We dive into the life of a self-employed baker. She has… perhaps an unhealthy way of thinking about her customers.

Carrie wakes up at 0500, rubbing her eyes as she silences her alarm. She rolls out of bed and makes her way over to her kitchen, brushing her thin, blond hair out of her face. She tests the weight of her breasts in her hands, and notes how much space she has when passing through a doorway. Their size is hard to judge by sight, considering the loose blouse she has over them, but she’s a little better at guessing by their weight.

She ponders their size as her fingers sink into the heft, her soft skin bulging out between her fingers. She had a productive day yesterday and she had a few sweet dreams last night… she should have plenty for today. She grabs the cups of her home pump and sits down at her kitchen table, briefly enjoying the feeling of her breasts sitting on her lap before pulling her shirt out of the way and hooking herself up and starting the pump.

The rhythmic tugging at her nipples begins encouraging her flow, droplets to trickles to sprays to streams. Before long, her milk is all but pouring out of her, inundating the pump’s tubing. Carrie chuckles, seeing the natural state of her body forcing the pump to struggle to catch up.

She gingerly runs her hands along the slope of her breasts, moaning and shuddering at her own feather touch. She savors the sensation of all her milk rushing down her breasts and flowing out of her body. Every so often, she can feel a floodgate open in a different part of her breasts as she lets down, sending a new surge of milk into the pumps.

These sensations begin lighting a new fire in her core and she begins rubbing her thighs together. God, she wishes that she had a boyfriend, someone that she would pull out of bed alongside her and to help her pump. Someone to be so gentle yet firm with her to help coax the milk out of her, someone to whisper praise into her ears as she sprayed her milk with abandon.

She would tease him all the while, of course. For every grope he’d get in, she’d be sure to tease him just as much. If she got her way, by the time she was done pumping, he’d be achingly erect and absolutely tenting his boxers, his balls stuffed plump with a fresh load of cum just for her!

She’d turn around, act shocked, then offer to take care of the issue she’d inflicted on him. Maybe he’d demur and back off, but a needy throb down there would change his mind in a heartbeat. She’d push him to sit back in his chair, straddle his lap, and gingerly pull his cock out, feeling it in her hand before moving forward and letting it plunge deep inside of her and- and–!

Carrie gasps as she comes, doubling over and shoving her tits into her lap, the combined pressure and orgasm forcing all the more milk from her. She instinctively moves her hands forward and grabs onto the clamps, which were struggling to stay on with the newfound tide trying to pry them off. Stray trickles of milk escape from the pump as another climax rocked her. She rides out the waves of orgasm, straightening up when only the afterglow remains. As she catches her breath, she sinks a hand into her breast to gauge how much further she’d have to go. She feels a lot softer now, her breasts visibly smaller- she certainly hopes she’d be smaller, given how much she’d just gushed out.

A minute or so more, she figures, before she’s empty enough. She drapes herself over her chair, letting herself luxuriate in the moment and soak up the afterglow. It’s only when her pump starts beeping at her that she re-engages with reality. She looks at the readout, smiling at herself: 74.5L. That’ll be plenty for today. It’s about time for her to start her actual work.

But before she does any of that, she needs to take a shower first.

===

“Thank you,” Carrie smiles, handing the customer’s bag over to him, “please come again soon!”

“You t– uh–”

Carrie laughs and dissipates the awkward situation. “I hope you enjoy it!”

“Er– Thank you.”

Still blushing red, the customer turns and leaves the bakery. Carrie waves after him, watching him turn and run up the street. As he dashes out of view from the windows, she turns away from the register towards the back.

The smile on her face changes, taking on a hint of something less than altruistic. Her mind flashes to every customer that’s come through her doors today, everything that they ordered. She imagines each one in turn, eating the food she cooked– with the milk that she pumped this morning. She feeds so, so many, each and every day! She feels a rush to her cheeks and a surge in her chest as her breasts begin producing in response to her thoughts. If only she could personally feed every person who came through her door–

Carrie hears a chime and spins on her heel, ready to serve the next customer with a smile on her face.