Fourteenth Avenue was a busy street that boasted a range of shops that saw no equal in Sta. Maria. From quaint bookstores to second-hand shops, multinational headquarters to grocery stores, Fourteenth Avenue had it all, if you were willing to go far enough. One business that sat at the intersection of Fourteenth Avenue and Tenth Street under eight floors of apartments was The Haines’ Milk Bar. The next shift of employees neared the building as the current workers rounded up their shifts.

Holly was not what you would call a “dedicated worker”. She just wanted to clock in, do her work, clock out, and head home. No amount of pep talks from her boss or energy from her coworkers could change her mind. Sure, she enjoyed the friends she made at work when things slowed down enough that she could talk with them (and things rarely got that way), but all it really was was work to her.

No one really knew why she was that way. Most assumed that she felt envious of all the people who loomed over her, or that she was plain enough to be looked over, or that all the customers kept leering at her more fair-looking coworkers. Even Holly wasn’t that sure, but she told others that it was just her disconnecting from work.

As she passed through the front doors, she briefly considered adding “disdain for the workplace” onto the list of her reasons. The place was as busy as ever and she had to push her way through the crowd of people who only had a tenuous idea of what a “line” was as they stared at the menu or at their phones, completely oblivious to people who might need to maneuver around them.

She made her way towards the back, to the door labeled “Employees Only”. Even though she wasn’t wearing the company uniform, she wasn’t stopped or corrected- less so, she figured, that they recognized her, and more so that no one cared enough to check what was going on in the establishment. She took a turn into the employee back area and pulled her work shirt from its hiding place, brushing off the dust that somehow accumulated on it since yesterday before pulling it over her head and around her breasts.

Ugh, that was another thing that bothered her. Before she got this job, she was a noon milker, and work kept pushing for them to come in full. Well, to come in with about a day’s worth of milk, but she hated being forced to skip milking herself, especially in a situation where she wasn’t guaranteed to express it properly. God, she hated that the expressing of her milk was in the hands of those mindless customers who couldn’t even decide what they wanted from a limited menu!

“Good afternoon!”

The timid voice behind Holly had levels of cheeriness and hope that were unheard of in this godforsaken establishment. Wondering who it was, she turned to see its owner.

She was a chubby woman, neither notably tall nor notably short, with brown eyes and hair. Her weight was surprising to Holly, given that the woman was obviously a hyper- considering the wide swells of her breasts and how much milk a hyper could put out per day, the fact she could keep any amount of fat anywhere but on her breasts was surprising.

Holly waved back. “Hey.” In the back of her mind, she knew she had seen her once or twice while she was working, but never paid much attention. She didn’t have her name, but didn’t it start with an ‘M’? Her work “shirt” was more like a vest, and it was opened up for all to see what it barely kept in check. This was pretty much by design, given that she was pretty much there to sit at a pump and supply the place with milk for most of the products. The servers like Holly would top the drinks or provide direct services.

“Ready for the shift?” The woman pulled the vest close around herself and turned towards the door out.

“Never am, but it’s gonna happen regardless. Might as well act like I am.” Holly finished rolling up her sleeves and made her way towards the daily grind, briefly stepping into her boss’s room to grab one of the pink pills, swallowing it without water.

Another thing for the list, the chalky aftertaste of… what was the medication’s name? Afx-something unpronounceable. God, she needed to drink so much water to get that taste out of her mouth. Probably by design, but still.

Holly rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and braced herself for the terror of the day ahead of her.

–====–

Molly pulled her jacket closer around her body. She wasn’t a fan of her situation, but she had rationalized it as ultimately necessary.

It had all started about two weeks ago. Finding her soldering spool had run out, she went and purchased a new spool with her dwindling hobby fund. The next night, the circuit board she had been working on snapped apropos of nothing, and then her soldering iron just stopped heating up. Her pump breaking was the cherry on top of her stress at the time, but at least her building’s Organizer got it repaired by the end of the day. But she was still well and truly behind on her project and low on free funds for it. The stipends she got from the government and for pumping her milk at home covered her needs, but past that, the trickle towards her hobbies would mean it’d take forever to get them back up and running.

She had to turn to one thing that she didn’t like doing: work.

Sure, it wasn’t hard for her to find short-term work, but for a hyper like her, it was hard to find something that wasn’t demeaning in some way. Milk bars paid quite well for women like her, but few in her community thought the wages were worth the loss of face. Unfortunately, the prospect of another delay on her projects was less acceptable for her than the possibility of being recognized.

Few of her friends frequented this part of Fourteenth Avenue, and The Haines’ Milk Bar didn’t seem to be on any of their radars. That had made it perfect for her needs.

Molly ducked into the alley that led behind the store. Sure, the multitude of security cameras would see her, but the only people who would care would be horny security guards, and no shop around here had that kind of money. She felt like she had to take this entrance to the milk bar- a hyper entering through the front garnered stares. ‘Come on,’ everyone seemed to think at her, ‘why else would a hyper be going there?’

She slipped in through the back door and closed it behind herself, exhaling and loosening the tension in her shoulders. It was time to get to work. She started peeling off her jacket, revealing what little she wore underneath.

Work required the servers to wear branded shirts, but hers was closer to a vest. No one had any illusion that it was supposed to close around her or cover up, and likewise, no one could see a hyper working at a milk bar and come to wrong conclusion about why she was there. She didn’t mind doing it, but she didn’t want to be recognized doing it.

The door out to the lobby opened, and a short, disinterested-looking girl stepped through. Molly hadn’t seen her much during her shifts, but she didn’t seem to be the disagreeable type. As the girl pulled a work shirt out from a corner and quickly threw it over herself, Molly decided to speak up.

“Good afternoon!” Molly’s smile faltered when the girl didn’t return her greeting, especially after she paused and seemingly mulled over the fact that someone was just saying ‘hello’. After a few seconds’ pause, she finally turned around and looked over her with a small but still upsetting amount of confusion and disdain.

“Hey.” The single word was backed up by an unsure wave. She almost immediately went back to ignoring her and focused on adjusting her shirt to fit, especially around her breasts. The way she frowned at them suggested she wasn’t used to their current size. Maybe she hadn’t the proper chance to milk herself because work wanted her coming in full, as well.

Might as well try and continue the conversation. “Ready for the shift?” she offered as she uncomfortably shifted in her vest.

“Never am,” the girl sighed, “but it’s gonna happen regardless. Might as well act like I am.” She rolled up her sleeves and walked out to the work area, briefly leaning into the manager’s office to grab something out of there. Probably the lactation medicine. She didn’t seem like someone who needed the extra supply, but when your job was serving milk throughout a long shift, it’s better to take the precautions to ensure you don’t run dry for a customer. Thankfully, Molly wasn’t here to serve, just provide milk. Being the size she was, she doubted that the medicine would actually do much to her supply, mostly getting lost in the noise.

Molly stepped into the area behind the bar, then sat down on the stool where she would be for the next few hours. She initially sat with her breasts facing away from the pumps behind the glass panes so that she could check that everything was in order. As Molly suspected, the last woman here left them in her settings which were too far apart for her comfort. She quickly adjusted them, then swiveled around to set them in. Once settled, she flicked the switch beneath the counter to start the pumps.

She reached beneath the counter on the other side and pulled out a book to open and settle in her cleavage. Nothing better to do with her time.