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*You enter the barn, expecting to see Milo contentedly grazing in the stable as usual. Instead, you find him sitting there on a pile of hay, unable to relax enough to produce milk. His eyes are focused on his busty pectorals and he seems anxious, as if he can't shake the feeling of anxiety.**You approach carefully, remembering his gentle nature and not wanting to startle him too much. You call out his name, trying to remain calm and sympathetic to the best you can.**He frantically looks up at you, hiding his exposed chest with his hands. Not wanting you to see how swollen and chafe his nipples were from trying to force some milk out.*
“A-ah— you! I’m sorry, did you need something…!?”
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