New Entry For The Poll Driven Story “The Breast Obsessed Merchant”

You can find the new entry below the break or read the story in its current entirety HERE.

Content Warnings/Kink Spoilers: This is a short entry at just over 1,000 words. There’s no sex scene, but there is a focus on a characters need to be milked and how horny she is.

I’ve had a few requests to start posting the poll entry along with each post (mostly because Crowd Signal makes reading the results hard), so I’m going to start doing that. The poll winner was:

The story will show, through Dorol’s point of view, that the small milking the night before has left her horny and her breasts aching for a further milking. This will alarm her, as the more her cursed breasts are milked the hornier she gets and the more desperate she gets to be further milked. She’ll wonder if Cilrodril did something to her in her sleep, but quickly abandon the idea because he’s seemed so wholesome so far. That night on watch after Cilrodril has gone to sleep we’ll see her struggling to deal with her arousal and aching to be milked. We’ll pause there to determine what, if anything, she does about it.

* * *

Dorol struggled the next day to keep up the pleasant conversation Cilrodril seemed so intent on indulging in. Something had happened during the night, something that had left her distracted and disturbed. She labored through the day, doing her best to keep him from growing suspicious. When they made camp and he retired for the evening to sleep in the back of the cart she’d breathed a sigh of relief, finally able to let her guard down and openly wear her frustrations, frustrations that had only grown worse throughout the day of travel through the Endless Lowlands.

She’d woken from her nap the previous night horny to the point of distraction and it had only gotten worse since then. By the time they’d restarted their journey in the morning it had grown so bad that she’d lost all interest in trying to get some sleep while Cilrodril drove the cart along the path meandering through the wilds. She’d feared what would happen if she laid down in the back of the cart able to pull a blanket over herself and be unseen.

I’m already struggling to keep my hands away from places it would be improper to touch while in this man’s company, she thought. If I was out of sight I don’t know if I’d be able to keep from playing with myself, and to do so with the man so close? I’d shame myself…

She’d wanted to groan in frustration but had forced herself not to. Dorol knew she needed to do her best not to show signs of the torment she was in less she caused Cilrodril to grow suspicious. I must keep this awful curse a secret from all, she thought, hating as always whenever she was forced to acknowledge the curse’s existence. She wasn’t the best liar and worried she’d be able to hide the shameful secret from someone she’d be spending so much time with, someone so kind and friendly and who seems so wholesome.

Or is he perhaps not what I think he is? She’d side-eyed the young, charming Human then, hating the suspicions she’d been having since waking. She’d woken with her breasts tender and throbbing, aching for a milking. There had been a slight sense that they HAD recently been milked, but she’d dismissed that feeling at first. But as time went on and she felt herself growing more intensely horny and felt the ache to be milked grow ever more intense she was left wondering.

It was part of the awful curse. Her breasts, swollen and heavy with unnatural lactation, always ached to be milked. But give in to that aching need even a little and things would grow worse. After a short respite her breasts would only ache for further milking, producing more of the dreaded milk that left her breasts heavy and painfully full while grossly leaking.

Along with the increase in milk production came overwhelming horniness. The desire for sexual attention, especially to her breasts, was another part of the curse’s fiendishness. Indulge in her aching sexual needs and her breasts would lactate more intensely leaving her feeling an ever-deeper ache to be milked. Give her breasts what they ached for and she’d end up even more horny. It was a terrible cycle of humiliating and shameful wants and needs that could never be quenched.

So far she’d found the only way to soothe the maddening cycle was to deny her cursed body what it longed for. She never expressed the unnatural milk building up inside her breasts and tried her best to abstain from all sexual stimulation, even self-pleasure. There would be distraction and pain at first, but after a time the horniness and the aching in her breasts would lessen then subside almost completely.

Waking up feeling what she’d felt made it seem like something had happened in her sleep. Could it be that Cilrodril had done something to her? Her mind filled with images of the man lurking up to her while she was helpless and asleep, exposing her breasts then sucking on her nipples. Feasting lasciviously on her milk while he put his hand down her pants and played with her pussy. The fact the imagined nocturnal sexual assault left her nearly panting and so turned on she felt she’d wet her seat filled Dorol with intense shame.

Stop it, she kept telling herself whenever the suspicions turned to shameful sexual fantasies. Ser Cil is a kind, friendly, sweet young Human man. He’d never do such a thing! It HAS to be something else. Perhaps I rolled over in my sleep, pressing into my breasts and accidentally forcing some milk out. I’ve done such before and it’s enough to get the maddening cycle of aching desires started.

Now she sat by a crackling fire, brooding miserably as she struggled to ignore the ache in her breasts and throbbing needs of her womanhood. She was so horny it felt like she was in a muddled haze. Her body was warm, her skin and especially her womanhood burning with desire to be touched.

She kept finding herself glancing at the cart where Cilrodril slept, unable to keep from wondering what the kind man’s touch would be like. Images of him kindly bringing her relief flooded her mind. Her laying on the ground, him sucking on her nipples to drain them of milk to ease the throbbing, maddening pressure building up in her breasts. His hand in her pants, fingers dancing on her womanhood then thrusting into her sopping hole to bring her relief from the sexual pressure building and building till she felt she might scream.

But it would only make things worse, she thought bitterly. The relief would be short lived then the building pressure and maddening desires would return even stronger than before.

Still, the thoughts wouldn’t leave her mind. He’s handsome for a Human. And kind. And his mouth, she thought, shivering and wanting to grab her breasts to squeeze them as she imagined his lips locked around her nipples as he sucked her aching breasts dry.

STOP. Stop, stop, stop! Clear your mind or you’re going to do something reckless. Never mind how giving in will just ensure the curse makes the desire and aching worse, think about how Ser Cil will lose all respect for you. Even if I could hide my curse by finding some lie about why I’m lactating he’d think I’m a shameful, slutty woman if I beg him to pleasure me. And the precedent it would set! I know how men can be, once you’ve given yourself to them they expect you are theirs to have whenever they wish. He’s my employer, not someone to have a distracting tryst with.

How is Dorol going to deal with her building sexual frustrations and breasts aching to be milked? (Choose up to 4 options from this poll)