How Does Brother Namgung Know About Nipple Plugs…?
After Maeng Harang had returned to the dormitory as well, Im Seowol hurried along alone, determined not to miss the afternoon lectures. His effort paid off; he made it into the classroom right on time.
"………."
Perhaps it was because of the makeup he had worn the day before. He did his best to ignore the growing number of glances that kept flicking his way as he found a suitable seat and took out the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone he had prepared.
Im Seowol prided himself on being fairly sharp, but the constant pressure of making a living left him little room to show his full ability. He had no intention of pinning his hopes on the civil service examinations—those were the domain of true monsters among the gifted, people who had received every material and spiritual support imaginable and devoted their entire lives to study, of whom only a tiny fraction ever passed.
Rather than chase the empty dream of rising to a central post, his goal was simply to graduate from the Imperial Academy with respectable marks and become an official in Cheonju. If he could also earn the recommendation of his teachers, that would be the icing on the cake.
"The state and society interact as interdependent entities, yet each possesses its own proper sphere; therefore it is necessary to distinguish the two……."
If I want to become an official, I have to give everything to my studies right now……!
Im Seowol forced himself to ignore the sense of wrongness coming from his grown breasts and the chastity belt locked around his manhood, and diligently copied the lecturer’s words into his notebook.
He had been concentrating alone for roughly half a shichen when—
—twitch.
"……?"
It was no longer a vague sense of wrongness. The upper layer of his underclothes—his breast bindings—felt damp.
A strange anxiety rose in him. He slipped a hand between the front of his robes, felt the soaked cloth and the soft flesh beneath, and his eyes flew wide in horror.
M-milk…… it’s overflowing……?
He had skipped the morning milking because using the pump first thing would inevitably drive him to climax, and exhausting himself before class sounded bothersome and tiring—plus he had wanted to try letting the milk build up at least once.
Why…… why is this happening……? It’s only been a single day……?
Barely a day and a half since the last milking, and the volume of milk his breasts were producing had already exceeded their capacity.
What he did not realize was that the peculiar hunger that had begun the moment his body started producing milk had driven him to eat far more at lunch than he normally could, further stimulating production.
W-what do I do……?
If anyone discovered that he—a man—was not only lactating but soaking his clothes with the excess, how on earth was he supposed to explain it?
Sensing social suicide looming, Im Seowol made a snap decision. He packed away his writing tools as unobtrusively as possible and rose from his seat.
It’s fine…… the underclothes aren’t completely soaked yet……. Just go slowly…… as long as I don’t draw attention…….
Fortunately the Imperial Academy did not stop students who left mid-lecture; the only one who suffered was the student who missed the lesson. Im Seowol slipped out of the classroom without attracting notice and hurried back to the dormitory with short, quick steps, trying to ignore the heavy, sloshing sensation in his chest.
"Haa, haa…… That was close……."
"Huh? You’re back already—?"
When Im Seowol reached the dormitory, Maeng Harang, who had been lounging about as usual, greeted him cheerfully.
"Ah……?"
Maeng Harang came right up to him, sniffed the air, and circled him once, nose twitching.
"I-I’m in a hurry, so could you let me pass……?"
"……Milk smell—! Your milk overflowed, didn’t it?"
"Euk……?!"
Maeng Harang stepped right into his face and yanked open the front of Im Seowol’s upper robes in one smooth motion. The soft, slightly fuller breasts—more swollen than they had looked in the mirror that morning—were laid bare.
"W-what do you think you’re doing……!"
"Just as I thought—?"
Watching Im Seowol’s face turn scarlet with flustered shame, Maeng Harang grinned mischievously and clapped his hands together.
"Ah—look at me. I actually just received a package from the twin sisters."
He held up an expensive-looking silk pouch, then drew out its contents and displayed them with a flourish.
"Ta-da—! Special milk plugs from the Ice Palace. They’re ridiculously expensive, but they said it’s an initial investment cost……? Anyway, free of charge!"
The plugs were shaped to cup the nipples perfectly, and several short strands of silver thread dangled from each one. The moment Im Seowol saw those threads he recognized them as similar to the ones used when his milk ducts had first been developed.
"……Why are there threads attached……?"
"Ah—these? They’re for sealing the entrance of the milk ducts so not a single drop can leak. They said you’d be curious."
