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The Pump by Douglas Freese
Betty bounced her newborn son in her lap as she waited for her husband to exit the lab. Her car stereo tuned to the local classical station, she took Timmy's pacifier from his limp mouth quietly so as to not wake him up. Gently, she placed him in the seat next to her and sat back in exhaustion. In the rear view mirror, a mid 20's woman with short black hair and bags under her eyes stared back at her.
"I need some sleep," she moaned. "No, scratch that. I need some good sex, then a hot bath, then I need some sleep."
Gently she laid her head back against the head rest. BAM! A rap came at the window! Betty screamed and Timmy jump-started into scream mode as well. Thomas rescinded his scary face and quickly opened the door.
"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean..." Thomas babbled.
"Damn it Thomas, I'd just gotten him to be quiet," Betty snapped, not mentioning her own heart was beating quickly. She bundled up Timmy and exited the car. As she walked to the other side, she lightly bounced to soothe Timmy. Thomas watched tiredly as she moved, admiring her 5'2" 38-22-34 frame as she entered the other side. She then rubbed his eyes and slid behind the drivers seat, placing a package in the back seat.
On the drive back to the farm, Thomas continued to see the image of his wife's frame bob around in his head. He slyly moved his right hand onto her thigh and began slowly massaging her leg. Betty smiled for a bit, but then Timmy burped up a surprise for her shoulder, killing any mood that might have come from his advances. Frustration set in and Thomas rocketed his hand back to the steering wheel, setting his eyes firmly in the road. Betty, cleaning herself, realized what he was thinking.
"It's only gonna be like this for..." Betty started
"Ever. Forever Betty. I'm not saying I don't love Timmy. You know I do. But I love you more then anything and for the past two months I've not been able to be with you more then ten minutes. Can't we get a sitter for this weekend, something?" Thomas said.
"We've been through this. You know how I feel about letting Timmy in contact with strangers. I want him to bond to us as his natural parents, not some pimply, swearing teenager," Betty lectured.
"He'll never know the difference! He's two months old! Hell, you can't even breast feed him. You think that's gonna screw him up too? Wait....I'm..." Thomas stopped himself, knowing he'd crossed the line. He promptly pulled the car over, turning her bowed head toward him.
"I didn't mean that. I know it's not your fault," Thomas said calmly, rubbing her hands.
"Thomas, you don't have to explain. I know," Betty uttered half-heartily. She smiled slightly. Thomas tried to give her a quick kiss, but his chin bopped the top of Timmy's head, starting up his siren all over again. He slumped back into his seat, maneuvering the car back onto the country road.
Back at their farm, Thomas was preparing himself and Betty a midnight snack. Betty meandered down the stairs in her maternity outfit, a towel draped over one shoulder and a stuffed toy over the other.
"He's down," she grunted as she slumped into a chair.
"Want a sandwich?" Thomas asked quietly, still trying to gage the damage done by his earlier remarks.
"Sandwich? No. I want a vacation with a side order of sex. Problem is, I'm on this diet, see? I have to lose my will to live and all my sex drive. Then I might be able to fit into this tiny little outfit you'd like. It's called parenthood," she snapped.
"It's got pickles," Thomas replied.
"It better," Betty grumbled as she snatched it from his hands. Thomas looked at his beaten down wife and considered hugging her, but in the mood she was in, he was fearful she might try to take out his heart from the other side. He stood to leave.
"Diaper bin needs tending to. EPA choppers are starting to hover over the nursery," Betty reminded him.
"I'll do it," Thomas sighed as he headed up the stairs.
"Mind the little mishap placed strategically inside the room," Betty whispered toward the stairs. She propped herself up and headed to the fridge. Various leftovers from her pregnancy assaulted her nostrils, reminding her of yet another task to perform. She forced open her squinting eyes and grabbed a bottle of Evian from the top shelf. Normally, she didn't drink Thomas's 'yuppie water,' but it seemed to be the only thing in the fridge not covered with a inch of fuzz. She took a big swig, then ran the tap water into the bottle, resealing it and placing it back inside the fridge.
