In the realm of magical studies, there are many devotions and subschools that one can pursue. Yet, the end goal for many magi is the same—to amass knowledge and power. To that purpose, plenty of up-and-coming casters seek out masters of various disciplines, seeking to learn the truths of the arcane through those who have reached said truths through their own paths. It is in this way, then, that these apprentices achieve their own enlightenment.
As generations pass and more wizards and sorceresses and the like find new avenues of magical study, much more specialized casters arise, each making their mark on history.
It is such a caster that Markus McCloud seeks, for the dragon, though not very well versed in the arts of magic, heard her name and knew that she would be one to learn from.
The place where she pursued her craft is beautiful, indeed. Her sanctum was carved out of the white mountain, formed into two large domes with pointed tips at the sky. When it rained, the streams of water run white down from the peaks, making the retreat glisten beautifully in the post-storm sun.
When the dragon arrives there, he finds her and stands mesmerized as the lizard, despite her lineage, holds her massive mounds, squeezing them out into a bowl that glows with ethereal might.
"I knew someone would be coming for me," coos Lactania, the milkmage. "Are you here to laugh at me like the others? To gawk at the defeated and humiliated combatant?"
"N… no, not at all!" the soft blue dragon says, holding his hands up in front of him. "I… I heard about your defeat, yes, but I heard about all of your victories in the magical arena before that. I'm a spellcaster myself, well, not a good one," he says this, dropping his explorer's pack, falling to his knees, and bending down in supplication. "But, I would be honored to have the honor of challenging you—to see your magic first-hand!"
The bow serves two purposes for the young dragon male. The first is to show his great respect for the older spell caster. The second is to help flush the sight of her enormous tits pouring delicious, delicious milk from her touch.
"I see," her voice becomes serious. "It's been a while since anyone wanted to seriously challenge me. I must warn you, though, defeating me will not grant you any clout in the battlemage community," she chuckles. "Defeating me will make you less than scum."
"I wish to face you to learn from you!" he says. "There's nothing else that matters, please."
She pauses for a moment before half-shrugging. "Very well… shall we begin?"
He looks up and sees that she holds her hand out to the milky pool. From it arises her staff, charged with her lactic magic.
Markus scrambles to his feet, gulping and holding up his own claws. "A-alright. Let's see… what can I learn from this…" He steels his nerves, readying himself and putting on a serious expression.
"Learn that you know nothing!" Lactania says, swirling her staff. The milk swarms up around her and launches in his direction.
"That's right… I don't know anything," Markus says to himself, his arms trembling. "All my life, I've never been able to learn any magic the traditional way. Study and practice… it never seemed to matter, not unless… not unless I was defending myself. I've always seen myself as nothing more than mediocre… an amateur at best."
As he speaks his truth, his eyes and his hands glow. The wall of milk crashes against an invisible barrier, a deluge hitting up against a forcefield that makes his arms bend. He falls upon his knee, gritting his teeth, feeling all of his mana fuel the defensive spell, but drains him of his vitality.
Such a simple attack she sent, but it has such power behind it. Is this the true power of her milk? It's so much better than any power he could generate, surely.
Lactania watches as her milk sloshes around the battlefield, huffing and shaking her head. "I warned you, young one," she sighs. "This defeat will condemn you to a life of ridicule in the magical arena. If only you…"
Her voice trails off, and she narrows her eyes, leaning into the roiling and bubbling kettle of milk forming in front of the mage's barrier. A moment later, she opens her mouth to scream, the bubbling brew erupts.
The blast is so powerful that it shoots out through the tips of the sanctum's domes, rolling down the mounds in twin milkfalls.
Inside, Lactania lays on her back, covered in the warmed dairy, blinking, staring, dumbstruck.
Markus coughs, wiping away the smoke of steamed and frothy milk away from him. He scrambles to his feet when he sees the woman sprawled out before him, and he scuttles over to her, falling down to his knees once more. "Agh, I'm so sorry, madam Lactania! Please, forgive me for this rudeness... If you wish, please, strike me with your finishing milk blow like you do all of your enemies. It is only fair that you give me your taste of defeat."
He takes a deep breath and lifts his head, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting to be splashed with the magical milk and marked as a failure. But, as he sits there, he hears something of a rumble, and then soft to hearty breaths, and then finally to a deep and happy guffaw.
“Ah...Ah hah... Ah ha ha ha ha ha hah!”
Opening one eye, he sees Lactania laying there, no longer splayed out in defeat but lounging on her back, sighing in delight.
"W… what?"
"Oh, that was simply marvelous! Tell me, dear; is it possible you've been underselling yourself all these years?" She coos, her eyes rolling down from the ceiling and to him, bright and sparkling. "You desire some of my milk, don't you, oh interesting and powerful mage? Well, how would you like to have as much as you want?"


Markus stares at the lounging milkmage, her glistening and round body happily laying among the spilled milk of their battle. The dragon gulps, his stomach grumbling in anticipation. "Y-your offer," he begins. "It's… it's too kind."
"I see it in your eyes," Lactania sighs, curling a finger with one hand, lifting up one of her massive tits in the other. She gives it a playful squeeze, letting some of her milk squirt out. "You should just accept your prize."
