I got writers block on a few projects, but this one just came as fast as I could type. I hope people enjoy, I love feedback!

Do I have a destiny?


Kimmy got home from school “Finally, I thought we would NEVER get that bus running!” she griped. The school bus had broken down on the other side of town, and as a result the sun was nearly set. Kimmy dropped her backpack and pulled her sundress off before unclipping her little training bra and letting it fall to the ground “That’s better” she sighed happily. As an active student, Kimmy had minimal rights, and was required to wear clothes during school hours, but was safe from snuffing except for actual infractions. She had to wear clothes at school, but she HATED them and stripped every day as soon as she got home.


Kimmy was a good student, she got the honor roll every semester, she turned in all of her work, the teachers liked her. And Kimmy didn’t hate school, but it wasn’t where her interests were. She liked spending time with her classmates, reading in the library, she really did find learning engaging. But Kimmy wanted to be a Milker. Human milk was delicious and expensive, and the females who completed the rigorous tests and got to undergo the procedures and get certified were celebrities, at least until they ran dry. Kimmy had a picture of her favorite Milker in her room. Lactatia was everything Kimmy wanted to be, tall, beautiful, with a set of MAGNIFICENT tits that seemed to always leak in every picture. She was the star of countless commercials, the object of lust in a number of movies. She was confident, wealthy, awesome, and Kimmy REALLY wanted to be like her!


Kimmy….was not ready to be a Milker yet. She looked at her own body in the mirror and sighed. She was small, skinny, with her breasts JUST starting to bud. She was only 13, but she still worried. To even apply to be a Milker, you had to have natural C-cups, they wouldn’t give you the test, much less the supplements to transform her chest into the ludicrous display of flesh Lactacia and other Milkers sported unless that happened, Kimmy couldn’t even TRY if her body didn’t start filling out a lot more.


Kimmy went to the backyard, dropped her panties and stretched out on the grass, thinking about the difficulties between her and her dream was depressing, masturbating always cheered her up, her parents were at a dinner party and would be out late. She closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasant sensations coming from her loins, savoring the feel of the grass, the smells and sounds of the yard at night, the footsteps coming up…..footsteps?



Before the little girl could react, a baseball bat clocked her over the head. She saw stars, felt a searing pain in her skull, it felt like it had been cracked. The bat came down again, this time on her belly. Her whole body convulsed, she couldn’t curl up, couldn’t escape, could only scream. And scream she did, wailing and struggling until a firm stomp to the face stunned her. Her assailant walked around to stare at her and she recognized her neighbor Mr. Emerson, holding the bat and a knife. He had always been good to her, always had treats when he came over, let her swim in his pool, Kimmy with her now swelling brain could not process why this was happening.


Mr. Emerson knelt down, pinned the girl with one hand as she sobbed and struggled as best she could, hot tears and blood on her angelic little face, and drew his knife across her belly. Kimmy hadn’t thought that even a knife would hurt worse than the bat, but she had been very wrong. The cliché was that it felf like fire. Kimmy had felt fire, she had collected burns before. That would have been a mercy. Her belly split before the knife and as he grasped and pulled it open and Kimmy coughed blood, she forgot her own name. Her mind broke, she was going into shock. The only thought she could cling to was “Now I can never be like Lacticia” although in her state, with a swelling brain, shock, and pain that all she wanted to do was curl up and die, she couldn’t remember who that was. She saw her killer, not the kindly neighbor, just her killer, reaching around inside her body, producing the most horrifying sounds. Kimmy felt something give, he pulled his hand out. And just before Kimmy slipped into a death where the pain mercifully stopped, Mr. Emerson showed Kimmy her own heart, still beating, moments from realizing she was dead.



Frank Emerson stood, wiping his hands on the grass before he pulled his phone and called Kimmy’s father “Hey Greg, so you know today is the first day of hunting season, right? Well Kimmy was out of the house, all naked, and I thought about calling you first, but you know if she had gone back inside, my permit would have been no good, I hope you don’t mind, but….oh, you planned dinner without her because you hoped that would happen? Yeah, that new knife I showed you, worked real nice. Of course you and Janet can come over when I cook her! Perfect, alright buddy, well I just wanted to let you know. Alright, I’ll clean up here, you two enjoy dinner, see you Saturday”. He hung up and got to work, Greg really was a good buddy…although Frank had a feeling his own daughter might not survive hunting season now. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time. After he had finished up out here, he wanted to celebrate the kill with a piece of pie….and a nice glass of girl milk.