"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.
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.
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]
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