The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 1

My downfall began with a smoothie. I was home from college for the summer, only back for two days, when my mom asked me to assist the new neighbor with some chores. “I need to take a shower first,” I told her, having just returned from my morning jog.

“Go help Ms. Terri before that,” my mother demanded as she got in her car. “She’s trying to put away her groceries with her arm in a cast, bless her heart. She left the kitchen door open for you. I’ve got to leave now. Be polite, and have a good day!”

I sighed and turned to do as I was asked, muttering that it didn’t sound all that urgent. It really wasn’t, either, since it looked like all of the refrigerated food was already taken care of by the time I arrived. “Hi, Ms. Terri,” I said as I slid open the glass door and entered her house. “My mom said you needed some help.”

“Oh, hello there!” the neighbor said, spinning around as if surprised. “Titania, isn’t it?” She was of about average height, but with an extremely curvy build, which she accentuated by wearing a dress you’d expect to see at a nightclub. It was tight enough to easily tell she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and her nipples were huge and apparently very hard.

I frowned, but only partly because of her rather slutty display. “Mom and dad call me that,” I explained, trying not to sound bitter. “For everyone else, I either go by ‘Taney’ or my surname.”

“I’m so sorry!” Ms. Terri said, giving me what seemed to be a genuine smile of understanding. “Your mom was talking both you and your brother Oberon up quite a bit when I first moved in. I thought it kind of strange to name siblings after a husband and wife, but I didn’t feel it was my place to criticize.”

I sighed again and nodded, slightly impressed that she recognized the source, but not wanting to get drawn into a discussion about my mom’s obsession with Shakespeare. She was a high school English teacher who really would have preferred to be a Literature professor, but her plans got somewhat derailed by pregnancy. “It’s okay,” I said. “Do you still want me to help you put away these things, Ms. Terri?” I gestured at the dozen or more plastic bags crowding her kitchen island.

“That’d be wonderful, if you don’t mind,” she replied. “And please, you can just call me Terri. We’re not all that far apart in age! I tolerate the formality from your mother because I’m trying to be polite!” She gave me a little wink, as if we could bond over my mom’s slightly annoying habits. Truth be told, I didn’t feel entirely comfortable dispensing with the honorific, since she was probably about a decade older than me, even if her scandalous outfit suggested she was still a party girl at heart and in denial about approaching (or suring) thirty.

I asked her a few questions about where she wanted things and tried to hurry without being obviously in a rush. I was a little miffed that she wanted a lot of stuff on the upper shelves, which she’d need to use a stool or chair to reach, but did as requested. “You’re pretty tall for a woman,” Ms. Terri remarked, in a tone of voice that made me turn my head. I thought for a moment that she might have been checking out my ass, given I was still wearing my jogging shorts while stretching a bit to reach the shelf, but she seemed to be innocently looking up and holding the next item for me to put away. I told myself that maybe she was just being wistful about being unable to do so.

Once the top shelves were full and I started on the lower ones, Ms. Terri remarked, “It’s very kind of you to come over and help me right after you got done exercising. If I offered you a few bucks for your trouble, would you accept it?”

I gave a short laugh and said, “If my mom found out, she’d make me give it back. And pay interest.”

Ms. Terri chuckled a little and replied, “Yes, she seemed almost horrified when I tried to give her some for helping me clean the pool. I feel kind of uncomfortable accepting charity, though. Can I at least offer you a cold drink? Maybe a smoothie, since it looks like you were out jogging?”

My mother’s ideas about accepting gifts warred with my thirst, aided by the slight moochiness most college kids develop if their education depends on scholarships, loans, and prayers. “A smoothie sounds really nice, thank you,” I said, trying to give the neighbor a more genuine smile than my earlier efforts.

“Great!” said Ms. Terri. She proceeded to make the drink while I finished up with groceries. I mumbled some thanks when she handed me the frothy glass and took a sip. My eyes went wide at the burst of flavor, and I reflexively took a deeper pull. I couldn’t ever having a more delicious taste in my mouth. It was a strawberry smoothie, but better than any I’d ever had. I tilted my head back and drained the cup, watching her with one eye as I did so, blushing with embarrassment at my undignified behavior. “Seems like you needed that!” she remarked when I was done.

“It was so good!” I gushed, not quite believing what had happened. I watched the residue slowly collecting in the bottom of the glass and had to fight a strong urge to lick it clean. I looked up to see Ms. Terri smiling at me, almost smirking, and I blushed again. “Thank you!” I stammered. “Would you like me to wash out the glass?” I wondered if I could manage to extract the remnants without her seeing while cleaning it.

“No need to bother,” she replied, to my slight dismay. “Just leave it in the sink. I can still load the dishwasher with one arm.”

I did so, then stood around feeling awkward for several interminable seconds. “Uh, well, I guess I should be going now,” I said, and it sounded almost like a question, as if I were waiting for permission to leave. “Unless you have anything else you need help with.”

“You’re very thoughtful!” Ms. Terri said, giving me a hug. If I hadn’t been feeling so spacey I probably would have tried to discourage such familiarity from a virtual stranger, but in my addled state of mind I just stood there, letting it happen without trying to reciprocate. I was uncomfortably aware of feeling her nipples jabbing my belly. The embrace seemed to last a long time, but when it was done I politely said good-bye and went home to have my postponed shower.

As I stood under the hot water my hands went from efficient washing to gentle caressing. I was surprised to realize that I was getting turned on. I had no attraction to women, especially not to women like Ms. Terri, who seemed like she would act the harlot. My mind cast about for any alternate explanation for the arousal I felt, and I finally decided it was just a form of association. I have a pretty healthy libido most of the time, and getting off in a dorm can be challenging, and showers may be the closest thing you can get to real privacy. Having spent the last two years needing to masturbate while bathing had probably conditioned my body to expect some pleasure from the act.

That was what I kept repeating, anyway, while my fingers crawled through my bush and into my crevasse, while trying not to the feeling of Ms. Terri’s hard nubs poking me.

Chapter 2

It was a couple of days before I saw our neighbor again, other than in ing. I was returning later than usual from my morning jog, since I was still feeling kind of antsy and hoped to suppress it with exhaustion. Plus, it meant mom and dad would be gone by the time I got back, so I could enjoy a lengthy shower if the exercise didn’t work as intended.

When I was ing Ms. Terri’s house, I saw her on the front porch struggling with a lot of large boxes. Part of me wanted to pretend to ignore it, because I had pushed myself pretty hard and needed to relax for a while. But doing so felt mean and dishonest, and I didn’t want to be that kind of person. So, rather than continuing on to my parent’s house, I turned up the neighbor’s driveway and asked, “Would you like some help with those?”

“Oh, Taney!” Ms. Terri replied, sounding out of breath. “Yes, thank you! I don’t think I’ll be able to manage this on my own!” Quite a few of her deliveries were smallish, but several were too large and heavy for one person. As I frowned at the pile, she mentioned, “I actually have a hand truck just inside the door, but I can’t move this one box enough to get it out. Maybe if we just shove it to the side?” Working together, we got the largest one to slide a few feet, then we managed to get it on the dolly and into her house.

“Where to?” I grunted, trying to maneuver the heavy load.

“They’re all going to the spare bedroom back here,” she explained, trying to keep the box steady with her one good arm while walking backwards down the hallway. Fortunately, the room in question was almost empty, so once we managed to squeeze through the doorway it wasn’t too hard to dump it in a corner.

“Oof!” I exclaimed. “I hope the rest aren’t as heavy!”

Ms. Terri leaned against the box, also sounding tired, and nodded her head. I only then noticed that she was rather indecently clad, this time with a dress that was almost sheer. It left much of her legs and chest exposed, and once again the nipples on her large breasts were erect, enormously so. I tried not to stare, especially since sweat was making the dress translucent, and it clung to her skin in several places, including those prominent nubs.

“There are a few more that I think we’ll both be needed for,” Ms. Terri eventually said. “After we get those, if you don’t mind handling the smaller ones, I can go and make us both something to drink. Something refreshing.”

“Another smoothie?” I asked, and I blushed at how eager my voice sounded.

Ms. Terri just smiled knowingly and nodded. “And maybe something solid to go with it. I’ll save some of the fruit for snacking.”

It took me another twenty minutes or so to finish moving things, and Ms. Terri had actually set the table in her breakfast nook with a somewhat substantial meal. “I had more time than I knew what to do with,” she explained, also blushing slightly. “Eat as much as you want, but don’t feel pressured! None of it will go to waste if we don’t finish it right away.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. Terri!” I gushed, reaching for what I expected was a banana smoothie. “Sorry! Thank you, Terri,” I amended, seeing her give me a playful look of disapproval. The new drink was just as delicious and amazing as before, even though I’m normally kind of neutral about banana-flavored things. Terri was drinking one, too, although she didn’t seem quite as overwhelmed as I was. I supposed that made sense, given that whatever amazing ingredients she was using, she must be accustomed to them. Not like me, the poor college girl next door.

