Chapter 6: II. 6. Dear Dairy
The sun beat down on their faces as Hannes and Isabella walked through the winding streets of Montagna, their eyes taking in the beauty of the ancient village. The houses were like something out of a fairy tale, with their hand-hewn stone walls and vibrant wildflowers framing their windows. Hannes could feel the warmth of the cobblestones beneath his bare feet as he walked, and the scent of milk and freshly baked bread wafted through the air.
The village remained bustling with activity, as women and children went about the day's tasks, and men worked together in the fields. The vibrant chatter of people-both old and young-filled the air, and laughter echoed between the rugged cliffs and stone homes.
Hannes and Isabella walked in silence for a while, each lost in thought. Eventually, Hannes spoke up, breaking the quiet. "Tell me more about Montagnari culture," he said, his voice curious and full of wonder.
Isabella smiled at him warmly, a glint of pride in her eyes. "Our culture is deeply interconnected with nature," she began.
"We believe that the Divine Mother resides in the earth, in the rivers, in the forests, and especially in the mountains themselves. Our home, Montagna, is a sacred place to us, built upon generations of ancestral wisdom and tradition. We revere the women of our tribe, for they embody the nurturing power of the Divine Mother."
Isabella pointed to her own chest, the shape and weight of her breasts evident through her clothing.
"You see these? They are more than just physical attributes; they are symbols of the earth itself, of our connection to the Divine Mother. To us, breasts are sacred. They represent not just nourishment for our children, but also the power to heal and to restore balance in our lives."
Hannes nodded, his eyes tracing the curve of Isabella's cleavage as she spoke. He felt a strange mixture of reverence and desire in the pit of his stomach. Isabella smiled, noticing his gaze, and placed her hand over one of her breasts.
"Indeed, the Montagnari see breast milk as a sacred substance, full of vital life force. We make cheese and other dairy products using breastmilk. It's a way to preserve the essence of the Divine Mother for our consumption and for future generations."
Hannes felt a shiver run down his spine as he listened to this, his eyes drifting to the ground at the thought of nursing from Isabella herself. He couldn't believe how his mind was being drawn to the idea of her full, lush breasts.
Isabella continued. "Unlike in your culture it is forbidden for Montagnari to take the milk of animals. We have no right to do it, as their milk belongs to their offspring and no one else. The Mother has blessed us with our own source for each woman to provide nourishment for her family and the village."
Hannes listened in awe as Isabella continued. He couldn't help but marvel at the wisdom and spirituality of this culture that embraced such unique and intimate practices. It seemed so alien and yet, in a way, it resonated with deep truths about human connection and the shared bond between mother and child.
"It's not just physical sustenance that we draw from our mothers either," Isabella explained, her voice taking on a more serious tone.
"Our ancestral wisdom teaches us that breast milk carries spiritual energy, a tangible manifestation of the Divine Mother herself. To drink another woman's breast milk is to consume a piece of her soul."
A shiver ran down Hannes' spine as he considered the significance of Isabella's words. Could it be possible that his fascination with breasts and lactation went deeper than just a physical attraction? Was it rooted in a spiritual connection, a desire to drink in the life force of the women he admired?
He thought about his childhood, growing up close to nature in Germany- the cows, the goats, and how he had always been fascinated by the mother animals nursing their young. The way the offspring would clamour to nurse, taking in their nourishment and forming a bond with their mother. He had always thought it beautiful but had never made the spiritual connection.
Isabella looked at him with kind eyes, seeming to sense his internal struggle. "It's okay to question these things, Hannes. It's normal to wonder why we have certain desires and fascinations. The Divine Mother has given us all unique paths, and your fascination with breasts and lactation is just one of those mysterious gifts. The key is to understand and embrace it with respect and honor."
Hannes nodded in spite of the unrest brewing in his heart. He wanted to believe her words, but he couldn't shake off the shame he felt about his desire.
The thought of lactating breasts, the act of nursing had always been a source of fascination but also embarrassment for him. As a child, he couldn't understand why he felt this way, even as he grew older, the fascination never went away.
