Trish entered her apartment feeling like she had to go to the bathroom in four of the wrong places. Her breasts were becoming painfully full.
She threw her purse on a table and pulled out the remote. Reversing the changes to her breasts was undoubtedly the easiest way out of this situation. As the pressure inside her chest grew, she forced herself to concentrate on calling up the cow menu once again and dialing the lactation setting all the way down to zero.
She turned the remote on herself and pressed the button. No zapping occurred. She turned it back around and read a flashing message on the LCD screen.
"Subject must remove contents of breasts before this change can proceed."
"Oh come on!" Trish shouted at the inanimate object. "You can bend reality but you can't empty my breasts?"
She didn't realize she was massaging her breasts until her fingers pinched a hardening nipple. She felt a small drizzle of milk spill onto her fingers.
"Woah!" she said faintly. It felt oddly pleasing. Her mood sank, however, when she realized what she needed to do.
She put down the remote and gruffly strode into the kitchen. Her hooves clacked as she positioned herself in front of the sink and bent over it. Trembling fingers gathered around the nipples of her lower pair of breasts.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said. Then she pinched and pulled both nipples. The resulting streams of milk shot into the sink and she gasped. It felt great, but the relief was minimal. She began pumping steadily, allowing jet after jet of milk to escape her full mammaries. Panting in satisfaction as she felt herself empty, she became even more aware of the increasing pain of her upper pair of breasts. She finished her lower breasts off as quickly as she could, then jumped right to the others.
Low moans escaped her lips. These were droning moans not like those let loose by sex, but deeper and more subtly satisfied. She didn't think of how closely they resembled the moos of a cow. All she could think of was the immense relief her breasts were feeling now that they were being emptied.
She knew it couldn't have taken that long, but the ritual seemed like an hour or more. Afterward she felt so good, she had to sit down. She grabbed a paper towel and blotted the milk smearing her fur, then went back into the living room to sit at the table with the remote. She didn't want to think too much about what she had just done, or how insanely satisfying it was to milk herself. Her nipples were a little sore, and her hands a little cramped, but it wasn't enough discomfort to drown out the relief at being milked.
But her smile turned downward when she realized that she was going to have to be milked again. And again. Probably four or more times a day, at the rate she was lactating. That was unacceptable.
"I think this will be my first and only experience with that," she said as she took up the remote and zapped herself. She didn't feel any different afterward, but knew that her breasts must have stopped producing milk. If they didn't...well, she'd find out soon enough.
"I wonder how Sam is doing right about now?" she thought to herself.