Chapter 7: Revenge of the Assmonkey

Jessie sat alone in one of the old, refurbished laboratories back at the Brownfield site. Originally used for quality control; she'd been given free reign to make full use of her chemistry knowledge in Cecil's quest.

She sat in a swivel chair ... naked.

"Three minutes until the next test," she mouthed to herself; glancing behind at a complex array of boiling beakers and glass probes connected to digitized analyzers.

There were also several monitors here that allowed live-viewing of additional, sensitive areas of the plant. Cecil had become worried about the prisoner holding-tanks, and insisted on routing the cameras to display the room up here in Jessie's own lab.

She was also watching a second monitor connected to yet more illegal spy-cameras showing a seemingly peaceful dwelling in a residential neighborhood right here in town.

Jessie stretched languidly, her naked breasts bobbing in the florescent light as she smiled, punched in some keys to adjust the camera angle in the holding tank. There was another button that allowed intercom.

The captive Nympha were at opposite ends of their prison. They spent all day, everyday in each other's presence, and often desired privacy - to the extent it was possible.

Paradise was watching a TV screen at the far northeast corner of the cylindrical holding tank.

"No channels; just tapes of psych tests Cecil uses to try and get inside our heads. Maybe I'll get inside your head, Cecil! Maybe next time I'll find your weakness." Paradise masturbated as she spoke, fingers thrusting luridly into her own pussy.

Pacifica had found an errant shard of metal that she was using to carve CECIL into the floor, in some compulsive gesture of great need. Occasionally, the intercom picked up the words - 'he'll fuck me ... fuck me soon ... soon..."

Then the Nympha saw the camera moving above them, and knew that there were being watched actively.

"Is that you bitch?" Paradise sneered.

"She owes us..." Pacifica muttered.

"Neither of you have the control you think you do..." Paradise remarked suspiciously.

"What are you talking about?" Jessie asked through the intercom speaker with an annoyed tone.

"We know what's happening to Cecil; we've always known!" Pacifica said, a gleam in her blue eyes.

"But now he's re-adjusted the distributor in this tank to give us barely a days worth of sperm!" Paradise explained angrily.

"And you want me to fix it? Reintroduce the error that caused him to overfeed you?" Jessie predicted.

Paradise's eyes narrowed; you know what can happen if you stop cooperating!" The threat hung in the air.

"Like he would believe YOUR kind anyway. You're losing ground everyday; and I'm not afraid of your threats." That got both Nympha furious, and both could be seen shouting and pointing at the camera, after the intercom was switched off.

Jessie focused on the residential house; powerful microphones and spy cameras revealed a scene that was becoming surprisingly common. A thirty-plus male divorcee was thrashing on the carpet on the living room here in this house; it was difficult to make out details from the outside; but with image enhancement Jessie could see curly-haired female figures on all fours, squealing with glee as the shape of a man with three golf-club length cocks delivered a series of full-body, pounding thrusts into her from behind. The microphones picked up words that sounded like: "My Ass! Do me in the Ass!"

Another naked, female shape was sitting on a couch apparently digging her fingers into her own cunt; masturbating brazenly, openly in front of this man; likely as a way to drive his arousal to yet greater heights.

But outside the house an angry, muttering old woman was slowly hobbling up the cobblestone walkway ringing the dwelling towards the front door; muttering complaints against the occupants.

" ... not returning his own mother's calls! Just having that hussy answer the phone! ... not even trying to get back together with Susie, his wife! Well ... momma's gonna get to the bottom of this dissipated life the boy has fallen into!"

But from behind her came a startlingly attractive redhead in a sheer cocktail dress. The redhead said something that didn't pick up on the mic.

"Because he's my SON! That makes it my business!" the eighty-ish old lady howled.

On the camera, it was very hard to make out the faint, bluish-purple mists emitted from the redhead.

"No, Mrs. Hensely, it's alright ... you talked to your son just yesterday; he's got his life on track."

"WHAT! what kind of mularkey is ... is ... th ... the smell I ... didn't..." Eyes glazing over. "Yesterday?"

"Yes, the redhead said with maternal condescension. "You spoke with your son yesterday, his life is back on track." Sultry, moist lips blew a few more whiffs of the faint, flowery gases.

