Lucas continued to look at me as I stood near the milker. I knelt down to pick it up, causing my udder to lightly tap the ground. It was an array of four suction cups, each loosely tied to allow the user to individually attach cups to teats. The tubes convened at some sort of metal section, from which a larger tube connected it to the main storage. I brushed my hand over the turgid ball of flesh connected at my gut, trying to decide if I should really do this in front of Lucas. The sensation was dulled initially, but I had to swallow the orgasmic sensation I felt when my hand finally reached a teat.
"Lucas, how long does this normally take?"
He gave a confused look in return. "Uhh...3 minutes? You're pretty full, so maybe 5?"
I set the suction device down and stood back up. There was no way I'd demean myself for five solid minutes in front of my little brother. "I'll-uh-do it in a few. Got...Things, to do?" Before Lucas could object, I decided to try and distract him. "Hey Lucas, you like drawing, right?"
"Yeah!"
"Have you drawn me, yet?"
Lucas's eyes widened. "Oh no! I forgot to draw you!"
I internally gave a sigh of relief. "Hey, if you do draw me, can you try drawing me without my udder?"
"What?! But that's what makes you, you! Everyone recognizes you because of it!"
"I know, but..." I needed to think of a good reason that'd make him do it, and I hadn't. Maybe pity would work? "...Sometimes I think about what it would be like if I was like other people."
Based on Lucas's physical stature, it looked like that may have done it. "Okay..." He accompanied it with a sullen nod, keeping his eyes downward. Without a word, he turned and ran upstairs to where his crayons were.
I looked down at myself. I had an entire day-and-a-half until my parents got back, and that meant three milkings, easily. Maybe I could cheat it down to two, or even a single one, but this constant nagging pressure felt like it was going to drive me crazy. What's more, Lucas said something about it growing on its own. It sounded like a joke, but perhaps it wasn't.
I needed something to distract myself. Walking back inside, I decided to grab one of the discs Lucas had pointed out. He wanted me to eat three of these in a day, so I might as well get my morning one finished. It was shaped as a cookie, though it was larger than most cookies I'd had. The slightly-green patty was almost twice as thick as my thumb, and it had a surprising amount of heft to it.
I took a bite out of it, or tried to. This thing was inhumanly dense, and after forcing my teeth through it, a large chunk sat heavily in my mouth. The flavor was, admittedly, not too bad. It tasted pretty fatty, but there was also a distinct hint of vegetables of some kind. After a solid thirty seconds of trying to chew the chunk, I gave up and tried to swallow it. The lump slowly crawled down my throat, hitting my stomach. I need to eat three of these on top of my regular meals?
I decided to try chewing the next piece with some water, which was apparently how I should've started off. The water soaked into the chunk, causing it to break itself apart and become far easier to swallow. The taste was slightly worse, but it made putting it down much easier. As I finished the "snack," I began to realize this was likely some sort of nutrient supplement. I hadn't thought about it, but producing a bunch of milk would require my body to get those nutrients from somewhere, and it might start leeching from other parts of my body to meet milk requirements.
Thinking of what else I could do, I realized I hadn't taken a shower yet. I somewhat wanted to know what it would be like to clean myself with this giant milk-bag in tow, so I headed upstairs and started the water. Stripping down wasn't too difficult, since my pants were held almost entirely by the one-button strap and I couldn't wear underpants. Once the water was warm, I stepped into it.
The water pelted my udder, causing a rapid wave of what I could best describe as tickling. I quickly turned around so that it would hit my back instead, and began to wonder about my future, if this whole thing wasn't fixed. I didn't have school until after New Years, but I'd had plans to go out with my friends between now and then. Did this alternate world still have me with my same friends, or were there other ones? Was I now a shut-in, or bullied? I'd need to check my social media and phone contacts to get a better idea.
I washed my hair, the runoff still managing to tickle my udder as it flowed down my chest. When it came to the soap, I briefly considered not cleaning the udder at all. Then again, it was one of the more exposed parts of my body at this point, and if any part was going to unintentionally touch things, it'd be the sac I wasn't used to. Carefully, I glided the soap over my inhuman appendage. It dutifully notified me of every touch and press, but I persevered, lathering even the underside. I was surprised to learn that the feeling eventually dulled down after taunting the udder for long enough.
This gave me new hope. Maybe, after some time, I could immunize myself to the wild swings of sensation from this udder, if I ended up stuck this way. I prepared myself and turned around to let the shower rinse my udder. The tickling began, but as before, the sensation eventually dulled until it wasn't too different from any other part of my body. Once I'd finished washing, I was too brave and dried my udder the same as any other part of my body. The towel felt rough on the sensitive flesh, but I pushed through. It left my udder glowing a little red once I'd finished.
Once I got my clothes back on, Lucas was waiting for me in the hallway with a paper in-hand. Since my udder was still there, I suspected the picture didn't work, or he'd added an udder anyways. "Yeah, Lucas?"
"I hope you like it!" He turned the picture to me, and I had not been expecting its contents. There was still my stick figure, and it still had a pink circle at the crotch, but that was all that was similar. It had an arrow with 'you' pointed at the figure that represented me. Next to it was a smaller stick figure with overly long arms looped around my figure. It was about half my figure's size, with an arrow pointed to it labeling it as 'me.' Instead of my name at the bottom, the large black text said 'Don't be sad!' across the center.
However, the thing that punched me in the gut most was that I could see still-drying tears peppering the paper. I also realized now that he was silently sniffling while his face was hidden behind the paper. I felt terrible for trying to manipulate my brother in this way, and it had failed anyways. Trying to keep as stoic a face as possible, I rubbed his hair. "Thanks, you did a really good job. You made me feel better, and I'm sorry you heard me say that." Unless something else came up, I was pretty much stuck for the foreseeable future like this. Lucas turned around, but I called out. "Wait, Lucas. Can I keep your drawing in my room?"
Lucas smiled, and offered the drawing to me. After I took it, I pinned it to the wall between my bed and my desk. In the coming weeks, I'd probably need to get reminded to not be sad. I took a seat at my desk, trying to think of what I should do next. I still felt a bit squeamish about milking myself, and I honestly felt like I could survive ignoring my udder for now. It was surprising how much I was capable of eating and drinking without getting full. Between that and browsing the internet, I could probably make it through to dinner.