While I sampled some of her other offerings, initially just to be polite and then because they were equally scrumptious, I asked her about the packages I’d helped her move. “I hope I’m not being too nosy,” I added.

“Not at all,” Terri replied, munching on a strawberry. I watched a dribble of juice run down her chin and briefly, very briefly, imagined myself licking it away. “Did your mom tell you what I do?”

I blinked, distracted, and answered, “Um, not really. Something about photography, I think?” My mother had actually talked about Terri’s career for a while at dinner one night, but I hadn’t listened to very much of it, doubting it would ever be relevant.

“That’s part of it,” Terri agreed. “I also do some videography and set design. The delivery today is basically a set for an project. Backgrounds, props, outfits… that kind of stuff.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling kind of spacey again. “That’s… neat.” Terri smiled at me some more, and again it almost looked like smirking, perhaps because of my lack of eloquence. I tried to think of anything even vaguely intelligent to say about her job, finally landing on, “So, does that mean models come here to be, um, in your pictures?”

Terri nodded, then noticed my glass was empty and poured something from a metal carafe into it. I was hoping for more smoothie, but it turned out to be plain milk, although it didn’t taste like the stuff we used at home. It was thinner and sweeter, but it was obviously the same kind she made the smoothies with, and I loved it from the first gulp. While I drained my glass, she told me, “Yes, you may occasionally see some very attractive people coming and going from my house. Mostly they’ll be people I work with.”

“Mostly?” I asked. I could feel a milk mustache on my upper lip and tried to lick it away, perfectly aware of how undignified I was behaving but unable to stop myself.

Terri gave me a knowing smile and leaned closer, confiding, “Well, I’m not an old maid yet. I still enjoy the occasional booty call.” My mouth fell open a little and I blushed furiously, making me feel like a fool. We never discussed sex at home, except in the most clinical or euphemistic ways, but I was no stranger to having candid conversations with other women my age. Terri was older, though, and somehow made me feel very immature by comparison, especially with how openly sexual she seemed to be.

Noticing my discomfort, Terri leaned back with a wistful smile and nibbled on some more snacks while I tried to regain my composure. She quite openly looked me up and down for a while before commenting, “You could be a model, too, if you were interested.”

“Um, thanks,” I said, snorting a little and trying to suppress a disbelieving laugh. She just continued looking at me, and I finally asked, “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” Terri replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to bullshit you and say you could make a career out of it. Supermodels are rare and it’s anybody’s guess what body type will be the next big thing. Maybe you’d be lucky and for the next few years tall, busty athletes are all the rage, but you can’t count on it.”

“Tall, busty athletes?” I repeated, somewhere between amused and offended at the characterization.

Terri smiled, and her eyes twinkled as she responded. “What part do you disagree with? You’ve gotta be close to six feet tall, your titties are almost as big as mine, and I’m willing to bet that smooth belly of yours has rock-hard abs just below the surface.”

“Um…” I replied, not really sure how to have such a conversation with her.

“Let’s check, shall we?” Terri asked, sounding coy. She leaned forward again and placed her hand right over my belly button. I flinched a bit, which did indeed faintly reveal the abs she was talking about; they’re mostly only visible when I flex, or if I’m dehydrated, but I had consumed quite enough milk already to recover from my sweaty run. “Just as I suspected!” she teased, rubbing her hand back and forth a bit and making me gasp. I felt butterflies in my stomach and a worrisome tingle deeper and lower.

“Stop! I’m ticklish!” I said, desperate for an excuse as I pushed myself away.

“Sorry!” said Terri, giving me a look at that seemed both contrite and disappointed. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, quickly and somewhat dishonestly. “Thank you for the food and, um, the rest of it. But I really need to get home now!” I was backing away from her table the whole time, then finally turned tail and fled as she said a goodbye that I didn’t really hear.

I immediately jumped in the shower when I got back. I was a sweaty, dirty mess, and not all of it from my run. The pretense of washing myself lasted even less time than before. Very soon I had the fingers of my right hand in my sex while the other massaged my big titties. Even thinking the word ‘titties’ made me hotter. I’d never referred to my breasts using any other term, or at least nothing that sounded so silly and sexual, but it kept rolling around in my head, almost like my fingers were rolling around my hard nipple. “Mm, titties!” I said, almost hissing, as I drove myself to a climax.

Chapter 3

I did my best to avoid Terri for the next week. I changed my jogging route to ensure I didn’t her house, I avoided looking out of any windows that faced that direction, and I found reasons to evade my parents as much as possible, lest my mother assign me another task to assist the neighbor.

I started craving more of the milk, though. It almost felt like an addiction, but I didn’t think it was quite that serious. More like the feeling of wanting one specific kind of food, but the store is all out, so you’re just unfulfilled and annoyed. That reminded me that I actually knew which store she shopped at, since their logo had been on all the bags I’d helped put away that first day. It was an upscale chain that my family didn’t usually visit, since they were (in our opinion) massively overpriced. Maybe that was true in general, but judging from Ms. Terri’s milk, I supposed that they had a least a few products where the higher price was justified by higher quality.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t seen which brand Terri used, since she’d put it in a pitcher for serving. I spent a somewhat obscene amount of my limited money buying the three most expensive types of milk the store sold. They were ittedly better than the brand from our regular supermarket, but none were even close to the almost magical taste of Ms. Terri’s milk, wherever it had actually come from.

I finally broke down enough to switch back to my old jogging route, but I didn’t see her outside on any of those days. I took to lurking about the house and peeking out the windows in case she emerged, feeling like a stalker but unable to bring myself to just knock on her door. I did see a number of attractive women visiting her, which I assumed were the models she’d mentioned, although most of them seemed to spend the night, so I wasn’t entirely sure.

Finally, almost two weeks after our last awkward encounter, I saw Terri in her back yard, wearing a robe and awkwardly trying to place a beach towel on one of the lounge chairs by her pool. She also had that metal carafe on a side table, and I salivated just seeing it, even though I figured it was more likely to be filled with daiquiris or margaritas than delicious mystery milk. I hurried downstairs and outside, just in time too see her getting things smoothed out. “Hello!” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too awkward. “Beautiful day!” I cringed inwardly.

“Oh, hello Taney!” Terri said warmly. “Haven’t seen you in a while! I’ve been really busy with work, so I apologize!”

I was a little amazed that she seemed to be blaming herself when I was the one avoiding her. “That’s okay,” I said reflexively. “Gonna go swimming?” I asked a few moments later, struggling to come up with something to talk about.

“I wish!” Terri replied wistfully. “I still have this cast for another two weeks, and I’m not supposed to get it wet. I have to put a bag over it just to shower.” She held up the irritation in question, scowling at it. “No, I’ll just be sunning myself today.”

“That’s too bad,” I said. After another awkward pause, I stammered, “Well, I was just gonna do some chores here in the yard. Like, uh, trimming. So I’ll be around if you need any help. Uh, with sunning.” I could feel how red my face was, and I was mentally whipping myself for acting like a teenager with a crush. An idiotic teenager, at that. “Zero chill, Taney! Zero fucking chill!” I muttered under my breath.

“Actually, there is something I could use your help with, if it’s not too much to ask.” I looked through the chain link fence, eagerly at first, then uncomfortably when I saw she was holding up a bottle of either sunscreen or tanning oil. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the idea. Dread and embarrassment were there, but my nipples also got hard at the thought of running my hands over so much of her body. Mechanically, I walked to the small gates, set right next to each other, that let me out of my yard and into hers.

“Thanks a million, Taney!” said Terri as she handed me the bottle of sunscreen. “It’s almost impossible to get even coverage with just one good arm!”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, then gasped when she shrugged off her robe. Wearing it had been the most coverage I’d ever seen her with, so I probably shouldn’t have been surprised that she was nearly naked underneath. Her red bikini consisted of two tiny triangles that didn’t fully conceal her large areolas, a brown shade much darker than her moderately tanned skin. The tiny that somewhat covered her crotch made it obvious that she was completely shaved. I was sure it had to be a thong that disappeared into the crack of her ass, although I didn’t get visual confirmation of my guess for a few minutes.

“I’ll take your expression as a compliment,” Terri said, almost purring. “You can get started whenever you’re done staring.” She held her arms out from her sides a bit and turned slightly, almost as if she were posing. I swallowed thickly and forced myself to concentrate on the bottle of lotion, worried that I’d embarrass myself further by squeezing too hard and making a mess.

I decided to start on Terri’s shoulders, since that seemed to be the least intimate place, at least while I was standing in front of her. I squeezed a reasonable amount into one hand and reached for her, but she stopped me and said, “How about we get the most awkward part done first. That way, it’ll all be downhill afterwards.” I looked at her quizzically and she clarified, “Oil up my tits first, darling.”