"Well, no need to stick around here; I spoke with my son yesterday; his life is back on track. Not sure why I came out here..." The eighty-something old biddie, forgetting her intent completely settled back into her Oldsmobile, confused ... but knowing she had no reason to be here, even as her son cavorted madly with naked alien sperm-whores behind the brick walls before her.

Jessie smiled; "Cecil doesn't need to know about this harem. Not yet..." fingers flew across the keyboard. "File shred ... delete ... save over again ... should make this recording unrecoverable ... good, good."

There was a static-filled buzz from the intercom system. Ahh ... that meant someone was at the front gate! Not that very many people were likely to come by that way! Officially; this site was a condemned eco-hazard. Everything Cecil did and built here was technically illegal, but if the authorities knew, they weren't motivated to take action.

Still; even in the small towns that dotted the County, Cecil's actions weren't widely known - of course that was partially because the Nympha used their alien powers to brainwash people into ignoring evidence of his activities.

But there were a few who couldn't help but be in the know. Jessie pressed a white button near the screen that showed the front gate. It produced an irritating warning buzz and recorded message:

"THIS FACILITY HAS BEEN DESIGNATED A CHEMICAL WASTE HAZARD BY THE ENVIRONMENTAL PROTECTION AGENCY OF THE UNITED STATES; ENTRY BY NON-AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED."

"Assmonkeys." came the expected password. "It's me, Jessie; my truck's got the pipeline y'all ordered, as well as the storage units. It's just like b'fore, stuff was slated for disposal and won't be missed." She beeped him in; several gates of galvanized wire frames swung out of the way for the tractor trailer.

"So what are you wearing, Steve?" Jessie asked jokingly. She smiled as she contemplated how this man might react if he could see her naked melons as she fondled her own bosom.

"Th-that's not funny J-Jessie. Y-you know what Cecil saved me from. I can't ... don't wanna th-think about s-sexy things. I'm ... I'm back with m-my wife ... thanks to y-you. Don't wanna ... think too much ... about sex."

"Awww, you luv your wifey..." Jessie cooed; but privately she sneered.

Steve had been one of Cecil's great success stories; a man rescued from his own sexy harem hell in a successful suburban raid. Twenty-Two Nympha had been feasting on Steve's then four, eighteen-inch cocks. All that from a one-night-stand with a big-titted, babe-tastic brunette cruising a tittie-bar for lonely hearts. (and easy prey) And none easier than Steve had been, that night. Everything about her, legs ... hips ... smile ... hair ... boobs ... even her smell had cried out to Steve's deepest instincts, and he knew in mere moments he would do anything to possess her. Or was she the one that possessed him? That one-night turned into an obsession, as the lanky, blond-headed, slightly-beer gutted truck driver found himself pumping more cum into this fantastically horny hussie than he ever ejaculated in all his teen years combined! He didn't even care about losing his job and his wife! All that mattered was the intoxicating femininity of her delicious body! And her maddening, seductive scent! The primal compulsion to force his seed into her soft depths consumed him with a frightening urgency.

Wife didn't matter, job didn't matter, even less after the brunette multiplied; and Steve found himself in a house she seemed to own, suddenly surrounded with these gorgeoulicious beauty-queens pampering him, pleasuring him, and suck-fucking him every hour of every day! He should have been scared when he sprouted the extra dicks; but he couldn't stop now; having two - three - then four cocks was not half as scary as the thought of not having his harem!

But Cecil had saved him. Poisoning the whole hive; the renegade alien-hunter plus Jessie had drenched him in some kind of pesticide for days, slowly weaning him back onto solid food. Then sent him to a doctor. Cecil had tried hard to spread the word, all kinds of photos of Steve's freaky forest of dicks. It had astounded the doctor; but somehow, sometime later, that same doctor claimed to have forgotten everything; and all the medical records were destroyed. Several old, experienced nurses at the local clinic were replaced with busty, young babes, and Steve's real-life encounter became just more alien-abduction folklore.

Instead, Steve was reported to have suffered from a 'kidney disease' in the community, and Cecil helped him get a new job - in return for throwing some needed heavy industrial materials his way. Even his fat sow of a wife had taken him back. And he had only one dick again, barely ten inches long.

Thanks to Cecil.

All thanks to Cecil.

Steve drove his truck into the Brownfield chem plant.

A nearby timer dinged.