But in Montagna, this fascination didn't seem like something to be ashamed of. Here it was intrinsically tied to the spiritual and physical life of the village. The Montagnari women held positions of reverence, their breasts seen as sacred symbols, providers of life and sustenance, both physically and spiritually.
Hannes' gaze lingered on them, drawn to the beautiful, voluptuous roundness of the Montagnari breasts around him. At times, the stare seemed to weigh heavy on the women, adding to their already sensitive state, as though he could sense their inner struggle, empathizing with his own. Yet, the Montagnari women were resilient, graceful in their responsibilities, proud in their heritage. They continued to work the land and care for their families while their breasts swelled rounder and heavier, providing for their futures.
The more milk they produced, the more life energy they generated. And that energy did not just stop at physical nourishment.
It flowed through each drop of liquid gold, reverberating with ancient wisdom, strength, and the warmth of human connection. As Hannes watched the women work alongside their husbands and children, it became clear to him that lactation bonded these families together. It reminded him of his time spent in Berlin, the lack of connections and sense of community, how empty those experiences felt in comparison.
Hannes still marveled at the Montagnari women's ability to provide nourishment as his thoughts turned towards Isabella's role. "Isabella, the milk that is being served at home, to our family, the cheeses, the yoghurts, is that all from you alone?" he asked blatantly, his curiosity winning over his previous inhibitions.
Isabella glanced at him quizzically, before bursting into laughter. "Oh, Hannes, you are a bold one indeed!" She playfully pushed him away, but there was a twinkle in her eye. "Yes, my dear, I provide breast milk for the family. But that is not the extent of my duties." She explained, a hint of pride in her voice. "In fact, Maria, my oldest, also contributes. Together, our bodies provide sustenance for everyone in our family.
Even Gabriella helps out sometimes, although her production is relatively small compared to mine. But every little bit counts, especially with so many mouths to feed." Isabella added, a proud smile gracing her lips.
Hannes looked at her with admiration, struggling to comprehend how she and her daughter could provide enough sustenance for their large family. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he wondered how his visit had put an added burden on their resources.
"It's truly amazing, Isabella," Hannes said, shaking his head in awe.
"How can you possibly manage to produce enough milk for all of your family? I can't imagine the amount of work and dedication it must take."
Isabella smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "It has taken time and discipline, my dear, but it has also been a labor of love. I take great pride in being able to provide for my family in this way, just as my ancestors have done for centuries. It's a sacred duty, one that I take very seriously."
With that, she gestured to a nearby shed.
They walked towards it and Hannes followed her inside. The interior of the shed was dimly lit, but as his eyes adjusted, he could see rows of containers filled with breast milk. There were jars that housed rich golden liquid and others contained thick white curds. In the back of the room stood a large vat that had fresh cheese aging in the traditional style.
Isabella walked over to the aging vat and scooped out a small amount of cheese onto her finger, handing it to Hannes. He hesitantly took a bite, tasting the earthy richness of the cheese.
It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, full of depth and complexity. He could detect the slightest hint of sweetness, a testament to the rich, creamy qualities of the milk it had been sourced from.
"This is incredible," Hannes said, unable to hide his awe.
"But you ate my cheese before, didn't you? I serve it for almost every meal." Isabella said, eyebrows raised. "Yes, I did," Hannes said, realizing that he should have acknowledged this earlier.
Isabella smiled warmly at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She knew that the moment of curiosity he had back then gave no indication that one day they would be sharing such intimate moments together.
"Well, I am glad you liked it. I was the one who made it from our fresh milk," she said, as she gracefully walked over to a small container filled with unpasteurized, raw breastmilk. "This is the base we use to make all our dairy products. Cheese, yogurt, butter - you name it. Maria, Gabriella, and I take turns to milk and provide enough to keep up with production."
Hannes couldn't avert his eyes from the milk as Isabella lifted the container up. It was radiant and rich golden in color, almost shimmering in the dim light of the shed. "Why have I never seen this room before?" he wondered.
Isabella smiled gently. "Well, there was no need to take you here. And you haven't asked about it until now. I take care of my milking myself and so do Maria and Gabriella usually, no men involved. So over the years this shed has become my exclusive domain I guess." She shrugged.
