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Duality - Chapter 4 (Novel Commission for Code-Shark101)
🕑 Added 2020-12-01 15:29:19 +0000 UTCTAGS: Anthro, Transformation/TF, Slice-Of-Life, Milk/Lactation, BE, Hyper
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Some time later, it was hard to know when, Beth cleared her throat and broke the hug, picking up the shirt and bra that Ruth had brought in. In silence, the two worked together to stuff Linda’s new assets into both of them; it was far bigger of a challenge than anticipated, as the latter’s breasts were not only stuffed to the point where most of their squish and give was gone, but they were absurdly heavy as well, at points needing Bethany to use both arms just to heave one into place. Amazingly, as soon as the bra was put in place, Linda felt her weight begin to shift away from her front and towards her back, despite her body remaining the exact shape regardless; it was still there, of course, but somehow that single piece of clothing had let her become mobile again, probably another one of Rivtech’s trinkets. Her new shirt came right after, doing absolutely nothing to hide her size, but at least hiding her shame.
“Are you ready to go speak with the boss, hun?” Beth finally spoke up, choosing her words carefully.
“... will you be there with me?”
Linda’s voice cracked and her spirit nearly did as well. Her still-watery eyes betrayed how vulnerable she was feeling, and led to Beth nodding without even thinking if she’d be allowed in the office at all. There was no point worrying about those trivialities when her closest friend needed her help; best friend… and something else entirely, perhaps. There was no resistance when Bethany leaned forward and pulled them into as tight of a hug as she could, having to worry about those immense breasts between them. Linda did nothing, allowing the two to enter into a deep, minute-long kiss, one that was renewed as soon as it was broken. There was not a single hint of eroticism in it, nothing that would characterize their mini-moments away from the cameras; this was nothing if not an affirmation of their love for one another, spoken with no words and sealed in a way that could never be broken. By the time they were done, both of them were crying, with a smile stamped on their faces.
Ten minutes, a lot of stuffing later, Linda was embroiled in a shouting match with her boss.
“You cannot be serious!” she bellowed, pointing at her exposed cleavage, “This is not normal!”
“I am serious and I do not care,” the man spat back, somehow avoiding looking at the two colossal breasts staring him in the face, “you knew what you were going into when you signed up for that company thing, whatever it was, so don’t come crying to me because something unexpected happened!”
“My tits are bigger than I am!” the panda girl replied, her exasperation and utter bemusement at her boss’ nonchalant reaction leaving her beyond confused, “How am I expected to work like this?!”
“Does it look like I give a shit?” - the man crossed his arms, tapping his feet in the meantime - “Your contract says you’re staying until six, so you’re staying until six. Unless you want me to throw you out, that is.”
“You would-”
“Rivtech can do a great many things to me, Linda,” her boss interrupted, making sure to punctuate her name, “but they can’t fault me for enforcing the contract they drew up. You’re on ‘til six, so you’re on ‘til six. End of story.”
Such blatant disregard for basic decency left Linda bouncing between wanting to cry and battling with the immense need to punch that smug smile off the older man’s face. It was clearer than day that he knew exactly how much of a dick he was acting like, for once being able to relish in an opportunity to torment her. In any other circumstance, the panda girl might’ve understood why he hated her; she was thrown at him from nowhere, courtesy of a company that couldn’t care less about what he thought or could afford. She didn’t like him, he didn’t like her, that was fine. She could live with that. But being treated like that was a different story altogether. She couldn’t resort to lawyers thanks to… everything, really, and neither could she rely on any one of her coworkers, especially not Beth; though her close friend was there next to her, she was smart enough not to open her mouth during the whole spectacle, knowing how close they were to being fired if they dared to interfere in the confrontation. It’d be incredibly selfish of Linda to expect anyone else to stand in the crossfire; besides, she’d never do that to Beth. Not her, not never.
“My tits are wider than some of the spaces between tables, care to explain how I’m supposed to deal with that?” the panda spoke up, hoping that taking a more practical approach to things would help her case.
