FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Caramel

~o~O~o~

Caramel looked thoughtfully into the full-length mirror as she held the white patterned blouse up against herself and her normal red plaid shirt. A turn to the left, a twist to the right, and she still wasn't convinced that it had the growing room she desired.

She did adore the pattern of little pastel flowers embroidered delicately into the fabric, though.

A shrill beep from her handbag dragged the sandy tan bovine away from her thoughts. Extracting her phone, she silenced it with a practiced swipe before returning the blouse to its rung. She hadn't realised how much time had gotten away from her.

She was due a milking.

Resting the strap of her bag across her shoulder she exited the shop into the wider mall and made a direct beeline for the food court and the customer conveniences beyond.

The company that managed the site had actually had the foresight to cater to needs such as her own - it was one of the main reasons she favoured shopping there. Well, that and the bargain prices. But the whole setup just made life that much easier.

"Caramel!" a chirpy voice called, making her long ears twitch. Half-turning, a familiar golden-tan feathered saluki with a warm smile and soft eyes swished in and took the surprised cowgirl by the arm.

"Mabel!" Caramel blinked, then smiled, "How are you?"

She hadn't expected to run into her friend, but it wasn't an unwelcome surprise. It was unusual to see her without her children in tow, but judging by the cosmetic and clothing bags she was carrying - Guerillain, Estee Labrador, Terrié - Mabel was clearly treating herself to a little self-indulgence today.

Knowing how hard she worked, Caramel could sympathise.

"I was actually just about to go grab a bite to eat." the canine leaned in conspiratorially, amberous eyes twinkling like she was planning some great mischief. She whispered, "Care to join me?"

"With my metabolism?" Caramel gestured at herself. In her line of work she could always afford to indulge a little. And she was hungry, even if she hadn't realised until Mabel had presented her with the prospect of food, "Of course. What're we having?"

The smirk in Mabel's eyes spread, tugging at the corner of her mouth..

Brace yourself. A quip is coming!

"Don't you dare say burgers!" Caramel laughed.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Mabel feigned indignity, raising her handpaws in mock surrender. Arm locked with the cowgirl and shopping around her other wrist, it was less than convincing.

"Carnivores." Caramel rolled her eyes, her smile not fading in the slightest.

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

"And he just wouldn't keep his paws off until the kids were asleep." Mabel smirked before spearing her last small bite of key lime pie, humming contentedly and closing her eyes as she savoured the tang.

Caramel herself wore a rosey blush, idly pushing the one remaining strawberry from her cheesecake across the plate. As was her way she spent most of the meal listening to her friend talk, happy to listen. And as always with her smitten saluki friend, the topic of her favourite wolf hadn't taken long to appear.

"Apollo really is into you."

"He's a big sweetheart." Mabel agreed, surrendering her fork to the empty plate in front of her. It collided with a slight clatter,cutting through the conversational din that always seemed to consume the food court. Caramel gave up on her last strawberry, reaching instead for her napkin.

"How about you?" Mabel leaned in, elbows on the table, intertwining her fingers and resting her muzzle atop them, "No cute lady trying to work her way into your life?" she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, the cowgirl's cheeks burning furiously in reply.

"You know I'm not looking right now." she dabbed delicately at her lips.

"Uh-huh. Your lips say that." Mabel leaned in closer still, whispering as she licked her teeth, "But your blush says something else."

"It's just a little warm in here." Caramel sank into her seat, chocolatey bangs dropping from behind her long ears to almost hide her face.

Mabel chuckled openly, sitting back and draping her arm over the back of her seat, "I'm just teasing."

"I know, I know." Caramel sighed, brushing aside her hair with a flick of her ears. Attempting a deep, settling breath, the tension deflated with a sigh, "I'm just getting a little grumpy, I guess."

Mabel looked her close friend up and down for a moment. She'd known Caramel long enough to know exactly what she did for a living, and she knew her well enough to recognise a couple of physical clues. The gentle rise and fall of the cowbell nestled at the top of the cowgirl's cleavage offered a vantage point over her growing conundrum to those who recognised the signs.

The saluki smiled warmly, "I'm keeping you from your routine." she said in understanding, "Don't let me keep you."

Before Caramel could reply her canine friend was on her feet. The bovine belle scrambled with little dignity to grab her purse and find her own footing. By the time she was fully up and stable Mabel was all the way around to her side of the table and pulling her into a friendly hug.

