Then, suddenly, there was a slight glimmering of memory...
Jon remembered something of his life here: he remembered being milked along with his father every morning so as to maintain the household's milk supply.
He remembered that it was considered only polite for a well-brought-up boy to volunteer his tits and their useful abilities to whoever needed them, and...
And he remembered being on Duty in the past, dressed in the sexy little uniform that the girls loved, the frilly neckline low enough to allow anyone to easily pop his tits out for whatever purpose.
Sometimes his duty was served in the girl's bathroom - standing beside the sink, politely offering hygienic handwash to whoever wished to squeeze his tit to get it...
Sometimes it was in the cafeteria, mincing around prettily, going up to girls and offering to top up their drinks or supply them with ketchup...
Sometimes it was different places entirely...