I gulped and stared into her eyes, sure at first that she must be joking or teasing, but her expression was that steady, almost-smirking smile I was getting accustomed to. I looked back and forth between her face and her breasts several times, hoping and fearing that she might change her mind. After a while she took the bottle back from me, squeezed some into my other hand, and set it aside. She then grabbed my arms as best she was able and brought my hands to her chest. “Go ahead and play with them a little, if you want to,” she said, her voice low and sultry.

Almost against my will, my hands started moving. At first it was relatively tame, just spreading the sunscreen around on the sides and top. Then my hands went underneath and I hefted her heavy tits, weighing them while staring at her almost-visible nubs tenting the tiny scraps of cloth. Eventually my fingers crawled slowly toward those enticing nipples. I kept waiting for her to object, but if anything she seemed eager, and I finally, shyly, rubbed the bumpy flesh of her areolas before giving a quick, nervous pinch to her teats.

I jumped, shocked at my impertinence and audacity, and whipped my hands away. I grabbed the bottle and squirted more into my hand, a generous amount that I then rubbed between my palms and began applying to the rest of Terri’s body. She had been right, though. Despite blushing so hard I probably looked sunburned, I was able to run my hands all over her with minimal interruption or hesitation. I started out doing it fast and methodically, but by the time I reached her thighs it was getting sensual again, and when I crouched behind her to oil up her wide, eye-catching ass, I was undeniably massaging her as much as anything else. I was shamefully reluctant to stop, but couldn’t bear to acknowledge my feelings by saying anything.

“That must have been thirsty work,” Terri said, looking down at me over her shoulder and smirking, although it didn’t feel like she was teasing me in a mean way. If anything, it felt flirtatious. I swallowed and nodded, looking up at her. “Would you like a drink?”

“A smoothie?” I asked, feeling just how dry my mouth was. “Or some milk?”

“I used the last of my milk this morning to make that pitcher,” she said, pointing at the metal carafe I’d noticed from the window, but her tone of voice was apologetic. “I’m afraid it’s White Russians, not a smoothie.”

I wasn’t exactly a stranger to alcohol, despite being only twenty still, but at school it was mostly beer and wine that got ed around at parties, with the occasional mixer. I knew a White Russian was a kind of drink, but didn’t know what was in it. Aside, apparently, from Terri’s delicious milk. I said as much and she explained her recipe. “It’s actually pretty weak, really, since I’m not much of a drinker. Normally the vodka is about half and the milk or cream is three parts, but this one is more like two parts vodka and six parts milk.”

“Um, sure, I guess I’ll have one,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant and avoid visibly salivating. Part of my mind, which sounded almost like mom in my head, was telling me that I shouldn’t be drinking, especially not with the neighbor in the middle of the day. But Terri made it sound like the alcohol was more of a spritz than an ingredient, so I convinced myself that having one little drink would be fine. In truth, I could barely taste anything but the wonderful milk, which is probably why she and I finished off the pitcher together in a very short time.

“I think I might be drunk,” I confessed, giggling much more than I usually did. We were seated side by side on her lounge chair, with our arms and legs touching. Her skin felt almost feverish, although I guessed that might just be thanks to sitting in the sun. I kept staring at Terri, either her face or her tits, with what I expected was a stupid smile plastered on my face.

“I think you might be drunk, too!” Terri said, also giggling and booping my nose with one of the fingers sticking out of her cast. “Me, too! We two! Two drunk! Or too drunk?”

“What?” I mumbled, not alert enough at the time to figure out her wordplay.

“You’re sweating a lot!” Terri said, apparently changing the subject. “You must be burning up in all those clothes!”

“What?” I muttered again, looking down at myself. Granted, I was wearing a lot more than her, with jean shorts and a light tee, plus underwear. Still, it hardly seemed like too much for a summer day. Although, when she mentioned it, I had to agree that I felt extremely hot and was having trouble breathing. I started fanning my face with my hand and puffing, almost as if I’d been exercising. “Actually, I do feel kinda warm,” I itted.

“Why don’t you take a dip in the pool to cool off,” Terri suggested. “I have extra towels.”

“Um… I don’t have a swimsuit,” I said, staring at her barely contained tits once more. I had some back at home, of course, but in my addled state I wasn’t thinking about that.

“That’s okay, it’s just us girls here,” she replied, turning and pressing her breasts against my arm. “I won’t tell your mom if you go skinny-dipping!” she whispered, sounding excited and eager.

“I… I can’t!” was my automatic answer. I was mortified that she would even suggest it. Granted, we couldn’t be seen from the street or from the row of houses behind ours, but only chain link fences separated the yards of the six houses on our side of the street. Most people probably weren’t home, but it was broad daylight, and the thought of being witnessed was terrifying.

Terri pouted a little but then grinned again, saying, “You’re right, it’s probably awkward for you to get naked in front of me while I’m dressed.”

“If you call that being dressed,” I replied, out loud instead of just in my head, like I’d intended.

Terri gave me a devious look and said, “Of course this is being dressed.” She then tugged on the strings of her top and it fluttered away, revealing her turgid brown nipples to me, apparently completely unashamed and unworried about who might be spying on us. She did the same with her bottoms, although I couldn’t spare any attention to look lower than her chest. “See? Now I’m undressed.”

“Buh?” was my intelligent response.

“Now it’s your turn!” Terri declared. Although I kind of wanted to refuse, I provided no resistance as she tugged off my shirt. Her breasts mashed against my own as she pressed close, reaching behind me with her good arm and struggling to undo the clasp of my bra. “It’s really hard to do this with just your off hand!” she said, blushing cutely. “Ah-ha!” she exclaimed when she finally succeeded in exposing my chest.

I was blushing profusely and gasping for air, but I made no move to cover myself. Watching her stare at my breasts, enraptured, was making me feel even hotter than when I was fully dressed. I was finally starting to accept the reality that I might, possibly, have developed a sexual interest in my older, female neighbor, despite my assumption that I was decidedly heterosexual.

“With boobs like these, your nickname should really be Titties, Titania,” Terri said, feeling me up. “How can you stand to run with these things?” she asked quietly, probably rhetorically. She was lightly pinching my little pink nipples, evidently curious about how long they’d get when completely stiff. I wasn’t sure myself, although they were harder and longer than I could ever seeing them before.

“Let’s get these off, too,” Terri eventually said, grasping the loops on my shorts. My modesty still wasn’t able to mount a resistance to her demands, and I even raised my butt a little to make it easier for her to pull them down, along with my panties. I kept my thighs close together, though, and gripped them with my hands, as if I needed to physically prevent them from falling open and revealing my charms.

Terri smiled as she ran her good hand up and down my legs, cooing softly. She stared at what was visible of my bush, but she didn’t try to touch it or make me give her a better view. I told myself that doing so would be a line too far and that I’d refuse. I wasn’t entirely certain that would turn out to be true, if she forced the issue, but fortunately for my sanity she seemed content with getting me naked.

“Let’s get in the pool,” Terri suggested. “I can’t really go swimming, but I can play around in the shallow end while you do some laps, or whatever you prefer.” She was speaking softly and seductively, offering me her good hand once she’d gotten back to her feet. I looked her up and down, drinking in her nudity, before I allowed her to pull me up from the lounge chair.

Aside from the lack of swimsuits, splashing around with Terri wasn’t that much different from any other time I’d been to a private pool. She was very free about touching me whenever I came close, and after some initial hesitation I started giving her extra opportunities. She didn’t quite go far enough to make me feel molested, but her wandering hand did discover a few places where, previously, only a couple of boys had been allowed to explore.

When Terri noticed that my permanent blush was being overtaken by the pinkness of sun exposure, she insisted on putting sunscreen all over me. I resisted, but only feebly. It took her a little while to coat me thoroughly, given she had to use her left hand only, but it was the most erotic experience of my life to that point. She started with my back and butt, which was vaguely exciting, but she pressed herself against me from behind while working on my chest and belly. The feeling of her heavy, sweaty tits pressing into my back was intoxicating, and the gentle thrusting of her hips made it feel almost as if she were fucking me standing up. My sex had gotten hot and swollen, and I longed for something, anything, to be inside it. For better or for worse, that was about the only part of me she didn’t touch.

We swam and lounged for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon before there was an interruption. I reflexively curled into a ball, thinking that someone had intruded, only belatedly ing that the back yard where we were prancing around naked was not as private as it had seemed in my tipsy, lust-addled stupor. “Relax!” Terri said, giggling a little at my embarrassment. “It’s just a delivery notice. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere!” She got up and sauntered into her house still naked, with my eyes following her large, bouncing ass until it was out of sight.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” I muttered, gathering up my clothes and getting dressed. A glance at my phone showed me that it would only be an hour or so until I could expect my parents to get home. I fidgeted, wanting to leave and take a shower and make myself presentable, but also not wanting to disappear before Terri got back. After all, she’d asked me not to leave yet. Perhaps she expected she might need help with whatever it was that had been delivered.

As it turned out, she didn’t require assistance. About ten minutes later she came back out, still naked, carrying a tray with two large glasses on it. She looked slightly disappointed to see me clothed again, but lowered the tray with a big smile and said, “I got some more milk! I made us some milkshakes to help beat the heat!”