Still smiling, Maeng Harang held the plugs out toward him.
"Apparently the sensation when you put them on is so intense you thrash around, so you absolutely can’t put them on by yourself the first time. Well? Want to try them on? I’ll help."
"Ugh……."
Im Seowol crossed his arms over his chest like a woman forced to bare her skin. While he hesitated, Maeng Harang’s expression turned uncharacteristically serious.
"The reason your milk is overflowing, Seowol hyung-ah, is because your current breasts are on the small side even among flat chests—A to B cup—so they can’t store much."
Im Seowol gave a tiny nod. Maeng Harang continued.
"According to the twins, you’re the type that produces a lot of milk—?"
"Ugh……."
A man with a high milk yield. The humiliating diagnosis made Im Seowol clench his teeth. A brief, chilling smile flickered across Maeng Harang’s face, but Im Seowol missed it.
"Hmm…… So the conclusion is, unless you plan on milking yourself every two shichen, you’ll have to wear these plugs."
"………."
Even Im Seowol had to admit that if he wanted any kind of normal daily life, he had no choice but to accept the Ice Palace special milk plugs Maeng Harang was casually recommending.
"What’ll it be? Going to squeeze yourself dry five or six times a day instead?"
It was a trap, of course. Wearing the plugs meant letting milk accumulate in the breasts; without timely milking they would only grow larger. Even if milking temporarily reduced their size, once breasts had expanded the body remembered the larger capacity—just as someone who has gained weight finds it easier to put the weight back on—and would produce still more milk. Eventually living without the plugs would become impossible, the accumulated milk would drive further growth, and in the end his chest would swell to at least explosive size—F-cup or bigger.
According to the twins’ diagnosis, Im Seowol’s aptitude was such that each breast growing larger than his own head was almost a certainty.
But Im Seowol, already driven to the edge mentally, was completely swayed by Maeng Harang’s smooth persuasion and made an irreversible choice.
"……Haa…… Fine. I guess I have no choice but to wear the plugs……."
The moment Im Seowol decided, Maeng Harang led him into his room and sat him on the bed.
"Okay, you might thrash around, so I’m going to seal your pressure points—?"
"Y-yeah……."
Gulp—.
Having already learned the terrifyingly blissful pleasure that could be felt through his nipples and milk ducts, Im Seowol could not help imagining exactly what Maeng Harang meant by “you might thrash while the plugs go in.”
"……There, pressure points sealed—! If you lie down you might soak the bed, so we’ll do this sitting up—."
The words were barely out of his mouth before Maeng Harang inserted an extremely fine silver thread into Im Seowol’s still-exposed breast.
"O-oohh……♡♡"
I-it’s coming……♡♡
The sensation of that impossibly thin silver thread invading the inside of his chest—something he had thought he would never feel again in his life.
"Wow—look at that face. Feels that good?"
Maeng Harang asked with flushed cheeks and a delighted grin, but Im Seowol had no room to answer. The pleasure was already so intense his brain could not process it; his vision had gone white and a high-pitched ringing filled his ears.
"Aheh, aheeh……♡♡"
His face had completely lost control—eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out—while tears streamed down even as his mouth curved into a smile.
"Mm—too bad I can’t get a proper review. All right, the other side—!"
"———!!"
Maeng Harang cheerfully affixed the second plug. Even though his pressure points should have left him temporarily paralyzed, Im Seowol arched his back like a drawn bow in a silent scream and convulsed from head to toe.
"Hoh……k……♡♡♡"
"Hmm—. They look just like little bandages. Pervert sisters, the lot of them. Guess they cared about the appearance too, huh?"
Finished with the plugs, Maeng Harang muttered a bit of gossip about the twin sisters and stepped back to look Im Seowol over.
The word “milk plug” might conjure images of solid bottle stoppers, but in reality the devices clung to the nipples like soft fabric, giving off a distinctly perverse allure.
"Anyway, milking, huh. What a peculiar taste—? Hard for ordinary people like me to understand this world."
Saying something no one who knew him would ever agree with, Maeng Harang released the pressure points and laid the still-trembling Im Seowol down on the bed.
"Sleep well, future dairy-cow hyung-ah. Lots of sleep makes for good milk."