Jessie walked over, the nude curves of her creamy buttocks glistening in the cool air as she walked to the table of beakers. She took a pipette and plucked a strand of her hair; dipping it into a bubbling, clear solution, then checking it under a microscope. "No reaction." She next used the pipette to drip the same solution onto the back of her own hand. The liquid sat there, not visibly reacting. "Nothing!" she smiled a Cheshire cat grin. "Is this it? Have I found the cure I'm been after all these months?"

They had me cornered. The linebackers from the University football team, under the sweet-smelling mind-control of the pregger lingerie Nympha. But the bitches had enough control over this campus that they were able to breed in public. Five nude, nubile, and nymph(a)maniacal Italian supermodels ran towards me, desperately hungry for sperm; screaming - begging to be fucked.

These alien bitches thought they were so clever, with all their powers and erotic mating musk and addictive chemicals they used on us ... maybe I had an idea. The linebackers were slowly advancing;cautiously - not letting me maneuver past them, but also making sure that I would be trapped and then screwed into a stupor by the crazed hatchlings.

I reached into the bag I was carrying tightly, and broke the caps off of my remaining vials of Nympha milk that I had taken for testing. Immediately, I splashed as much of the creamy liquid I could into the faces of the linebackers.

That got their attention. All of them stopped short...

"So sweet..."

"Aahh ... that's the stuff!" they moaned with pleasure. Yeah, meat-heads. That's the stuff alright! More addictive than heroin or cocaine!

"There's more!" I shouted; "The girls, their breasts have more!" The men groaned, their dicks tenting through their pants. It was working! All these powers of seduction the Nympha had, it was high-time I turn their own abilities against them!

"M-more milk ... uuuuhhgghhh..." Moaned a broad-shouldered beefcake as he brushed past me!

"Wh- no! The enemy is escaping!" bemoaned the caramel-skinned pregnant Nympha.

But it was too late; apparently the yearning for more narcotic-milk was stronger than the mental-seduction of Nympha mind-control scent-glands. The two groups met in a crash of scrambling flesh. The hatchlings, for their part were uncontrollable. They were maniacally desperate for the fresh semen of human males, but it didn't matter which male! They were just as grateful to be pinned to the wall and hastily, roughly inseminated by the beefy jocks as me. This was probably better for them, as there were more of the athletes, allowing each breast-augmented Italian supermodel to have her very own man, and a raging penis dedicated only to her. it was almost ... poetic in a way. Yes, the girls were alien parasites come to consume civilization, but the thickly-muscled studs seemed quite a fit for such curvaceous, deliciously feminine beauties, as their naked bodies joined together with mutual need. The exchange was fair, the new Nympha were more than eager to offer up their painfully milk-bloated breasts to the thrusting mouths, lips, and tongues of the athletes; who were more than willing to also plunge their meaty dicks deep into the anxious vaginas of the hungering alien beauties. With the stamina of these men and the manic craving of the alien sluts; I shuddered to think of how long the mating would continue. The floor would soon be inundated with sweat, sperm, and milk. Wouldn't want to be the Janitor! (Of course, by now the Janitor probably had eight dicks and could do nothing but howl with ecstasy and projectile-ejaculate.)

"You are the one we were warned about!" growled the pregnant Nympha. Her lingerie-garters began unfolding and expanding, changing textures to become her natural butterfly wings; white but with a stunning bluish iridescence, immediately she flapped and unleashed a vast cloud of mind-control scents at me. "Just a taste of the ecstasy we will bring to your planet!"

But I was ready for this; I'd been experimenting with aerosol smelling-salts, which I'd hoped could be stored longer than live onions, and which I'd hoped could neutralize Nympha mists in mid-air. I stormed through the erotic mist cloud, blasting the pungent aerosol at my own nose. My eyes watered, I got that buzzing pain in the back of my head; but it seemed to work; as unpleasant as the sensation was, there was just no room for the Nympha chemicals to influence my brain!

She probably didn't expect me to run towards her, and reflexively jumped back at the last second. But I had a mission that I still hoped to salvage. Right next to the pregnant alien was the central department office.

"Why don't you understand?" She shifted her pregnant bulk and came after me at a stately gait. "We're just peaceful girls with a deep passion for men." Yeah, I'd heard that line before. What I was hoping for was a long-shot.