I wanted to decline, but the smell was too enticing. I mumbled some words of thanks and took the one closest to me, greedily guzzling it. Terri drank hers a bit more sedately, but seeing her with a milk mustache of her own made me a little less self-conscious about being so sloppy when I was around her. When I was about half-done, having to pause periodically thanks to how cold it was, I found the wits to ask her, “Where do you get this mystery milk? I tried to find it at the fancy store, but I couldn’t.”

Terri gave me an amused smirk and said, “Oh, no, it’s not sold in stores. Special delivery only, from a very small but prestigious dairy. It’s not even really sold at all, usually, I just happen to be friendly with the owner and she indulges me.” I was disappointed to learn that it was so rare and hard to obtain, but at least now I knew why I hadn’t been able to find it.

I finally stumbled home, no longer drunk on vodka, but intoxicated in a different way by Terri and her delicious dairy delights. I was giggling as I stripped back down again and got in the shower. I didn’t even try to lie to myself anymore, picturing my neighbor’s bountiful curves, and the feel of them in my hands, while I pleasured myself until the water ran cold.

Chapter 4

By the following morning, I was wrestling with the idea that I might be getting addicted to both Terri and her milk. Or at least, my craving for the flavor of her specialty dairy product was insistent and persistent. As for the woman herself, I didn’t think I was falling in love, or at least not in any romantic sense. But I was obviously deeply attracted to her, casting strong doubts on my presumed heterosexuality, and I definitely wanted to see and feel her again, and have her do the same to me. I cringed at the thought, but I honestly wanted to fuck her, or have her fuck me, or something like that. It took me a whole day to come to with my revelations and decide to follow my instincts.

When I saw Terri lounging by her pool again the day after I hid away reexamining my life, I resolved to act more like an adult around her. Now that I was at peace, more or less, with my attraction to her, I thought that I should take a more active role in showing her I was okay with her attention and affection. At least, I certainly believed that she was lusting for me, as well, even if she was handling it more maturely.

“Hey, Terri!” I called out from my back porch. “Catching some more rays? Need help with your lotion?” I managed to say it all with only one or two hitches in my voice to betray my nervousness.

“Oh, hello again, Taney!” she replied. “I’d be happy for your assistance! I did the best I could, but I’m sure I missed a few spots!”

“No worries, I’ll be right over!” I said. I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves for the planned seduction. She was in a different tiny bikini, a yellowish-orange color but cut the same way. I tried to split the difference between idiotic staring and creepy leering, hoping to convey something that resembled honest appreciation of her beauty. That’s what I told myself I saw in her face when she ired my body, although it honestly did sometimes look like she was boorishly ogling me.

I decided to start with Terri’s shoulders again, but hesitated for only a second or two before massaging the lotion into the bulging mounds of her breasts as I worked my way down. Sliding off to her sides while she was on her back, the tiny triangles did an even more inadequate job of covering her nipples. We smiled at one another when I pinched them a few times, but said nothing. She hummed quietly while my hands rubbed her belly and then her thighs. Before I could move lower, though, she quietly asked, “Would you put a little bit on my mound, please? I got the tiniest bit of a burn there from last time. Wanna be prepared, just in case!” She was wearing sunglasses, but I felt sure she winked.

I wasn’t entirely prepared for the request, but it excited me. “Be calm!” I whispered to myself, too quietly for her to hear. “You wanted it to happen eventually! Well, this time it was sooner rather than later!” I let the tips of my fingers invade both sides of her tiny bikini bottom, feeling the smooth skin of her pudenda. There was no trace of stubble, so I figured she’d shaved that morning, or perhaps had done something more permanent. I’d tried shaving my bush off when I was younger, but my skin was sensitive and usually developed a rash, which was less comfortable and, I felt, less attractive than my thatch of hair. Her skin felt far more silky than I’d ever managed. I wondered what her secret was.

I let my touch extend until I just barely felt Terri’s skin start puckering into her labia before withdrawing. I was pleased to see that she was breathing heavily and hoped that we might take things farther soon. For the time being I finished her front and said, “Roll over and I’ll get the rest of you.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Terri replied playfully, flipping herself around and treating me to a delightful view of her rear end wobbling majestically. This time I worked my way up from her feet, spending a lot of time running my hands back and forth, especially around her hips and butt. I even found the courage or impertinence to kiss each globe once as I ed, making her giggle. I straddled Terri to work the oil into her back and shoulders, making her moan lustfully. The sound went straight to my sex, and I couldn’t prevent my hips from moving back and forth, just slightly, against the curves of her ass.

The possibility of an audience was far from my thoughts until I heard a lawnmower roar to life. Startled, I looked up and saw one of the neighbors in his back yard, down at the far end of the street. I let out a terrified squeak and jumped off of Terri, nearly falling into the pool in the process. I quickly laid down on the adjacent lounge chair, my lust replaced by fear and anxiety. There was no reason to suspect that the man had witnessed what I was doing, and he was pretty far away all things considered, but it threw cold water on my uncharacteristic wantonness.

“That was lovely, thank you so much!” Terri murmured, either unaware of my fright or choosing not to acknowledge it. “Let me know if you need help getting oiled up. And feel free to have a drink! You know what I serve.” My emotions were running high, and while my better judgment told me that alcohol wasn’t the answer, I eventually convinced myself it would help calm my nerves. I poured myself a tumbler of her favorite milky concoction and tried to pace myself.

By the time the guy down the street was done with his lawn I was well on my way to being drunk again, and my bold plan was starting to seem exciting rather than humiliating once more. Terri was visibly tipsy as well, and in the middle of a mundane conversation about a show we both enjoyed, I suddenly announced, “I’m feeling hot. Think I’ll go swimming.”

Relying heavily on the bravado granted by alcohol, I stood up and removed my shirt while facing my new friend, letting my heavy breasts bounce free. Terri had probably noticed that I wasn’t wearing a real bra, but I was hoping she might have been expecting a swimsuit underneath. I’m not sure if she was surprised, but she was clearly delighted. I then shimmied out of my shorts, fluffed my bush a little, and turned to walk into the pool as seductively as I could manage. I wish I’d learned to slink, like some women can do, but my body wasn’t exactly built for that kind of delicate grace. I guess I did well enough, though, because I looked back as I started to swim and saw her staring at me over her sunglasses, her sexual hunger easy to recognize. It made me feel so womanly and desirable that I almost had an orgasm right there in the pool, with no touching except the caress of water.

Since Terri couldn’t really me I didn’t swim for very long, perhaps just five minutes of various strokes to show off my body. I was shivering when I finally emerged, and not from being cold, although the light breeze on my wet flesh did give me chills of a slightly different sort. “Maybe we should head on into the house for a while and get out of the sun,” Terri suggested, her voice sounding kind of dry and husky. I waved my arm to suggest that she lead the way, but she linked her arm in mine and we walked side by side. I had a moment of hesitation about leaving my clothes outside, but I didn’t want to break whatever spell we seemed to be under.

Once the sliding door was shut, Terri turned to face me and wrapped her arms around my neck, standing on tip-toe to bring her face closer to mine. I place my hands on her hips and bent my head down, putting my lips only inches away from hers. Our skin felt even warmer inside the air conditioned house than it had under the sky. I could smell a hint of vodka and slightly soured milk on her breath as I waited to see if she would close the remaining distance, or if she was testing to see if I would take what I wanted. I eventually succumbed to impatience and initiated a kiss for the first time in my life, whether with a man or a woman.

It was everything I’d been imagining for the past two days and more. Her lips and skin were so soft and smooth, and her tongue so agile, compared to what I’d known before. I hoped that I was acquitting myself well, and from the small happy sounds she was making, I thought that I was. Her hands strayed slightly from my neck, the good one twining itself in my hair while the arm in the cast traveled down my back to loosely grip my ass, the best she could manage while still healing.

“I don’t mean to be crude,” Terri said breathlessly, after many long minutes of making out, “But I have been wanting to suck on these big, beautiful titties of yours since the first time you stepped into my house.” The word still made me shiver with arousal, which I’m sure she felt. Rather than answer her, I took one of my hands from her ass (when had I started groping it?) and used it to offer my titty to her hungry lips. She smiled and suckled, looking me directly in the eyes.

I was no stranger to having my nipples sucked. As Terri had noticed, my breasts were large, although my wide shoulders and height probably made them look reasonably proportional to my frame. But my previous boyfriends had all been pleased to see them and happy to play with them as much as I’d allow. It had generally been pleasurable to me, but I can only describe the feeling Terri gave me as ecstatic. It was almost as intense as having someone lick my clit, except that I had two nipples for her to toy with. My knees started getting weak as I approached an improbable orgasm just from the titty-sucking. Terri noticed and slowly directed me toward the -through to her living room, where we collapsed on her couch.

