"Revenge" Chapter 4

One day while laying in bed, I came up with a sequence about pumping up a woman's breasts who did not want to expand, initially, but allowed her boyfriend to continue to fill her, anyway.  Funny how such a simple idea can develop, huh? (pun intended, of course)  That was back in 2014, I think.  Maybe 2013.  I just thought it was a hot idea, but I needed to create a whole backstory as to why he was so insistant in pumping her and just why she actually always gave in and let him pump her.  Little by little, "Revenge" began to coalesce.  This week's post contains that basic scene I had come up with.  I hope you enjoy it and that it pushes your buttons.  There will be two more posts of "Revenge" after this one on this blog, but if you'd like to continue to read it as it's written, you can subscribe to my "Revenge" Blog.  Information is on the right-hand side bar, if you're interested.

"Revenge" is a rough, first draft as it is posted in this blog.  Please be aware that there will be a myriad of spelling and grammatical errors.

REVENGE

 by

Shadowmuse Blown

Chapter Four

August 2014

1800ccs; I-cup

"Honey," she said, with a bit more concern, "I'm up to a J-cup! Stop the machine! I don't wanna get any bigger!"

"Shhhhh..." he said, and came around the side of the chair to kiss her.

She opened up, melting under his tongue, and they kissed passionately for a while as her breasts slowly filled and filled. But Tory wasn’t even aware of the pump, anymore.  Her mind and soul were totally filled with this man and how wonderful it felt to kiss him and how much he meant to her and how she wanted to please him because he was so wonderful.

When he withdrew, he looked in her eyes. "You get me so hot," he told her.

She smiled, but then remembered the pump and looked at the read-out.

457ccs

"Oh no!" she cried. "Honey, please stop the machine! I don't want get this big!" She looked down at her swollen bosoms, now bigger than K-cups.

"Don't you want to drive me so crazy?" he whispered into her ear.

"But I'm getting so big!" she said in a small voice. "Please don't make me get any bigger..."

He unzipped his fly and fished out his throbbing cock and placed her hand on it.

"Oh honey..." she cooed. She did want to drive him crazy.

He moaned.

"The bigger you get the more excited I get," he whispered, and kissed her deeply, shuddering as she pumped his cock, already slick with precum. "Tell me you want to get bigger for me," he coaxed, withdrawing his tongue to cover her cheeks with light kisses as he shivered from her hand's ministrations.

"Oh honey..." she whispered. "I love getting you excited..."

"Tell me..." he said, stifling a moan of ecstasy as her hand elicited delicious sensations from his hyper-excited mast. He looked at her swelling chest and had to fight to keep from exploding. She looked so fucking insanely hot with these bigger breasts!

She looked at the read-out again.

621ccs

"Tell me..." he repeated, right on the brink of orgasm, his body shaking from her hand's manipulations.

There's no going back, she thought to herself. I'm already so big that I've lost my job. I'm already past the point where I'm merely huge. I'm swelling into the ranks of the almost freakishly large. I can't go back. I might as well use it to my advantage. It drives him so crazy...

"I want to get bigger," she said, unable to believe her own words. But feeling his cock surge in her hand, she pressed onward. "Oh, honey... make me really big, honey... I wanna get so fucking big for you. Blow me up, honey. Blow me up HUGE..."

It was too much for him and he pressed his mouth to hers and let her fill his oral cavity with her tongue as he exploded in her hand, gushing across the floor as her breasts filled larger and larger. As she felt him suck her tongue deeply into his mouth, she found she could just see the digital dispaly out of one eye...

703ccs

Holy shit... Tory thought to herself. How big would she get as he came and came, possibly forgetting about the machine pumping countless CCs into her awaiting tanks of lust? She felt a hand of his come down to cup one of her incredibly huge balloon-tits. She felt his trembling hand as he hefted the new weight of her swelling bosom, felt his fingers squeeze inward a little to appreciate her volume. Her hand felt his cock swell with each ejaculation, felt it course up and out of his shaft—especially from under his rod—as each thick, heavy load rocketed out and exploded into the air. She heard each stream as it splattered thickly on the linoleum floor. Again and again he erupted, jetting out another and another hot rope. She felt him suck harder on her fat tongue with each new wave of his orgasm, and wondered if he could actually feel her bloated breast enlarge with the continuously added saline being forced into her implant with each passing second.

749ccs...

He withdrew from her tongue and looked down at her gorgeous face.

So big... she mouthed the words at him, her half-lidded eyes gazing at him full of sexual power.

A moment ago, he had been in control: forcing her already big breasts to inflate far bigger than she had ever wanted, and now she was telling him to make her even bigger! His plans were working far better than he'd hoped. He shivered again as she elicited another ejaculation from his delirious member, her bloated bosom so big in his hand.

His mouth was open in ecstasy as he continued to cum in her hand. His orgasm was waning, but she could still feel him pump in wave after wave in her eager palm—shorter now, no doubt, with less volume, but he was still cumming. It was so intense to watch him looking back at her while she knew that he cumming simply from her breasts swelling. She loved watching his eyes bulge with each wave of orgasm as she felt his cock inflate a bit in response.

800ccs.

The machine stopped on its own.

Her puzzled look was obvious, and he cleared his throat, even as he finished cumming in her hand.

"I set the pump to stop when it reached 800ccs," he said. "I figured I might get a little pre-occupied."

"Oooooooo..." she cooed at him. Her hand slick with semen, she messaged his cockhead through the end of his orgasm. She watched his face: his mouth open and a little "uh" escaping his lips with each post-orgasmic shudder. "Yeah, honey, that's it... I want you to feel the max with each little echo... Hold on to my new big bosom, honey... It's so fucking big, and it's all for you..." She milked him until he stopped shuddering from the little post-cum shivers, and he leaned over to kiss her once more.

"Let's get you unhooked," he said, shoving his happy cock back in his pants and zipping them up. He retrieved a cotton ball, dabbed it in some solution and then placed it over the left needle's injection site and covered it as he withdrew the needle. When he was satisfied that the bleeding had stopped—caused by the sheer size of the needle—he repeated the process on the right needle. "The design of these needles allows them to lock into the port so that higher pressure can be used in filling the implants," he explained, as he finished his work. When he was done, he walked around in front of her and extended his hands to signal her to get up.

Tory sat up.

"Whoa..." she said, noting the full effect of gravity on her new eleven-and-a-half-pound pair of breasts. "I can feel the weight difference right away."  She looked down at her swollen mammaries. "I'm not sure how big I am, though."

"In terms of volume," Ken replied, "you're up to a total of 2600ccs in each breast."

"Fuck..." Tory whispered.

