After she finished cleaning her apartment (a much easier task than expected thanks to her new height, wingspan, and amount of arms and hands), Hillary tried fixing her crusted phones - to no avail.
Not wanting to leave the safety of her apartment, the girl just treated herself, her tired (but now pleased) brain, and her boosted appetite to a few French pastries, a sandwich or two, and a bottle of lemonade. Taking a break from her unforgiving job and college work, Hillary did what she hadn't done in a long time - plainly relaxing. Reclining on her bed, which her new muscular frame had made her too large for, she treated herself to a comedy film, watching silently as she wished for someone to talk to, or at least someone to talk to her . . .
Hillary did not mind "milking herself" again three and a half hours later as she awoke from her nap to find fully engorged breasts and dicknipples, swollen, heavy, and tight, dripping their signature cream.
Nor did she mind three and a half hours after that.
She began to worry on the third time though. Squirting her cream into her toilet, a small fear arose - would she have to drain her breasts so often?
This fear unfortunately proved itself true, as Hillary began to grapple with the frightening, but fortunately pleasurable, new state of her body. Her attempts to hold off on milking only lasted a half hour at the max - the back pain, swelling, and slightly painful "fullness" had to be satiated, not to mention the temporary exponentially increased libido she was hit with.
Discovering to her delight that her breasts filled up much slower when she slept, the young woman set schedules and kept track of her breasts' states as time passed for the next few weeks of unrest.
With enough food to last another year stored in her cupboards and closets, along with her rather delicious self-produce (Hillary often used her "cream", or her milk-semen mixture in her breasts, for baked goods, deserts, pastries, or smoothies), Hillary filled her days with housework and independent study, taking about 4-5 "milking sessions" a day.
Hillary. while thankful for her new body, became still more worried - she was an undeniable masculine freak. How could she live now. amongst both her family and the world, with such a form and "lactation" issues?
The daily treat soon lost its full edge. While they were welcome, always pleasurable (no pain arose) events that allowed for Hillary to gain a good deal of muscular bulk, Hillary disliked the restrictive schedules they imposed and the constant, but light, mental haze that "milking" had placed on her brain. Though only a few instances of forgetfulness and absentmindedness arose each week, this was still enough to irritate the young woman.
And so it was this way that Hillary lived for the four weeks of global unrest after the Fusion Wave -
Until she fell asleep right after dinner one night, having forgotten to drain her full upper four breasts before doing so.
She had slept for 10 hours before she woke up to the absurd weight, pleasure, and size of her slightly painful engorged breasts.
Her attempts to rectify this error were met with surprising failure when she discovered that her four udder-sized breasts were too large for her to grab her dicknipples' engorged tips.
Kneading her overfilled breasts was not an option - they were so full that doing so caused pain.
Neither was tugging her dicknipples' bases.
Not an owner of any sex toys, Hillary tried her best to rub-off her penises between the cushions of her couch, but failed after multiple attempts as well.
It became harder to walk as her breasts began to fill again with their cream, swelling and growing past what Hillary thought was possible.
"Groaning" as she made her way to the kitchen, her bottom two pairs of arms now devoted to supporting her ridiculously large breasts, Hillary sighed as she knew she needed help.
From outside.
And so, Hillary sighed, her stomach heaving as a slow gust of air blew out of her navel-mouth.
Dressed in modest baggy clothing, with a pair of oversized shoes on and a scarf around her face, Hillary looked around her body, her two facial penises swaying and smacking against each other under the scarf she was wearing, hardening slightly before going limp again.
Her lower two sets of arms supporting her four currently engorged breasts and their associated penises, Hillary closed her eyes and "grunted", face sweaty and red due to the angst, pain, and need for sex.
Batting away stray thoughts about the rationality of this decision, Hillary checked her pockets for the condoms and few dollars that she had packed just in case.
With her free hands she again reviewed the sign she was to tote:
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S'IL VOUS PLAÎT, AIDEZ-MOI À ME TRAITER - J'AI DE LA NOURRITURE ET DE L'EAU
(PLEASE HELP MILK ME - I HAVE FOOD AND WATER)
JE M'APPELLE HILLARY
(MY NAME IS HILLARY)
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Looking forward, she clutched the doorknob and turned it, not knowing quite what to expect -
As she stood ready to make A Most Humiliating Request.
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SOMEONE PLEASE CONTINUE THIS STORY