Bust to bust, Caramel gave off a slightly startled moo, the added pressure uncomfortable. Mabel was one of the few non-bovines she knew who could almost give her a run for her money in that department.

Almost, her subconscious added with a small swell of pride.

Fortunately for the added pressure, it didn't last long before Mabel withdrew.

Holding the cowgirl by the shoulders, she beamed, "Don't be a stranger."

Caramel turned slightly and returned a side-on embrace. She wouldn't dream of it.

~o~O~o~

More than an hour late... Caramel couldn't recall the last time she'd postponed her schedule by a full hour, much less more. Bumping into her friends was always something she'd make time for, even with her own errands to run.

The strawberry cheesecake was also an absolute no-brainer! The rich cream. The fluffy ricotta. The soft buttered biscuit base... Oooh, and the freshest, slightly tart strawberries in a smooth compote...It took all her efforts to not drool.

All that aside, now she was just getting uncomfortable.

Idling in her car, hemmed in on all sides by stationary traffic, the cowgirl mentally berated herself for not seizing the opportunity to address her distinctly bovine conundrum before leaving the mall. She knew they had a room set up to handle it. Crisp air-conditioned air. Soothingly warm white mood-lighting. Unironic faux-leather upholstery. Rhythmic chillout music that could set your day back hours... Words like relaxing, or soothing; she couldn't think of them without that room coming to mind. And who could blame her? The entire setup was textbook.

And yet here she was, watching the minutes go by faster than the traffic.

"I'll just go home. It's only half an hour's drive..." she snarkily berated herself, glaring at the tail lights of the stationary car in front. It proved unconvincing, and the car remained obstinately in place.

It certainly didn't help that it was a hot, sticky summer's day out. Sure, the chill draft of her car's AC certainly took the edge off. If the car had been moving, though, it would've been cooler still. Her car warned her it was in the mid thirties outside, and it was doing its darndest to get it into the mid to high teens inside. Failing, but still trying.

And yet above all else, it was the way that her seatbelt kept tugging ever-too-insistently across her torso that repeatedly demanded her attention. Doing naught but offering additional pressure and discomfort to an increasingly torturous situation she finally opted to unbuckle and try to relax.

With a sigh, the bovine shifted in her seat, one hand absently digging into the fabric of her shirt to unstick her bra's underwire from its firmly-lodged place beneath her bust. It was only marginally more comfortable, and if she listened carefully she was certain she could hear it rusting due to her natural humidity, but at least it ceased adding further undue pressure.

A muffled alarm from inside her bag startled the cowgirl for a moment, until she reached in and grabbed it, reading the screen in disbelief, "Two hours?!"

No wonder she felt so full.

She tossed it onto the passenger seat in disgust.

She tried to not focus on the sensation of growing pressure, nor the stimulation of the fabric of her bra against sensitive skin. She simply didn't want to make it worse.

Instead, she pulled up an app to help her find an alternative route. Fortune was on her side in that moment as it found one with a minimum of fuss. Unfortunately, it meant making it as far as the next junction in order to turn off. At her current rate of travel, ten minutes,at the very least.

With an exasperated sigh she switched off the engine completely and returned to watching stationary traffic.

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

Twenty minutes had passed before Caramel actually managed to make the turn-off. She'd been incredibly thankful that the sideroad had been clear. Less grateful when her subsequent app-suggested diversion led her to another junction plastered with barriers and "Road Closed" signs. She'd been forced to turn right when she'd wanted to go left, and as a result found herself in some unfamiliar industrial outskirt of the town rather than gliding down the freeway out beyond the leafy suburbs to her farm and freedom.

Worse still, there didn't appear to be any signs along this route offering an alternative back to the freeway, and every time she consulted the app it just tried to send her back down the closed road again.

It was either drive on, or head back towards the huge tailback.

She had neither time nor inclination to endure either. So she stubbornly drove on at ten in a thirty zone, peering down each and every sideroad for any hint of escape from... Well, whatever this place was.

All was going well, relatively speaking, until blue and red flashing lights filled her mirrors.

Caramel applied the brake and knocked the gear stick into neutral.

Spying in the mirror, the largest black bear she'd ever laid eyes on climbed out of the police cruiser and began walking towards where she was sitting. She gulped, placing her hands on the wheel where he could see them, grip perhaps a bit tighter than it needed to be as she tried to not panic.

As the officer reached her window he rested one of his great paws on the roof of her car, leaning into it and giving the window a light knuckle-rap with the other. The entire car tilted in his direction as he settled into it.

