Eventually, the door opened and a group of 3 people in professional attire enter. The first was an older gentleman, The second was a well-kept redhead. Oddly enough, the last one was a full-anthro wolf fur, which made his crisp-black suit look even stranger. Furs rarely ever made it into the upper echelons of the business world, and ones that switched to furs tended to get demoted or laid off.
The old man spoke up first. “Hello, I’m Gary, the Chief Operations Officer of Future Farms. With me is Janet, our Head of R&D and the wolf is Johnny, a representative for our programming branch. We’ve recently learned of a flaw in our automatic update application method, and it may have inconvenienced or damaged you.” He nodded to the wolf fur.
Johnny stepped forward, his muzzle somehow displaying guilt across every inch of it. “So, what happened is that the updater was made by someone that hasn’t been with the company for a long time. It was legacy software that never failed so far, so no one bothered to look into exactly how it worked, and no tasks were made to check or update it. When we got the call about your overnight change, we checked and found out immediately. The hotfix is already live, but we’re really sorry for not-” Gary gave a sharp cough. “We, uh, have established a process of checking over all legacy code to find similar failures in the future.”
Janet raised a hand. “Have you been made aware of the potential additional changes you may face tonight?” You nod. “Then rest assured that whatever modifications occur, Future Farms will be there to ensure your needs are met, no matter what they are.”
You motion to the milk pump. “I can’t use the relief stations.”
She produces a plastic card from a pocket. “This is a bypass card. Have it on your person and the scanner will detect it and let you in no matter what. Please, do not create copies or give this to anyone else.”
You point to your chest. “These are now producing milk, too.”
She nods. “If you accept, we’ll send a specialist over to your home tomorrow morning with a range of equipment to measure your new production rate and milk quality. After we determine how much additional milk you’re making, we will formulate a specialized blend of food that will suppress your milk production to prevent adverse long-term health problems. For the duration of this problem, we will continue providing food necessities.”
Gary coughs again, causing Janet to defer to him. “I’m going to be direct with you. This project cost Future Farms a great deal, and while it’s been steadily increasing in profit, it’s still nowhere near the point of breaking even. If a story like this begins to circulate, there’s a real chance that the project is going to get killed to save face with the public. If you need it, we’ll provide it, as long as you sign a non-disclosure agreement.”
“But my coworkers and workplace already saw me as I was before?”
He sighed. “We could make a deal with your company for you to take an extended paid leave. Or, you could say that you got secondhand mods which caused the additions. Or, if you want to get surgical reductions and full-body fur dying, we’ll pay for that. You don’t need to decide now. As a further commitment to correcting this as best we could, we will provide a notarized document admitting fault.”
The deal sounded pretty good, your silence for an easy six or more months. Then again, you might go dull or crazy without work for that long of a time. Would lying really be that big of a problem? You don’t have much of a reputation, and if anything this mod has been the most interesting aspect about you at the workplace. Surgery was completely out, gene mods basically killed the profession and the only cosmetic surgeons you’ve heard about nowadays are the black market or back alley kind.
“I want to, but I’ll need to get a lawyer to look it over before signing anything.”
He nodded. “That’s reasonable. Would you mind if we still sent a specialist to provide a welfare check on you tomorrow? It’s at no cost and you won’t need to sign anything.”
“Uh, sure.” You exchange contact information with Gary, shook hands with Johnny and Janet, and they excused themselves from the room.
Moments later, the receptionist re-enters. “Is there anything else I can do to help you?”
“Yes, can you unhook me from this milker? I want to leave without making a mess.”
She facepalms. “Of course, right away.”
The rest of your day was almost like you were in a trance. You returned to the relief station for a shower, got in contact with a lawyer, who had you sign the documents after he posited a couple minor alterations, called in sick for tomorrow, wandered the city to get more used to the heft of your new tits, bought a breast pump to ease the process, got your evening milking session, headed back home, then spent a few hours cleaning the spilled milk as best as you could.
As you contemplated whether to use incense or deodorizers to better handle the smell, dread crept back into your mind as you realized it was time to sleep. Whatever was in you was programmed to perform a check-up, and who knows what it was going to find or try to do. Worse yet, who knows what your unstable genome might do in response to the intended changes.
Still, it was better to be asleep for this mess than experience it while awake. If it was bad enough, it’ll wake you up anyways. Sleeping in the “nude” was a little weird, but you didn’t want to wreck another shirt if you didn’t need to.