"As far as a cupsize goes," he continued. "Look." He went over to the pump and showed her one of the digital read-outs. It had a small window and read "M". "I had this designed, myself," he explained. "So, I figured it might be helpful to you to see what approximate cupsize that volume translated for you."

"An M cup?" she asked, unbelieving. "Fuck," she repeated. "I can't believe I'm so fucking big!"

He smiled. "You look fucking awesome!" he reported.

She looked up at him.

"Am I big enough for you now?" she asked, and smiled.

"Here," he said, purposely not answering the question, but returning the smile and handing back her V-neck green stretch top. "No point in bothering with that tiny I-cup bra, is there?"

She pulled the top over her new bloated tanks and laughed. "No, I don't suppose there is."

She had a wonderful weekend with Ken. She wound up using the I-cup bra so that she looked extra-outrageous, bulging out of it, sinfully, when they went out to dinner. She felt bold and super-hot with him. Everything she did was to excite him and drive him crazy, and he, in turn, excited her with his reactions. She had cum harder that weekend then she'd ever remembered before, and it seemed as if he had been even more excited than she could recall, too, if that were possible. She loved the stares when they went out, because it just reinforced how much Ken thought she was desirable. The bigger her tits, the more it drove him crazy, and so any negative reactions she got out in public just boosted her sexual desire, knowing that Ken would love it.

~ ~ ~

But on Monday morning, alone in her apartment, things felt much different. The sexual fantasy was gone, replaced by the sheer fact that her bust was ENORMOUS, and that she would probably be fired today. She looked at her reflection in the mirror over her bureau. Ken had furnished her with a great M-cup bra—knowing full-well in advance that he was planning on blowing her up that big—and she wore it now under an emerald green top—with a high neckline, so as not to suggest anything further, sexually—and her black pantsuit. There was no hope of buttoning her suit jacket. Her swollen orbs projected out so far! They stuck out a good seven inches while wearing the bra—thrust forward of her jacket's sides, which were open wide due to the fact that her bosoms bulged out past either side of her rib cage. I look like I've shoved a couple of balloons under my top, she thought, shaking her head. She had felt so sexually empowered when she was with Ken: her big tits were a badge of honor, a sign that she wanted to please him, sexually. She could take on any taunt or leer or joke with ease when she was near him. It had been a wonderful sexual fantasy world. But without him around, it was back to reality, except that she still had these fantasy breasts! And they were so fucking HUGE! It had been one thing when she was still an I-cup. Somehow, she could manage to deal with that size, but now they were four cupsizes bigger! 

She took a deep breath to calm herself, only to watch her already stupendous bust rise with her inhalation, making her appear even bigger. She shook her head again.

"Fuck," she said, quietly.

She went over it again in her head. It had been one thing when she had decided how big she was going to go. When she had chosen the I-cup as a goal, she felt that that was enormous, but that it was somehow manageable. She could be tremendously buxom, but not so damn outrageous as to instantly call attention to herself where-ever she was. The M-cup size that she was now, was beginning to change all that. Some would consider her freakishly large now (although, there were those who had already thought that when she was an I-cupper). She had to admit, she was pushing the boundaries of what she would consider a "freak". She looked so "in-your-face-big" now, and it hadn't been by her choice. Not initially, anyway. She had eventually told Ken to make her bigger because she had gotten so caught up in the sexual excitement of the whole thing. The idea of his excitement growing because of her swelling breasts had been impossible to overcome. When she had first stood up, she had regretted the decision a little, but soon afterward had gotten caught up in the sexual fantasy of the whole situation with him, wanting to ever tease Ken—feeding off of his excitement. For the rest of the weekend, she had felt that she could face the world with these super-breasts and not be afraid. She had even fantasized about going to work and shoving them in her boss' face, daring her to fire her.

But now, the adrenaline was gone. The sexual excitement and fantasy were gone. Ken wasn't here, and her gigantic tits remained.

She didn't feel sexually empowered.

She felt like a bimbo shoved into a woman's suit, pretending to be an executive, but still looking like a whore.

Might as well get it over with, she thought to herself, and left her mirror.

Everyone seemed to be staring at her on the subway into Manhattan. Women leered at her or laughed. Men blatantly stared or laughed. Old ladies smirked and frowned, shaking their heads. It was a crowded train and it was packed. She stood over someone sitting on a bench and wondered if they stared up at her cantilevered chest.

On the street she passed a building under construction.  The guys whistled or called out rude things.

"Hey! Boobs!"

"My number's 777-7777!"

"Holy shit!"

"How do you walk with them things?"

"Look at the tits!"

"Oh, baby! I LOVE you! Suffocate me with your balloons!"

And on and on and on.

Everyone in her company seemed to do either a double-take on her, or just let their eyes bug out of their sockets, to varying degrees. By the time she got to her office and closed the door, she was breathing fast and near tears. She did nothing for a while and then got up and paced her office.

How could she even hope to accomplish doing her job with reactions like those?

Not that she could blame them. She had transformed herself into something beyond the normal or notable into something rare and bizarre. She had gone from raising an eyebrow to raising both eyebrows, and dropping a jaw.

After a while, there was a knock on the door.

She quickly composed herself and sat down.

"Come," she said, flatly.

It was Carol in posting. Carol was a forty-something brunette whose F-cup bust had always made Tory think of her as a cow. That was before Tory's bust began to swell, of course. Ever since Tory had been a C-cup last year, and had begun to realize that a big bust didn't mean a small brain, she'd begun to treat Carol very differently, even apologizing for her previous meanness, at one point.

"Are you okay?" Carol asked, a look of concern on her face.

Tory shook her head, and motioned for Carol to close the door.

She looked at Carol for a few moments.

"What's wrong?" Carol asked. "You looked so upset when you came through posting."

Tory indicated her enormous set with a wave of both of her hands.

"This is what's wrong," she said, barely able to contain the tears that wanted to burst forth.

"You're so big!" Carol said. "Is that it? Why did you let yourself get so big?"

Tory let out a short, bark of a laugh.

"It seemed like such a good idea over the weekend," she said.

"Why isn't it still a good idea?" Carol wanted to know.

"Because I'm so... BIG!" Tory replied, with exasperation. "Everyone looks at me like a freak."

"Was it something you felt you really wanted to do when you did it?"

"Yeah," Tory replied. "But Carol, I'm going to lose my job!"

"Why?"

"They didn't like how I kept getting bigger," Tory replied. "They don't think it's very appropriate and that it casts the company in a bad light. They told me that if I ever got any bigger than when I was an I-cup, they'd let me go."

"So, why did you do it, then?" Carol asked, puzzled.

"Because..." Tory trailed off, trying to think of the words. How explicit did she want to get with Carol, after all? After a moment, she decided to come clean. After all, Carol was one of the few people who was treating her like a human being. "Because I got caught up in trying to please my boyfriend for the sexual thrill of it."

