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The Pump
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The Pump
by Douglas Freese
*****
Betty bounced her newborn son in her lap as she waited
for her husband to exit the lab. Her car stereo tuned to
the local classical station, she took Timmy's pacifier from
his limp mouth quietly so as to not wake him up. Gently,
she placed him in the seat next to her and sat back in
exhaustion. In the rear view mirror, a mid 20's woman with
short black hair and bags under her eyes stared back at her.
"I need some sleep," she moaned. "No, scratch that. I
need some good sex, then a hot bath, then I need some
sleep."
Gently she laid her head back against the head rest.
BAM! A rap came at the window! Betty screamed and Timmy
jump-started into scream mode as well. Thomas rescinded his
scary face and quickly opened the door.
"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean..." Thomas
babbled.
"Damn it Thomas, I'd just gotten him to be quiet,"
Betty snapped, not mentioning her own heart was beating
quickly. She bundled up Timmy and exited the car. As she
walked to the other side, she lightly bounced to soothe
Timmy. Thomas watched tiredly as she moved, admiring her 5'2"
38-22-34 frame as she entered the other side. She then
rubbed his eyes and slid behind the drivers seat, placing a
package in the back seat.
On the drive back to the farm, Thomas continued to see
the image of his wife's frame bob around in his head. He
slyly moved his right hand onto her thigh and began slowly
massaging her leg. Betty smiled for a bit, but then Timmy
burped up a surprise for her shoulder, killing any mood that
might have come from his advances. Frustration set in and
Thomas rocketed his hand back to the steering wheel, setting
his eyes firmly in the road. Betty, cleaning herself,
realized what he was thinking.
"It's only gonna be like this for..." Betty started
"Ever. Forever Betty. I'm not saying I don't love
Timmy. You know I do. But I love you more then anything
and for the past two months I've not been able to be with
you more then ten minutes. Can't we get a sitter for this
weekend, something?" Thomas said.
"We've been through this. You know how I feel about
letting Timmy in contact with strangers. I want him to bond
to us as his natural parents, not some pimply, swearing
teenager," Betty lectured.
"He'll never know the difference! He's two months old!
Hell, you can't even breast feed him. You think that's
gonna screw him up too? Wait....I'm..." Thomas stopped
himself, knowing he'd crossed the line. He promptly pulled
the car over, turning her bowed head toward him.
"I didn't mean that. I know it's not your fault,"
Thomas said calmly, rubbing her hands.
"Thomas, you don't have to explain. I know," Betty
uttered half-heartily. She smiled slightly. Thomas tried
to give her a quick kiss, but his chin bopped the top of
Timmy's head, starting up his siren all over again. He
slumped back into his seat, maneuvering the car back onto
the country road.
Back at their farm, Thomas was preparing himself and
Betty a midnight snack. Betty meandered down the stairs in
her maternity outfit, a towel draped over one shoulder and a
stuffed toy over the other.
"He's down," she grunted as she slumped into a chair.
"Want a sandwich?" Thomas asked quietly, still trying
to gage the damage done by his earlier remarks.
"Sandwich? No. I want a vacation with a side order of
sex. Problem is, I'm on this diet, see? I have to lose my
will to live and all my sex drive. Then I might be able to
fit into this tiny little outfit you'd like. It's called
parenthood," she snapped.
"It's got pickles," Thomas replied.
"It better," Betty grumbled as she snatched it from his
hands. Thomas looked at his beaten down wife and considered
hugging her, but in the mood she was in, he was fearful she
might try to take out his heart from the other side. He
stood to leave.
"Diaper bin needs tending to. EPA choppers are
starting to hover over the nursery," Betty reminded him.
"I'll do it," Thomas sighed as he headed up the stairs.
"Mind the little mishap placed strategically inside the
room," Betty whispered toward the stairs. She propped
herself up and headed to the fridge. Various leftovers from
her pregnancy assaulted her nostrils, reminding her of yet
another task to perform. She forced open her squinting eyes
and grabbed a bottle of Evian from the top shelf. Normally,
she didn't drink Thomas's 'yuppie water,' but it seemed to
be the only thing in the fridge not covered with a inch of
fuzz. She took a big swig, then ran the tap water into the
bottle, resealing it and placing it back inside the fridge.
