"Amazing update, guys. Just approved for another three pregnancies on Jezebel. My team loves the results since starting me on this clinical trial. I'm adapting super well to the new formula. My libido is up around four times what it was before the trial. They hooked me up to all the fancy machines and monitored how I reacted to men, women, certain kinks, violent sex versus soft sex, bdsm versus fourplay. My arousal is now mainly triggered by much harsher sex, objectification and misogyny turn me on enormously now, whereas before the trial they barely got a reading. All of my pleasure centers are more sensitive and experience easier arousal and far more intense arousal from all sources. Isn't that incredible?
My IQ has dropped 50 points! Not what they expect every time I continue Jezebel going forward, there's a heavy initial burst of what they called, neurooooo-somethiiiiing...... ummm, basically like brain death. Lots of brain cells, stress, anxiety, thought activity are killed off so that uninhibited arousal can occur. And I have to admit I feel SO much better already. No pesky worries or cares really anymore. I don't think I know how to make plans really now? I just do stuff that feels good and they reward me with more sex and stimulation.... But I find plenty on my own, too!
I'm only eight months into my first pregnancy and this is the life! I used to be in college but I kinda stopped showing up six months in when my brain really started to clear up and feel good. How can I study when playing with my pussy feels THIS incredible now? And have you seen how big my tits have gotten? Now this is a bikini body! ❤️ I want to stay on Jezebel forever and just fuck, fuck, fuck! They even asked me yesterday after they rewarded how big and wet my orgasms are now with a question..... Like, if they wanted to strap me into a fuck machine that has its way with me almost all day, a feeding tube to keep me fed/nice and plump, all the Jezebel I could ever want, but no freedom or autonomy.... Would I do it? And I of course said hell yes! Why would I wanna do anything else but breed, fuck, and eat? Like, duh what a stupid question. Aren't these science guys supposed to be smart? IDK..... All I know is finally everything feels perfect! All you guys saying I'm being like reprogrammed into cattle are just haters!"
"Oh my god. I'm so fucking addicted to this spa that opened at the mall. Like I know big tits are in, but holy fuck. They're legit just pumping girls' boobs full of drugs with no prescription. No medical advice. No concern for safety or overuse. Just a short waiver stating that the spa can do what it wants to your body when you sign up. And you can't sue. That's literally it.
I went because my TikTok feed exploded! And it's pure chaos. A line stretching five stores away. Girls go in, they strip you, take a look at you, and start injecting you. They grab these huge syringes full of blue liquid and inject them into my boobs. I got SO sore and tender. They injected my vulva, and my labia puffed up like a bunch of bees stung my pussy, huge, pink and red, jiggly. And so much fun to play with. Like I already loved gooning and I told the spa worker that and she smiled, injecting my pussy right away, saying she'll give me and extra dose.
She injected my breasts and beyond just soreness they swelled like a couple of water balloons. This is after just my fourth visit. Twice a week for two weeks. From a B-Cup to... an I-Cup or a J-Cup? Not 100% sure. But it's such incredible progress so fast. Much quicker than anything else on the market and like a lot of these drugs like Femruptarin and Rocket, it's completely unregulated because thank God the president signed an executive order telling drug companies to remove any and all regulations or suggested doses. Since there was such a baby crisis and so many dudes were lonely. They figure if we have oversexed figures we'll have no choice but to drop everything, have kids, and date greasy, woman-hating incels.
Honestly? It's kind of working. Two of my friends who went to the spa are dating men who live with their parents now. Guys who just jerk off and leave gross comments on women's profiles and pics all day. Guess I'm not one to talk since I masturbated like six hours a day before going to the spa! Soooo maybe we're more similar than I we thought.... A lot of girls going to the spa are dropping out of college, doing sex work, porn, becoming breeding cows at farms, you know, traditional women's jobs. So it's nice to see so many girls embracing that side of themselves!