Carol slowly nodded, an "Aha!" look dawning on her face.

"And it seemed like the right thing to do," Carol said. "And you felt good about it, initially?"

"Yeah..." Tory replied, slowly. "I did. But then when Ken wasn't around this morning, I didn't have that euphoria anymore. Suddenly, I just felt very vulnerable."

"Well," Carol said, "one can be very vulnerable when one's buxom. You have to kinda wear your boobs like armor sometimes. Just look at how mean you used to be to me and Silvia on your own team."

"I was a fucking idiot," Tory replied.

"But you have to protect yourself against the idiots," Carol said. "Not all of them get big boobs and learn what it's like." She smiled.

"I guess that's what really hurts," Tory said. "I know what they're thinking. I know how little they think of me. And I know I used to be even worse. I guess I deserve every leer and lewd remark."

"Perhaps," Carol shrugged, "but you don't deserve to lose your job."

"I'm a fool, Carol," Tory said.

"Let me ask you a question," Carol said after a moment. "What's more important to you right now, your boyfriend or your job?"

"I..." Tory began, then stopped. "I guess, my boyfriend, when you get right down to it."

"Then, the next logical question is: which is more important? Doing something that pleases you and your boyfriend or something which you do only to keep your job?"

"Huh..." Tory responded. "Maybe I'm not such a fool."

"I don't know," Carol said. "But unless your boyfriend will pay your bills, it will suck to be unemployed."

Tory laughed. "Well," she said, "I hope he'll help me out a bit, anyway."

Tory thanked Carol and then followed her out to the aisle. "There's no time like the present," she told her and headed off to Dick Stamper's office.

When she appeared in his door, she nearly bust out laughing at the look of shock that overtook his features upon seeing her physique.

"Step inside," he finally managed to say. When she'd closed the door, he continued. "Are you insane?" he asked her. "What the hell is wrong with you? You told me that you wouldn't get any..." he trailed off, trying to figure out how to put it.

"Bigger," Tory finished for him, and feeling amused at his reaction.

"You think this is funny?" he asked her upon seeing the smirk on her face.

"I think it's fucking hilarious, Dick," she replied. "You gonna call Angela or just keep ogling my tits?"

Stamper turned red at her comment and immediately picked up the phone to dial Angela Atkinson's extension.

"Angela?" he asked into the receiver. "We have a problem. Will you come to my office immediately? I have Avalon here."

He hung up the phone.

"And to answer your statement," Tory said, "I didn't have any plans to get any bigger. But certain circumstances prompted me to change my mind."

"I can't believe that this is you, standing here in front of me," he said. "You used to put down women with big breasts. How did you manage to change your mind?"

Tory shrugged. "What do you think?" she asked. "Do I look better this way than as a flatsy?"

Before Stamper could issue a response, the door opened and the V.P. for the department, Angela Atkinson, came in. She took one look at Tory, and closed the door.

"You're fired," she said, a determined look on her face.

"Thank-you," Tory replied.

"You did this purposely to get fired?" Atkinson asked her.

"No, but I didn't feel like waiting around here all day to feel the ax," Tory said.

"What's more," Atkinson told her--a surging anger rising with each sentence--"I'm going to make sure you never work in this industry again. I'll be damned if I'm going to have some cow make a fool out of me! You knew you were going to augment yourself like this from the beginning. I don't know why you suddenly wished to look like a fucking blimp-titted whore, but you are not going to walk out that door and find another job doing anything remotely similar. You should now work in an industry more to your suiting like prostitution or making hard-core sex videos or stripping. Work for an audience of self-wanking assholes, where your sex-balloons can make you a decent living between abortions, you disgusting slut. You make me sick!"

And with that, Atkinson stormed out of the room, a look of barely contained fury on her face.

Tory just stood there for a moment, stunned at the sudden vitriol that had spewed from Atkinson.  After a moment of staring at the door that Atkinson had slammed on her way out, she looked over at Stamper, who didn't look pleased.

"Is it just me, or was that an overreaction?" Tory asked, realizing that she was shaking a little.

"Get out," Stamper said, angrily. "Security will be up to escort you off the premises."

"You think I deserved that outburst?" she asked, surprised at his reaction.

"Just get the fuck out of my sight you balloon-titted whore," he said, and picked up the phone to dial security.

Reacting as if she'd just been struck across the face, Tory slowly went to the door and let herself out. She went to the copy room and collected a few empty paper boxes and went back to her office to clear it out. A security guard showed up to stand by her door as she cleaned out her desk and stripped the walls of years of gathered mementos and personal effects. When others saw the guard, some of them came in to help her, and to call a cab. Abby found out about what had happened and came in to help, as well. She took the rest of the day off so that she could help her friend move everything back to her apartment.

~ ~ ~

"What am I going to do?" the super-buster blonde that was Tory Avalon asked her lover, Ken, when he stepped into her apartment that evening. She had called him to cry about the whole episode and he told her that he'd be over that evening after work.

"Well," he replied, taking her into his arms and hugging her while he grew instantly hard from feeling her swollen bulbs press up into his chest, "you won't have to deal with that bitch anymore, that's for sure."

"Her whole blow-up was weird," Tory said. "I've never seen her like that, it was as if my pumping up my boobs was an affront to her."

"Perhaps it is," Ken suggested. "After all, you used to have a pretty low opinion of large breasted women and an even worse one of augmented women. At least, from what you've told me."

"Yeah," Tory replied. "I did."

"She may see the whole 'super-augmentation' thing as just a perversion. You really may have simply disgusted her because she thought you were just out to be a slut."

"Stamper too?" she asked. "He seemed very angry at me, too."

Ken shrugged. "Who knows? He may simply have been echoing his boss."

Ken moved in to kiss her, and as their tongues danced, his cock grew harder and harder. Her lips and tongue were so sensual and her breasts felt so wonderfully big pressed between their torsos. He'd never been with a girl bigger than an F-cup, much less an I-cup or M-cup! He wanted her so badly!

And then, Ken felt her hands opening his belt and, in turn, his pants.

"Ooooh..." he moaned, softly, as she took his member in her hands after fishing them out of his briefs.

"Oh, honey," she cooed, between lustful kisses, "you're so hard, and you're leaking!" She stroked him slowly, forcing a grunt from his lips. "Grab my tits and hold on," she whispered.

As Ken held onto her enormous wonders, she teased his bulb mercilessly, all the while teasing the inside of his mouth with her long tongue. When she had him shaking, and his breathing was ragged, she turned it on full steam. "Yeaaaaahhhh..." she teased. "I'm so fucking big that you can't help but explode in my hands, honey..."