"Wind down the window, ma'am." he sounded gruff but non threatening.

A nod, and she did as instructed, the great bear taking a knee to be at her eye level once he was confident she could clearly hear him.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?"

Caramel shook her head sending a rippling wave through her dangling locks.

"Do you know how long I was following you?" The officer raised a curious eyebrow.

She shook her head again, worry fluttering through her stomach

"You've been driving along here at ten KPH for the last kilometer."

"I'm sorry, Officer..." her voice wavered with uncertainty, "I was lost and trying to find my way..."

He nodded, but his expression remained professionally neutral, "I saw you driving whilst using your phone, Miss."

The app.

"Sorry!" she offered, panic rising, "I'm just a little lost and I was trying to use an app to find my way only it sent me down here and-"

The officer cut her off with a raised paw, stopping her before she got too carried away and hyperventilated, "Miss, it's against the law to use your phone while you're driving. And it's dangerous to drive at such low speeds, especially when distracted."

An uneasy fidget was the only reply she could muster.

"Licence and registration please."

Nervous, worried she was going to get in trouble, and eager to do as she was told, Caramel turned and all but dove across to her bag on the passenger seat. With undue momentum her bust knocked into the gearstick. The car slipped half-way into gear. And with the cowgirl's startled moo the vehicle gave a mighty lurch forwards into an abrupt stall. The huge bear beside her window fell back as it did this, only just managing to break his fall.

When the moment had settled the officer picked himself up. Caramel was still catching her breath, holding onto the bag and chair for dear life. The bear reached in across her as she straightened up, removed the keys from the ignition.

"Out of the car please, Miss." he instructed as he withdrew himself.

With a sigh, Caramel unbuckled her seatbelt. It was shaping up to be a very long day.

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

Having finally convinced the officer that she wasn't some crazy person, an unqualified driver, or even a curb-crawler, Caramel had been allowed to carry on her way with no more than a warning.

The whole thing had been almost stupidly embarrassing, but the one upside was that the great lumbering bear had at least been kind enough to give her directions to get back to the freeway. Now, cruising along at a steady hundred, she wasn't more than about twenty minutes from home.

Home

Frankly, she couldn't get back there soon enough. She now felt so full - so very full - that every single little bump in the surface of the road sent a torturous bounce through her overburdened bosom.

Again, her phone alarm sounded its repeat warning, signalling that she was now three hours behind schedule.

"I know, I know!" she tapped the screen without even looking, silencing its protests. She didn't need reminding. There was no way her body would let her forget. And just like that, with delay after delay, she was now officially closer to her next scheduled milking than she was to the one she'd missed.

A curse escaped under her breath as a slight jolt reverberated through the steering wheel, up her arms, and dissipated into her torso.

Soon, she promised herself, adjusting her seatbelt for the hundredth time.

A loud ding from the dash promptly made her a liar.

Amber warnings lit up the instrument panel like it was the night before Christmas, a distinctly out-of-place whirring emanating from somewhere beneath the car adding to the threat of impending disaster. And despite how firmly she planted the gas to the floor the vehicle staunchly refused to do anything but slow down.

"No, no, no!" the exasperated bovine pleaded with the unhappy machine, "Please, not now! Save it until next week! Tomorrow! Even an hour from now! Just let me get home!"

Her pleas fell on deaf ears and she was forced to coast to a stop in the nearest refuge area. With an unceremonious clunk it refused to go any further, so she killed the engine with a whimper.

Head dropping, horns resting atop the wheel, Caramel honestly felt like crying. Why were the fates determined to punish her? All she wanted to do was get home, relax herself into a nice de-stressing bubble bath, and let her milking machine have its way until the sun went down and the water turned cold.

She really didn't deserve the day she was having. Did anyone?

A few deep breaths relieved the building stress, though offered absolutely nothing for the pressure within. The uncomfortable heat in her chest made the whole thing feel like a strained necessity rather than earnest relief. It was also a reminder that she just didn't have the time to waste on self-pity.

She needed to act.

"Okay... " she composed herself as best she could, looking over to the passenger seat at her idle phone, "Okay!"

Seizing it, the bovine belle navigated slowly through the phone's various screens. No muscle memory to help her find the desired app meant that it took a moment two to find the right one, but she got there quickly enough.

"Press for help." she read the only button it offered after loading. With the slightest of shrugs, she made to press it.