“Call someone else to help in that case, do I have to tell you everything?” - and there was the prompt disappointment - “Linda, your tits could be on the fucking floor and I’d be telling you this anyway. Deal with your shit outside work hours; while you’re in here, you do what I say. Are we clear?”
There were a great many things Linda wanted to say there, none of which she’d get away with.
“... no. No we’re not.”
Time for round two.
Eventually, Rivtech had to send someone down from company headquarters, as Linda was not moving from the office, no matter how much her boss threatened her. All the while her breasts gurgled and sloshed every time she shifted her weight, as they slowly continued to grow under her crossed arms, the chair she had wedged herself into complaining under her growing weight. Finally, when Rivtech’s representative arrived, Linda was about to cry with frustration, still insisting on being allowed to leave, whether it be to head back to the labs, check into a hospital, or hell, just go back home for all she cared.
“Linda, we understand that you’re feeling targeted here, but we can’t do anything to alter your contract” - the man had to raise a finger, seeing as he could already tell Linda was going to interject - “furthermore, this transformation is something no one in the research team could have reasonably foreseen; we cannot risk you going home and potentially contaminating the sample.”
“Contaminating the sam-what are you on about?!” the panda girl screamed back, “Have you seen me?! You can’t get more contaminated than this!”
“Your growth has stabilized and you seem perfectly capable of motion. Additionally, the support bra will keep your weight perfectly distributed until the end of your shift, after which we would be more than happy to take you back to the laboratory on our own dime. However, until then, we cannot afford to further change your routine; it was bad enough that this happened, we cannot let you interfere further.”
Linda didn’t know what to say. She had fully expected the rep to both side with her and immediately whisk her away, rather than sit physically next to her boss and then agree with the bastard that she needed to finish her shift. She had no way of reacting to the comments that didn’t involve screaming her head off, something that was apparently clear enough for Beth to place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it hard enough for the message to come through.
Nonetheless, something had to give, and if not her anger, then her body had to do. The stress was welling up and the pressure began to reach a breaking point again, and it wouldn’t take more than a few seconds for her bra to start feeling incredibly tight again. Panic began to rise almost as fast as her breastflesh did, with even Beth’s hand trembling in obvious fear. Every eye in the room was staring directly at her bust, which only made the situation that much worse; the weight wasn’t as bad as it had been during the initial spurt, courtesy of that piece of clothing provided oh-so-generously by the same company screwing her over, but she was still growing hard enough to feel it mount.
“See? This is exactly what I meant,” the representative spoke up again, “the slightest amount of stress and your body reacts by increasing your bustline. Honey, I don’t kn-”
“Don’t you fucking call me that.”
Her words were delivered as calmly as possible, yet dripped with both rage and murderous intent. A line had been crossed, and that man better realize it… and he did. That smile told Linda that he knew exactly what he had done, and that no matter how harshly the panda girl disapproved, or how intense her stare was, she had no power in their relationship.
“As I was saying, dear, I don’t know what’s causing this, but the last thing we need is for you to go home and give yourself a conniption, because we’re not paying for a moving company to come dislodge you from your place. Understand?”
Linda wanted to cry. She wanted to bawl her eyes out in a corner and forget everything ever happened. She wanted Beth to have more than her hand on her. She wanted silence and warmth. She wanted to be away.
But above all, she wanted to have a few words.
“And what if I say no?”
“Then I’m certain you’d have another opportunity lined up for when we terminated your agreement with us.”
There wasn’t a hint of smug superiority in those words, and for the duration of that sentence, the man’s shit-eating grin vanished. It was enough to send chills down Linda’s spine.
“... y-you can’t be serious.”
“As per the agreement you signed, you agreed to provide whatever help was necessary for the further development of this research project, in addition to agreeing to whatever was required of you for the sake of preserving the integrity of all experimental data. And as you can see from this written statement” - the rep pulled out a sheet of paper, still hot from the printer - “the research team has unanimously agreed that your remaining at your workplace was crucial to prevent any cross-contamination of experimental variables.”
