Cassidy gave one final look-over of her numerous assets. She couldn’t go to her company to fix this. If they fired her, they might remove her tits citing them as company property. Her best bet was to find a competitor, give them whatever she can, and have them reverse it, or at least give her a cushy job as a reward.
She shuffled back to her clothes, poorly donning her underwear and pants. The udder meant there was absolutely no hope of getting the zipper up, but as long as she walked slowly, she at least wouldn’t attract as much attention from behind. She grabbed a pair of scissors from a nearby surgical table, then cut a line down the front of her shirt to make it into a “jacket” so she could at least put it on. That handled the back, but what about the front?
She spied a few cardboard boxes used as impromptu storage of various implements. She spilled out the contents of two of them, then carefully slid one over her udder. It was a tight fit and the box was slightly too shallow, but this could work. She cut off the flaps to draw less attention, and repeated the process with a second box intended for her breasts. She grabbed the underside of the box containing her udder, then fake-hoisted the boxes to look like she was carrying them.
“I hope this is good enough.”
She carefully left the lab, and made a beeline through the corridors toward the parking lot. However, fatigue and the abnormal weight made her much slower than she’d desired. Worse yet, her upper box kept sliding forward, threatening to expose her quad-breasts.
After much longer than she’d wanted, she finally got out of the mag-locked section of the facility, and to the front desk. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hey Cassidy.” A voice from her left caused her blood to run cold.
Perhaps too quickly, she turned her head to him. “H-Hey John.” Of course it was John. He was the most anal of the security guards. “Got a heavy load so I can’t t-”
“What’s in the boxes?” He started to move closer to Cassidy, causing her to enter a cold sweat.
“Just j-junk. Researchers got some new tools, told me to put the old stuff in the dumpster as I close up.” He continued to get closer, so she started to turn away. She couldn’t let him see the torn shirt or that she was connected to these boxes. She put on a strong face. “Assholes, right? They could’ve done this any other time but they stuck it on the technician to do it for ‘em.”
John paused, clearly thinking. “Yeah. You go do that. If I hear from the researchers that there’s anything missing, your name is going to be the first on the list. Be careful when moving those around. Looks heavy.” He turned away and began to patrol elsewhere.
With her heart no longer in her throat, Cassidy practically dashed to her car. She shed the boxes, stuffed them in the back seat, and squeezed herself into the front. Unfortunately, her steering wheel was clogged with tits and she could barely see the windshield. Moving her seat back as far as possible and shoving her breasts painfully downward, she could at least move the wheel and see the road.
The ride back to her home was filled with accidentally bumping into herself, and her teats getting flicked by the wheel with every turn. She was sure someone noticed the topless driver with unrealistically-massive tits, but that was just her reality at this point. She practically dove into her house with one goal in mind: find someone that can help.
After some intense searching, she found a name: Greene Fields Incorporated. It apparently was in the same field as enhancement of farm animals, with the stated goal of minimizing the amount of animals needed. It didn’t mention anything about human testing, but it did mention using advanced technology to modify cattle. The site mentioned Future Farms by name, which is what made it so promising. Apparently, they were founded by someone that had worked for Future Farms. Its building was even in the same area.
After finding the contact information, she made the call.
The ringing ended, and a female voice spoke up. “Hello?”
“Hi, I’d like to, uh, help with Greene Fields’ research and development?”
There was a pause. “Sorry?”
“I’m, uh, from Future Farms and I… Have some of their technology that I can share?”
Another pregnant pause. “Let me contact my superiors.”
Cassidy was half-panicking. What if they say no? What if they don’t consider her tits technology. The phone was still playing its elevator music, so she tried to distract herself. Looking down at her udder, she lightly slapped it to make it jiggle. It sloshed.
She got up. It already had milk? She moved to her restroom and grabbed a teat. She’d better get good at this, because Lord knows she’d need to do it often if this didn’t go through. Heck, if they scheduled her a week from now, she’d still have to get good at it.
After some testing pulls and squeezes, she felt a tiny amount of fluid pool into the teat. Squeezing again caused a squirt of milk. It wasn’t as exciting as she thought it’d be, but then again, she heard cows only really care about it when they were full, which she certainly wasn’t.
Before she could start on any others, the music ended and a new, male voice was on the phone. “Hello, you said you’d like to contribute to our R&D? And you have something from Future Farms?”
“Yes, I-”
The man interrupted. “How soon can you schedule your visit?”
He made it sound so urgent. “How about tonight?” She said half-jokingly.
“Great. Your area code says you’re from around here. How long will it take you to get here?”
She wasn’t serious, but if they actually could help her immediately, she’d never have to deal with milking herself. It’s a good thing she’d already checked the address. “About an hour.”
“I’ll personally see you then. We can discuss payment after we see what you’ve got.”