Caramel all but leapt out of her skin with a startled moo when an eager rap at the window interrupted her attempt. The phone itself managing to escape her flailing grasp entirely, finding the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Turning to look, the cowgirl's gaze fell upon the warm, wide smile of a snowfox vixen in dark overalls, visibly stained with any number of oily, grimy streaks. A high visibility vest far too ill-equipped to ever possibly close across her torso, a distinctive navy cap hiding a tangled flop of hair and worn as lopsidedly as the grin on her lips completed the look - "stereotypical mechanic" no doubt the name of the fashion. All bore the same corporate logo as the the breakdown app, though the cut and strain of the overalls distorted the signage somewhat...

"You alright in there, hun?" The vixen called through the glass, an accent thick with some kind of Nordic twang audible even over the roar of passing traffic.

Caramel politely let the window down, "It, um... It broke down..."

The vulpine chuckled warmly, smirk never wavering, "I can see that. What say you let me take a look?" she suggested.

Caramel barely had time to meep before the fox practically dived through the window, pulling on the seat adjuster enroute and pushing the bovine further back into the car to make room. Her other hand vanished beneath the dash, almost as if she were reaching for the pedals, a hidden lever releasing the car's hood with a loud pop.

In a blink the fox was out again, the swoosh of a very puffy tail marking her egress around to the front of the car. Caramel could only blink.

What just happened?

Leaning out of the window she peered around the front of her car, the would-be rescuer already snout-deep in the engine bay, cap reversed, tongue out, and a look of intense scrutiny scrunching up her face.

"I didn't even finish with the app." Caramel felt confused, "How did you-"

"Saw the whole thing." the vixen replied without even looking up. She reached down, struggling, and seemed to jostle something only just within her reach, "Saw the sticker in your back window. So I pulled up with you."

The confused cowgirl turned just enough to glance in her rearview mirror, the small, distinctive sticker she'd placed in the back window just visible off to the bottom corner. She'd often wondered what purpose they actually served, and she felt some relief that she'd given in to her sense of caution and followed the instructions to place it there back when her breakdown membership welcome pack had first arrived.

There was a loud clunk from beneath the car and a loud tut from the vulpine, "Can you knock it into first for me?"

Facing forwards again in the driver's seat, the clunk repeated itself as Caramel obligingly pushed the shifter forwards. The fox in front nodded, pulling a rag from some hidden pocket inside the torso of her overalls to wipe the dirt from her hands. It didn't help as she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of the same handpaw and left the grubbiest streak of grime through her otherwise pristine white fur.

"Well, I've got good news and I've got bad news." she closed the hood with a well-practiced thwack, "The good news is it's a pretty easy fix."

She came all the way up to the window, resting an elbow against the door and dropping to a squat, "Bad news is I can't fix it here on the road."

Biting her lip, Caramel tried to restrain a frown. Every moment away from home was a moment deprived of the relief said home promised. Breathing too deeply was starting to add uncomfortable pressure, which meant it was getting harder still to find her calming centre.

The vixen could read the unease in the bovine's expression, "Don't worry. I know a guy, not too far from here. He'll fix it up for you in no time!"

"Thank you..." Caramel offered, barely more than a whisper, preoccupied by bigger problems than her car, "Does he... Does he have a restroom?"

The snowfox blinked twice, "Um. Sure?" then looked up and down the road, "You desperate?"

Caramel made to answer, but silence fell from her lips. If she started talking, she'd start explaining. If she started explaining, it was even more time she didn't have wasted. So instead, she nodded.

"Alright." the arctic vixen sprang up, taking a second to stretch, "Let's get you on tow. We'll have this all sorted soon." she dashed off at a pace.

Caramel watched her in the mirror as she returned to her truck. Frankly, soon couldn't come soon enough.

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

"Here we go." the snowfox in the driver's seat said as she guided the truck up to a small, run-down little garage, car in tow.

To Caramel, the building practically looked abandoned. The corrugated walls were a rusted, faded grey from a long-forgotten paint job.. The forecourt looked like it had once been tarmac, though some of the potholes could well have been borrowed from the surface of the moon. And the sign over the open shutter doors was so worn by sunlight that she couldn't make out anything more than the phone number along the bottom.

"Don't let the decor fool you," the vixen began as if plucking the very thoughts from Caramel's mind, "Best mechanic in the entire province, Mal."