Linda hesitated at first, but did eventually grab the sheet and gave it a read. She recognized many of the names that were signed on it, her face dropping as the list kept going on, her fate sealed by a research team that gave absolutely no damns about her well-being… or even what she wanted.
“Therefore, if you would be so ungrateful as to go home,” the rep carried on, “we would be forced to terminate our arrangement.”
For a second or two, Linda felt like pressing the issue, and then the weight of those words sank in. In the end, she caved, breaking down and accepting a new apron, tying it as best she could around her overflowing breasts, and slunk back out onto the dining room floor, having to lift one boob through the door at a time.
The panda gal that entered the staff changing room was so radically different from the one that left it that even the friendly regulars knew something was wrong, and it wasn’t just her sudden and unexpected increase in size; there was a dark cloud that seemed to hang over her usual peppy and cheerful self, one that seemed to be dragging her behind it like a listful, empty shell. Only a few caught her devastated expression for long though, as their gaze was inevitably drawn to her barely contained chest and obscenely swollen nipples.
The patrons of the diner gawked openly at the transformation she’d undergone. What they couldn’t see were the large crosses of tape she had improvised over her teats in a desperate attempt to contain her flow; they tugged and pulled at her fur whenever she moved more than she had to, and even then barely did anything to contain the leakage. It was electrical tape, not anything appropriate for fluids, and before long she had two damp spots forming in the front of her shirt. Linda’s self-awareness spiked to insane heights, and this in turn had the side-effect of worsening her condition; the more stressed out she became, the more her breasts began to fill, the massive tanks on her chest wobbling and sloshing with every step, exasperating her to no end, doubly so whenever she looked down and was forced to watch her fur rippling in waves. The situation deteriorated to the point where she had to stop everything in the middle of an order run and spend five minutes taking deep breaths just to get herself back under something remotely resembling control.
The rest of her shift was as much a mess as it could ever have been, her breasts refusing to shrink down and indeed only bloating harder whenever anything stressed her out more than usual. Any time the slightest inconvenience crossed her path, be it a dropped fork, a spilled cup of coffee she had to clean, her breasts rebelled and instantly began swelling with a sickening gurgle as more milk filled her to maximum capacity and beyond. Her nipples hurt, burning under the pressure and chafing under the wet tape. The more breastflesh Linda had to worry about, the more her anxiety grew, the pressure waves crashing against the overworked tape no longer a series of rhythmic throbs, but sharp pangs of pain. Even her second uniform was starting to fray, the seams bursting as her breasts pushed out through the ripping fabric, crescent bulges of her boobs pushing through the tears. Her shirt too was rapidly losing the battle, failing to keep her bust from spilling out whenever she had to squeeze herself between tables.
The only thing keeping the experience bearable were the occasional words of encouragement from some of the kinder customers, regulars that had seen her before and seemed to take pity on her current situation. It didn’t help that much, all things considered, but hearing them say how they could understand the ridiculousness of being forced to work like that was at least some degree of confirmation that she wasn’t going completely crazy. A few even went so far as to recommend a good massage parlour downtown for when she was done, and one of the oldest customers they had (quite literally so) even slipped her a piece of paper with an address and a note on it.
“Brother owns dairy farm outside town. Show up after seven, tell him Mae sent you. He’ll leave you alone for as long as you need”
It said something about the ridiculousness of her situation that Linda genuinely saw this as a heartfelt gift, when in any other circumstance she would’ve balked at the mere suggestion of turning herself into a dairy cow.