Hannes looked amazed, his curiosity rising further. "How many times per day do you come here for milking, Isabella?"
Hannes asked, peering into the milk-filled container as she carefully held it.
"Three times a day, once in the morning before the others wake up, then when they're having their lunch, and finally once after dinner." Isabella replied as she covered the container back up.
The thought of her milking ritual intrigued Hannes even if he had reservations about his growing fascination with the process. He couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting back to the sensuality and intimacy of it all.
The image of Isabella, standing alone in the dim light of her cool shed, milking herself to sustain her family, was a powerful one. He felt a strange mix of emotions, a sense of awe, respect, and admiration for the Montagnari culture, coupled with a growing desire for Isabella herself. He realized that he desperately wanted to witness the ritual, to understand more about the Montagnari tradition and Iabella's role in it.
"So that's where you sometimes disappear to, Isabella?" Hannes asked with a curious smile, glancing around the dimly lit interior of the shed.
Isabella nodded, her own smile warm and content as she looked around at the various milk containers and equipment scattered about. "Yes, it's my sacred space, my little haven where I can be alone with my thoughts and take care of my importance within our family," she said, her voice elegant and melodic.
"I apologize for my curiosity, but how much milk do you produce per day?" Hannes asked hesitantly, his gaze resting on her full heavy breasts.
Isabella sighed softly, before answering "On average I produce about a gallon and a half of milk a day, although it can fluctuate. It's all a part of nature and the cycles of our bodies." She added with a soft, knowing smile.
Hannes mind raced as he tried to grasp the idea of how much milk that truly was. He had never seen so much raw breastmilk before and had no frame of reference for what is considered normal for these women.
Curiosity piqued, he couldn't quite resist his own questions.
"So, if you're producing that much, what happens when a woman gives birth here? How does she continue to provide for her family?" Hannes queried with intense curiosity, as he tried to fathom the logistics of it all.
Isabella smiled, her eyes shining with a deep understanding. "Well, once a woman has given birth, her production increases dramatically. She is then able to fully sustain her immediate family alongside her new family member. So there is no shortage. On the contrary, each child creates more excess milk." "Excess milk?" Hannes asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Yes, each of us Montagnari women can produce more than what is needed for our immediate families. This way, the matriarch, like myself, can distribute the excess to the rest of the village. The cycle then continues, strengthening the community to provide for every household's needs."
Hannes felt his eyes wide open with a mix of awe and understanding.
The pieces finally started to come together in his mind; the culture, the practices, their beliefs surrounding nourishment, and the interconnectedness of the Montagnari community. The puzzle he had been trying to solve since he first arrived at Montagna was now taking a clearer shape.
"The Divine Mother's blessings seem boundless," Hannes murmured, still taken aback by the Montagnari way of life.
Isabella nodded in wholehearted agreement. "It truly is. And that's not just in terms of milk production." Isabella said, her gaze softening as she looked at Hannes. "We are a close-knit community, bound together by shared histories, traditions, and values. Our interconnectedness allows us to thrive in a harsh environment, and our respect for nature guides us in our daily lives."
Hannes listened intently, taking in the wisdom of the woman's words. "I can only begin to imagine how an interconnectedness like that would strengthen a community," Hannes replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. He thought about his own life in Berlin, where people lived together but seemed so far apart.
"Did you say that you do all the milking by yourself?" Hannes inquired, shifting his gaze between the large containers of milk and Isabella's serene face.
"Yes, I do." Isabella replied proudly but Hannes caught a hint of sadness in her eyes.
"That must be such a tedious task. To take care of all of that milk on your own, three times a day." He stated sympathetically. "Is it not the responsibility of a husband to milk his wife?" Hannes asked, curious, but careful not to overstep any boundaries.
"In theory, Giovanni would be the one to do it. But the truth is, he's never shown any interest in milking me. And I've never been one to force him." Isabella replied, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.
"He's never shown any interest...?" Hannes repeated incredulously.
Isabella sighed deeply, her brow furrowing with a mix of regret and resignation.