Judging by the half-dozen cars arrayed around the entrance and the few visible inside the shop, this mechanic sure was popular. Though one or two of the vehicles out front seemed to be in varying stages of scrappage or being harvested for parts, at least one of them was clearly a vintage truck of some sort. There were a few much more modern examples, and Caramel assumed belonged to clients.

Inside, two vehicles were suspended well above her head-height, with one vacant lift between them. Parts littered the floor beneath the raised cars, some old and some apparently new, but what she could see of the rest of the interior was clean, almost clinical, and surprisingly tidy and organised given the exterior of the place.

They hadn't even come to a complete stop before the fox was releasing her seatbelt, "Let me handle this." she urged.

Caramel silently nodded, taking off her own overly uncomfortable belt as the truck stopped with a grinding jolt.

"Yo, Mal!" the vixen yelled as she hopped out and slammed her door shut. She stalked towards the building with purpose, workboots crunching in the gravelly remains of the lot.

She bellowed again and vanished from sight into the building. Caramel slid with much less ease out of the vehicle. Surveying the lot, it seemed a pretty pleasant locale. She could hear the freeway in the distance, and just along the road she could see the beginnings of leafy suburbia. They were only a few junctions away from her home, and yet this was somewhere she'd never really passed. She'd never had reason to.

Her reverie was broken when the snow fox emerged from the building with a loud guffaw, "We both know you couldn't handle it in the curves! Anyway, Prince Charming, here's the damsel in distress."

Caramel blinked Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the vixen, though several heads and a full neck taller, was a giraffe! The petite bovine flicked her ears nervously. He must've been more than twice her height!

"Ah, hello." he stepped forwards, offering a surprisingly clean hand for the cowgirl to shake, "Svala tells me your car needs a quick fix."

Taking his hand, Caramel blushed but nodded.

Stooping so he could whisper almost conspiratorially into her ear, he added, "The restroom is the door just behind the office." he straightened up with an incredibly warm smile on his face, "You can't miss it."

If Caramel had darted off any quicker she would've put the roadrunner to shame.

The snow vixen chuckled, "Eager."

"They often are." the giraffe nodded, then turned back to the fox, "Let's take a look at her car."

"Should be a quick fix."

"Last time you said that I lost almost a day of my life." Mal offered a knowing smirk.

"I'll make it a week next time."

The giraffe held up his hands in mock surrender.

~o~O~o~

Caramel locked the door behind her like she'd been chased into the room by velociraptors. As always, the threat of impending release had made the internal pressure all the more intolerable, and though she regretted the haste of her dash and its aftershocks,she was finally in a position to do something about it!

Glancing around, she was presented with a simple spartan cubicle and a sink that, whilst clean, had clearly seen better days.

The sink would definitely suffice.

Reaching for her bag on her shoulder purely out of habit, Caramel's fingers clutched only air, and she realised that she'd left it sitting on the passenger seat of her car. Should she go back for it? The low-capacity manual pump she kept in it for just such an emergency wasn't actually equipped to handle her full volume. But with a sink to empty the contents into it would have been the absolute height of convenience.

But, no. She could get this done by hand. Anything to avoid any more delays!

Reaching back, a practiced click of her fingers released the clasp of her bra even through her plaid shirt. The trademark bovine heft of her upper torso descended a few inches in reply,.expressing their appreciation at being released from their bindings. The momentary reprieve was enough to draw a wisp of relief from Caramel's lips.

Slipping a hand beneath the coarse material of her shirt, accidentally jangling her bell as she reached across herself, she managed to persuade the straps off her arms. Reaching up from her untucked midriff she plucked the cherished-support/torture-device free and stowed it securely over the coat-hook on the back of the restroom door.

Catching sight of her reflection, the brunette fronds of her hair framing rosey blushing cheeks, she noticed for the first time just how full she actually looked. The blush wasn't confined to her cheeks. Tracing it with delicate fingertips down through the alabaster shadow of her neck, it reached her clavicle and lightly intoned the deeper caramel tan of her décolletage. Beneath her touch it felt warm, and as she applied light pressure the taut swell of her skin resisted far more than it should. Looking up again, golden eyes above a smattering of freckles gazed back, pleading with her, begging to know what she was waiting for.

Glancing lower, the bovine could see the subconscious reaction to the moment that her body was having. Its eagerness for relief to the mounted pressure was clearly visible even through the not-particularly-thin fabric of her farm-shirt. It was so blatant that a half-turn to one side confirmed, in profile, that it definitely was not a look she could get away with in public.

Flushed cheeks bursting into an outright inferno of bashfulness, Caramel was grateful of her solitude.

