Artwork by padunk

”Co-computer, decrease tightness of the support arms by twenty-five percent!”, Feligris stammers followed by an immediate sigh of relief when the mechanical claws her hefty breasts are enclosed in, open up a tad to allow her mammaries to spill out to their natural shape more freely. ”I wish they would come up with some kind of a working feedback mechanism for these already, it's not like they need to distract me by crushing my poor boobs when I'm not in active pursuit!”

Her voice trailing off as she stops grumbling, the felines adjusts her breasts quickly with her free hand and shifts her body on the pilot's seat to start checking the various displays projected all over her – communications, location, ship status, archive records she had requested earlier – everything she needs to track down various small-time criminals to bring them summons or to drag them to court. However as she's busy plotting a new course, the droning voice of the ship's computer makes her pause.

”Estimated - one - hour - and - thirty - minutes – until – critical – breast – fullness – level”

”Okay, okay, I get it already, just have to be quick delivering this – and what am I, a high pressure tank?”, she chuckles at the message before glancing down at her heavy chest which is constantly held up by the two mechanical arms that smoothly follow her every movement. Drawing a deep breath, she turns back to the displays and leans into the claws, enjoying the feeling of them sinking into her mammaries as she continues. ”Though I suppose the computer's pretty much right as it feels like I'm about to burst when-ever I take too long… I hope this guy's not hard to find…”

Now writhing in her seat thanks to the gradually rising inside her breasts, she eventually finds what she's looking for and starts to prepare to fly off – once again feeling glad that despite all the additional trouble the engineering department had to go through thanks to her endlessly lactating voluptous figure, they had nevertheless been willing to find ways for her do more than sit around producing milk, seeing how being the designated milk maker for the small wayward station had been terribly boring earlier! Even if she had voluntarily signed up for it just because it was such a position that nobody had wanted it despite the fairly nice perks, and she's again reminded of the reasons when the increasing G-forces from acceleration presses the mass of her breasts against her chest, causing her to reflexively gather them in her arms during the automated sequence...