He climbs atop of her, scales upon scales as he slides up along her body, grabbing that tit in both hands and latching his snout around the beautiful and large nipple. He squeezes, the soft flesh between his palms yielding to the victor's grasp while his cheeks sink in from the sucking.
Warm, life-sustaining fluid gushes out of the tit. It's a flowing fountain of delight that tantalizes every taste bud on Markus's tongue. He closes his eyes, sighing as he suckles the sweet tit of victory. Him, a lowly apprentice mage, drinking from a powerful woman like Lactania…? He could hardly believe it.
And what's even harder to believe is that Lactania places her hand upon the back of his head. She chuckles warmly. 
"So, eager and so delightful," she coos, stroking along the dragon's crown. "I've never seen someone come to me with such earnest delight. Are you sure you have no ulterior motives for having my milk?"
He pulls his lips away, licking his lips, and tilting his head. "W… what do you mean?"
With a giggle, she lays on her side, saying. "Oh, it's just that any potential mage wanting to drink from me is seeking to take some power for himself."
"Power…?"
"Oh, yes," she says, sitting up, bringing him along with him. "But I suppose if you don't know about it, allow me to offer you this… become a milkmage, Markus. Let  your love of my milk lead you to the understanding of magical power."
"Ah, gee, that's nice and all," he says, "but, uh, I can't make milk."
She presses her hand to his head, moving him back to her chest. He takes the milk eagerly, suckling. "Oh, but you don't need to produce the milk yourself, my champion," she coos, her tail swishing behind him, coiling around his own. "You see, you can become a stomach-caster, using the milk that you've stored within your body after you've taken it from me. Be my apprentice, and I shall give you all the milk-mana you could ever desire. You'll be powerful. You'll be wonderful, and…" she chuckles, leaning in, whispering into his ear. "If you do, you'll never have to eat solid food ever, ever again~."
Markus stops the drink, pulling his mouth back. It snaps her breast back into place. He rubs his chin with his arm, licking his appendage as he stares at her, transfixed, looking at her smile, and then to her breasts, and then back up to her smile.
"What do you say?" Lactania coos.
"A… all the milk I could drink?" he asks, gulping. His eyes widen, and his cheeks flush pink.
"As much as I can produce. Even after my ignoble defeat, I still can produce all of this." She says this, opening her arms wide, reminding Markus of the aftermath of her battle. "Virtually limitless milk, and I'm willing to share it with you."
"B… but why…?"
"I see something in you," she coos, stroking a thumb under his chin to grab up the last dollop of her drink. She slides that thumb up to his mouth, allowing him to suckle the droplet off of her finger. "Something powerful, and something wonderful. Something that I hope to unlock. Now then, finish your meal."
He tackles her back onto the ground, grabbing one titty and then the other, squirting and sucking, slurping and gulping. It's the sweetest, creamiest, dreamiest milk he ever had! And it is all his to have for the rest of his life!
Lactania sighs softly, relishing this sensation of a hungry mouth drinking so profoundly from her tit. His suckling is so passionate, and yet he still remains so gentle with her. No rough groping, no pinning, no humiliation... only genuine, heartfelt breastfeeding. The way he keeps his eyes closed… The way he pins his ears back submissively… The way he bobs his head subtly with each creamy gulp he takes… It's all so endearing. She strokes his soft mane, silently encouraging him to drink and drink.
The dragon continues to drink his fill as the day wanes, and the moon casts its glow upon the mounds of the sanctum. After having all he can muster, he pulls away from her, toppling over and sloshing back and forth.
He groans in delight, sprawled out, so full, so filled, so… so big!
"Ah!" he gasps, grasping onto his big belly, which sloshes in his touch. "Oh no, Mistress Lactania!" he gasps, waddling up to sit up. "I'm so sorry. Your milk… Did I drink all of your milk?"
"Oh, hush now," Lactania says, standing over her pool once more. "I told you already, didn't I?" she says, ushering him forward with a beckoning finger.
He crawls up to her, watching in awe as she squeezes one tit and then the other, her breasts producing a hearty stream into the pool with no signs of slowing down. "My lactomancy is so powerful that something like a hungry dragon can't slow me down. You need not worry about draining me dry… unless you really, really want to try."
"N… no!" he says, bowing down. "I'll savor every last drop you produce!" he says. "I will not waste any more, I promise."
"Very good, stomach-caster," she says, standing tall, narrowing her eyes. With arms akimbo, she tilts her hip and nods. "Your training in lactomancy starts tomorrow afternoon, my apprentice. Make sure you come on time and that you bring only your empty stomach." She giggles at that, stepping back in the pool of milk, disappearing in a splash of magical energy.
Magic is a strange and wondrous thing. It is the ability to accomplish anything one sets their mind to. There's nothing that an aspiring mage cannot do with enough dedication and study. Markus now knows that his own journey has truly begun. When he stumbles to his feet, holding his swollen, milk-filled belly, the spell caster roars in laughter, mirthfully looking forward to the beautiful, milk-filled dream days that are to come.
And maybe, just maybe, he'll discover the most extraordinary secrets through such a tasty vocation?