I figured that if the tape Farnsworth had mentioned were in his office, the Nympha would have it, and there was no hope in any event. But maybe ... just maybe... - why yes! There was a tape in the professor's faculty mailbox slot, arranged in a grid of wooden open-front boxes clustered together on the south wall of the central office. Odd that it would be there, Not sure what Farnsworth was thinking, and he'd likely never think about anything but sex ever again, and I had no time to complain. I snatched it and grabbed up a thick metal chair; which I hurtled out the closed, second-story window of the building!

"You have a pregnancy fetish! I can smell it on you!" She growled accusingly. " Don't you know that we are the fulfillment of your EVERY male desire!" she insisted as she began fingering her breasts. Maybe that was the problem.

I had only one real choice.

As the Nympha unleashed high-pressure streams of her sweet narcotic milk at me, I boldly leaped out the window in one swift burst; not wanting to risk even the briefest contact with the lactation.

That short of thing works out better in the movies. Tore up my pants and some broken glass gashed my shoulder a little. Also, my ankle throbbed a bit from a rough, tumbling landing near some shrubs. I welcomed the pain; knowing that it often blocked out the mind-numbing bliss from Nympha pleasure-attacks.

The campus was unusually quiet, for noon on a weekday. Very few students walking around for a university of this size. But looking at me now where a boy and a girl, with backpacks and stunned looks on their faces; having seen my daring escape from my milky nemesis. They were rather ... ordinary looking, both of them.

"There's nothing to see here," the boy announced, eyes glazing.

"No evidence of anything unusual." The girl reported; a robotic expression stealing across her face. I growled in annoyance and doused them both with my smelling-salts aerosol. Not sure if it would help. I quickly ran back to my vehicle to beat a hasty retreat.

It wasn't hard to imagine how it started; the aliens would check out the local singles' scene, they'd look for bars, nightclubs. And in those nightclubs they'd find desperately horny, powerfully virile college men. Guys almost as eager for pussy as the sperm-sucking aliens were eager for cock.

Some would have gone back to the guys' dorms. And classes would be missed. The horny young studs would soon find themselves so enraptured, that everything else would fade away into insignificance next to the nude, luscious beauty of this intoxicating uber-babe! I knew what they must've been thinking:

Forget your high-school sweetheart that you promised to stay in touch with! No girl you'd ever dated could hold a candle to this lusty, busty, she-devil! So wild, so passionate in bed! So what if you missed a few classes ... a few meals to fuck her pussy hour after hour? No problem skipping classes in college.

Yeah, and you missed one exam, but you'd make up for it on the final ... just a few more hours ... with your dick thrusting, blasting into her cunt! And she just took it all! Every drop of sperm gone, and she begged for more! More of you, more of your manhood! 'Please fuck me more' ; was her plea. And you'd never felt more virile, confident, desirable! I mean, your dick was even bigger! Awesome!! So you'd return to her glistening thighs, her engorged lower lips, full and unfurled for you! You'd penetrate that warm, inviting cunt just one more time ... just this one time ... just a few more times ... just a little more ... not much longer...

Soon, the guys wouldn't even remember whatever they had been studying. They would forget why they should NOT just keep on screwing, thrusting, fucking their sperm into the warm, willing womanhood so eager for their male blessing. Then there would be more nymph(a)maniacal hot babes! The guys in the other rooms would take notice, and advantage! There was really only one outcome when horny young men answered a knock on their doors to find a naked, glistening porn-star asking if they knew a man who could fuck her.

All their rooms ... then whole floors of the dorms would become modern-day seraglios as alien wombs grew ripe with young even as their male prey continued to inseminate them, and once fully-fertillized on a diet of human spunk, they would multiply rapidly. The first Nympha would breed a harem for her intoxicated sperm-stud, those girls would spread, and fuck the other guys, producing full-fledged Hives of alien infiltration and seduction.

The first poor dick that got duped by their ravishing charms would become penis-central, able to impregnate squads of women in a minute flat. His new life would be one of almost constant ejaculations escalating in magnitude and enjoyment; inside of and on top of a growing gallery of nubile female hardbodies beyond belief. As his virility continuously increased, the orgasms became longer, more enjoyable, and with each volcanic spurt of manseed, any hope of climbing back to sanity and mobility became further and further away. It was an endless slippery slope of orgasmic madness; the more you fucked a Nympha, the more you'd want to, and so you'd fuck her even more. But that just made you dick bigger; your libido more intense; so you'd crave the women even more, always looking forward to the next orgasm and the next.

