CHAPTER 6
ZYREN
My cock and stinger rub against each other just within my abdomen’s opening, both throbbing and dripping with sympathetic arousal.
Nova has a strong consciousness, and her desperation is so intense it broadcasts into mine even as I try to block it.
Her pain was overwhelming. I had to do something.
This desperation, at least, won’t leave scars on her nervous system. But it does make it particularly difficult for me to do my job.
Nova’s breath becomes labored as the weight of her breasts increases against her chest, and I reach out with my legs to tug at the silken ropes suspending her.
The interwoven threads move smoothly as if on a pulley system, and Nova tips forward, hanging upright and forward now, so that gravity pulls the swelling weight away from her and into the silk supporting her.
Her eyes roll back in pleasure, and she shudders.
A new wave of desperation hits me. I can feel the ghostly, aching pleasure of the weight of her breasts, slowly increasing as the transformation progresses and the silk supporting her weakens and stretches.
The silk’s gradual failure is by design—it allows her body to adjust more slowly to the new burden.
The fact that it makes me salivate, watching the silk strain and thin, digging into her plush flesh, struggling to contain it, is an unfortunate side effect.
I consider calling for Sylvus—it’s the professional thing to do while I’m overwhelmed by her consciousness.
But the mere thought inspires a wave of violent jealousy.
I suppose I thought I was above such things.
What a fool I was.
Nova’s head hangs forward on her neck, and I cradle her face in my hands, giving her muscles a break.
“You’re doing so well, Nova. You’re almost there.”
Tears slide down her cheeks as she sobs with pleasure, and I catch them with my thumbs.
“Deep breaths with me,” I instruct. “In… out…”
I close my eyes and press our foreheads together, leaning into the connection instead of away from it. The chaos of her arousal buffets me, but I hold tight to the anchor cord of my will.
I breathe deeply, with long, slow exhales. Her consciousness accepts the connection and syncs with the movement.
Each exhale tempers some of the desperation, and her body slowly calms, despite the boiling need at her core.
“I want to cum so badly,” she whispers, voice shaking. Her brilliant azure eyes find mine.
“I know.” I take another deliberate, deep breath.
Her body joins me.
“You will. Soon.”
Nova’s next exhale becomes a long, slow moan as she acclimates to the overstimulation. With every measure that she’s able to relax, her pleasure deepens.
Which means that my pleasure deepens. And it becomes exponentially harder to continue to guide her through slow, even breaths.
I shudder as my abdomen spasms, hot venom leaking from my stinger—which is, as for all Apoids, a modified ovipositor.
It itches to plunge into her warmth, to find a soft, perfect place for my eggs.
My cock twitches with equal fervor, and my mind unhelpfully reminds me that humans have two holes in close proximity, each hot and tight and perfect…
My breath comes out as a choked moan when another spasm ripples through me. Like a drop of viscous fluid, a whitish bead gathers at the end of my slender stinger. When it falls to the silken floor, it remains oblong—a flexible, gelatinous egg. Unfertilized, fortunately.
Focus, Zyren. You have a job to do.
I pull down a band of silk to serve as a hammock for Nova’s head, easing her into it before dropping my hands to her breasts.
My venom has made the transformation slower, and I need to counteract that. However, the stimulation is going to drive her crazy.
I take another set of deliberate breaths, waiting for hers to synchronise with mine before sinking my fingers into her breasts.
The plushness is unbelievable. Soft and yielding, unlike anything I’ve ever touched. Underneath, her breasts are taut with pressure as they reach their limit, now multiple times larger than they were before.
I should be taking weight and circumference measurements, jotting down notes, asking clinical questions. Instead, I shut my eyes and force another deep breath as a wave of pleasure sends my cock drooling.
I find Nova’s glands and massage them, encouraging her milk production. She whimpers, then her breath finds mine again.
“Such a good girl,” I breathe over her. “So good at taking direction… You can take more for me, can’t you?”
Before Nova can answer, something warm flickers through her consciousness and the ethereal contract ringing my wrist.
I focus on that, driving forward on instinct.
“Take it all for me, Nova.”
Her eyes flutter, her breath deepens, her body relaxes.
Thrill rises in my chest. “You can be an eager, blissed-out milk slut, can’t you, Nova?”
She moans, shaking, eyes too unfocused to find me. When I cup her cheek, she nuzzles into it.
It’s difficult to say whether this desire always lurked within her, or whether the combination of my and Sylus’s venom has made her unusually open to suggestion, but regardless, it’s her only path to relief.