In the bathroom, Betty removed her breast pump and
began her nightly workout to extract milk from herself. In
the last week of so, she had started to show signs of
producing milk, but last night nothing has happened. After
five minutes of alternating breasts, she came up dry again.
Tears of frustration began to well in her eyes. She looked
in the mirror at this contraption coupled to her chest,
trying to urge on something mother nature should have been
doing all along. Tired of the disappointment, she ceased
pumping, placing the pump on the edge of the counter. Her
state of being prevailing, the pump quickly found gravity
and fell to the ground before she could react. Mindful not
to step on the broken glass, Betty seemed not to care as she
shepherded the fragments of her failure into the garbage.
The next day came. During the late evening, Thomas
came home from town, where he'd been visiting the lab again.
Behind him was a young boy in a truck. The two men entered
the kitchen.
"Betty, my dear. Get your stomping clothes on. We're
going dancing and funnin," exclaimed Thomas. "This here's
Robert Hopkins, Bruce's young'n. He's brought up Bruce's
three other boys, so we figured he could take care of Timmy
for one night."
Betty's eyes widened with expectation. Without
hesitation, she bolted upstairs and slipped into her red
dancing dress. While lacing up the bodice, she noticed that
it was a bit snug in the chest area, but figured it was due
to the baby and thought nothing of it. The strings laced up
quickly, revealing only a little bit of her cleavage when
she breathed in. She packed up an overnight bag and zoomed
down the steps.
Robert and Thomas were just stepping into the living
room, cold sodas in hand. Betty left a note of where things
were and a time schedule for Robert. She looked in the
fridge to make sure she'd not forgotten anything. Milk and
Thomas's water were the only things left in the fridge to
drink, but other than that the fridge was stocked. Thirsty,
she took the water bottle and downed a 1/3 of it before
refilling it and replacing it. She grinned evily, knowing
Thomas would kill her for putting tap water in his bottle.
The couple left and headed to the local stomp-and-romp,
Stinkies. A local band was playing, and the pair jumped
eagerly onto the dance floor to work of some aggression. As
they danced, Betty winced periodically as Thomas bumped into
her chest. She was particularly sensitive this evening, but
decided not to let it effect her one night out. For two
straight hours they danced, Betty getting concerned about
the increasing amount of pain she was feeling in her bosom.
She finally excused herself to the powder room, where she
entered a stall and closed the door behind her.
Looking down, she saw that the space between her
strings had worked itself open quiet a bit, revealing a nice
amount of cleavage. she even seemed to be bulging out the
top of the dress a bit. Thinking that her dress had just
gotten tighter then she'd realized, she loosed the strings a
bit. After making sure the fabric covered what it was
supposed to, she sauntered out from the stall. While
washing her hands, she looked in the mirror. Her brow
furrowed as she studied her bust line. It looked bigger.
She squeezed her left breast and winced in pain. Her
breasts were tender.
Not knowing what to make of all this, she returned to
the dance floor. Thomas could see that something was wrong
and the pair immediately walked outside.
"I'm not feeling too well, Thomas. I think we should
go home," Betty confessed.
"You don't think you can make it to Minier's Inn? It's
only 50 miles away. It will take us that long to get home,
and I booked that room two days ago. At least you can get a
nice sleep," Thomas persuaded.
Betty gave in and the two headed to the inn. During
the car trip, Betty found herself adjusting her dress to
relieve some of the pressure she was feeling in her chest.
Thomas noticed and asked what was ailing her, but she just
smiled and told him nothing.
The inn was in a secluded spot in the woods, made up of
separate cabins. A kindly old man gave them the key to
their place, chatting about how slow business was with a
fair some 40 miles away taking all his customers. Thomas
and Betty entered their room, and Thomas gallantly ushered
Betty in by carrying her. He looked down at her in his arms
and nearly dropped her in shock.
"Betty! Your breasts are bigger!" Thomas yelped.
