During other showers, among the random thoughts she'd had (as one does in the shower), Karyn had figured there were broadly 2 major ways to approach the concept of the Shower. The obvious one was to clean oneself, with the not-so-obvious implication that, if one was not unacceptably filthy, then there wasn't any particular reason to take one just then. That didn't necessarily mean that regular showering wasn't a component of good personal hygiene, just that the timing and frequency of the Shower should be dictated first and foremost by the needs of one's physical health. On the other hand, to some people (among whom Karyn rarely counted herself), the Shower was instead seen as being for the upkeep of one's mental health, and the mundane rituals associated with bathing brought comfort in much the same way waking up to the smell of fresh brewing coffee and falling asleep cuddled with one's favorite plushie brought the senses of safety and security only ever found when one was truly at Home; the actual act of cleaning one's self was only of secondary importance to the feelings it awoke. But, barring other fringe perspectives on bathing (eg. those who sexualized the act or gave it a religious significance), Karyn had thought these 2 approaches were dichotomous; so it was slightly jarring that today, the Shower was important to her in both the Physical and the Mental senses.
Karyn had felt scandalously dirty in both mind and body when she'd stepped in the wash that day. On the one hand, she was leaving behind a shirt soaked in breast milk and panties soaked in girlcum and everything else soaked in her flushed sweat, and on the other hand she herself was still sweating and leaking and lactating and blushing crimson red as she walked in. It was all humiliating and overwhelming to her, not to mention entirely novel; and even worse was that in a way she really didn't want to acknowledge, despite everything, she kinda liked it. But, that was just her libido talking, right? She was no slut!
Thankfully, most of that went down the drain with time under the water. With the immediate problems of her stupid leaky milkers and surprise public display taken care of, she finally had a moment to just stand there in the steam, and take it all in.
She was lactating. That was fact, now. No wonder her boobs felt so sensitive; they were engorged, the big heavy things swollen up even bigger and heavier with milk they were constantly making now for whatever reason. In hindsight, she felt lucky she caught her mom mentioning that apparently she had some medical condition in this new reality before fleeing in panic: if not, Karyn might've had to assume she was pregnant, and she had now idea how she'd handle THAT! Her stupid sexy rack made her enough of a sex object that it was genuinely plausible, that was the worst part. Even Sean was doubting her now... never mind Mom and Dad, they were just being protective as parents should be, but Sean? That stung.
Karyn sighed and put it out of mind for the time being. Her needy tits STILL wanted attention, even after all that, and honestly? Now she felt she had a good reason to oblige them. Apart from cleaning herself and trying to process everything, this Shower was a good a scene as she was gonna get to experiment with her magically perfect bouncy boobies, and she REALLY didn't want to be surprised like that again, out there in the living room. So, she ended up lactating and lactating, and though she was ashamed to admit it, masturbating quite a lot too (It was impractically hard not to when you got off on nipple play as much as Karyn did). By the time the shower had run out of hot water she had a more or less working idea how her milking worked: They were pent up and engorged before, but now that they'd been milked thoroughly the sensation gave way to a lovely, intoxicating feeling of pleasurable relief, which mingled pleasantly with the afterglow of orgasm. She could still lactate in that state, but her nipples could only leak milk as quickly as her boobs could make it, meaning it was effectively only a dribble compared to the absolute gushing they'd been doing when she was at her most frustrated and horny. She realized with some embarrassed dread that she probably need to milk them regularly now... that sounded humiliating to her, but she didn't want to think what her boobs would be like when they were full enough to REALLY explode.
And as for what triggered the leaks... that was both more complicated, and less complicated. Health class and readings on the internet had given her some confusing explanations of lactation as a recently-pregnant woman's semi-involuntary response to hormonal and sensory stimuli, and she hadn't really understood it then. But now that she herself was lactating, it clicked, and it clicked in the same way that things being HOT had to "just click". Asking what made her lactate was like asking what made boobs HOT, or what made guys hard, or what made jokes funny: there wasn't a simple external explanation, you sorta had to just feel it for it to make sense. She could make herself lactate by masturbating playing with her sensitive nipples, especially by sucking on them, and she obviously be made to lactate if someone imitated a baby's cooing (or a cow's mooing) well enough, and she could even make herself lactate just by thinking hard enough about lactating! Especially breastfeeding boys she had crushes on holy fuck that image was HOT it made her really wet and horny now thinking of both her breasts at full engorgement being milked and sucked on by two cute, studly, sexy
Karyn practically jumped out of her skin when the door abruptly swung open after a quick knock. "I'm leaving your pasties on the counter, honey; I figured you might need them." Over the sound of the running water, Karyn could her Mom gathering her soaked clothes up into a hamper. Once done, she asked "Are you okay? You've been in there a while."
"Yeah!" Karyn tried to steady her voice and not sound as startled as she felt. "Yeah, just taking my time. It's been a long day, y'know?"
"Alright, honey. Love you lots!" The door clicked shut, and she was gone.
Having crashed back to reality, Karyn reluctantly shut off the water. In truth, she hadn't properly washed her hair or thoroughly soaped up or anything, having spent almost the entire shower after the initial rinse just playing with her new magic titties and herself for the sake of "experimentation"; but if she stayed in there any longer it'd start to seem suspicious, and besides, by now the water was freezing her nipples solid. She toweled off quickly and went to investigate the "pasties" her mom had left her. What, am I a stripper too, now?
Embarrassingly enough, the pasties did seem like they might've come from a strip club, each having enormous fiery-red heart shapes big enough to fully cover her areolae and more, but Karyn saw easily enough the more practical reason to wear them around: with absorbent gauze padding where her nipples should go, they seemed there more to protect her bra/clothes/robe/etc. from accidental milk leaks from her oh-so-special breasts and their oh-so-special problems. After yet another brief but harrowing this is my life now moment, Karyn finally worked up the courage to put them on, toweling off the steamy mirror to position them carefully and fully over her huge pink areolae (no wonder the pasties were so big, Karyn realized). Her reflection was a girl with long soppy blonde hair and a chest that looked right out of a porno; this being the second time she had seen it, Karyn tried to ignore it now. Instead she threw on a bathrobe, tried to wrap it up and tie it up as tight as she could under her enormous melons, ended up with a mouthwatering shelf of cleavage on display anyway, and finally left the shower.
I can't get my hands on that Wishing Stone fast enough, thought Karyn.