Taking the lower hem decisively in her fingers, she lifted the shirt in a practiced, fluid motion and pulled it up over her chest. The two sources of her discomfort fell free with a bounce and a sway, much more taut and distended than she usually allowed. They weren't yet sore, but as she testingly pressed her fingers into the underside of her skin much as she had along the top, the extra resistance was distinct.

"Hmmm." she hummed thoughtfully. This may have been a new record for her.

It was time.

Leaning forwards slightly to better her aim, she took a very careful, practiced hold of herself and braced for the sensation of relief.

She all but leapt out of her skin with a yelp when a series of loud knocks thundered against the door..

"You alright in there, miss?" she recognised the giraffe's voice.

Leaning against the sink and taking three deep breaths to calm her racing heart, Caramel finally called back, "Yes, thank you!"

There was a pause.

Then, "Your car's ready to go."

Caramel blinked at herself in the mirror. Frowned. Then threw her arms in the air with a loud jangle of her bell, hissing a word that should never be repeated in polite company.

"I'll be right out." the cowgirl eventually grumbled

She tugged her top back down with no mind to straightening it out. The day clearly wasn't done with her yet.

~o~O~o~

When the bovine emerged from the restroom Mal noted that she looked decidedly dishevelled. Plaid shirt untucked at one side, collar askew, and a sheen to her brow like she'd spent the last couple of minutes trying to fight her way out of a sauna.

The giraffe donned his best friendly smile, "Simple fix. You just had a loose..." he trailed off as he noted the look in Caranel's eyes, his own expression quickly turning to concern, "You alright? Do you... Need a few more minutes?"

Caramel brushed down her shirt as best she could, tucking in the loose tail and pulling the bell around her neck back into its proper place below her clavicle. She felt flushed. She was not in any way comfortable, the pull of gravity alone now enough to agitate her. The swell of each inward breath drew torturous motion between her sensitive skin and the weave of her farmwear. She just wanted the whole thing to be over.

"I'm fine."

Her tone was flat, unconvincing, but the giraffe was wise enough to know the danger there and chose not to press. He didn't want to make her feel any worse.

"It was a simple fix." Mal started over, "No parts. Just the labour."

"Okies..." Caramel, out of habit, again reached for a bag that wasn't there. She caught herself as she realised, "My bag's in my car."

She stalked off, heading out the door, bell jangling in time to very purposeful steps. Her tail whipped back and forth in time to her steps, betraying her agitation.

The giraffe looked out after her in puzzlement, unsure of precisely what was actually going on, before turning to his side and eyeing the cowgirl's car elevated on the lift beside him.

She must've been having a really bad day.

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

Caramel winced as a particularly deep pothole made everything bounce and jiggle. The seatbelt was out of the way and the plaid blouse had so few buttons left done up that it was bordering on indecent - most of them were probably beyond fastening now anyway. The threat of relief had done the cowgirl no favours, the anticipation seemingly increasing her production and only making things worse.

And the hourly post-alarm reminder sounding to let her know she was four hours late was just rubbing salt in the wound.

Popping the overstrained top button of the few that remained, her entire bosom heaved as a little tension was relieved. She winced as the fabric teased her tender teats. They had been tormenting her incessantly since leaving the bathroom at the garage, demanding of her that she yield and relieve the pressure.

"Soon." she promised, rubbing around the protrusion in her blouse, trying to soothe but to no avail.

Thankfully home was just around the corner. Unfortunately, as she turned onto the final residential street, the lane dividing the end two houses which served as a driveway to her property was only slightly less bumpy than the garage forecourt.

Navigating it would be unavoidable torture.

But at least she would finally be home!

Eagerly yanking at the indicator stalk, she braced herself for the onslaught.

That is, until the elderly ewe who lived in the final lot before the turn-off stepped down from her porch, merrily flagging the bovine down.

Caramel was quick to stop, but she instantly berated herself for not even thinking. She could've pretended to not see the waving Mrs Arcott and played it off with an apology the next time they met. Reflex was a bitch sometimes, she frowned, as the ewe slowly hobbled towards her.

Quickly fumbling at the front of her shit in a vain attempt to reclaim some decency, the button Caramel had undone last proved to be too much of a strain, and no matter how the cowgirl tried she just couldn't persuade the offending thing to slip back through its respective eye. She was just too swollen with milk.