She felt him dig his fingers into swollen saline bombs, and when his mouth fell open and his big cock swelled up just a tad more, she knew she had him ready to explode.

"Burst for me," she cooed in his ear.

In the next instant, she felt his whole body tense as he gasped and fiery hot cum blasted out of his canon. She giggled a light, airy giggle as she continued to frig him, pointing his enraged organ skyward so that his ejaculate splattered up against the underside of her enormous bosoms, soaking the top she had worn since this morning when she had considered herself in her bureau's mirror. At the time, she had felt lost: a bimbo with fantasy tits that was no longer in her fantasy world.

But now Ken was here and her fantasy world had returned. Nothing could harm her now. With her job's termination, she had had her major reason for strife between her fantasy world and the real world severed. Oh, there would still be other major hurtles, but that had been the biggest. What could go wrong now that she had her perfect man and could please him so effortlessly?

She pumped him until his orgasm began to subside and then quickly dropped to her knees to pop him in her mouth and coddle him there through his post-orgasmic shudders. He grabbed her head and shoved it against his groin as felt the last echoes of his orgasm.

When he had finished completely, he told her to get changed so that he could take her out to dinner. As always, he had a difficult time keeping his mind on his food, only now it was even harder to concentrate with her breasts swollen all the more. He noted how she had to push the plate a bit further away from herself in order to see its contents, as well.

They discussed possible reasons as to why Atkinson and Stamper had been so upset, and talked about her developing a thicker skin while she was about town without him around. What strategies could she mentally adopt that would put her in the same frame of mind when Ken was not with her as when he was?

"But what the hell am I going to do for a living?" Tory asked at one point, after dinner had been served.

Ken thought about it a moment.

"You're a gorgeous woman," he said. "And not only irresistibly sexy, but now you're fairly unique with that huge chest and slight physique. What about starting your own web site?"

She put down her knife and fork and looked up at him.

"You mean, do sex on the internet?" she asked, surprised at his response. "Isn't that just what Atkinson slammed me with?"

"It doesn't have to be sex, per se," he replied. "You could just do pictures and video of you posing and such. There are several very large-busted women who do just that. No sex, and a couple of them don't even pose topless, though I suppose you'd make more if you did."

"Just pose for pictures and videos?" she asked, surprised again.

"You're big enough that I think a lot of men would subscribe to a site featuring you doing just that."

"Huh..." she mused, and picked up her utensils again.

"I know of a good web designer that I could put you in touch with," Ken continued. "I think she'd do an awesome job on your site."

And within a couple of months vicTORYous.com was born.

"Revenge" Chapter 3

Well, I may not be writing a Christmas story this year, but there is a little bit of Christmas in this week's post of chapter three.  I got a little crazy with last year's Christmas story and it wound up taking me half a year (or more) to complete, so, I think skipping the Christmas story this year and focusing on writing "Revenge" is a good idea.  For those of you who have not subscribed to my "Revenge" blog, and haven't seen these chapters when they were originally posted, I do hope you enjoy them, and consider subscribing.  The balance of the chapters are on my private "Revenge" blog.  True, you could simply wait and see the first six chapters all posted here, but then, that will be it.  To read the rest of "Revenge" as I write it, you will need to subscribe to that blog.  See the sidebar for instructions on how to join.

"Revenge" is a rough, first draft as it is posted in this blog.  Please be aware that there will be a myriad of spelling and grammatical errors.

REVENGE

 by

Shadowmuse Blown

Chapter Three

November 2014

1000ccs; E-cup

"Cow," Gail said to Tory the next time she saw her at Thanksgiving. While she'd seen her parents every two weeks (after each fill), she hadn't seen Gail since she had been a C-cup. The change in size from a C to an E was quite obvious to Gail, as Tory knew it would be.

"Yup," Tory replied. She had taken pains for Abby to see her point of view, because Abby was sympathetic, and a good friend. Gail, on the other hand, would never really care what drove Tory to expand her bustline, so she basically didn't bother to make her sister see why. "Bigger, fatter tits, just blowin' 'em up bigger and bigger."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Gail asked, shaking her head. "What does mom and dad think about your ballooning boobs?"

"They haven't said anything, actually," Tory replied, "since my initial surgery."

"They don't think you're a fucking Dolly-Parton-freak for slowly pumping up your tits?"

"Not that I'm aware," Tory said, and smiled.

"I can't believe how fucking huge your chest is now," Gail said.

Tory laughed.

"This is nothin'," she said. "I'm just gonna keep on pumping them bigger and bigger, sis."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Gail asked.

"I'm just a bimbo now, Gail," she replied, with a smile. "Bimbos love to have big fake tits. The idea is to get so big that your guy's cock gets lost in them."

"He must be pretty big, then!" Gail laughed.

"He's huge!" Tory replied with wide eyes.

"You're an idiot," Gail said, still laughing.

"Thanks," Tory said, and laughed as well.

~ ~ ~ 

December 2014

1300ccs: F-cup

They had a date on Christmas Eve, and Tory looked ravishing in the red dress that appeared from under her white winter faux fur coat. It was faux because Tory didn't want it to be made out of animals, but that didn't mean it was cheap. It was incredibly luxurious: a present from Ken earlier this month. Ken gave the white fur to the coat-check girl and took in Tory's scorchingly hot look. The dress plunged deeply, revealing more bulging breastmeat than Ken had ever seen before. It hugged her every curve and ended just above mid-thigh to reveal acres of her long sensual legs in dark stockings and 6" black spikes. This was the first time tonight that he had laid eyes on her figure beneath the coat, as she had refused to open it in the limo.

"You like?" she cooed, as he took her arm and the maitre de showed them to their table.

He looked down on her cleavage, admiring the way it bobbled with each step.

"Definitely," he replied.

"I persuaded the doctor to add an extra 50ccs during each of my last two fills," she explained. "So, I'm kind of an 'F-cup-and-a-half'." She giggled sexily in a way that he found very exciting. "That's why there's so much more of me to see tonight. I've been pumped to 1300ccs in each boob."

Ken found dinner difficult to eat that night as he watched his buxom companion across the table, who found every and any excuse to wiggle her shoulders or shift her torso or do just about anything that would cause her fat tanks to move deliciously in the dress' opening.  They were too big and tight to jiggle, but they bobbed about very enticingly.

After dinner, Ken suggested they head back to his place, but Tory insisted that they go clubbing a bit just to drive him crazy. By the time they entered his townhouse at 1am, Ken's crotch was soaked in pre-cum. Inside, they dropped their coats by the glowing Christmas Tree and headed up to Ken's bedroom.

Once she'd removed all of his clothes, she let him unzip her dress so that it fell to the floor. Stepping out of it, she turned around and approached him, his fat cock throbbing with a stream of pre-cum oozing to the floor.

