You could hear her approaching well before ever being able to see her; the soft cling-clang of the brass bell watching over the valley of her cleavage audible long in advance of her turning the corner. Some stared, some snuck less-than-stealthy glances, but most really didn’t her pay any mind; the display that the the big red naga was providing was nothing out of the ordinary to anyone who had spent any real amount of time at that part of the facility. Not that Olivia wasn’t a newcomer herself, having only recently signed on as a “production associate” to get access to the facility’s new high tier... well, facilities.

The sizable snake tugged at the strap wrapped tightly around one of her colossal udders as she rounded the corner. She could swear she was ending up bigger after each session rather than smaller, and lamented having to wear the seemingly always just-a-little-too-small company-mandated uniform whenever she was on the property. It wasn’t the fact that there was barely enough fabric to cover even her nipples that bothered her so much; she was no stranger to showing off a little scale in the sun, nor the fact that the cartoony cow pattern printed on most of its surface proudly proclaimed to the world exactly what she was doing there; the massive snilkers she was lugging around all the time already did that job well enough on their own. No, she just wished they would give her a uniform that fit a little bit better already!

Anyone nearby would be forgiven for not knowing whether the sloshing they were hearing was coming from the nearly overflowing bucket she was holding in one hand, or the mountainous tit she was jostling around with the other. Not exactly being gentle in her adjustments (which was hard to do when you were slinging that much weight around), Olivia managed to stimulate herself just enough that, even if indirectly, she wound up causing herself to start leaking, with “Leaking” being something of an understatement. Where her outfit met her teats, the fabric quickly darkened and dampened, droplets of white beading up and dribbling downward from where the cloth had become saturated, with a couple of small streams even managing to break through and spatter all over and around her.

Olivia smirked to herself and finally managed to heave the strap back into a more comfortable position, the bell on her chest giving out a dull ring of its approval in the process. She had tried to empty herself enough to properly fit in the constricting thing before she went out, but had only really succeeded in exciting her production and filling up the bucket she was now hauling to the collection center. While not quite at the point of being able to watch her breasts fill up in real time, judging by how much she now seemed to be producing, and how quickly, she couldn't be too far off from being able to accomplish such a feat.

Her previous hopes of not having to spend too much time in the collection center's “product procurement” stalls faded quickly as the staccato dripping of her own “product” reminded her of just how bounteous she still was, even after overflowing the bucket back home. Still, there were worse places to be stuck for indeterminate amounts of time. The process was... enjoyable... to put it mildly. So Olivia flicked her tongue in a barely disguised display of excitement and slipped her thumb back underneath the strap of her top, hefting her precious cargo and fully intent on finishing her morning mission to go and get herself thoroughly milked - all the while savoring the stunned, envious, and indecent expressions painted on the faces of all the other new and soon to be “associates” of hers along the way.