In the bathroom, Betty removed her breast pump and began her nightly workout to extract milk from herself. In the last week of so, she had started to show signs of producing milk, but last night nothing has happened. After five minutes of alternating breasts, she came up dry again. Tears of frustration began to well in her eyes. She looked in the mirror at this contraption coupled to her chest, trying to urge on something mother nature should have been doing all along. Tired of the disappointment, she ceased pumping, placing the pump on the edge of the counter. Her state of being prevailing, the pump quickly found gravity and fell to the ground before she could react. Mindful not to step on the broken glass, Betty seemed not to care as she shepherded the fragments of her failure into the garbage.
The next day came. During the late evening, Thomas came home from town, where he'd been visiting the lab again. Behind him was a young boy in a truck. The two men entered the kitchen.
"Betty, my dear. Get your stomping clothes on. We're going dancing and funnin," exclaimed Thomas. "This here's Robert Hopkins, Bruce's young'n. He's brought up Bruce's three other boys, so we figured he could take care of Timmy for one night."
Betty's eyes widened with expectation. Without hesitation, she bolted upstairs and slipped into her red dancing dress. While lacing up the bodice, she noticed that it was a bit snug in the chest area, but figured it was due to the baby and thought nothing of it. The strings laced up quickly, revealing only a little bit of her cleavage when she breathed in. She packed up an overnight bag and zoomed down the steps.
Robert and Thomas were just stepping into the living room, cold sodas in hand. Betty left a note of where things were and a time schedule for Robert. She looked in the fridge to make sure she'd not forgotten anything. Milk and Thomas's water were the only things left in the fridge to drink, but other than that the fridge was stocked. Thirsty, she took the water bottle and downed a 1/3 of it before refilling it and replacing it. She grinned evily, knowing Thomas would kill her for putting tap water in his bottle.
The couple left and headed to the local stomp-and-romp, Stinkies. A local band was playing, and the pair jumped eagerly onto the dance floor to work of some aggression. As they danced, Betty winced periodically as Thomas bumped into her chest. She was particularly sensitive this evening, but decided not to let it effect her one night out. For two straight hours they danced, Betty getting concerned about the increasing amount of pain she was feeling in her bosom. She finally excused herself to the powder room, where she entered a stall and closed the door behind her.
Looking down, she saw that the space between her strings had worked itself open quiet a bit, revealing a nice amount of cleavage. she even seemed to be bulging out the top of the dress a bit. Thinking that her dress had just gotten tighter then she'd realized, she loosed the strings a bit. After making sure the fabric covered what it was supposed to, she sauntered out from the stall. While washing her hands, she looked in the mirror. Her brow furrowed as she studied her bust line. It looked bigger. She squeezed her left breast and winced in pain. Her breasts were tender.
Not knowing what to make of all this, she returned to the dance floor. Thomas could see that something was wrong and the pair immediately walked outside.
"I'm not feeling too well, Thomas. I think we should go home," Betty confessed.
"You don't think you can make it to Minier's Inn? It's only 50 miles away. It will take us that long to get home, and I booked that room two days ago. At least you can get a nice sleep," Thomas persuaded.
Betty gave in and the two headed to the inn. During the car trip, Betty found herself adjusting her dress to relieve some of the pressure she was feeling in her chest. Thomas noticed and asked what was ailing her, but she just smiled and told him nothing.
The inn was in a secluded spot in the woods, made up of separate cabins. A kindly old man gave them the key to their place, chatting about how slow business was with a fair some 40 miles away taking all his customers. Thomas and Betty entered their room, and Thomas gallantly ushered Betty in by carrying her. He looked down at her in his arms and nearly dropped her in shock.
"Betty! Your breasts are bigger!" Thomas yelped.