"Oh my someone's excited!" she cooed, and pressed her forearms together to make her big dugs bulge ominously.

"That's the same Bombshell bra you wore as a C-cup all these weeks when you wanted to look like an F-cup. How could you fit in it now? Isn't it full of padding?" he asked.

"No," she said, quietly as she approached him. "Each time I got filled, I removed some of the padding. I'm fairly talented with a needle and thread. Now there's none in it at all. Now it really is a bombshell bra: it's the shell and my boobs are the bombs." And with that, she pressed herself against his chest and raised her head to feel his lips against hers. Sensually, her tongue danced with his. Tory could feel his throbbing cock between her thighs. His left hand cupped her breast as the other went to her cheek. She had her arms around him, crushing her big bust between them.

"Do you want to unwrap your present now?" she cooed, after a few moments.

He stared into her big steel-blue eyes, wanting her more than anything he had ever wanted. She was so beautiful. So sexy. And now, so fucking built! He had to remind himself that he had to separate lust from love. It was okay to lust her—and he lusted her a lot—but he must not fall into the trap of loving her. It was bad enough that he was enjoying her company and the time they spent together. He knew that the whole affair was risky: that he might very well be in danger of liking—or falling in love with—the woman that he had plotted against for so long. But it was a necessary risk. So far, everything had gone far better than he had hoped. She had fallen for him—hard—and she had done everything that he'd requested. He had little doubt that she was also falling in love with him, if she hadn't months ago, already. The only way the entire plan could work was if he immersed himself almost totally into his role. But what if he immersed himself too far? He looked at her gorgeous features and asked himself if he was likely to fall in love with her, and the answer came quickly.

No.

He wanted her, yes—but physically.

Still, it was a worrisome sign that he had even felt the need to ask the question. After all, if he fell in love with her, even felt sympathetic for her, then all this time and energy would be for naught.

All these thoughts passed within his mind in a split-second, so that when he replied—"Absolutely!"—there was only the briefest hesitation.

"Then sit on the bed, mister, and I'll give you a little show," she replied.

Ken sat down on the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide and his boner visibly throbbing.

Tory looked at him with a sexy leer and gyrated her torso a bit to give him some various views of her now juicy jugs. She was basically giving him a bit of a lap dance, although she wasn't touching him. After a few minutes she turned around and backed up.

"Unhook me, lover," she said.

Ken took note that the bra had three hooks instead of the two that she had probably worn since she was a teen, and deftly released her burden.

She turned around with her hands on her cups and then slowly let them fall away.

It was the first time that Ken had seen her nipples since that initial time after she'd become a C-cup.

"Woah," Ken said, softly, making Tory smile in response.

Her once relatively small areolae which used to be about an inch in diameter, had stretched out another good half-inch, their surface still a creamy brown and chock full of pebbled tubercles. Her nipples were usually about a quarter inch wide and the same in height, but had apparently swollen with excitement and were now over half an inch in height and few more millimeters wider.

She swiveled her chest from side to side, slowly, to afford him a good look before squeezing them between her forearms.

"I don't think I need to ask if you like 'em," Tory said with a smile, and got down on her knees to bring her big 'uns close to his now scarlet dome. She looked up into his face.

"Thank-you for giving me these breasts," she said. "I know you did it because they get you excited, but you've also woken me up to sexual possibilities that I could never have experienced before. And I certainly have never been able to do this before in my life..." And with that she cupped her fat glands and surrounded his turgid pole with her soft, full flesh.

She held him between her bloated bosoms for a few moments, coddling him with her flesh pressed around him up to the sensitive collar just beneath his red dome. She watched as his constantly oozing pre-cum began to pool around the base of his dome, and then she began to ever-so-slowly pump her heavenly hooters over his turgid shaft.

"Ooooooo..." she cooed, looking up into his eyes. "Do you like that, honey? Does it feel good to feel my big bosoms pressed up around you like this? Can you wait until I get even bigger? How will it feel to have my big tits swell even larger swallowing up even more of your fat pole? Does that excite you, thinking about how much bigger my fat bombs are gonna swell up? Oh yeah... I see it does! Ooooo honey! You're so hard and red!"

She began to pump him quicker, as his moans grew stronger, his pre-cum making the perfect lubricant.

She was so fucking hot now! Those big tits looked and felt so awesome around his delirious pole. He couldn't wait to see her get bigger.

And bigger.

And bigger!

Wait till she finds out just how big she's going to get! Ken thought to himself, his excitement growing all the more as he thought about her bosoms swelling ever-larger like balloons.

"I'm gonna get so big for you, honey!" she cooed. "Does that drive you crazy? Does the idea of me hauling around an even bigger set make you wanna pop? Oh yeah... Do it, honey. Pop it for me... Pop for my big fat blown balloons..."

Her words and the idea that she actually wanted to get bigger for him, was arousing enough.  But he knew she was probably only thinking of getting a couple of cupsizes larger.  What pushed him over the edge were his thoughts of just how big he really wanted her to swell.  Imagining Tory with a chest many times this size, he grunted as his weapon ignited, and he shot a rope a foot and a half into the air.

"OH!" Tory exclaimed—shocked at the sheer magnitude of his eruption. "Oh yeah!" she cried, as her shock turned to joy, as she watched him geyser three or four more good foot-long ropes. "You are a fucking semen-machine!" she gushed, as she continued to softly pump her pontoons over his super-excited shaft, eliciting groans of ecstasy from Ken as he ejaculated again and again, splattering his cum on her breasts, and on his stomach and to either side of the bed.

"Oh shit, honey," Tory said, as she watched the last few little squirts pump from his very happy stick, "I can't believe this is happening. I'm making you cum with my breasts!" She laughed with delight as Ken finished his orgasm and Tory popped him into her mouth to help him get the most out every little post-orgasmic shudder.

It was the beginning of a very long night with Tory enjoying every possible moment of further exciting him with big delights.

Tory spent the afternoon on Christmas Day with her folks out on the Island. Her sister and her family came over to visit, too, and Tory had a wonderful day of it, although, after dinner, while she and her mother were washing up the dishes in the kitchen and everyone else was out in the family room, her mother asked her a question.

"So," she began, slowly, as she dried each item of the large pots that Tory washed because it was too big to fit into the dishwasher, "are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Tory asked, although she would've been surprised if it wasn't about her ballooning bustline.

"Why is your chest getting so big?" her mother asked, quietly. "A C-cup or a D isn't big enough?"

Tory smiled, and turned to her mother. "Is it so terrible?" she asked, the faucet filling a large pot.