Nova tenses. “They’re so full…”
“They are.” I massage her breast with one hand while I cup her face with the other. “Nova, you’re magnificent… Relax for me.”
She responds well to the firm command, melting under my touch. Her breaths deepen as she struggles to control herself, and her gaze rises laboriously to mine. An intense craving for approval flickers through her consciousness.
“Just like that,” I soothe. “You’re absolutely perfect.”
Nova’s breath becomes a whimpering sigh as she accepts the intensity of the sensation, letting it wash over her.
Her cunt and breasts ache in time with each other, but it’s a pleasant, tolerable ache.
This is the calm in the eye of the storm.
I keep her here as long as I can, even as I watch her breasts reach their full size. Normally, milking would begin as soon as possible, but she’s found an equilibrium here. She deserves to rest.
Nova stares blankly ahead, pupils blown wide, every exhale a quiet moan.
“This is one hell of a drug,” she murmurs, lashes fluttering. “How bad is the come-down going to be?”
“Bad.” I trace her cheek with my fingers. “But I’ll be with you the whole time. I’ll ease it as much as possible.”
A sharper, pre-orgasmic pleasure flickers at Nova’s core, tempting her toward desperation. She forces another deep breath. I join her, helping her relax on the long exhale.
Wetness blossoms along the remaining bands of silk where they cross her nipples. Her eyes roll back, and she moans, but my consciousness anchors here in this steady place for a moment longer.
“The next part is going to be very intense,” I tell her. “But you can take it. You can take it for me, can’t you?”
Her lashes flutter, pupils blowing wider, until only the slightest rim of blue remains. “Y-yes, doctor…”
I tilt my head. Curious, I tug gently on that thread, and her consciousness gladly yields to me. Beyond words, an understanding of her needs settles over me. I do this with patients fairly often, but I’ve never uncovered a need like this.
My hand on her cheek shifts to grip her chin firmly.
Nova gasps, then sinks deeper into relaxation.
“Listen very carefully, Nova.” My voice is firm, but not unkind. “I can make you feel better. But only if you do precisely as I say. Can you do that for me?”
She moans, then nods against my grip. “Yes, doctor… Anything…”
“I’m going to drain you soon. But you are absolutely forbidden from orgasm until I command it. Do you understand?”
The most intoxicating change ripples through Nova. It’s as if a magnetic pull has grasped her cells, organizing them all in the same direction, all toward the same end.
Her desperation becomes her prize. Every excruciating moment without release is proof of her good work.
My hands shake, fingers digging deeper into Nova’s skin, and she yields even more sweetly.
“Oh, Nova,” I breathe over her ear, “what are you doing to me?”
The most luxuriant moan yet spills from her lips, entire body quivering with eager pleasure. Milk drips through the silk, puddling on the floor.
Her lip trembles. “Will you milk me yet?” Not a request—a question.
My voice dips low and dark. “I’ll milk you when I please. You’ll wait as long as I say.”
Her breath catches, shaking with bliss. “I’m so full it hurts…”
“Then you’ll hurt for me, won’t you, sweet Nova?”
With one last quivering sigh, her body sinks into total relaxation.
Every exhale sends another dribble of milk from her breasts.
The poor thing is so wary of false promises that the only assurance she can truly take on board is that at least her pain is for a reason.
At least her endurance will earn her praise and love and care.
I take a moment to admire my gorgeous prize.
Her thighs and hips and stomach have all swollen along with her breasts, and I want to sink my hands and teeth into every inch of her.
Where before her pale eyes and hair made her seem almost a ghost on this plane, now her eyes are wide and dark, her body grounded and present.
I pull away the last strands of silk from her breasts, and she gasps as the pressure releases from her nipples, allowing her to drip freely.
Normally, lingering so long in this state would be excruciating for a hucow. But Nova’s relationship to sensation is different. She’s long since become accustomed to agony. Here instead is a chance to become accustomed to exquisite, torturous pleasure.
With a feather touch, I press my fingertips over one of her throbbing nipples. Hot milk pours into my hand.
I tip her head up so she can watch with unfocused eyes as I lick her milk from my palm. Fuck, it’s incredible. I’ve never tasted anything this creamy, this refreshingly sweet. There truly is no substitute for fresh milk.
The professional thing would be to use a milking machine.
This is already so far past professional.
I wet my hand again and press my fingers into her mouth this time. She moans and sucks at them, loving her own taste.