Betty examined herself. Indeed, it did look as if her
chest was much bigger. The strings were straining in their
loops, but not enough to keep the fabric together. A good
portion of her cleavage was showing through, as well as
flowing over the lip of the dress. Thomas set her down and
she straightened up. Her bust line was noticeably larger,
filling out to about 42 inches.
"They are so sensitive, Thomas. And I can feel a
pressure inside them I've never felt before. Do you think
I'm sick or something?" Betty asked.
"I dunno. You think you need a doctor?"
"Not really. I just need to sit down for a minute or
two," Betty sighed. She loosened her top so her breasts
could move freely inside her dress. Thomas began to pace
back and forth, not knowing what to think of the situation.
Betty decided to take a nice warm bath and try and relax.
Despite the recent development, she felt the need to take it
easy. This was her first night out in two months. No
mystery breasts were going to spoil it.
As she sat in the tub, she imagined herself floating in
the clouds. Beneath her the land was swimming by, and in
front of her was a air balloon. As she watched it, the
balloon began to grow. Just then, a knock at the door woke
her from her dream.
"You OK in there? It's been an hour," Thomas asked.
"Just fell asleep, honey. I'm OK..." Betty stopped.
Her eyes were white with surprise to see that her chest had
grown considerably. As she stood, the mirror showed a
gorgeous woman with a wet 50 inch bustline. Unsupported by
water, the weight of her breasts became evident, as did the
tightness of her skin. She doubled up in the rush of pain,
then stood upright again. Her bosom felt like it was full,
pressure pushing against her skin. She put on her
nightshirt, only to have it be too tight. Her breasts were
squeezed tight in the Cubs nightshirt, forcing them to
spread out more towards the side. Betty could feel the
sides of her breasts when she put her arms to her sides.
Something was not right here.
Walking slowly, she emerged from the bathroom. Thomas
sputtered out his beer as he stared at his ballooning wife.
"Oh my God Betty! You're even bigger! What's
happening?" Thomas choked.
"Thomas, they're inflating like balloons! I feel a
shitload of pressure in my tits, and it's making me bigger
all the time. We need to go to the hospital," Betty
revealed.
Thomas stood to grab his coat. Betty reached above the
closet shelf for her purse and was rewarded with a small
ripping sound. A small tear had begun in the center of her
shirt, exposing a little bit of her cleavage. The seams
along the arms also tore a bit. Betty instinctively
covered herself, pressing into her chest. To her surprise,
a warm patch of liquid formed over her nipples.
"Thomas..." Betty squealed. Thomas looked. Betty
pressed harder and the patch grew bigger. "They're giving
milk! Oh, that feels good when I do that." Betty closed
her eyes and squeezed her mams hard, but this time no milk
came out. She did it again, and still nothing much but a
dribble.
"We gotta get you to the hospital, honey," Thomas
pleaded. Betty shook her head.
"You gotta suck me, Thomas. The pressure is getting
worse, and I need relief now!" Betty moaned. She pushed
Thomas's head into the fabric of her shirt, directing his
mouth to her nipple. He began sucking her extended nipple
through the fabric, and a small stream of milk began to flow
into his mouth, straining through the shirt. Betty moaned
as the touch of Thomas's hot mouth of her breast brought
forth more milk from her bosom. Thomas worked for a half
hour, alternating nipples. Tired, he stopped for a break.
Betty didn't look any bigger, and the tear in her shirt had
not gotten wider, but she still seemed pretty voluptuous.
"The pressure is less now, hon. Let's head for home
first so I can get some clothes, OK?" Betty asked, sweat
beading on her brow. Thomas agreed and they entered the
car, speeding for home.
About 40 miles from home, the car was low on gas.
Thomas pulled into the closest gas station, a full service
one ran by a man and his son. The son shuffled out to the
car and began filling the tank while Thomas ran inside to
phone the doctor. Betty shifted in her seat, trying not to
touch her breasts which were starting to feel tinglely.