But despite this surreal male prowess, no human female could handle his mutated manmeat; his sperm would be for the Nympha. He'd be able to feed new Nympha more, and faster, and their rate of increase would begin to increase; A sexual plague, the ultimate venereal disease.

Residence Halls would devolve into pornographic breeding grounds where sex-crazed supermodels feasted on the ever-ejaculating student body; all the while breeding more and more of their curvaceous kindred.

And then, when the dorms began to overflow with T&A, the infiltrators begin their seduction of the faculty and staff. They'd think the hot young thing was just some new transfer student that they missed. Such a ravishing figure! Those tits! And she was young! Much younger than whatever nagging crone the professor was married to! But they would have no idea ... In truth, the hot young thing with her soft lips suckling the professor's hard cock was barely 48 hours old, and had hatched from a cocoon! The professors and faculty could have important influence in the community, it could be an ideal breeding ground to start a takeover.

And now? probably just enough people running around here for a semblance of normalcy, but how many male students where there that had forgotten higher education, and now knew only to shriek in mindless delight as they blasted their alien lovers with rivers of sperm?

The tape I'd gotten from Farnsworth was a movie/video file. I decided to watch it in my private quarters. A part of me worried that - if I watched in the telecommunications center, and the exploits of the Nympha proved especially salacious, I might orgasm right there in my pants; couldn't let Jessie see that.

The movie was camera footage of what seemed to be a public restroom; nothing that really indicated the location, time, or circumstances. A slim and stacked brunette goddess was posing in front of the bathroom mirror. She set down a pink duffel bag she carried, as she studied herself in the mirror. She had the impressive build of a dancer or fitness model, but was dressed in a dark trench coat. She frowned in the mirror, as if hating to hide her spectacular curves. Her true nature was revealed as the dark trench coat slithered and morphed into a skin-tight, light-pink leotard and stocking-ensemble appropriate for a ballet-dancer. But no respectable dance troupe would hire someone with such extravagant breasts. Her line of cleavage was long and steep enough to fully contain a number#2 pencil with room to spare; the leotard bustier made it seem as though her breastacular boobs were primed to go thermonuclear with cantaloupe-sized sex-appeal. The ballet outfit was merely to show off her incredible curvature. It seemed as though this walking wet dream was ... waiting for something.

And that something came just moments later. A tired-looking, but well-dressed Rita Potosi entered the bathroom. I gasped audibly; realizing where this might be going. It was "Recall Rita" champion of many conspiracy theorists that demanded a clean sweep of Congress as a reaction to the untraceable weirdness of the past year. Red formal dress-suit slightly sprinkled with rain. Perhaps she just wanted to touch up her makeup before a big speech to her TTBO supporters.

She needn't have bothered.

"Hmm ... Ballet in town?" The Congresswoman asked.

"There will certainly be a show, Congresswoman Potosi! I hope you can enjoy it!" The dazzling Brunette beamed as she slid her pink duffel bag closer.

"Well, perhaps - but my schedule is a bit hectic." she smiled half-heartedly.

"This will only take five minutes - " the busty stranger said, darkly. Potosi frowned as she adjusted an earring; and it was too late.

It turned out that somehow, the pink ballet leotard was actually a gigantic pair of black and red-striped butterfly wings; and the woman was naked. And she had entirely enveloped the firebrand Freshman Congresswoman.

Five minutes later, clear slime dribbled from a slit hanging in mid-air. A face and shoulder squeezed from it, and the remainder of her body tumbled to the floor.

Confusion ... urgency. The woman could see herself clearly in the mirror, she had blond hair, yet her face was clearly that of an Asian teenager.Yet somehow, it was as though the rest of her body had been created from a grab-bag of the most voluptuous traits from Latina and Black strippers. A sumptuous ass with bulging curvature dominated her pelvis and seemed to cry out to be touched. Her breasts were vast, heavy hangers that seemed to invite the hands to grab and squeeze in a futile attempt to contain her bosomy bounty.

"Wh- who ... who am I?" the delicious, hodgepodge woman wondered aloud. Sliding from the invisible cocoon moments later was someone for whom that question was all the more pressing.