Betty examined herself. Indeed, it did look as if her chest was much bigger. The strings were straining in their loops, but not enough to keep the fabric together. A good portion of her cleavage was showing through, as well as flowing over the lip of the dress. Thomas set her down and she straightened up. Her bust line was noticeably larger, filling out to about 42 inches.
"They are so sensitive, Thomas. And I can feel a pressure inside them I've never felt before. Do you think I'm sick or something?" Betty asked.
"I dunno. You think you need a doctor?"
"Not really. I just need to sit down for a minute or two," Betty sighed. She loosened her top so her breasts could move freely inside her dress. Thomas began to pace back and forth, not knowing what to think of the situation. Betty decided to take a nice warm bath and try and relax. Despite the recent development, she felt the need to take it easy. This was her first night out in two months. No mystery breasts were going to spoil it.
As she sat in the tub, she imagined herself floating in the clouds. Beneath her the land was swimming by, and in front of her was a air balloon. As she watched it, the balloon began to grow. Just then, a knock at the door woke her from her dream.
"You OK in there? It's been an hour," Thomas asked.
"Just fell asleep, honey. I'm OK..." Betty stopped. Her eyes were white with surprise to see that her chest had grown considerably. As she stood, the mirror showed a gorgeous woman with a wet 50 inch bustline. Unsupported by water, the weight of her breasts became evident, as did the tightness of her skin. She doubled up in the rush of pain, then stood upright again. Her bosom felt like it was full, pressure pushing against her skin. She put on her nightshirt, only to have it be too tight. Her breasts were squeezed tight in the Cubs nightshirt, forcing them to spread out more towards the side. Betty could feel the sides of her breasts when she put her arms to her sides. Something was not right here.
Walking slowly, she emerged from the bathroom. Thomas sputtered out his beer as he stared at his ballooning wife.
"Oh my God Betty! You're even bigger! What's happening?" Thomas choked.
"Thomas, they're inflating like balloons! I feel a shitload of pressure in my tits, and it's making me bigger all the time. We need to go to the hospital," Betty revealed.
Thomas stood to grab his coat. Betty reached above the closet shelf for her purse and was rewarded with a small ripping sound. A small tear had begun in the center of her shirt, exposing a little bit of her cleavage. The seams along the arms also tore a bit. Betty instinctively covered herself, pressing into her chest. To her surprise, a warm patch of liquid formed over her nipples.
"Thomas..." Betty squealed. Thomas looked. Betty pressed harder and the patch grew bigger. "They're giving milk! Oh, that feels good when I do that." Betty closed her eyes and squeezed her mams hard, but this time no milk came out. She did it again, and still nothing much but a dribble.
"We gotta get you to the hospital, honey," Thomas pleaded. Betty shook her head.
"You gotta suck me, Thomas. The pressure is getting worse, and I need relief now!" Betty moaned. She pushed Thomas's head into the fabric of her shirt, directing his mouth to her nipple. He began sucking her extended nipple through the fabric, and a small stream of milk began to flow into his mouth, straining through the shirt. Betty moaned as the touch of Thomas's hot mouth of her breast brought forth more milk from her bosom. Thomas worked for a half hour, alternating nipples. Tired, he stopped for a break. Betty didn't look any bigger, and the tear in her shirt had not gotten wider, but she still seemed pretty voluptuous.
"The pressure is less now, hon. Let's head for home first so I can get some clothes, OK?" Betty asked, sweat beading on her brow. Thomas agreed and they entered the car, speeding for home.
About 40 miles from home, the car was low on gas. Thomas pulled into the closest gas station, a full service one ran by a man and his son. The son shuffled out to the car and began filling the tank while Thomas ran inside to phone the doctor. Betty shifted in her seat, trying not to touch her breasts which were starting to feel tinglely.