Without having to devote attention to remaining upright, my pleasure took over and I moaned shamelessly, squirming and writhing against the soft suede of the divan. Her wrapped hand came to rest on my thigh rather possessively, and my legs fell open to her touch, although she didn’t yet take the invitation. “Oh, God!” I cried out as I started to cum, followed by a kind of warbling wail as small, individual peaks of delight popped through my consciousness, coinciding with little bites and nibbles Terri was giving my titties. I felt hot wetness leaking through my butt-crack and turning into a wet spot under my ass, but didn’t think anything about it at the time.

“That was… unreal,” I said when my breathing was somewhat back to normal. “Thank you. I’ve never experienced anything like that.”

“It was my pleasure, darling,” Terri said, lightly stroking my belly and still playing with my hair. “I hope you’re not a ‘one and done’ kind of girl, though. I’d like to enjoy you for at least several more hours!”

“That sounds like a good plan to me,” I replied, leaning up to give her a kiss. “I need to recharge a little bit first, though. Do you have anything I could drink? Maybe some more milk?” I couldn’t keep the hopeful tone out of my voice, but having just creamed myself while she sucked my titties, it didn’t seem like something I should be embarrassed about anymore.

“Well, I’m all out of the cold stuff,” Terri said with a sly smile. “But I do have some I wouldn’t mind sharing with you, if you don’t mind it warm.”

“You mean like in coffee? Or a hot toddy?” I asked, slightly perplexed.

“More like a hot titty,” she replied, gently pulling my face to her breast. I supposed that she wanted me to return the favor before we got up to get refreshments, and I was more than willing to do so, though I doubted I could drive her to orgasm that way. After a few seconds of suckling, however, my eyes went wide as I realized the truth. A warm splash of familiar, delicious milk landed on my tongue. I reflexively swallowed and groaned with pleasure, but I had to disengage, the shock of what happened enough to break the spell for a moment.

“You’re lactating?” I exclaimed. “You’ve been feeding me your breastmilk?!”

“And you’ve been loving it!” Terri agreed, booping me on the nose again. “You can barely get enough of it, you greedy little girl!” She was smiling widely the whole time while I stared at her, partly aghast and partly eager to return to her tit.

“This isn’t right,” I mumbled, licking my lips and finding a few stray drops of her milk to enjoy.

“Oh, don’t be silly!” she said, hefting her tit with her injured hand and offering it to me again. “It’s obviously perfectly healthy for human consumption. And it’s not like I have a baby who needs it, so there’s no need to feel guilty. I can give my boob juice to whomever I want.” Terri’s eyes went half-lidded and her voice got lower, almost growling, as she added, “And I very much want you to drain my tits, Ms. Titties.”

I whimpered, frozen between desire and mortification. I was already dangerously far beyond the boundaries of what I had considered, only a couple of weeks previously, to be proper behavior for a young lady. It was just barely within the scope of my worldview that I could engage in a college-age lesbian fling with an experienced older woman. But suckling milk from her tits was so far outside the pale it was somewhere in the next county. Nevertheless, my eyes couldn’t stray far from Terri’s face or her breasts. When a bead of milk formed on her thick, glistening nipple, I was lost. With a pathetic whine, I let myself be pulled back to her bosom.

“Such a good girl!” Terri said, stroking my hair. “Such a good, strong girl, drinking her milk to get even stronger and better!” She continued to murmur similar things while I nursed, but I barely paid attention to any of them. The soothing murmur of her voice, combined with the delicious taste and warmth of her produce, lulled me into a kind of trance. At some point she helped me crawl into her lap, and I became dimly aware that I had a hand in my pussy, fingering myself absently. The only thing that interrupted my hazy reverie was when I had to switch to the other breast, but that was a matter of seconds.

I think I slept, or at least my brain didn’t record the input of my senses for a while. When I came to I was still reclined on the couch with my head and shoulders in Terri’s lap. She was staring down at me with a smile, her good left hand in my hair while it right one gently played with my nipples. “Welcome back, my beautiful Titty Baby!” she cooed.

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered, shivering with shameful arousal at the degrading nickname. “I think I prefer Titania.”

“Maybe someday you’ll grow into such a distinguished name,” Terri said. “But looking at the mess you made of my couch and the belly full of boob-milk you drank, I think Titty Baby is much more befitting.” I then noticed that I was still playing with myself, the fingers squelching loudly in my pussy juices. I whipped my hand away, but I could feel a large, cold, wet spot beneath my buttocks.

“I’m… I’m so sorry!” I said in a tiny voice, more humiliated than I could ever being. The confident young woman who had come over with the intent of seducing her somewhat older neighbor was gone, and I wondered if I could ever be her again. Instead, I was diminished and demeaned, the sexual plaything of a gently dominant woman who was pampering me even after my disgrace. “Titty Baby is sorry!” I said more loudly, almost wailing.

“Shush shush shush,” Terri said, putting a finger on my lips. “It’s okay, Titty Baby! I love feeding you my milk, and the couch can be cleaned. We’ll just have to be more careful at your next feeding.”

“My next feeding?” I asked, feeling excited anticipation and existential dread.

“Oh, yes!” Terri said. “At least once a day to start with, I should think. How about you come over tomorrow morning after your parents leave? I should have two big, full tits for your breakfast!”

She didn’t exactly kick me out of her house after that announcement, but she explained that a client was due to be arriving a little later and she needed to prepare. She loaned me an exceptionally slutty dress to wear, since my own clothes were still out by the pool. It would have been very short on her, but with my extra height it could only cover my breasts and privates at the same time if I was standing very still and barely breathing. Fortunately, I only had to wear it long enough to get my things and scurry inside, but the potential exposure was back to being terrifying despite the thrill. Nevertheless, I kept it on until my parents got home, masturbating while watching myself in the mirror and muttering my new nickname.

Chapter 5

I slept naked, which was unusual for me, and woke up in the middle of the night needing to change my sheets. I hadn’t pissed myself, thank God, but my pussy was leaking so much that the wet spot seemed to cover half the mattress. I put new linens down and tucked a towel between my legs, just as a precaution, since I would surely stop producing so much juice soon. I even fingered myself to another orgasm to ensure that my arousal would subside.

Things didn’t quite work out as I’d hoped, but the sodden towel had at least kept most of my lubricant from making another big mess. I shook my head as I tossed it in the hamper, then took a long, cold shower to try and tame my libido. I resisted the urge to play with myself, despite how long I had to stay in there while waiting for mom and dad to depart. Once they were gone I got out and dried off, shivering and covered with goosebumps, but still feeling hot in my core.

I hesitated about what to wear for my visit next door. Part of me wanted to put on my thickest, least attractive panties, especially since it seemed like I might well soak them to ruins. Instead, I pulled out one of the few skirts I owned and fastened it around my hips with nothing on underneath. My titties were treated likewise, covered with a thin tank-top and nothing else, leaving them practically exposed. Although I’d warmed back up after my frigid rinse, I was shivering and bumpy again as I walked to Terri’s kitchen door and let myself in.

“Good morning, Titty Baby!” Terri called out from the living room, peeking her head around the -through. “My client left about an hour ago, so it’ll just be us for breakfast!” I was more curious and concerned than ever about the true nature of her so-called ‘clients’, beginning to think she might be an escort or something, but I padded through the doorway obediently, to be greeted by the sight of her sitting up on the couch, breasts gloriously exposed, with a large towel laid out on the cushions to her left. “Have a seat, darling!” she said, patting her thigh.

I whimpered a little, clenching my own thighs together reflexively, and mumbled, “Okay,” as I approached her.

“Clothes off, Titty Baby!” she reminded me, and I automatically started stripping, not that it took long with as little as I was wearing. Once I was naked she allowed me to sit down on the towel, with my head once again in her lap. I could see beads of moisture forming on her nipples, and I licked my lips with anticipation. My body was on fire with lust and shame, but my belly was rumbling, demanding more milk, and the consequences be damned.

I blissed out once Terri’s teat was in my mouth. I reached up to squeeze her huge tit with both hands, forcing the milk to come out faster and harder. Her good arm was tickling my pubes and exploring their general vicinity while the other one was stroking my hair. Mentally, I barely paid attention to the fact that she’d started fingering my pussy, although my body reacted with enthusiasm to her deft touch. Looking back, she’d probably driven me to at least one climax while I nursed, but the euphoria of feeding from her breasts was so orgasmic on its own that I couldn’t really discern any peaks, just a continuous, rolling high.

When my brain started functioning properly again, Terri was stroking my forehead and staring down at me with a smirk that seemed somewhat flirty but also condescending. “It looks like the towel wasn’t quite up to the task,” she said, almost amused. “You and your drippy cunt made another mess!”

I wanted to vanish, and my face screwed up as if I were going to cry. A strangled whine tried to escape my throat, turning into a choking growl as I suppressed my irrational, humiliating urge to start wailing. “I’m sorry, Terri!” I finally managed to say, in a voice that seemed too small to be my own, no matter how contrite I felt. “I’ll clean it up!”