Thinking quickly, she instead undid the remaining few and tied the blouse off with an improvised bow. The would-be crop top didn't hide much. But it hid just enough to not be indecent. And she was careful to avoid pulling it too tight, leaving it as a simple single knot.

Mrs Arcott was there no more than a moment later, "Hello Caramel, dear." she smiled.

"Hello Mrs Arcott." Caramel gave her best warm smile. The aged sheep was like a surrogate grandmother to everyone in the wider neighbourhood. They all knew her, and she knew all of them. She baked, she invited people in for lemonade, and she was always a warm and welcoming presence. So everyone treated her like family, "Lovely warm day today."

"Please, dear, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Dot?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Arcott. Dot" she caught herself, "Force of habit."

The old ewe chuckled, adjusting her thick-framed glasses, "Quite alright. I just wanted to invite you around for dinner this Sunday. It's the Even side of the street this week, and that technically includes you!"

Ah, Sunday. Caramel had almost forgotten. Each weekend for the entire summer Mrs Arcott would alternate inviting everyone to her home for either dinner or a barbecue. One week, the even-numbered homes. The next, the odds. And then at the end of the month the entire neighbourhood! They were lucky Mrs Arcott's garden was so big! Everybody always attended, because it was just the done thing. The warm and welcoming family atmosphere; the good company. They'd all bring a little something to share. They all knew the ewe seldomly got to see her own family, so they knew how much it meant to her.

Everybody chipped in.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world! I'm bringing the cheesecake, right?"

"Please!" Dot nodded, "I don't know how you make them, but they're always everybody's favourite dessert!"

"Ah," Caramel smiled, "The secret's in the double cream."

She subtly soothed her aching bosom. She'd be making an extra big cake this weekend.

"Just don't let little Damien eat it all again!"

Caramel's thoughts wandered back to the last gathering, and how the youngest boy of the Old English Sheepdog family at Number Four had practically inhaled her cake. His parents stepping in had ultimately saved some dessert for the rest of them, though the little pup had fought them all the way.

"I'll be on guard!" The cowgirl saluted with a chuckle. She regretted the outburst, the knot in her blouse noticeably slipping an inch or so with a heavy jolt. Caramel tried to subtly tighten it, but realised it would be impossible to do so without being obvious.

"Such a sweet little mischief he is." the elderly ewe carried on, oblivious.

"Mmmhmmm." Caramel shifted in her seat, leaning back a little in the hopes it would help. She didn't count on the slight roll of her chest this would cause, breasts uncooperatively attempting to roll off to the sides. The knot she'd improvised just wasn't up the the task she was asking of it, and it gave out a little more.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, startling Mrs Arcott as the blouse came undone. The bovine was quick to cross her arms, holding herself in place, and trying to pass it off as a casual move.

The yelp was all Mrs Arcott seemed to notice, "You okay, dear?"

Caramel nodded, "Yes. I best be off." she tried to excuse herself politely, "Things to do at the farm."

"Okay dear. You take care until Sunday."

"Thank you," she slipped the car into gear, other arm still doing its best to preserve her modesty, and carefully pulled away, "See you Sunday!" she waved an arm out of the open window as soon as she was safely by and able to let go of herself.

The ewe waved back, and Caramel distantly heard, "And button your blouse before you leave the car!"

Caramel's blush was as bright as her brakelights.

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

Every bump in the road was a new personal hell.

Caramel had given up trying to constrain herself. No blouse, no seatbelt. Each jolt, sway and sideways rock of the car had acted on her like she was some kind of milk-laden Newton's Cradle.

It was uncomfortable.

It was undignified.

And the fresh air on her bare breasts was further torture to her exposed nipples.

By the time she finally pulled up to her home the bovine had never felt so full in her entire life!

Pausing only to grab her bag and her shopping from the car before climbing her porch, Caramel eagerly fumbled with the house keys. A clear victim of her own biology, relief was just the other side of the door...

With hands full from her trek to the mall, though, she key deigned to betway her and slipped from her grasp, landing on the doormat with a clatter. Aggrieved, she reached to retrieve them without even thinking.

Normally, she'd be fully clothed and restrained. Normally, she'd not be so dangerously over-full.

Exposed to the world by her unbuttoned blouse, the helpless cowgirl overbalanced. Letting go of her bags with a panicked flail, she just managed to catch herself with outstretched palms, tail trying with all its might to counterbalance by flagging straight up in the air. Her arms absorbed the momentum from her core, but her breasts clearly had their own idea of what should happen next. They kept going, and with an almighty, hefty smack, collided with some force into her upper arms, almost knocking them out from beneath her..