Ryan Gottlieb, 15, moved from the tank of the car to the windshield. He got out his squeegee and began to slowly wash the glass. He looked in the window and saw Betty's full form examining herself in a compact mirror. Betty saw Ryan's attention and put away her mirror, grinning sheepishly. She partially crossed her arms so as to cover the small hole in the front of her shirt. Ryan's eyes grew wide at the sight of her great gazongas and he went even slower cleaning the windshield. Betty smiled at him, but the smile soon changed to concern as she felt a huge pressure build in her chest. Suddenly, a wave of pain snapped through her system and she arched her back.
Through the windshield, Ryan could see Betty's boobs grow rapidly, filling her nightshirt in moments. Betty shut her eyes and grit her teeth as her hyper-sensitive tits pressed tighter and tighter into her shirt. The tear in the front began to slowly and steadily rip wider and longer, Betty's knockers spilling out as they inflated. Sweat formed on her brow as she gripped the headrest behind her with both hands, panting heavily and moaning. Ryan grew a boner so fast it hurt as he watched Betty's basketball-sized tits billow from her body. And as fast as it started, it ended, with Betty giving a sigh of relief, making her huge breasts jiggle. They now were barely contained in her shirt, most of the soft mass squeezing out the middle. She gasped at the sight and covered herself, giving Ryan a scared and worried look. Ryan ran inside and soon afterward Thomas returned. He took one look at his overly-buxom wife and jumped into the car, almost tearing the gas hook out from his tank.
"What's happening?!?" Thomas cried.
"I...they just expanded. It felt like something exploded inside my boobs. They just hurt now, the pressure is there again," Betty panted. Her breasts were now down to her belly button, her left nipple protruding from the edge of the rip in the shirt. Thomas went 100 miles an hour on the way home, nearly hitting two cars along the way.
Inside, Betty walked fastly to the bathroom. After Thomas paid off Robert, he got her one of his oversized shirts to wear. In the bathroom, she recovered the breast pump from the cabinet. In a short minute, she had filled a liter bottle full of milk. As Thomas entered, he saw a relieved smile on his wife's face. She dumped it in the sink and began working on the other breast. Thomas tore the shirt from her body, admiring the new form she had grown. Reluctant to leave, Thomas helped Betty as she pumped her breasts of milk. After a good two hours, they had actually gotten Betty back down to a reasonable size. Too sore to continue, Betty stopped Thomas as he unloaded and tried to reattach for another load.
"They feel much better now, honey. I don't feel anymore pressure," Betty yawned.
"OK, I'll get the car started..." Thomas said.
"No, I'm tired. Let's go tomorrow," Betty yawned, half falling asleep in Thomas's arms.
Thomas got her into her sleeping gown and put her to sleep. She had a nice smile on her face as she immediately started to doze off. Thomas grabbed the phone and dialed up the hospital, asking for a doctor in the morning.
The next day, Thomas was sitting down in the kitchen, waiting for the doctor. Betty moved slowly into the kitchen, her eyes half open. Thomas scanned her figure, and it hadn't changed at all since he'd put her to bed.
"How you feeling hon?" Thomas asked, holding her hand.
"Thirsty. I need some pop." Betty said, smacking her lips.
"Just got some milk in there," Thomas said, opening the fridge.
"I'll just have some of the water if you don't mind," Betty said.
Thomas stood up as if jolted by electricity.
"Did you drink from my bottle in the last two days?" Thomas asked seriously.
"Just a bit...why?" Betty asked.
Thomas ignored her and grabbed the phone. He dialed up the lab he'd been visiting the past two days.
"My wife...she drank the medicine you gave me for my milking cows. Her chest area grew last night. We milked her down to size, but you have to help me. What should I do?" Thomas ranted.
Betty sat down slowly. He'd kept the medicine in the water bottle, figuring she'd never touch it. Since she didn't ask about taking some, he never had a chance to warn her. Her heart began to race, and then she began to feel that tinglely feeling in her tits again, only this time much stronger.
