Lactania's Origin 3
Tania makes a discovery about herself and her milk, leading to a revelation and a new purpose in life.
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The bathhouse is precisely what she needs, and the bovine lady in charge of it smiles and nods as Tania pays for a private luxury tub. However, the wizard notices how the cow shifts and presses her arms against her breasts, perhaps in a sign of jealousy? Possibly, she'll get a lot of looks like that from now on.
Undressed and in her private room, Tania slips into the tub, which is large enough for a woman her size to lie comfortably in. She finally places her hands on her chest, nodding, sighing, and squeezing.
She lets the warm milk roll down her body and around her sides, dripping little droplets that form on the basin.
Her tongue slithers out, and her sighs delighted as she massages her tits. Of course, as she works them, she wonders how long she can keep this up before she finally has depleted her reserves. It is not so much a concern as a lingering thought left behind as the final dangling bit of pretense that this is more than what she knows it to be—simple indulgence of her desires.
As she works on herself, her eyes closed and her body squirming in the warm liquid, she realizes she created such a shallow pool of stuff. She lets go of her tits, her hands falling around her and letting out a soft splash. Breathing, she stares down over herself, her chest squished against her body, leaking more of the delightful white delight from her body.
How much can she produce? That is a question to ask in a battle of endurance, indeed. Does she dare attempt to squeeze all the mana out of her? She checks again, focusing inwardly on herself. Her mana is still there!
Is the milk a byproduct of the mana instead of a representation of the mana itself? If that is the case, it should be safe to squeeze as much of it out as she wants. But even so, would she even want to do it? What else can she do with this substance?
She lifts her hand, staring at her glistening palm. Gulping, she steels herself for such a strange but delightful idea. Her tongue slithers out, tasting the milk in her hand.
Such an exquisite thing! Unlike anything she's had before! And to come from her body, well, that is so magnificent!
Tania grabs a tit and lifts it up. It's so massive that she can just make it to it when she bends forward, rolling her shoulders. Her other hand moves and lifts her other tit, bringing the two breasts together, their nipples pressed and dripping. At that new configuration, Tania takes both tits into her mouth and she squeezes with her arms.
Milk streams from her mouth and into her mouth, wetting her tongue with its warm wonder. She squeals and shudders, suckling, drawing out more and more of the nourishing stuff. If her body produces so much, it must be magical, and the slight tingle she feels in the back of her throat reminds her that it is.
So she rolls onto her stomach and chest, letting the additional pressure of the ground make her squeeze out more and more, increasing the release and filling her mouth. Soon enough, milk dribbles out from her maw, as she cannot hold any more, and with the pressure, she finally breaks, opening her mouth, letting more of the stuff fall about her from between her teeth and from her nipples.
Tania pants, coos, and pushes herself up, a mess of her nourishing discharge. She licks her lips and places a hand firmly on the basin. Closing her eyes, she senses the magic all around her and laughs.
Beyond any expectation she had, she has found one inarguable truth.
The milk in the tub still holds on to the lingering remnants of her magic.
She isn't just lactating. She has become a generator of mana herself!
Tania's time in the tub must end, and the luscious lizard pulls herself free, the milk dripping off her scales and sloshing into the tub. When she stands at the edge of the bath, she leans in over it, watching the pool of milk, so white and pure and so full of magic.
Tania dips her hand into the liquid, moving back and forth, feeling the flow of the life-giving liquid and the spark of mana that suffuses it. “It's magnificent," she breathes out to herself. “And it all comes from me. Is it even possible that such a wondrous thing is so undiscovered? What a waste those mammals have, not knowing how powerful their milk truly is." She sighs, lifting her hand and watching liquid pour back into the tub.
She stares at the pool as if it were some mesmerizing reflection, showing her a truth she had not yet considered. She wiggles her fingers, looking over her arm, noticing the milk that sticks to her scaled body. Almost every inch of her still has that covering, and practically every inch of her feels the delightful tingle of the latent lactative energies.
She focuses her mind on that milk, her magical reserves filled inside her chest and throughout her body. She holds her hand out before her, palms out toward the pool. Her lids flicker, her mouth murmurs in half-formed words, and her fingers twitch. Soon, very soon, the pool bubbles, boiling with the magical influence she exerts upon it.
And it flows upward, milk rising from the pool and forming into a sphere upon her palm. Tania rolls it over the back of her hand. Along the ridges of her fingers, she holds her hand facing upwards, fingers pointing, and that sphere, much more solid than a liquid now, rests upon those tips.
Tania opens her eyes and focuses on the object, which shifts and changes color, first becoming clear, then blood red, and finally back to its milky normalcy.
The mage laughs, thrusting her arm forward, and the sphere in her hand turns into a deadly burst of liquid, a whip that lashes at the wall, carving into the stone with its magical power. With one hand dipped into the liquid and another orchestrating magical movement, she makes the bathing fluid flow up her body and leave, making a milky construct that dances to her whim.
“This is it!" she shouts, clapping her hands together. “This is what I've been seeking my entire life!" Licking her lips, she can hardly contain herself. She has made the most extraordinary discoveries here in this tiny little room. How simple, and yet how profound. Milky magic, no lactomancy, she shall call it.
The milk spills beside her as she walks out of her room, strutting her stuff. “And there's only one name that would fit the mistress of this new magic," Tania says, running her hands over her head and down over her body. “My perfect, voluptuous form. My milky magic. There is no room for a weakling such as Tania. I am reborn in milk. I am… Lactania!"