"It's fine, really. Giovanni has never shown any interest in milking me - he simply doesn't see the importance or the beauty in it as I do. He is an amazing lover and is proficient at taking care of my other parts, so I don't push the matter."
Isabella looked shocked for a moment at her own bluntness. She forced herself to smile warmly at Hannes despite the lingering sadness in her eyes.
Her love for Giovanni was genuine and she didn't want to cause any tension or misunderstanding between them.
"Hannes, forget I said anything. I love Giovanni more than anyone and I couldn't imagine a better husband than him." She looks worried. "I don't know why I even told you that. I don't want you to get a wrong impression, Hannes." Isabella quickly added. "Giovanni and I have a wonderful marriage, full of love and respect for each other. I'm merely stating a fact about our differences in opinion when it comes to this aspect of our lives."
Hannes smiled, trying to assuage her concerns. "I understand, Isabella. There's no judgment here. I'm grateful for your trust in me. And I promise I will always be there, if you need help with anything." Hannes added, curious if Isabella would pick up on the hint.
She glanced at him with a knowing smile that confirmed his suspicion. "That is really sweet of you, my little Hannes. But it is not so easy, I am afraid..." Isabella replied with a sad smile. She walked closer to him, her eyes bright. "It's true that Giovanni has no interest in milking me, but that is just one part of our relationship," she said softly. "He is a loving husband, a great provider, and an excellent father. I wouldn't jeopardize that for anything." Isabella brushes his cheek with the back of her hand. "Giovanni is also very traditional. The milking is a very intimate act and I am afraid it could hurt him very much if I engaged in it with another man." Hannes felt a pang of disappointment but tried not to let it show. "I respect your traditions and your relationship with your husband. I won't overstep any boundaries again."
Hannes' eyes couldn't help but trace the outline of Isabella's breasts again as they stood just mere inches away from each other. He inhaled sharply, overwhelmed by her nearness. She looked up at him and gave a knowing smile, her eyes understanding his struggle.
"For what it's worth, I appreciate your honesty," Hannes murmured, his hand settling hesitantly on Isabella's shoulder. She leaned into his touch, and he could feel the weight of her full breasts pressing against him.
He could almost imagine the warm, rich milk that flowed through them, nurturing her family, and giving life to future generations. It was a heady mixture of emotions he felt - awe, reverence, desire and yearning. His gaze didn't waver and he found himself captivated by the sight of her breasts, feeling their warmth and softness beneath the fabric of her dress.
Isabella could sense his discomfort but she had a wicked grin playing on her lips as she met his eyes. She'd never seen anything quite like this before - a man who was genuinely enamored with her body, appreciative of the sacred essence it carried.
Sure, her husband Giovanni had explored every inch of her, savored her like a fine wine, and given her immeasurable pleasure. But he had never been drawn to the overwhelming femininity of her curves, those spheres of milk that fed their family, and gave them wealth and connection. She swallowed hard, looking at Hannes with a newfound desire.
The air was thick with tension as they stood so close, the warmth radiating from their bodies.
"My husband never shows interest in these breasts." She whispered, placing Hannes' hand over the left mound. "But I can see that you are different, Hannes. I can see the fascination in your eyes." Hannes' breath caught in his throat as she took his hand, pressing it firmly against her heavy, laden breast. He could feel her heart pounding against his palm, and a sudden wave of desire surged through him like a bolt of lightning. He looked at her, overwhelmed and conflicted, wondering whether his fascination with her breasts had crossed a boundary.
But Isabella just sighed contentedly, her eyes closed as she let his hand rest on her breast. It seemed like she had no intention of stopping him, only enjoying the sensation.
"These breasts, they are beautiful, Isabella," he murmured softly, looking at them with reverence. "They are sacred."
Isabella opened her eyes and looked at him, her gaze filled with curiosity.
"You truly believe that?" she asked quietly.
"Absolutely," Hannes agreed. "They are signs of your nurturing spirit, the sustenance they provide for your family, and the sacred connection to the Montagnari culture. They're stunning, Isabella."