"Moo!" she exclaimed, startled, as the sense of pressure flared into a sudden peak.

A dangerously familiar warm, tingling sensation began to spread from within her breasts. A tingling that seemed to be rapidly gathering pace. The tension she felt increased, and then the strong desire to relax overcame her.

"Oh no!"

Panic struck, and the cowgirl instantly forgot the bags she'd dropped, grabbing the keys as quickly as she could and mashing them into the lock with enough force to make the whole frame shake.

She needed to be inside the house.

Now.

The tingling reached her areolae and nipples just as the lock clicked. She could feel the first beads forming at her teats as her hand pulled on the door handle. She bit her lip to hold back the deep, lowing moo that always signalled her surrender to her let-down.

She refused to let it happen on her own doorstep!

The door swung wide, but the rising tide within meant that her knees were too weak to carry her. So she crawled forwards on hand and knee even as her body threatened to surrender to the sensation. She was through the door, and she managed to kick it shut with a swift swing of one leg. Desperately, she pulled her open shirt from her arms and tossed it urgently against the nearest wall.

Caramel's eyes scrunched tight, losing the fight and surrendering herself to the moment.

Arms letting out, bell clattering loudly against bare floorboards, she released her lip and let out a needy moo as her torso hit the floor. Her weight on her breasts, pressing them sideways out from beneath her, it was finally just too much. Beads became a flow which quickly became a streaming torrent as her milk finally found freedom, pooling to her left and right, where her nipples rested on the floor.

Eyes half opened, her breath short and sharp, she felt warm and soothed all over as the pressure of almost the entire day was finally released. Everything else was promptly forgotten and Caramel allowed herself to relish the sense of relief she'd been craving for hours.

It certainly wasn't dignified, sprawled out there in her hallway and making an absolute mess of the floor, separated from the world by only her front door. Not given the time to reach the bath, the sink, the kitchen.

Even her bedroom.

But it felt good. At last, the end to a long day determined to push her beyond her limits

Pulling her arms back Caramel used them to press lightly on the exposed sides of her breasts, expediting the release and adding enough force to her streams of milk that the growing pool beneath her covered the floor, reaching from one wall to the other.

Oh boy...

She repeated the motion a few more times, slowly, firmly, applying pressure in careful soothing rhythm. It was the most relieving massage she'd ever had.

The cowgirl continued like this as the moments stretched out before her, until her flow at last began to ebb. It came to the point where she stopped expressing milk without the added force from her arms, so she experimented instead with a milking motion towards her teat. The moment her fingers encountered her areola she regretted it.

"Ouch." she winced through clenched teeth as she brushed against the overstimulated skin. "Too sensitive."

Caramel slowly sat up, droplets of her milk escaping in small number and falling to her lap as she gathered her wits. Gravity briefly caused her to leak again, but as the streams promptly slowed to a near stop and became small rivulets tracing down the curve of her bosom, she surveyed the damage she'd done to the hallway of her home.

"Nothing a mop won't fix..." the cowgirl whispered to herself as she caught her breath.

It was always like this, after the fact. A few moments of calm, contemplative silence as her body gave thanks for the release. The greater the initial pressure, the better it always felt to finally let go. Caramel couldn't recall the last time she'd felt so chilled out.

She could've sat there until the sun went down, wet with her own milk, cooling her fur and skin as it dried against the air. It just felt natural.

But, the mess she'd just made wouldn't clean itself, and she needed to deal with it before she could allow herself the pleasure of further relaxation.

A bath wouldn't go amiss either.

Not that there was much to do. Bring in and put away the shopping. Mop up.

"Best get dressed first." she reminded herself.

Leaning over, no longer paying any mind to how unrestrained and exposed she was, Caramel retrieved her plaid top from the wall to her left. She;d need a further moment to dry off before she could put it on, but that was fine.

Turning right to retrieve her bra, she found nothing. She looked to her left. Then right again.

Then remembered the giraffe and the garage restroom.

"...Shit!"

~o~O~o~

~o~O~o~

The shutters were locked down, and save the faint light illuminating the various exits, the garage was closed and empty. A tall giraffe emerged from the restroom, carrying in his hand the most impressively rigged bra he had ever laid his eyes upon.

"Well," he examined the straps, "If my tow rope ever breaks, at least I've got alternatives."

~o~O~o~

By Sval