Ryan Gottlieb, 15, moved from the tank of the car to the
windshield. He got out his squeegee and began to slowly
wash the glass. He looked in the window and saw Betty's
full form examining herself in a compact mirror. Betty saw
Ryan's attention and put away her mirror, grinning
sheepishly. She partially crossed her arms so as to cover
the small hole in the front of her shirt. Ryan's eyes grew
wide at the sight of her great gazongas and he went even
slower cleaning the windshield. Betty smiled at him, but
the smile soon changed to concern as she felt a huge
pressure build in her chest. Suddenly, a wave of pain
snapped through her system and she arched her back.
Through the windshield, Ryan could see Betty's boobs
grow rapidly, filling her nightshirt in moments. Betty shut
her eyes and grit her teeth as her hyper-sensitive tits
pressed tighter and tighter into her shirt. The tear in the
front began to slowly and steadily rip wider and longer,
Betty's knockers spilling out as they inflated. Sweat
formed on her brow as she gripped the headrest behind her
with both hands, panting heavily and moaning. Ryan grew a
boner so fast it hurt as he watched Betty's basketball-sized
tits billow from her body. And as fast as it started, it
ended, with Betty giving a sigh of relief, making her huge
breasts jiggle. They now were barely contained in her
shirt, most of the soft mass squeezing out the middle. She
gasped at the sight and covered herself, giving Ryan a
scared and worried look. Ryan ran inside and soon afterward
Thomas returned. He took one look at his overly-buxom wife
and jumped into the car, almost tearing the gas hook out
from his tank.
"What's happening?!?" Thomas cried.
"I...they just expanded. It felt like something
exploded inside my boobs. They just hurt now, the pressure
is there again," Betty panted. Her breasts were now down to
her belly button, her left nipple protruding from the edge
of the rip in the shirt. Thomas went 100 miles an hour on
the way home, nearly hitting two cars along the way.
Inside, Betty walked fastly to the bathroom. After
Thomas paid off Robert, he got her one of his oversized
shirts to wear. In the bathroom, she recovered the breast
pump from the cabinet. In a short minute, she had filled a
liter bottle full of milk. As Thomas entered, he saw a
relieved smile on his wife's face. She dumped it in the
sink and began working on the other breast. Thomas tore the
shirt from her body, admiring the new form she had grown.
Reluctant to leave, Thomas helped Betty as she pumped her
breasts of milk. After a good two hours, they had actually
gotten Betty back down to a reasonable size. Too sore to
continue, Betty stopped Thomas as he unloaded and tried to
reattach for another load.
"They feel much better now, honey. I don't feel
anymore pressure," Betty yawned.
"OK, I'll get the car started..." Thomas said.
"No, I'm tired. Let's go tomorrow," Betty yawned, half
falling asleep in Thomas's arms.
Thomas got her into her sleeping gown and put her to
sleep. She had a nice smile on her face as she immediately
started to doze off. Thomas grabbed the phone and dialed up
the hospital, asking for a doctor in the morning.
The next day, Thomas was sitting down in the kitchen,
waiting for the doctor. Betty moved slowly into the
kitchen, her eyes half open. Thomas scanned her figure, and
it hadn't changed at all since he'd put her to bed.
"How you feeling hon?" Thomas asked, holding her hand.
"Thirsty. I need some pop." Betty said, smacking her
lips.
"Just got some milk in there," Thomas said, opening the
fridge.
"I'll just have some of the water if you don't mind,"
Betty said.
Thomas stood up as if jolted by electricity.
"Did you drink from my bottle in the last two days?"
Thomas asked seriously.
"Just a bit...why?" Betty asked.
Thomas ignored her and grabbed the phone. He dialed up
the lab he'd been visiting the past two days.
"My wife...she drank the medicine you gave me for my
milking cows. Her chest area grew last night. We milked
her down to size, but you have to help me. What should I
do?" Thomas ranted.
Betty sat down slowly. He'd kept the medicine in the
water bottle, figuring she'd never touch it. Since she
didn't ask about taking some, he never had a chance to warn
her. Her heart began to race, and then she began to feel
that tinglely feeling in her tits again, only this time much
stronger.