"I guess not, but why are you doing it?" her mother asked. "It's so unlike you. You've always been so negative against girls with big chests. It's for a man, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." Tory admitted. "But he's unlike any man I've ever met. I really thought hard about doing it, but in the end, I found I like it and want to take it even farther than we initially planned."

"You're going to get bigger?" her mother asked, in surprise.

Tory nodded.

"How much more?" her mom asked. "You're already huge."

Tory looked down at her chest bulging under the red turtleneck sweater that she wore. "They are pretty big, aren't they?" she laughed. Then, after a moment's thought, she continued, "Three more cupsizes and then that would be it."

"Three!" her mother exclaimed. "Oh my goodness! What size will that be, then?"

"An I-cup," Tory said, simply.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she said, shaking her head, and went back to drying the pots.

~ ~ ~ 

March 2015 

1800ccs: I-cup

The months passed and Tory's chest swelled ever greater. Like clockwork, she visited her doctor every two weeks to have another 100ccs pumped into her ever-burgeoning bosom so that she expanded about a cupsize each month.

The end of March saw her up to her target 1800ccs, in each breast, and an I-cup bra. Her bust was now so swollen with saline that it protruded about half a foot from her ribcage. She had gone from "a very buxom girl"—as she had heard herself described once—with an F-cup chest to a "girl with in-your-face-tits". With an F-cup chest, she had been considered very big busted, but still within the realm of ordinary boobage. But her I-cup boobs were too large to be considered anywhere near the realm of a "normal" bustline. Her chest was now too large to dismiss as anything other than purposely blown to be "in your face". To many, her breasts had swollen into the realm of the comical, and many now dismissed her as a nympho or slut.

Two days after attaining her I-cup status, her boss called her into his office.

Most of the time, Tory had been allowed to work independently, working on accounts by herself and seeing clients as needed. It was unusual for her boss to ask to see her, and she was pretty sure that the meeting was going to center around her bustline, especially when she had been asked to "close the door" to his office after she had arrived.

She sat down in one of the leather chairs and waited for the shoe to drop.

Before he even began speaking, however, the door opened and in stepped his boss.

Angela Atkinson greeted them both and then sat down in the other chair across from Dick Stamper's desk.

"Tory," Dick began, looking very serious, "I want to get straight to the point."

"Please do," she said.

"Your choice in indulging in some rather...excessive cosmetic surgery is your own to make, of course, but after a while, when such an...indulgence becomes extreme, and it begins to affect your job, we have to step in and say something."

"How does having large breasts effect my work?" Tory wanted to know. "I can do all the same functions I always have, just as efficiently."

"It's not how it affects your work that worries us," Dick said. "It's how it affects others."

"Oh?" Tory queried.

"Yes," Dick went on, obviously a bit embarrassed about the subject matter. "When you see clients, you represent our company, and we've begun to worry in the past weeks that your physique will begin to make us appear... rather..." He paused for a moment, trying to think of the best phrase for the situation.

"—Rather ridiculous," Angela interjected. "Frankly my dear, your enormous bust is overshadowing your stellar track record. You are no longer perceived as the sharp professional, but as the "class bimbo". How serious do you think our clients are going to take you when you try to negotiate with them with tits that are larger than grapefruits?"

"I see..." Tory said, quietly.

"How effective do you think you can be with clients when they can't take you seriously?" Angela asked.

"I think that those who've dealt with me in the past, will know me well enough from past performance," Tory replied. "As to new clients, I think I'll need to modify my strategy at meetings to prove to them my depth of knowledge. Or, I could possibly let them think I'm a bimbo and use that as an advantage."

Angela snorted indifference, but then seemed to consider Tory’s tact.

"Do you think," Dick said, "that you will be continuing much more with this indulgence of yours?"

"If you mean: 'Are you going to continue getting bigger?'  My answer is 'no,'" she said. "I'm quite done, now, thank-you very much."

Angela seemed to consider that for a moment. "You have no plans to go bigger, then?" she asked.

"None, what-so-ever," Tory replied.

"Well," Angel continued, "I will need to see that you continue to be an effective agent and that your sales aren't affected. Consider yourself on probation. And I better not see that bustline of yours get any bigger." She proceeded to get up.

"It won't," Tory promised, as Angela left the room.

Dick dismissed Tory with the wave of a hand. "Till next time, Avalon," he said, and went back to his paperwork.

Am I glad that I got to the max size I wanted get to before I got that slap on the wrist! Tory thought to herself as she headed to her own office. She made a lot of money for this firm. That was the only reason they hadn't kicked her out on her keester. She knew that she had been pushing her luck ever since she had achieved an F-cup chest, she was just glad that she had achieved her goal before they had had enough.

She stopped in the ladies room before going to her office, and checked herself out in the mirror.

I'm so fucking huge! Tory thought to herself. Who'd've ever thought I'd ever have a pair of tits, much less a pair of hulking monstrosities as these! She nearly burst out laughing from glee as she checked out the severe hourglass shape of the woman in the business suit reflected back at her. She wore a black suit jacket and a cobalt blue top with a boat collar. She hadn't wanted to appear blatant at work, or, at least, appear to be wearing something blatant. She couldn't help her huge honking bazooms, which were certainly plenty blatant on their own, but she would be damned if someone from HR was going to tell her that she was dressing too sexy. Her big tanks stuck out nearly half a foot under the tight top, and that was more than enough just by itself. She wore a pair of black pants and black stilletos to complete the outfit.

Wait till Ken sees me tonight, she thought, as her clit tingled with the anticipation of his massive erection upon his laying eyes on her bigger chest.

~ ~ ~

She was not disappointed with his reaction. That evening, after changing into skin-tight black leather pants and a red spandex top with a shelf bra and a deep scoop neck, she waited—within her cozy faux fur coat—for him to pull up in the limo. As he exited the limo, she made a statement by letting the coat fly open as she descended the steps in her black leather 5" spiked boots. The wind whipped open the coat beautifully to expose her newly blown baubles, their nipples poking through her top as they distended from the cold and her areolae puffing up, as well, their surfaces covered with mini-tubercles.

"Holy shit!" Ken gushed, as he rushed towards her to wrap his arms around her. They kissed deeply and passionately as Ken felt her enormous tanks press into his chest. They were so wonderfully huge, and he felt his cock swell very fast and very hard. She was getting so big that within the year he knew that he wouldn't be able to completely encircle her with his arms, and this thought made his cock surge all the more. But, of course, she didn't know any of that, yet. She thought she was as large as she would ever get. She thought she was done. But, of course, she was wrong. She would get much larger than this by the time he was through with her. If all went according to plan, she would look back on these days, and think of herself as tiny!