Terri scooted to the end of the couch to let me work, and I noticed for the first time that she was completely naked as well. It eased my embarrassment the tiniest little bit to see that we were equally nude, but there was no question that she was in charge. I felt meek and deferential to her, not to mention hungry for more than just her tits. If she told me to get down on my knees and lick her, I would have, and happily. But instead, once my mess was reduced to a floral-smelling dampness from fabric cleaner, she asked me to head home. “I’ve got a lot to do today,” Terri explained, “Not the least of which is deciding what to do about that juicy little pussy you’ve got, preferably before your next feeding.”

I certainly wasn’t going to disobey her, so I got dressed and went home, where I fidgeted with nervous energy for a while before going on a very long, exhausting run. My jogging outfit for the day was scandalously brief: thin shorts with no panties and just my sports bra to contain my titties, with nipples that seemed permanently hard and on display lately. The stares of people I encountered, whether incredulous, offended, or leering, all seemed to go straight to my sex. My flimsy bottom was thoroughly soaked long before I worked up a real sweat. That evening was basically the same as the one before, except I went to bed with a towel under me and one between my legs.

“Good morning, Titty Baby!” said Terri again, when I walked into her living room the next morning and started stripping. She was kneeling next to her coffee table and indicated she wanted me to lie down on it, which I obliged. “I finally figured out just the thing to keep your sloppy cunt from spilling everywhere!” she said brightly, making me cringe. I recoiled slightly when she moved around the table toward my hips, wondering what her plan was. It soon became obvious that she intended to put a thick, adult-sized diaper on me.

“No!” I said, wanting to yell the word assertively, but instead it emerged as a choked whisper. Terri simply smiled at me again as she proceeded to slide the humiliating garment under my ass, coated me generously with what I assumed was talcum powder, and fastened it in place with a comically large safety pin.

“There we go, Titty Baby!” said Terri, rubbing my belly as a reward for behaving. “That’s an all-day diaper, so it should hopefully manage to keep your slutty juices contained until this evening!” She started crawling back toward my head as she added, “You can come back by around dinner-time if you feel like you need to be changed, though.” She gave me a kiss on the forehead and hefted one of her tits toward my face.

“Terri, please, don’t do this to me!” I begged quietly. I even let some tears build up in my eyes, since crying seemed much less demeaning than being diapered.

“Oh, hush, Titty Baby! Be a good girl and eat your breakfast!” She stopped any further protests or pleas I might have made by placing the nipple in my mouth, and the mere taste of her skin was enough to silence me as I started suckling. “Also, since I’m breast-feeding you and will be changing your soggy diapers, I think you should call me ‘Mommy’ from now on. Having you on a first-name basis with me doesn’t feel appropriate anymore.” I whimpered while feeding, but knew I would do as Mommy told me.

Each subsequent day brought a new form of debasement. Although the diapers worked as intended, soaking up my juices before they could cause a mess, Mommy insisted that I not sit on the furniture or rugs, just in case. Then she wanted me to crawl everywhere when I was at her house. “It just seems weird to have such a tall baby!” she teased, pushing my shoulders until I was on my hands and knees.

When her cast came off, Mommy declared, “Now I can finally take care of you properly!” I went to her house after dinner for my evening diaper change, but instead of the normal proceedings she told me to sit on the commode. I was afraid for a moment that she was going to pretend to toilet train me, which would indeed have been another new low for my self-respect (even if it might have resulted in abandoning the diaper), but the lid was down.

“It’s hard to keep you properly dry and powdered with this big old bush in the way,” Mommy explained, making an exaggerated expression of disgust at feeling the juice-slicked hairs. “So it’s time to get rid of it!” I shook my head and whimpered, eyes watering, but that was as close to protesting as I could get. I had to sit there and watch her shave me, then spread a depilatory cream all over my mound and surrounding areas, and finally powder me and put me back in my diaper. I was light-headed from extreme mortification by the time she was done, but also desperate for an orgasm. Mommy often fingered me while I nursed, but I had to take care of my own urges the rest of the time. I tried to crawl to the back door, where my shoes and clothes were abandoned, but I couldn’t make it ten feet before my hand was rubbing over my silky smooth mound and my fingers were on my clit.

“Such a naughty girl, Titty Baby!” said Mommy, but she definitely wasn’t upset. It almost seemed like she had been waiting for my spirit to break in such a way, because she soon rolled me over and started sucking on my titties and petting my hair. I cried out when I came, shuddering and convulsing with the strength of my climax. “Looks like I might need to change you again!” she teased.

Chapter 6

Although I’d managed to keep my activities largely concealed from my mom and dad, they couldn’t help but notice changes in my behavior, not to mention how I dressed and how I carried myself. I never wore a bra anymore, and naturally my panties had been useless ever since the diapering began. I was usually either pale with anxiety or flushed with lust, so they often asked me if I was ill, especially since my interest in other foods was very minimal, thanks to the amount of Mommy’s wonderful breastmilk I was drinking.

The facade of normalcy was finally ruptured during the Fourth of July holiday. I’d gotten used to being fairly discreet on the weekends when my parents were around, but it slipped my mind that the school would be closed and my mother would be home. She left at her usual time, but only to run some errands, and I didn’t notice her car when I walked back into the house topless.

“Titania Lucretia MacMillan!” my mother screeched. “What on Earth has gotten into you?!”

I froze, completely unable to think of any kind of excuse, believable or otherwise. Mom wasn’t my Mommy, at least not anymore, but it still felt very wrong to lie to her, even if it might have spared me a fresh bout of humiliation. I finally just blurted out part of the truth. “I was visiting… the next door neighbor,” I said.

“You were with Ms. Terri again?” she asked, perplexed. “Why would you take your shirt off for that?”

“She likes to suck on my titties while I masturbate,” I itted automatically. Seeing the expression on my mother’s face almost literally killed me. My heart stopped beating, or at least I couldn’t feel it for a little while.

“She does what while you what?” my mom muttered, then repeated it in a painfully loud voice.

It was like a dam broke then, and pretty much the whole story spilled out. “Usually, after Mommy breastfeeds me or changes me, I get really horny and need to cum. Sometimes she uses her fingers, but other times she likes to watch me do it to myself. She says my titties are almost as nice as hers. She also said she has spent so much money on my diapers that I have to start paying her back with my tongue. I’m supposed to be watching videos so I know how to lick pussy right. May I be excused?”

Well, that lengthy confession certainly didn’t help matters. Mom still wanted to believe I was playing some kind of elaborate prank, so after yelling and screaming at me for a while she called Mommy. From the way her face changed during the conversation, it was obvious that my story was being confirmed. Mom eventually disconnected the call without saying another word and just stared at me. After a while she sent me to my room, but confiscated my phone and computer.

When dad got home the whole shit-show got even more wild. He was enraged and went out onto the porch, yelling across the yard at Mommy and making various threats. She didn’t emerge to indulge him with a shouting match, though, so he came back inside to scream at me some more. He looked like he wanted to hit me but couldn’t bring himself to do it. I still loved him and mom, of course, and I was bawling like a baby about hurting them so much (if you’ll pardon the expression). They finally calmed down a bit and were discussing whether they should send me to a therapist or have me committed straight away. Before they could reach a decision, though, the matter was taken out of their hands.

Mommy had called the police on my dad, having apparently recorded him screaming threats and obscenities at her. He tried to explain the situation to the cops, and while they seemed slightly concerned, when they found out I was twenty and claimed to be fully consenting, they decided to wash their hands of my affairs. Dad was a different matter, though, and he was arrested, somewhat apologetically, because that was apparently the rule in domestic disputes or whatever they called it. Before they took him to the station, dad told me, bluntly, that I was either going to a mental hospital or out on the street. “I’ll be back sometime tomorrow,” he said darkly. “You’d better not be here.”

Mom was a wreck, but affirmed that she couldn’t stand to look at me just then either. “If you’re willing to get help, we’ll figure something out. But if you think it’s your right to behave like that, then this is no longer your home until you come to your senses.” We were both crying as she spoke, and I gave her a hug at the end, or tried to; she flinched away from my touch, even though I’d put my flimsy shirt back on long ago.

Alone in my room, my mind was made up quite quickly. A brief text to Mommy confirmed that she was willing to take me in, so I packed up some of my things and walked out without saying goodbye.

“You poor thing!” Mommy said, meeting me at the back door and giving me a hug. “I’m so sorry, Titty Baby!” She held me, swaying gently as I broke down into tears again, cooing and telling me things would get better soon.

For a change, I was allowed to walk through the house upright and fully clothed… or at least, as dressed as I ever got anymore. “Now, I have to warn you, my guest room is set up as a studio, with all those props you helped me move in a month ago. So it may seem a little strange at first, but we can figure out something more long-term tomorrow.” Opening the door of the formerly empty room, I had to stop and stare, disconcerted.