"Thomas....I'm going to blow up again!" Betty screamed,
pushing her breasts into her as hard as she could. She
could feel an electricity in her chest, building steadily.
Thomas yelled the occurrence into the phone, asking
frantically for help. Betty gritted her teeth, feeling her
chest slightly swell a little as the pressure built.
"Are you sure? OK, we'll try it," Thomas said and
dropped the phone. "Let's head out to the barn, Betty!"
"Thomas, I'm not going anywhere....uunnghhhh" Betty
said as a wave of pressure grew more intense in her breasts.
She was squeezing her tits as hard as she could, trying to
surpress the increasing sensations. Thomas got behind his
wife and began pushing her out the door and across the yard
to the barn.
"It's too much...their going to explode!!!" Betty
panted as she pressed her bouncing boobs into her body.
Thomas continued to usher her as quick as he could toward
the barn. 10 yards from the entrance, Betty stopped and
turned around.
"My tits are going to pop!...this is too much. I can't
stop it, Thomas! Help me!" Betty cried, her fingers digging
into her bosom. Thomas stared amazed as his wife mashed her
46 inch chest inside her nightgown. Betty's mouth dropped open
and she let out a cry of pain for a second, then her eyes
lowered to her chest.
Slowly, Betty dropped her arms to her side. She moved
her head side to side quickly, examining each breast.
Nothing was happening outside yet, but something inside was.
"It's coming. Oh my god!" Betty whispered, her mouth
forming a perfect O. She drew her shoulders back slowly,
making the material from her nightgown draw slowly over her
naked nipples. She almost looked as if she was wanting her
boobs to grow again.
Thomas snapped out of his trance. He darted into the
barn. As soon as he entered the barn, Betty's whole body
shook. She moaned loudly and then gawked at her chest. Her
breasts began to inflate rapidly, filling up her gown in
nothing flat. They continued to blossom, raising the hem of
her gown slowly as they heaved into the material. Betty
clenched her fists and placed them on the side of her
expanding mammeries. Her frilly gown hit its limit and
began to rip at both nipples, her watermelon sized hooters
blimping out the ripping holes.
Thomas exited the barn with a machine under his arm,
stopping briefly to watch his wife's tits grow larger and
larger.
"They're filling up so fast! I'm gonna pop!
oooohhhh!" Betty moaned, kneeling on the ground under the
weight of her beach ball-sized boobs. Thomas ran to her
side and immediately started up the milking machine.
"My tits are enormous! The pressure...oh god! Their
inflating faster!" Betty screamed, grabbing the sides of her
massive flesh mounds. Blue veins began to show through on
her tits as they increased their mass faster and faster.
Betty's face began to grimace in pain. She was reaching her
end.
"Faster, Thomas! I'm gonna pop! My boobs are blowing
up too big! Oww...my tits!!" Betty gasped as her breasts
grew to the ground, looking like two filled beanbags
swelling from her now-tiny frame. Thomas fired up the
machine and slammed two suckers to her large nipples.
Betty screamed in ecstasy as the machine began sucking
milk from her nipples. Her growing breasts began to slow in
growth, then slowly then began to shrink back in size.
Thomas put the machine in fast gear and white liquid almost
gushed into the milk barrel inside the barn. Betty writhed
in pleasure as the machine tugged and sucked her grossly-
endowed figure smaller and smaller. After 15 minutes, she
was down to a paltry 52 inches, and the machine started to
come up dry. Inside the barn, the milk container had flown
over and a small lake of warm milk filled one corner.
"That felt good, actually," Betty said exhausted.
Thomas covered her with his flannel shirt as the doctor
pulled into the drive. Thomas explained what had happened
just now. The doctor looked at the two, then scratched his
head.
"Well, that potion shouldn't wear off for another week
now. I can give you something to help stop your body from
trying to reproduce the milk, but I'm afraid you will
continue to grow a little bit until then. You'll probably
end up in the 58 inch range when you're done," the doctor
explained.
Betty thought, then saw the lump forming in Thomas's
pants.
"I'll grow accustomed to it," Betty said.
FIN
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