Sleek, nude and glistening with oils, the woman had the same incredible dancer's build and busty boobage. The black and red-striped butterfly wings unfolded to reveal...

The face of "Recall Rita" Potosi, now attached to the athletic-busty body of the Nympha alien!

"Y-you..." the blond Asian pointed at the winged woman. "Who ... I'm not me ... I'm you ... you ... You turned me into a Slut!" she exclaimed, wiggling her pelvis as though for emphasis.

"Better to think of yourself as a whore, my pet."

"Oohhh ... yes ... I ... I could make the bestest whore!" the Asian said, rubbing her nude, moist body against the tiled wall. "But ... who am I?" she asked.

"Why, you are Kiki! You are a total whore for men with hard cocks!" the winged woman with the familiar face said. Kiki babbled in bliss.

"Yeah! I'm Kiki! I'm so lucky to be a whore! If I'm a good whore, can you put me back in your yummy cocoon?"

"Soon, little one. There is something you must do for me first!" The body-snatching alien said with a patronizing smile.

"I hope it involves sex with men! Lotsa men!" Kiki suggested happily.

"You ARE a smart one," The Potosi alien said. "And you'll have no trouble out there. It will be fine; as soon as you fuck twenty men, then I'll find you! And the pleasure of the Chrysalis will be yours again!"

Kiki clapped her hands and leaped for joy! But then frowned slightly. "I hope that's not all? Will there be more men after my first twenty?"

"Ohhh yes, sweet Kiki! I designed your new body for a man's pleasure! I took away everything from your mind and body that might get in the way of your new life of continuous sex!" The alien put a comforting hand on the other woman's shoulder as Kiki smiled in vapid thanks.

"Everywhere, you will find men with desires they think can never be realized." The Potosi alien swept her arm over an imaginary vista of mankind. "Men are trapped with loveless, frigid wives, bouncing between girlfriends who never give them what they want. That is where you come in. You Kiki, will offer up your body for any man. Your mouth, ass, and pussy must be available for any man to relieve his natural lusts. You are the very soul of desire."

Kiki made a gurgling sound, scrunched up her face and began to furiously frig her own cunt. "So many cocks ... in me ... all men ... all cocks ... I want you ... to release! Cum in meeeeeee!!!" Kiki howled, as girlcum trickled down her slim legs. "I'll fuck them! I'll fuck them all!" Nipples hard as diamonds, panting with arousal, pussy dripping, Kiki moved for the door.

A hand on her arm stopped her.

"Don't forget my pet, you must still wear some clothing." At Kiki's crestfallen expression, the alien opened the pink duffel bag and revealed fishnet stockings, white lingerie panty-bottoms, a hot-pink string bikini top, and transparent plastic platform shoes. Kiki nodded.

"Now EVERYONE will know that I'm a whore!" and she happily dressed herself, on a mission to prostitute her every hole for twenty men, twenty cocks, twenty doses of sperm.

"And no Earthly science will have any hope of determining who you used to be..." the alien said after her pet had left.

The she-demon that had stolen the face, mind, and soul of Rita Potosi continued studying herself in the mirror. She experimented with several colors of professional-looking dress-suits formed out of her shapeshifting wings. With clothes on, the likeness was perfect, no one could visibly tell she was NOT who she appeared to be. Her face was ... slightly younger-looking. But the Congresswoman's colleagues would simply believe she'd found another, better plastic surgeon.

Her clothes melted away to reveal the original busty fitness-model body, and the contrast was stark; Rita Potosi was over fifty; but this was the porn-friendly body of a breast-enhanced fitness-model stripper half that age. "The humans will never know the truth. Every man who has seen this body has fucked this body; and any women who sees it will be cocooned, for a metamorphosis into another Kiki." Of course, she now owned every man who had fucked her.

The demon rooted around in the remains of the disintegrating cocoon to find Rita's smartphone. She thumbed through the contacts lists, and came to the name of a male aide.

"Hmm ... James ... an excellent Aide, and a stud. The human, Rita Potosi secretly lusted after this young man in her employ; and so now I lust for him too! But I can have him! He will be replaced in the office with a functionary of my own kind ... and I shall feast on his virility until I leave this planet to my young!" The alien grunted, as her breasts crept slightly larger, close to H-cup range, spurts of milk escaped from her turgid nipples.