Unfortunately, the customer who kickstarted this entire situation was still there. Worse yet, he seemed to regard her sudden transformation as something to be made a mockery of, though no one seemed to laugh at his crude jokes. Honeytits, bear tits, panda tits, anything-tits, that man lacked imagination and creativity about as much as he lacked manners. He seemed intent on making her job hell as well; either that or he was truly the clumsiest clod in the whole world. More than once he “accidentally” dropped his fork or knife, loudly demanding that Linda come over and replace it, because he wasn’t going to eat with anything that had been in touch with “the dirty fucking ground”. When the panda gal politely pointed out she was having some trouble bending down, he would cross his arms and proclaim it wasn’t his problem, only to openly leer at her semi-exposed bust whenever she relented to grab what he dropped. On occasion he would go so far as to bring his hands dangerously close to her before she backed off, then shrugged and said it was just normal for people to want to pet the house mascot.
Even Beth’s reassurance that her shift would be over soon did nothing to help, seeing as that one man did more to anger her than entire lunch rushes did combined. More than once he would shout for her when she was on the other end of the diner, loudly complaining about how he had hair in his food. Amazingly, none of them were black or white, but house policy dictated they replace his meal anyway, so that’s exactly what she did. And then, when the new plate came around, the extra thick coating of spices courtesy of the kitchen staff getting as tired of the man as Linda was, the customer would spill his drink and demand the panda girl clean it up.
“It’s nothing compared to the mess you’re making, sugartits,” he quipped, “I mean fuck me, do you expect us to think these are real?”
Before Linda could react, the man leaned forward and held onto her nipples. She yelped, her body freezing in placing from the sudden onset of overwhelming sensations firing up her spine. She knew it was going to happen eventually, even if it wasn’t someone grabbing them on purpose; those things were so swollen and engorged with milk that they were very clearly outlined against her shirt, enough that she had to take extra care not to rub them against anything. Hell, they were large enough the rude customer could hold both of them like handles, getting ready to milk her right there and then if not for Beth “accidentally” thwapping him on the back of the head with the broom she was conspicuously carrying.
The rest of the staff were no help either; contrary to their usual selves, they seemed to have adopted a hands-off approach to her sudden milky boobs issue that had arisen in their ranks. Even those who Linda had thought to be friends decided to ignore her struggles as she tried to clean the dirty dishes from a vacated table. Her breasts predictably got in the way, pressure mounting on them as she had to reach over the tabletop, the resulting squeezing causing Linda’s nipples to let loose another stream of milk that instantly began soaking through her shirt. At one point Linda swore she was taking care of every single request, only to look around and have this suspicion confirmed as the other waitresses had been unexplainably summoned to the staff room.
“Great.” Was all she could say, looking out over the still busy diner, and expectant patrons. “Just great.”
Twenty minutes of pure hell later, Linda was about ready to burst into the office and demand some help. Her breasts had kicked into full production mode, and the rolling churning of the milk within her had made her breasts uncomfortably tight, spilling out through giant gashes in her now tattered uniform, her nipples streaming steady droplets of milk through her soaked shirt. She was halfway to the door when it swung open and, with Ruth leading the pack, Linda watched as her coworkers moved out flowing past her, each averting their gaze as they went.
“Guys? Guys, what’s wrong?” she asked of them, receiving nothing but silent gazes and looks of utter dismay in return, “What did they tell you in there?”
It was clear they wanted to say something; a few even tried, but none dared to verbalize whatever was on their minds. Even Beth, who was the last person to leave, refused to share anything with her, though she did mouth a silent “Sorry” before offering a tight hug. The young woman was sobbing, and now Linda felt more worry than she did panic; just what had happened in there?
Even with the additional help on the dining room floor, Linda was still struggling, trying to catch the eye of any of her coworkers. The way they all looked at her made Linda feel extremely uncomfortable; there was something in those expressionless stares that made her shiver, feeling more and more like a lab rat underneath a spotlight. Perhaps the company had intimidated them all into compliance, or perhaps they simply didn’t want to get involved in her problems, but regardless of what the truth was, it left her feeling isolated and alone. By the end of her shift, Linda was biting back tears and desperately trying to find anyone who might listen, only to be met with more silence, slow head shaking and even a hushed, cryptic remark of “Not here” by one of her closest coworkers.
It was all just so… confusing.