Aside from the photo and video equipment, it looked like a bizarre, over-sized nursery. There was a giant crib surrounding what looked like a full-sized mattress, with a giant teddy bear at the foot. Various toys were scattered around, similarly scaled up, and a rack near the window held an array of what I assumed were costumes. The only thing out of place for an actual nursery was a large selection of sex toys, neatly displayed on a rolling cart.

I turned to look at Mommy and said, astonished, “You really are a porn star!” She looked at me for a moment, seeming equally surprised, and then burst out into laughter.

Calming down eventually, Mommy replied, “I’m not a porn star! I do work with several of them, though. I stay behind the camera and help them make custom content for a, shall we say, select clientele.”

“Are you going to fuck them in front of me?” I asked, swallowing nervously. “Or make me fuck them?”

“Oh, poor Titty Baby!” she exclaimed, giving me another hug. “Are you feeling jealous?”

“A little bit,” I itted. “I love you so much, Mommy! I don’t want to share you!” I hadn’t really understood my feelings all that well, but speaking them out loud like that, I was convinced they were the truth.

“Well, let’s not worry about that tonight, Titty Baby,” she said, stroking my back. “You’ve had a long, emotionally turbulent day, so let’s get you ready for bed, okay?” She helped me strip down to my diaper and showed me how to adjust the height of the crib gate to get in and out of the bed. I was allowed to suckle from her for a few wonderful minutes, drinking enough milk to make my mind sleepy and my belly pleasantly warm. Mommy kissed me goodnight on the forehead, lips, and nipples, then turned out all but one dim light and shut the door. I stuck my hand in my pussy for the comfort, not really trying to get off, and fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 7

After only a couple of nights sleeping in the giant crib, it no longer felt weird to me. My days were spent in a hazy stupor, though, because I didn’t have many distractions. My phone and laptop were still with my parents, whom I wasn’t yet ready to face again. Mommy didn’t own a television, and her computer was exclusively for her work. She had a few magazines scattered around the house, but mostly they were about photography and other topics related to her work, so they didn’t hold my interest much. When I complained about being bored, she laughed and said, “You’ve got a room full of toys to play with! Be a good girl and let Mommy work for a little while, okay?”

I crawled back to my nursery and eyed the novelty building blocks and other items doubtfully. Appearances to the contrary, I was still very much an adult, albeit a humiliatingly submissive one with a kinky domme, and there was no way children’s toys would provide me with any relief or distraction. Then my eyes wandered back to the cart full of dildos and vibrators and other things I didn’t really recognize. Mommy hadn’t specifically said they were off-limits, I reasoned, nor had she bothered taking them away. That must mean it was okay for me to play with them.

I still felt a little naughty when I picked out a medium-sized rubber cock and clambered into my crib. Even if it was tacitly allowed, there was something obscene ing a sex toy that belonged to someone else. I unfastened my diaper and slid the cold, stiff rubber slowly inside, grunting with a mild sense of satisfaction at being filled so completely. I hadn’t been fucked in a while, aside from fingers and a few thin, improvised dildos, so it was a little painful being stretched like that again, at least at first. Before long I was moaning and shouting, having a great time and completely ignoring how droplets of my juices were being flicked all over the place while the toy squelched back and forth in my pussy.

“Such a noisy little slut!” Mommy said from the doorway, smirking at me in my post-climactic daze. “It’s really very hard to concentrate with you being so loud!”

“I’m sorry,” I said sleepily, feeling too well-fucked to sound very contrite.

“And look, you’ve made another mess!” Mommy exclaimed, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “It’s a good thing I had the foresight to put a mattress protector on the bed! Don’t you go crawling around the room without your diaper, Titty Baby!”

“I won’t Mommy,” I assured her, lazily licking my creamy secretions off the dildo.

“Seeing that gives me a good idea,” she said, moving over to the cart and selecting an item. I knew what a ball gag was, but the one she’d picked out wasn’t quite what I thought. It was rounded on one side but with a smallish rubber penis on the other. She showed me how to wear it and how to remove it, in case I needed to eat or drink. She hesitated before strapping it on my head, though, and said, “Well, let’s give you a little taste.” She had on a tiny skirt, which presented no barrier to her sliding the longer side of the gag into her sex. She moved it around a bit, coating the surface thoroughly with her juices, and then placed it into my mouth. “There you go, Titty Baby, a nice little treat!”

It truly was. I’d been longing to lick her pussy for weeks, and other than a tiny little taste from a fingertip here and there, she hadn’t really allowed me to get close. Technically, she still wasn’t, but sucking on something that had just been inside her was a thrilling new development, and I hoped she would continue to escalate our relationship. After all, if I wanted to keep her to myself, I had to be at least as sexy and desirable as the porn stars she worked with and, I assumed, fucked.

Although Mommy’s flavor didn’t last very long in my mouth, I kept the dildo in place until my evening feeding. It certainly helped muffle my cries when I experimented with new toys between post-climactic naps. While I nursed from her tit, Mommy fingered me and crooned a kind of wordless song. When we were done and I was being tucked into bed, she said, “You know, Titty Baby, I’ve been letting you stay here for free and feeding you. I think it’s only fair that you do a few things for me to help pay your way.”

“Of course, Mommy, I’m sorry!” I replied immediately. I was expecting her to demand that I pleasure her in return, and aside from being something I really wanted, it seemed like a very fair trade from my perspective. My guess wasn’t far off, I suppose, but it was still a bit disappointing and disconcerting.

“Such a good girl! Tomorrow we’ll be making a little movie and taking some pictures. And Titty Baby will be the star! Doesn’t that sound nice and fun?” I was not exactly thrilled, but I nodded my head anyway, then snuggled into my blankets after she kissed me goodnight and turned off the main lights. Lying there in the dark, I contemplated my situation. It struck me as kind of funny that I was eager to whore myself out to her, trading sex for a place to stay, but helping her make porn seemed less appealing. I suppose prostituting myself at least had the merit of being fairly private, whereas there was no telling what would happen to salacious recordings of me after she sold them.

We got started pretty early the next morning. Mommy let me suckle her breasts for a little while but I wasn’t allowed to drain them, sadly. Instead, she took me to the bathroom to wash me, do my hair and make-up, and that sort of thing. As we did so, she explained, “I’m gonna pump some of my milk and give it to you in a bottle. While you enjoy the rest of your breakfast, take off your diaper and play with your toys. It’ll pretty much be a normal day for you, except I’ll be recording it. Oh, and today you can be as loud as you feel like, my pretty Titty Baby!”

Somehow, it was more embarrassing to drink milk from a large novelty bottle than straight from the tit. I suppose the direct nursing was intimate, so there was an emotional element to it. With the ‘ba-ba’ Mommy gave me, and with her filming everything, the act was performative and humiliating, even though the taste was still amazing and made my pussy buzz like always. I gradually got more comfortable in front of the cameras, probably from a combination of arousal and the simple fact that I was the center of Mommy’s attention. She wasn’t ‘on screen’ for the most part, but she was playing with her own pussy behind the scenes nearly as much as I was.

“You make a wonderful model, Titty Baby!” she told me when we took a break for lunch. “I knew you would! We’ll make a pretty penny from this set.” She gave me the dildo she’d been using, which I greedily cleaned with my mouth, before letting me crawl to the kitchen for some solid food.

The afternoon was more of the same, except Mommy wanted me to talk dirty for the camera. It made me blush and die a little inside, but I did what she asked. “Ooh, my sloppy little cunt is so smooth and warm! My bald pussy is probably my favorite toy! I wish I had someone to share it with!” After some encouragement, I sucked on my nipples, something I’d never really tried before. It was mildly pleasurable in its own right, but Mommy evidently loved seeing her Titty Baby slurping her own titties, so I did my best to really get into the act.

The final indignity of my first day as a porn star involved a novelty rattle. Mommy had me masturbate with it, which was ridiculous enough, but afterwards she seemed to think we needed something a little extra. So, she added some lube and slid the handle into my asshole, as deep as it could go, and demanded that I clench my muscles so it wouldn’t pop out. She recorded me crawling around and rattling my butt until the damned thing finally worked its way loose despite my best efforts.

Chapter 8

I got increasingly comfortable with my shameful new career every day. I told myself that if I was just going to be sitting in bed playing with myself all the time, it made perfect sense to let others enjoy it, too. Mostly, though, it was Mommy’s enjoyment that mattered to me. I was delighted to watch her bring herself off almost as often as I did. She’d claimed not to be a porn star herself, but apparently my presence was enough to start changing that. At first she just dressed sexy when she’d pop on-screen to give me a bottle or a toy. Then she got topless so we could record a feeding session. The next one also featured her fingering me, and the one after that she did naked, using a vibrating egg in her pussy.

“I want to do something special for our next project,” Mommy told me one evening. We were having a private nursing session, in her bedroom for a change.

“You want me to go down on you finally?” I asked, smirking around her nipple.

Mommy stroked my hair and smiled back wistfully, but said, “Maybe some other time. I want to do a kind of ‘porn with a plot’ piece for our next video. Basically, I want to tell your story in a condensed form.”

