Suckled: Nature's Bounty
Date: 9/13/2017, Categories: Fetish, Author: Metilda, Source: LushStories
Chapter 1 I saw the advertisement in the classified section of the newspaper while I was riding the Metro. The page was folded at a strange angle, crumpled in the man's hand who sat oblivious to my prying eyes. It read: Wanted: adult wet nurse. It brought to mind things I hadn't thought of in years, long forgotten fantasies I used to entertain when I was far more inexperienced in life: my breasts heavy and full with milk, a man stroking my pussy as he sucked wildly. Oh so many fantasies. The moment those delicious thoughts came to mind, they wouldn't leave. The taste of it in my own mouth, the sensation of warm lips tugging on my weeping nipples. Not just one, but two men. One for each. Pumps, filling wine glasses with my milk, kinky scenarios with lactose-lusting cops wanting to pull me over and wet me down. And it only took a few flashes of fantasy for me to be there, next to a raspy-breathing stranger, people packed in tight all around, horny as hell. The train lurched to the left. Gears pulled. Then we were slowing, lights from the station streaming past. My stop. A clutter of passengers busied off. The man beside me stood, collected up his briefcase, and left, his newspaper still on the seat. A clutter of passengers entered. And I gathered the paper, folding it up and quickly slipping it in my purse before jumping up and squeezing my way out the shutting door. - Later that evening, after work, I drank some liquid courage in order to brave the act of calling the ... number. “Yes?” The voice on the other end of the line was husky but female. “I'm calling in regard to the advertisement in the classifieds today.” “Of course. Please hold.” The line went silent and for a moment. I worried she hung up, but then the line crackled and another woman answered. “Are you calling about the nursing position?” “Yes, I had a fe...” “The position a lifestyle change. Not for everyone. On site-living quarters. Nursing needs are for two.” I unfolded the newspaper and glanced it over. “The add says adult. Does that mean...?” “Adult men, yes.” The woman on the phone was so upfront and business-like about it, it was shocking and yet relaxed me entirely. “What is your name?” she asked. “I'll put you down as a potential applicant.” Oh! I was so focused on the fantasies I hadn't thought too much about the reality: I wasn't post-partum and lactating. “Breanne. But I...” “Mister Quin requires all potential nurserers to undergo lactative therapy. It involves a structured pill regiment to induce full lactation. Process takes one full month on average for nursing mothers and a little longer if you’re not already lactating. He compensates with double pay in this interim if you are selected.” “And how much is that?” “Forty-Five Thousand paid in full.” Forty-five Thousand dollars to take some pills and make milk? My head spun a little as I struggled to fully grasp that reality. I reached into my purse, digging around for a pen and paper. I only found a receipt and a black ...