The Finale of Remodeling
Heo Seong-ah kneaded her breasts diligently, just as the Manager had commanded. At first, she pressed down on the upper parts like she was molding them, then slowly slid her hands lower, cupping her palms at the center and rubbing side to side.
"Haah... hngh..."
He hadn't told her exactly where or how to touch, so she groped around intuitively, seeking out the spots that felt good. She couldn't see a thing with the blindfold on, but as she kept massaging, the substantial weight of her breasts became profoundly apparent. The heavy, pliant mass yielding under her palms felt so soft it was hard to believe it was hers.
And then...
"Eh... what...?"
After rubbing for a while, Heo Seong-ah noticed a slick liquid seeping from the tips of her nipples. She first thought it was sweat beading on her fingers, but with a flicker of dread, she pinched a nipple—and felt milk spurting out. Despair crashed over her like a wave.
"Wha—wh—why...?"
"What's so surprising about that? It's just a bit of breast milk..."
"Ah... ahng..."
Breast milk was something that only came with pregnancy. Sometimes illness or stress could trigger it, but in her case, it was the drugs injected into her nipples. Even knowing that, she couldn't help wondering if the Manager had somehow impregnated her behind her back. It was a natural fear for any woman.
"Hic... kngh..."
Desperate to deny reality, Heo Seong-ah kept squeezing her nipples, feeling the milk flow with every press. The milk she wished wouldn't come arced in little parabolas, dribbling down in steady streams at her touch.
"Pfft."
A bound female livestock on her knees, pinching her own nipples to milk herself—what a ridiculous sight. The Manager smirked and nudged her thighs with the toe of his shoe.
"B62, what exactly are you doing right now?"
"Y-yes...?"
"I told you to massage your breasts, not play with your nipples."
"Ah... s-sorry..."
"Sorry? That's not going to cut it."
"Pardon?"
The Manager pried her hands away from her still-clamped nipples, then swung his open palm down onto her breast without hesitation.
Slap—
"Kyaaaaaaaah!!"
Her breast jiggled wildly left and right from the full-force strike, swelling red instantly. Heo Seong-ah screamed, clutching her chest and doubling over in agony.
"Khek! Gngh!"
She'd forgotten her neck was restrained. Choking, she hurriedly straightened up, gasping for air.
"B62, let me remind you: nipples are erogenous zones for women, just like the pussy. Your only permitted action is massaging your breasts. Touching your nipples is the same as rubbing your pussy, so you'll be punished accordingly. Understood?"
"Hngh... y-yes... I'm sorryyy..."
"Then resume massaging your breasts."
"Hic, kngh..."
Why force her into these pointless acts? She truly couldn't comprehend it. The Manager watched her knead for a long while, then nodded in satisfaction and seized both her wrists.
"That's enough. You can stop now."
"Ah... y-yes..."
"Now, we'll begin the real 'breast training.'"
"Pardon...?"
The Manager guided her wrists into position. First, he made her press her palms firmly into both breasts, squeezing them together toward the center.
"Good. Press harder—crush them to the limit."
"Hnggh..."
It already hurt plenty like this, but he wanted them mashed flat together.
"Hoo..."
Thrust forward, her breasts displayed an astonishing volume. At that size, he figured he could easily slide his cock horizontally between them, all the way in.
"Now, with your breasts gripped like that, try shaking your hands up and down."
"Yes..."
She had no idea what for, but following orders, she shook—and felt the heavy weight sloshing up and down. It was like jumping rope braless.
"B62, do you understand the purpose of this action?"
"Uh, n-no...? I don't get it..."
"A shame. I thought a smart one like you would know."
The Manager leaned in close, until his upright cock prodded her body. Her breasts pointed straight at the ceiling.
"Hik!"
Something far thicker than a finger bumped the center of her chest—an unpleasant sensation, warm and reeking faintly at the tip of her nose. No words needed; it screamed "man's cock."
"B62, what have you been taught the body of a female livestock exists for?"
"Th-that... it exists to make the master feel good..."
"Correct."
The Manager jabbed his index finger into her cheek, pressing hard.
"Ngh..."
"A livestock's mouth exists to suck cock and extract semen..." He prodded the inside of her thigh next. "Her pussy and asshole are cock-holes made to pleasure dick..." Finally, he flicked her breast. "So, what do you suppose breasts are for? Tell me."
"Th-they exist... to make a man's cock feel good..."
"Right answer. You truly have a gift as female livestock."
Just reciting the script, and she got lavish praise. It didn't make her feel any better, of course.
"Then, do you understand this exercise now?"
"Ah... y-yes..."
A way to pleasure a man's cock: clamp it between squeezed-together cleavage and shake to milk out semen. That's what he was about to teach her, using his own dick as the tool.
"If you get it, then do it."
"Yes..."
"No specific commands or instructions. Figure out for yourself how to make a man feel good."
The Manager thrust forward again, gripping his rigid cock and shaking it by hand.
"Hngh..."
Heo Seong-ah frowned at the glans tapping her cleavage. Until recently, these breasts no one had ever seen bare were now reduced to a lowly cock-hole for squeezing cum. Shame and humiliation burned; she wanted to sob. But as female livestock, this was her fate to accept.
"I'll do it..."
"Good. By the way, if you don't make me cum in ten minutes, punishment. Got it?"
"Y-yes...??"
"Ten minutes is plenty, isn't it? If livestock can't even milk semen properly, of course she'll get fitting discipline, reflect on her failure, and retrain."
"Hngh..."
Expecting too much from a first-timer? But maybe she should just intuitively master it—no one needed to teach something so obvious.
"We've already wasted twenty seconds talking. Get to it."
"Y-yes..."
She had no choice anyway. Heo Seong-ah pulled her breasts inward, leaned her torso forward slightly, and enveloped the Manager's cock in her cleavage, squeezing tight with her palms as taught. Then she shook her wrists up and down.
"Hic... hngh..."
Was she doing it right? Blindfolded, she couldn't tell.
"Haah... ngh..."
The Manager gave no reaction, just stood still. No sounds either—it felt like rubbing a dildo bolted to a wall.
"Um... Manager...?"
"What is it, B62?"
"Am I... doing it right? I don't know..."
"Hmm... Wouldn't it be better to shake those tits faster than waste time asking? Three minutes gone."
"Kngh..."
Shaking her vulgarly bouncing breasts to serve cock, a wave of self-loathing hit her; she gritted her teeth. But to avoid punishment, she had to make him cum, no matter what. Her wrists ached from the vigorous shaking, and exhausted, she paused to swallow tears.
"Hngh..."
Honestly, impossible. Who masters this on the first try? And using soft, jiggly fat instead of a wrinkled pussy or ass... even if he was premature, it wasn't easy.
"Hnggh... hic..."
Her sniffling grew incessant. Judging it hopeless, the Manager sighed deeply.
"Haah, B62."
"Yes..."
"Fine. Forget my earlier proposal."
"Pardon...?"
Surprisingly considerate, the Manager pulled away.
"I'll teach you properly how to serve with your tits from now on. Remember it well."
"Yes, Manager..."
Sometimes, kind guidance and gentle praise worked better than harsh commands. One step toward becoming obedient female livestock.
The carrot and the whip.