"Thomas....I'm going to blow up again!" Betty screamed, pushing her breasts into her as hard as she could. She could feel an electricity in her chest, building steadily. Thomas yelled the occurrence into the phone, asking frantically for help. Betty gritted her teeth, feeling her chest slightly swell a little as the pressure built.
"Are you sure? OK, we'll try it," Thomas said and dropped the phone. "Let's head out to the barn, Betty!"
"Thomas, I'm not going anywhere....uunnghhhh" Betty said as a wave of pressure grew more intense in her breasts. She was squeezing her tits as hard as she could, trying to surpress the increasing sensations. Thomas got behind his wife and began pushing her out the door and across the yard to the barn.
"It's too much...their going to explode!!!" Betty panted as she pressed her bouncing boobs into her body. Thomas continued to usher her as quick as he could toward the barn. 10 yards from the entrance, Betty stopped and turned around.
"My tits are going to pop!...this is too much. I can't stop it, Thomas! Help me!" Betty cried, her fingers digging into her bosom. Thomas stared amazed as his wife mashed her 46 inch chest inside her nightgown. Betty's mouth dropped open and she let out a cry of pain for a second, then her eyes lowered to her chest.
Slowly, Betty dropped her arms to her side. She moved her head side to side quickly, examining each breast. Nothing was happening outside yet, but something inside was.
"It's coming. Oh my god!" Betty whispered, her mouth forming a perfect O. She drew her shoulders back slowly, making the material from her nightgown draw slowly over her naked nipples. She almost looked as if she was wanting her boobs to grow again.
Thomas snapped out of his trance. He darted into the barn. As soon as he entered the barn, Betty's whole body shook. She moaned loudly and then gawked at her chest. Her breasts began to inflate rapidly, filling up her gown in nothing flat. They continued to blossom, raising the hem of her gown slowly as they heaved into the material. Betty clenched her fists and placed them on the side of her expanding mammeries. Her frilly gown hit its limit and began to rip at both nipples, her watermelon sized hooters blimping out the ripping holes.
Thomas exited the barn with a machine under his arm, stopping briefly to watch his wife's tits grow larger and larger.
"They're filling up so fast! I'm gonna pop! oooohhhh!" Betty moaned, kneeling on the ground under the weight of her beach ball-sized boobs. Thomas ran to her side and immediately started up the milking machine.
"My tits are enormous! The pressure...oh god! Their inflating faster!" Betty screamed, grabbing the sides of her massive flesh mounds. Blue veins began to show through on her tits as they increased their mass faster and faster. Betty's face began to grimace in pain. She was reaching her end.
"Faster, Thomas! I'm gonna pop! My boobs are blowing up too big! Oww...my tits!!" Betty gasped as her breasts grew to the ground, looking like two filled beanbags swelling from her now-tiny frame. Thomas fired up the machine and slammed two suckers to her large nipples.
Betty screamed in ecstasy as the machine began sucking milk from her nipples. Her growing breasts began to slow in growth, then slowly then began to shrink back in size. Thomas put the machine in fast gear and white liquid almost gushed into the milk barrel inside the barn. Betty writhed in pleasure as the machine tugged and sucked her grossly- endowed figure smaller and smaller. After 15 minutes, she was down to a paltry 52 inches, and the machine started to come up dry. Inside the barn, the milk container had flown over and a small lake of warm milk filled one corner.
"That felt good, actually," Betty said exhausted. Thomas covered her with his flannel shirt as the doctor pulled into the drive. Thomas explained what had happened just now. The doctor looked at the two, then scratched his head.
"Well, that potion shouldn't wear off for another week now. I can give you something to help stop your body from trying to reproduce the milk, but I'm afraid you will continue to grow a little bit until then. You'll probably end up in the 58 inch range when you're done," the doctor explained.
Betty thought, then saw the lump forming in Thomas's pants.
"I'll grow accustomed to it," Betty said.
FIN
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