His cock ached at the thought of how big he wanted to pump her. He had no guarantee that she would go along with it, of course, but he felt confident that she would. She would give the okay. Each time, it would be of her own volition. And each time, she would be shocked as to how huge she would grow.

And Ken would be there to enjoy the sexual show.

In the meantime, he had already accomplished much. He had convinced her to augment her own breasts and she had allowed herself to be blown to such amazing proportions that she, herself, would've had a field day with if she had seen a woman of such dimensions before. Indeed, according to his "mole" in her office, she had already been the subject of leers and jokes to her face. She hadn't been outright put-down, though, due to her relatively high status at her job. And although she sometimes was on the receiving end of a particularly nasty barb from time to time while they were out at clubs, she didn't really seem to mind as long as Ken was admiring her. All insults seemed to bounce off of her in such situations. He had asked her about that once, and she had genuinely laughed it off. It didn't matter, she had told him, what anyone else thought. She knew why she had such large boobs, and that made it wonderful.

It was her new ability to "grow" emotionally about big breasts that surprised him. He had opened up more than one whole new world for her. For herself, she had learned that having big breasts didn't mean that you were automatically a gold-digger or a stupid bimbo. She had learned a whole new area of sexuality that was totally absent to her before, either physically or conceptually. She had also learned what it was like to be on the receiving end of derogatory remarks about her breasts' size, and how it stung to be thought of as a bimbo just because you were buxom. She had told him of the cat-calls and lewd remarks that she often got in public, but she was learning how to deal with them. Women were especially nasty to her at times, whether it was nasty looks from old ladies or laughter and spiteful remarks by others on public transport or on the street.

So, was it enough? Was it enough to know how the "other half" lived, to live in their shoes?

It would be, he told himself, if she had merely done the same thing to others. But she had done far, far worse, and soon she would pay for her brutality and icy-cold disregard for others.

He had to be careful. He had found himself admiring her ability to empathize with those who had been teased or shamed for their breast size. Initially, he had wondered if her entire existence after the first augmentation would be hell for the shame of having large breasts, but she had actually learned to enjoy them. That had surprised him. She was not the totally evil character that he had supposed, and that had made him question his resolve at more than one point. It certainly made spending time in her company far easier. He actually enjoyed his time with her. But looming over it all, stood the simple fact of what she had done—something very evil, and for which she must atone for.

But that time could not be now, and would have to wait. For now, he would enjoy her knock-out body and gorgeous face.

In the limo, she opened her coat wide and let him run his hands over her oversized round bombs. Her nipples, which had softened with the heat inside the limo, began to harden and pierce the red fabric of her top again.

"You like how big I am?" she teased, sticking her chest out high. "I love to feel your hands running around my big round beauties."

He couldn't believe how fucking big she'd swollen in such a relatively short time. To think that she had been flat as a board this time last year, and now sported a pair of huge bloated bosoms, where none had existed before, was simply mind-blowing. It felt awesome to feel her big round swollen breasts beneath his palm. There was very little give to them at the moment, but he knew they would become more pliable as her now tight skin grew in the months ahead.

She was only 100ccs bigger than the last time he'd seen her, but the accumulation of growth over the weeks had been considerable, especially since he only saw her about twice a week. It had seemed that he had just gotten used to seeing her at one size before she began to swell to the next. But this would stop, for now. Although Tory thought she had attained her ultimate size, he knew he wouldd get her to go much much bigger. For now, though, this would do. After some time had passed and she finally had some "give", he would push for more saline. 

Much more.

Dinner was difficult, as usual, since his mind was preoccupied with Tory's gorgeous face and superblown bombs of lust bulging under her red spandex top. Afterwards, there was the requisite dancing at a trendy ultrachic nightclub, to which his money and her boobs offered instant access. She pushed him to the limits of lust on the dance floor as she gyrated her body in the most effective way to drive him crazy. Many women looked at her with disgust, but there was no doubt who all the men were looking at on the dance floor.

She asked for them to go to her place that night, and once they got in the door, Tory took the initiative, taking his hand and leading him to her bedroom where she undressed him before telling him to sit on her bed. She quickly removed her dress and began digging in her wardrobe.

"You've got to see me put on some things I used to wear when I was flatchested or even as a C-cup," she giggled. "First..." she pulled out the red silk button-down blouse that he had seen her wear the first day that he'd walked into the bar to meet her.

He laughed. "Tory, that's not gonna fit now," he said.

With a devious laugh, she put her arms through the sleeves and began buttoning the blouse up from the bottom. After the first couple of buttons, it was clear that the blouse was not designed for her massive bust. The fourth button was a bit tight as it rose up toward her bloated twin peaks of lust. The fifth button was just at the beginning of the underside curve of her breasts and it was very difficult to push the button through the hole. Once she did, it was plain that the button was pulling terribly. The sixth button was right across the widest portion of her bust and there was no way that she'd be able to button it on her own. First, she buttoned the top two buttons and then asked for some assistance from Ken to pull the material from either side of the blouse together so that she would have a chance to button the third button, which was in a similar position as the fifth one was, but this time on the upper side of her big bust instead of below. With a little help from Ken, she was able to make the button fit, and now they had the last, and hardest fourth button to attempt. Ken tugged at either side of the blouse to try and pull them together for Tory to button, but it was proving difficult. The closest they seemed to get was an inch gap between the two sides. The effort was made all the more difficult by the constant giggling between the two, with Ken grabbing quick lustful kisses from Tory's full lips and luscious tongue—his cock stiff and throbbing through the entire exercise.

Finally, with a little grunt, Ken gave one more hard tug on the fabric and there was a quick "riiiiip" sound as the blouse ripped at her right sleeve. Ken immediately let got as Tory looked down at the huge whole torn along the right side of the blouse where the sleeve had been attached. She made a comical wide-eyed look with her mouth forming a tight "o" as she appraised the damage—Ken peering around her swollen right gland to catch a glimpseand then the two looked back at each other and burst out laughing.

Shrugging, Ken took the button which Tory had let go, and now easily pushed it through the awaiting button-hole of the blouse.

With a grin, Tory threw back her shoulders and inhaled, but instead of bursting buttons, the side of the blouse continued to rip in response to the added pressure on the tortured garment. They both laughed again.

"Oh well," Tory said, "so much for busting the buttons on that blouse!"

"It would've been hot," Ken admitted, "but you probably should've tried doing that back when you were a couple of cupsizes smaller."

"You think?" she replied, grinning.

Ken then took hold of the front of the ruined blouse and spontaneously ripped it open, sending all of the buttons flying across the room, after which he buried his face in her abundant, bulging cleavage and motorboated her vast bosom.

