Donna Gets Emergency Medical Treatment
"Oh, yes, it's very clear," Doctor Billings murmured sympathetically, giving Donna a comforting pat that probably would have been a lot less awkward if it hadn't landed directly on her tits. "This is a case of lactic fluid buildup, probably caused by insufficient expression of the mammary glands--it's infiltrated the cerebrospinovascular fluids, causing the intellectual inefficiencies you described a few moments ago, and I think all we need to do is get you hooked up to the pumps and you'll be right as rain." Donna wished she understood all the big words in that speech, and for that matter she wished her pussy wasn't getting wet from her failure to understand them, but she at least picked up 'right as rain' and she gratefully let her physician lead her over to the big industrial breast pump in the corner.
"Naturally, this is a not infrequent condition among patients with mammaries as pulchritudinous as yours," the doctor burbled cheerfully, pressing each suction cup into place against Donna's long, stiff nipples as she spoke and letting the pumps vacuum-seal themselves into a tight embrace that felt embarrassingly good. "In certain advanced cases, in fact, the cerebrospinovascular channels become inextricably intertwined with the lactic system and your brain just leaks out of your tits whenever your milked, but I'm sure it hasn't gotten that bad yet." She gave Donna a little wink. "Aren't you?" Then she turned the machine on, and Donna's eyelids fluttered as she physically felt her thoughts draining away.
She tried to say something, but almost immediately speech became difficult--and it wasn't just the intense and powerful pleasure of having her nipples rhythmically and industrially suckled by the big pumps until her pale, heavy breasts jiggled and quaked with the force of it. No, she could actually feel her thoughts growing slower and more sluggish as the milk began to flow, adding 'um' after 'um' to her small and simple vocabulary until she could barely alert her doctor to her plight. "Um, uh, um, it's--it's, um, it's, I… ummmm…." she stammered out, her head lolling forward as she clung to the bar overhead for support.
Thankfully, Doctor Billings seemed to recognize the problem almost immediately. "Oh dear," she said, her medical detachment apparently helping her sound entirely calm almost to the point of amusement with Donna's increasing intellectual difficulties. "It seems you have achieved that level of mammaro-cognitive inter-functionality, haven't you, honey? You've got tits for brains, to put it in layman's terms, and you can't think while you're being milked. Just like a big dumb cow, huh?" She chuckled, giving Donna a swat on the rump that felt entirely unprofessional, but the moment Donna began to ponder the other woman's undue familiarity with her body the notion was simply slurped out through her nipples and Donna smiled in vacant indolence.
She wanted to say something, just to show that she at least understood the key concepts, and so she babbled out the few words that managed to stick in her drowsy brain. "Tits for brains," she giggled, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. "Moo!" It felt good to show that she still had a few thoughts, despite her advanced medical condition, and she let herself relax into the pleasure of the constant mechanical suckling as her eyelids slipped shut. Doctor Billings was explaining to her something important, something about artificial cognitive support and the need to accept other people's words as her thoughts now that she no longer had any of her own, but it was all a warm blur of noise in Donna's ears by this point and she soon stopped trying to listen. Her deep self would remember… and it would always bring her back to her doctor to have her conditioning reinforced.
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