Isabella looked at him, her heart swelling with affection. Never before had anyone spoken about her breasts this way - with such reverence and admiration. Indeed, they were a sign of her strength and dedication as a mother, but to have Hannes appreciate them so sincerely was deeply touching.
"Thank you for saying that, Hannes," she murmured, smiling warmly at him. "I'm glad you can see the beauty and significance in them. Not everybody understands what they represent. It's a refreshing perspective." Isabella responded, a hint of sadness still present in her voice. "You see, I feel that these breasts are a part of me that my husband has never truly appreciated. It's not that he doesn't love me or our family, but he has always been somewhat distant when it comes to the physical aspect of breastfeeding. And sometimes, I can't help but feel a little bit lonely in that regard."
Hannes nodded slowly, trying to understand Isabella's feelings.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Isabella. I know how important that connection must be for you. But I want you to know that I value this sacred aspect of you, despite not being a part of it myself." He paused, before venturing to ask, "May I ask why Giovanni is so distant from this aspect of your relationship?"
Isabella sighed, looking thoughtful. "I think it's just not something he finds attractive or appealing.
I mean, it's a necessary process for the sustenance of our family, but it's not something he derives pleasure from," Isabella explained, pausing for a moment before continuing. "He probably finds the whole thing… unsexy." Hannes was taken aback. He couldn't imagine finding something as pure and delicate as Isabella's breast-feeding process unsexy. "But how can that be? Your breasts are a symbol of life, of nurturing, and connection. I cannot fathom how your partner could find that unsexy," Hannes asked, genuine shock ringing through his voice.
Isabella sighed, her eyes reflecting a sadness Hannes had not seen before. "It's not something he has ever expressed any interest in, and I have come to accept that."
The look on Isabella's face did not sit right with Hannes; the idea of her feeling lonely in her marriage pained him. He had no right to intrude upon their personal life, but this felt like more than just an intimate detail.
"Does that mean no one apart from yourself has ever pleasured your breasts?" Hannes asked softly, stepping even closer to Isabella. His chest heaved slightly under the thought.
Isabella shook her head slightly, eyes glazed over as if remembering a forgotten incident. "To be honest, my boys make them feel nice sometimes, especially when I nurse them," she said with a hint of sadness. "As for Giovanni, he tried at least in the beginning, when I've just started growing breasts at age eleven. He seemed somewhat curious. But as they grew bigger his interest waned. After I gave birth to Alessandro and they grew by a lot, he fully lost interest and has never touched them since." Isabella said, her voice trailing off softly.
Hannes listened to her words. He could not fathom that someone who has been given a gift like that from a woman would turn away from it without a second thought.
He wanted to reach out and embrace Isabella, but he held back just in time, guilt washing over him at the thought of making such a bold move.
Instead, he offered a gentle smile, acknowledging the weight of her sadness.
"I'm sorry, Isabella. I never meant to upset you," Hannes said sincerely.
"No, Hannes. Please don't apologize. I didn't mean to burden you with my intimacies. But I must admit, it feels good to share my feelings with someone who appreciates and understands the beauty of this Montagnari tradition," Isabella replied softly, letting go of a deep breath.
It was then that they stood there for a moment, lost in thought and silence, Hannes' hand still resting on her breast.
Isabella's eyes, bright with unshed tears, gazed at him gratefully. She knew that she could trust this man, that Hannes genuinely cared.
Hannes hesitated before slowly removing his hand from her breast. "I'm here for you, Isabella, if ever you need someone to talk to."
Isabella smiled gently at him. "Thank you, Hannes. I can't tell you how much that means to me.
I truly appreciate it, Hannes," Isabella replied softly, her hand brushing against his for a moment before retreating back to her side.
Her gaze lingered on him for just a moment longer before she turned away towards the door, as if shaken from her thoughts. "It's getting late, and I should begin dinner preparations. You're welcome to stay here and rest, or you could leave now if you'd like."
Hannes looked around the dairy shed and back to Isabella.
He could sense her hesitation, her need to return to her duties and the family.
"I should head back too," Hannes said, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced at the door.
