette groaned. “I told you we’d be back soon. Why’d you come up here?”

“‘Soon’ was half an hour ago. Wait, don’t change the subject! Odette! Holy cow!”

Odette sighed. Amanda wasn’t supposed to know—nobody except Janet and Pari were supposed to know.

Nothing was going as it should.

And as crappy as it was, Odette couldn’t help but smile. “Guess you were going to find out eventually. Come on in.”

Amanda blinked and started into the room, visibly tense, eyes wide.

“C-Close the door, please,” Janet spoke up. “And make sure to lock it. . . like I failed to do.”

Amanda did as she was told, and once the three were alone, Odette began to explain. . .

“I only have my permit because you can get that online. I don’t have a license because cars are screaming metal death traps and I never, ever want to drive one.”

“Seriously?” asked Janet.

“Oh, absolutely,” replied Odette.

“Who cares about your permit when you both have balloon boobs?!” Amanda shrieked. “You both seem okay, but we should go to a hospital, right? To be safe?”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” said Odette. This was followed by a low gurgle and the sound of tiny strands of fabric being torn asunder. A sharp dip appeared at the front of Odette’s shirt, not yet a complete failure but a serious blow to the top’s integrity. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Then can we please address it before my liquified brain starts dripping out of my nose? I wouldn’t want to accidentally short circuit the gorgeous strip lights you have going on in here.” Amanda asked, casually and sincerely baffled.

Odette giggled. “Sure.”