Tory laughed and pushed him back onto the bed, before heading to her stereo, where she played some music with a heavy beat. She began dancing just for him. Slowly, she finished stripping as she watched his turgid pole grow stiffer and redder until it was oozing a constant stream of pre-cum. When she was finally completely naked, she knelt down before him.

"What's-a-matter, honey?" she cooed. "See something you want? That you want really badly? Somethin' that you wanna fuck?" She laughed and brought her big tanks up against his quivering missile, so that his shaft lay in the valley fronting her big breasts. "Is this where you wanna be?" she teased. "You wanna be inside my cleavage? You wanna feel my big tits wrapped around your little pole, honey? Are they big enough for you to cum between them?" As she spoke, she rubbed her fat melons up and down along the underside of his cock, eliciting soft moans from him.

"Does that feel good?" she asked. "How about this?" she wanted to know as she rose up and brought her bloated bosoms down around his teeming rod.

"Oooooohhhhh..." Ken moaned as his pole sank between her massive hooters, his precum lubricating the way.

She smiled lasciviously at him. "Oh yeah, honey..." she cooed. "That's it... How long can you last in there?" She locked her eyes on his and smiled, deviously.

Ken gripped the couch cushions as his cock sent messages of deliciousness to his brain. It felt so delectably wonderful to feel her soft, full bosoms wrapped around his hyper-excited rocket. He knew he wouldn't last long.

"Does this make you wanna cum, honey?" she teased, as she applied just the right amount of pressure on his ecstatic member.

"Oh..." Ken said, as his eyes bulged.

"Yeah?" she whispered, then realized he was right there. "Let it go, honey," she coaxed. "Pump my big tits, hard!"

With a deep groan, Ken reached to grab her hands which were holding her great gourds tightly around his exploding weapon. He thrust his delirious member skyward and as his dome emerged from betwixt her fat melons, his serpent blasted a thick long white rope two feet into the air.

"Oh YEAH!" squealed Tory as his cockhead sank back between her jumbos only to emerge shooting a second equally abundant load into the sky. "Oh, fuck, honey! That's so hot!"

He blasted again and again, shocked at his own virility and excitement. She just looked and felt so outrageously blown that he simply couldn't help himself. If she got him so excited as an I-cup, would it be even more intense when she was bigger? The answer would have to wait for half a year as her skin got more compliant, but in the meantime, he was having the time of his life.

After that, he saw her nearly every other day instead of twice a week. He simply couldn't stay away. The bigger she got, the more excited he became and thus, the more he wanted to be with her. He couldn't wait till he could make her even bigger.

August 2014

Halfway through August, that summer, Ken invited her over to his place one Saturday afternoon. He took her by the hand and led her to an area of the townhouse that she'd never been in, where he had some offices, and showed her inside a small room lined with cabinets and a counter with a chair that looked much like a dentist's chair. On the counter were various types of equipment. Once inside, he said hello to a woman whom Tory recognized as her New York doctor's assistant, Debbie Bonnetta, an RN.

After greeting the woman, Tory turned to Ken to ask him what the room was all about.

"It's a room that I had put together at some expense so that you no longer have to return to the doctor's for a fill," he said. 

"For a fill?" she asked, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Please remove your top and bra," Debbie instructed. "And have a seat."

"I don't understand," Tory said, even as she pulled off her blue stretch top and handed it to Debbie. "Is this just an exam or—"

"And your bra, please," Debbie prodded.

Nodding, Tory reached behind and unhooked the three clasps to her I-cup brassiere. "But will you please tell me what's going on?"

"Debbie has been instructing me on how to insert the needles for the fill process," Ken said. "Today, I'll actually perform your fill with her oversight."

Debbie had motioned for Tory to sit down and then reclined the chair to a 45 degree angle. "I thought we were done with the fills?" Tory asked.

"No," Ken said.  "I think it would be nice for you to have a bit of a boost, don't you?" he asked, as he prepped the area for the needle insertion with alcohol and a topical anesthetic.

"You want me to get even bigger?" she asked, with some surprise.

"It would drive me so crazy, baby," he said to her.

"But..." She was at a bit of a loss for words. "I thought… I thought we were done with this," she repeated, after a few moments, by which time Ken was injecting her first port—hidden within her armpit—with a chrome needle attached to a clear line. Tory's eyes followed the line to a device on the counter. In the past, the lines had been attached to a manual pump which the doctor had used to slowly inject the saline into her breasts. "What's that?" she asked, indicating the new mechanism, and wincing slightly as the needle pierced her skin.

"It's a pump," Ken said, switching to her other armpit. "Instead of me manually pumping saline, I'll simply hit a switch and let the machine do the pumping." He inserted the other needle as he spoke. "Here, let me show you, now that the connections are already." He stepped over to the counter next to a plastic box from which the lines emanated. Each had a digital gauge above it, both of which presently read "00,000cc". There were other, smaller, digital read-outs labeled "FLOW RATE", "PSI", "SPEED", and a few others. Under the label "SPEED" was the read-out "SLOW", and a knob below that. Ken indicated a red button with an on/off symbol above it, and pressed it.

The unit hummed to life, the lines jerked a little, and Tory could feel the tell-tale coolness of saline entering her implants.

"Honey," she said, looking at him with puzzlement, "you started it?" It was obvious that he had, she simply was surprised that he had simply gone ahead and done it. "But... You're gonna pump me bigger?"

Ken smiled. "Just a little to make you look even hotter, baby."

She smiled. Her past fills had each been a hundred cubic centimeters for each implant, which translated into roughly half a cupsize. She supposed she could get away with that.

The nurse had been watching all of Ken's actions and was now physically checking the lines and the insertion points, nodding her approval.

Tory was surprised at how relatively fast the machine was pumping saline. The readout was nearing 100ccs in only a minute.

"It's much faster than the manual pump," she stated.

"The way the needle connects to the ports is more secure," Debbie said. "It's actually capable of a much faster rate, but we want to test it out on this slowest setting first."

"Oh," Tory said, watching the read-out pass 100, "it's going passed a hundred."

Debbie smiled and headed to the door. "I'll check back shortly," she said.

"Honey?" Tory looked at Ken, bewildered. "Shouldn't you stop it?"

"No," Ken said. "Why?"

"The doctor always stopped at a hundred," she said, nervously eyeing the read-out as it neared 150.

"That was when you could only fit about that much," he replied. "Remember, you were getting fills every two weeks. Now, it's been months since your last fill. You've got a lot more skin to work with."

"But honey!" Tory said with some alarm. "I'm gonna be up a whole cupsize, soon! I can't get that big, honey. Remember what my bosses told me? If I got any bigger, they'd fire me."

As the readout passed 200ccs, Ken smiled reassuringly.

"It's okay," he said.

___________________________________________________________________

[Tory finishes this chapter at 2000ccs and was still swelling]