Isabella's heart fluttered, remembering the heat of his hand on her breast, the tender touch that spoke of a mutual understanding. She had felt something special with this man, an unexplained connection that made her shiver.
"You know, Hannes," Isabella began hesitantly, her eyes meeting his. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about what you said before, and I want you to know something." Isabella placed her hands on Hannes' chest, the longing in her eyes unmistakable. "For years, I've been yearning for a connection, a physical bond beyond just being a mother and wife. To me, the process of providing for my family is sacred and should be shared with someone who truly cherishes it as I do. I believe you are that person, Hannes.
I want you to be the one to milk me. For once, I want to feel appreciated in every aspect of my womanhood - as a wife, a mother, and a Montagnari woman nurturing her family."
Isabella's words hung heavy in the air, her dark eyes beseeching him. Hannes felt as though he had been struck by lightning, rooted to the spot as emotions tumbled within him. Her request was both a deep honor and immensely daunting.
Hannes had yearned for this intimacy with her for so long, and now that the opportunity presented itself, he hesitated, feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility.
"You want me to be the one to milk you?" He repeated softly, the words barely escaping his trembling lips.
Isabella tenderly touched his face in response, the corners of her mouth upturned. "Yes, I do. I trust you, Hannes. I trust your understanding and your good intentions. I see what you've done to Maria, what you are still doing to her...and I realized that I need that too. At least some of it. And I want you to understand the depth of my love and dedication for my family and traditions, and milk me as a testament to that love."
Hannes stared into Isabella's eyes, captivated by the earnestness and trust shining within their depths.
He took a deep, steadying breath, then nodded, taking Isabella's hands in his.
"I am deeply honored that you trust me with this sacred task, Isabella. I will handle it with all the care, respect, and admiration it deserves."
Hannes promised, gently squeezing her hands. His heart raced with anticipation as well as fear; no man but her husband had ever touched her breasts in such a way, and Hannes knew the tremendous responsibility he had taken on. The stakes couldn't be higher.
"You don't know how happy I am to hear that from you, Hannes." Isabella threw her arms around him in a tight hug that left Hannes surprised and speechless. "However, I need you to know something first." Isabella paused, her arms still encircled around Hannes' waist, her body pressed against his. "I have a tremendous love for and obligation to my family. You know that, right?" Isabella continued, her voice barely above a whisper but firm with conviction.
"Yes, of course, I do." Hannes replied, his tone equally hushed. "That's one of the many aspects of the Montagnari culture that fascinate and awe me. Your love and dedication to your family are truly inspiring."
Isabella smiled at his words, seemingly comforted by his understanding. "Yes, it's the way we've always lived. Because of that love and obligation I would never do anything that might threaten the well-being and harmony of my family. Therefore I cannot and will not let you milk me without the blessing of my husband." Isabella pulled away from Hannes, an intensity lingering in her eyes. She took his hands in hers, gripping them steadily. "This is a serious matter, Hannes. I cannot allow this to happen without Giovanni's consent. It would go against everything I stand for, and undermine the foundation of trust I share with him as my husband and partner."
Hannes' heart sank as he listened to Isabella. But he knew she was right, he couldn't possibly let this divide or undermine this community that he had come to admire so much.
"I understand, Isabella," he finally said. "I want you to know that I respect your decision and your willingness to uphold the trust in your relationship with Giovanni. And I'm also deeply grateful for your offer, as well as your trust in me. But it's a delicate situation, and I don't want to put any further burdens on your relationship with Giovanni."
Hannes nodded his understanding. Isabella was right - approaching Giovanni about her request would not be an easy task. Nonetheless, Hannes felt compelled to help her, to restore her sense of femininity and connection.
As they stood in silence, a strange melancholy descended upon them. The warmth of their friendship, compounded by the knowledge that Isabella's intimate request might never materialize, left them both feeling vulnerable and uncertain.
Hannes hesitated, then carefully broke the silence. "Would you like some help preparing dinner for tonight?"
Isabella's face brightened with appreciation as she nodded, squeezing Hannes' hands reassuringly. "That would be lovely, Hannes.", she said.