Researcher Juneau was violating every protocol known to the Foundation. Dimly, she wondered if she should make people think 686 was memetic or something to save her if she got caught. She’d been fairly chesty to begin with, and her pregnancy had covered the sudden, induced growth when she’d snuck a sample of 686 out of the lab. She was sure that some of the other researchers at least casually suspected it, but nobody wanted to risk being the guy who accused the lab boss of sneaking out samples of an anomalous substance just because she had huge boobs.
686 was everything she’d dreamed and fantasized about as a teenager made flesh. Huge, pendulous, soft, but round and full breasts. Thick, sensitive, suckable nipples. Milk, almost half a gallon per day, every day, that felt like a dream to let down. She suckled on her own breasts, enjoying the sensation as she flicked her tongue over her rock-hard nips.
Of course, she couldn’t ever miss a day, or she’d start to mutate. She’d seen some of the D-class that had been tested, how they grew and grew until their breasts became an immense, leaking udder. They didn’t seem unhappy though, more docile than anything else.
It was a tempting prospect to let herself fill up extra full, but she decided to keep it simple and milk herself twice a day, every day. Once she retired, then she could really let herself go, and if the Foundation cottoned on, well, what were they going to do? Fire her?
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