“My story?” I asked, confused.

“Oh, yes, Titty Baby,” she replied. “You’re a big, strong, beautiful lady. You’ve got a bit of a milk-belly forming since you haven’t been exercising as much, but you’re still clearly a fit, physically powerful woman. People who like this kind of porn will be foaming at the mouth to watch you transform from a tough athlete into a submissive, diapered little slut.”

It took us a couple of days to prepare. My parents hadn’t changed their locks, fortunately, so I was able to get back to my room and gather the rest of the stuff I’d brought home from college, including my athletic gear, which we needed for a costume. At Mommy’s insistence, I resumed my regular exercise regimen, or something close to it, which was actually a great relief to me. I realized that I had started losing my identity in the process of becoming Mommy’s Titty Baby, and running in the fresh air again felt almost like waking up healthy after an illness.

Mommy actually wrote a script for us to use. The names were changed, and it happened a lot faster, but it was recognizably the story of my life. Or the most recent few months of it, anyway. “You used your milk to mind control me, huh?” I said after reading it. In the skit, Mommy’s character had magical milk that made my character horny and compliant to her desires. It seemed like too convenient a plot device, too close to reality. She denied it, of course, giggling at what a silly notion it was, but I wasn’t convinced.

Filming my moral decay and downfall was surreal. I can’t really think of any other way to describe it. In many ways it intensified my ambient level of humiliation to replay my weakest, most shameful moments. It also turned me into a dripping, writhing mess to reenact our first encounters. Dres in my old clothes had felt like putting on a costume, and getting naked and then diapered felt like getting back to normal. I wondered just how far I’d fallen, and if there was any hope for my sanity.

Although it wasn’t in the original script, we added the scene I’d long been waiting for at the end. Whoever else might enjoy the porn we were making, it was Mommy who was foaming at the mouth after corrupting me into her Titty Baby for the second time. Whatever reservations she seemed to have about going all the way with me finally didn’t matter. She took a few minutes to put the lights and cameras around her bed before we finally got to the action I desired.

“Oh, fuck, yes, Titty Baby!” my Mommy cried out as I licked her sweet pussy. “Oh, I’ve been looking forward to this for longer than you know!” That made two of us, I thought, but I was mostly concentrating on the task at hand. I wanted to commit every moment to memory, so I could relive it over and over again. Yes, we were recording it, but the cameras couldn’t capture the smell and the taste, or the way it felt to have her inner walls contract on my fingers and tongue. No mere video could replicate the joy of having her juice on my chin, or the fulfillment I experienced when she climaxed from my attentions. It may be exciting to watch a woman cumming from the voyeur’s perspective, but seeing her face in the throes of ion, staring down at you between her legs, is transcendent.

Epilogue

As Mommy expected, our porn was very successful, at least for the niche it existed in. I wasn’t even expecting a cut, really, since I had been under the impression that it was just a way for me to pay her for letting me stay there. It was a pretty lucky thing that she did, though, since my parents had canceled my student loans and going back to college without them would have been practically impossible. And Mommy was adamant that I finish my education, even if that meant we would be apart for months at a time.

We made the most of the weeks we had left, though. I was still her Titty Baby, but that increasingly became a role that stayed in the nursery, whereas we were a somewhat more vanilla domme and her sub in the bedroom, and perhaps something close to a normal couple everywhere else. We started going on real dates, and even though they ended with kinky sex and breast-feeding, it felt very satisfying for me to kind of back-fill our relationship that way.

Our burgeoning romance didn’t stop the porn, of course. It was fairly lucrative, since we were making specialty stuff for the most part. Terri explained that a lot of the women she worked with followed one of three paths. The audience tended to get bored with too much repetition, in the sense that they didn’t want to see the same actress doing the same few things too many times. So, the starlets usually had to make ever more extreme porn or else diversify into other fetishes; those who did neither usually just quit the industry altogether when too many people stopped buying their content.

Since Mommy and I had started out making pretty extreme pornography, there weren’t too many new depths we could plumb in what I had learned was the ABDL community. We made a few where I wet my diaper for real, not just from copious lubrication, but that was as far as either of us wanted to go in that direction. We diversified a bit by inviting some of the other actresses Mommy had worked with to have ‘play dates’ and ‘day care’ scenes with me. It was another mental and emotional hurdle to overcome, having sex with a stranger while my lover watched and recorded it, but like everything else I’d done, it got normalized more and more each time it happened.

We were in a mildly bored mood one night and were watching some pornography from other genres. The idea was to see which other fetishes we might like to explore once I ‘grew out of’ my adult baby phase. Or, perhaps more likely, things we might have to do when people stopped forking over their money to watch me act that way. Terri was showing me some furries going to town on each other and mentioned that one of them was someone she’d worked with before.

“How can you tell?” I joked, waving at the costumes.

“From the credits, you silly little thing,” she said, teasing me right back. “The one with the strap-on did a few videos with me at my old place. Same basic stuff you’ve been doing.”

“I find that a little hard to believe,” I mumbled, watching as the woman in question railed someone’s asshole; I couldn’t tell if the other actor was male, female, or something else, thanks to their fox ensemble. “She seems to really enjoy being a top.”

“That was why she came to me, actually,” Terri said, idly playing with one of my titties. “She’d made a bit of a name for herself being kind of butch and aggressive. She figured that there’d probably be a market for watching her get dominated and degraded. So, she ed me and we set things up. Her instincts were good: a lot of people paid to see her brought low.”

“Sounds kind of familiar,” I observed, ing what she’d said about the audience loving girls like me getting humiliated.

“Yeah, there’s a few formulas that keep getting followed because they work,” Terri acknowledged. “Or they work with fresh faces, anyway.”

We moved on to other films afterwards, but something about that one stuck with me. Later that night, cuddling in her bed after working off the horniness a night of porn-viewing had caused, I asked Terri, “Would you like to record Titty Baby getting railed by your furry friend?” Her eyes reflected what little light there was when she turned to face me.

“What did you have in mind, darling?” she said. I could practically hear her smirking.

“We can combine the two fetishes. Titty Baby will be playing in her crib, trying to fuck that giant teddy bear. She’ll wish that the bear was real and could fuck her properly. You can play the slutty blue fairy or whatever that grants her wish. A little SFX happens and your friend appears in her furry costume with her strap-on. We’ll call her Titty Bear, and she’ll pound Titty Baby until one of us runs out of juice.”

“Wow,” Terri said, sounding turned on again despite our nightly love-making. “I’ve found myself a real partner in crime, haven’t I?” She got up on her elbow and leaned over to give me a sultry kiss. “We may have to wait until you can come home for a weekend to make it happen, but I think it’ll be a real winner. I’m pretty certain ‘Titty Bear’ will be down for it, too!”

Summers, especially when you’re young, seem to last forever until they suddenly end. It was certainly that way for me. I’d earned enough to pay for my next couple of semesters and still had some left over for a used car, an important purchase since I couldn’t depend on my parents to take me back to college. They hadn’t exactly gotten over the domestic bombshell they’d detonated, but with me and Terri acting more and more like a regular couple in public, they were starting to slowly adapt to the idea of having a lesbian daughter. I hoped they’d eventually accept me back into their lives, if not their home, but I was careful to avoid dropping any hints about my new career.

Returning to my dorm, it felt like I’d been gone for years rather than just a few months. So much had happened, and porn aliases aside, I really wasn’t the same person I’d been. I wondered how it would feel to listen to my roommate and other friends talking about dating and awkward attempts at intimacy. Since I was an athlete I came back a week earlier than the general student body, so I was alone for the first night in a long while. Missing my lover, I decided to play with myself the way she would have liked to.

I was wearing ‘big girl’ panties again, although I was still having a lot of leakage, so Terri had given me a box of adult diapers as a going away gift, knowing how much it would make me blush… especially if anyone at school found them. I stripped and put one on, then crawled into my cramped, uncomfortable dorm bed. I sent Mommy a short video of me sucking my titties, knowing how much she’d enjoy it. That led to a video call and mutual masturbation, much to our shared satisfaction.

After saying goodnight I was still a little horny, so I resumed my breast play. I felt something wet on my nipple, and figuring it was just some of my pussy juice, I brought my finger to my mouth to clean it off. To my surprise, it wasn’t just my vaginal secretions I was tasting. I tried sucking on my nipple some more, and after a little while there could be no mistake: I was lactating!

There were several possible mundane explanations, including how much Terri had been stimulating my titties with her mouth for most of the summer. It was at least hypothetically possible that my body had concluded I had someone to nurse and started making milk for them. But I was certain it was a side effect of all the mystery milk, or Ms. Terri milk, I’d consumed. Whatever magic or science she’d used to give herself mind control boob juice, it was working on me now.

As I reclined in my bed, drinking my thin but delicious milk and fingering my pussy, I tried to decide which one of the women in my suite I wanted to seduce first.