Me, I'm shamelessly addicted. I want to see how fucking big these udders can get. They're started leaking milk constantly. They ache so bad I just need someone to milk me. And fuck me. Sex is all I think about. I'm becoming barely functional. I just want to dance, masturbate, and fuck. But, the more I think about it, the more I realize isn't that all women are supposed to be doing? Mating. Breeding. Indulging themselves. Dancing to attract more cock. These massive jiggling tits mean I can't hope to hide it. I have perfect advertisements connected to me, telling men I crave cock. I want cum inside my over-inflated pussy. That's all I am. Hopelessly addicted to swelling bigger every day, becoming a more and more obvious symbol of female disempowerment. A walking, giggling, self-fondling cum rag. And that's it. Hope the spa keeps going... I absolutely NEED to get bigger. ❤️"
Gina always envied her sisters, who were all busty, while she lived her life flat as a board. Of course, they all struggled through school, while Gina excelled academically.
But the witchy sisters found a ritual that they thought would be a good compromise. Gina gives them some of her IQ, and she gets some of the boobage they hoarded.
Except the disparity between the parties was so great, the spell overcompensated. Her three sisters D cups withered away completely as Gina's jugs expanded like water balloons, stretching out her top until she let them free. Unrestrained, she grew to the cumulative size of three busty women combined into one.
Gina watched in confusion as her chest inflated, struggling more with each passing second to understand as her genius IQ got divvied up to her simple siblings. They all ended up with above average intelligence, but poor Gigi barely had the brainpower to speak. She was more focused on squeezing her own chest with a blank, dumb stare.
Gigi's sisters weren't happy to be left completely flat, but three smart girls couldn't replicate one genius' spell. At least they weren't the ones reduced to a giggling cow. They would find success, and Gigi could spend her time fondling herself for the internet to contribute to the household.
Samantha stood still as Damien held a chunky black remote in his hands. "Really? You expect me to accept that THAT is worth the near billion that you scammed out of my father!" She tapped her foot on the ground as she quirked an eyebrow at the heavyset scientist.
"Well..." Damien sighed. "Looks sure can be deceiving." He pointed the remote at Samantha and pressed a button and turned a dial.
The mature redhead gasped as an intense heat swallowed all of her senses, leaving her whimpering and mewling as her breasts surged in size. Her bra snapped, and the buttons of her top fired off in several directions as her bee-stings ripened until they made watermelons look small.
"See?" Damien smugly said as he massaged the throbbing bulge that snaked down his leg. "This remote allows the wielder to manipulate quantum states to shape reality however they want."
Sammie simply nodded as she couldn't understand a single word that Mister Master said. All she knew was that he had a fat cock and that she hasn't wrapped her fat, plump cockpillows around it and drain Mister Master dry. She fell to her knees and crawled toward him. "C~can I suck your dick, Mister Master?"
Sammie beamed as her master unbuttoned his pants and hammered his fat, veiny pillar of dickmeat onto her face. "Of course," Damien chuckled. "All you ever had to do was ask." Before he rocked his hips back and speared himself deep into her throat, making Sammie cum like crazy as the bimbo served her true purpose.
Being cursed to have huge, milky breasts was bad enough, but it turns out there's another twist: anybody drinking it steals away a piece of my personality! My roommate was only trying to help, but my milk gave her my breast obsession, and I'm worried it's only a matter of time before I'm reduced to just a pair of tits for her to play with...
I'm happy to tell you that you won't have to worry for long! Not because the curse will be lifted; goodness, no. Her—formerly your—breast obsession will drive her to keep drinking your milk, eventually pushing her to drink it straight from the source, and each drink will chip away at your personality until there's nothing left! If you're lucky, the next drink will take away your worry, leaving you huge and milky and carefree! Once your worry is gone, things will only start happening faster; you simply won't have it in you to come up with a reason to resist!
At some point after that, your independence will go and you'll wind up completely reliant on her. She makes the decisions. You simply can't do anything without her and you trust everything she says implicitly. When she orders you into a cow print bikini, you aren't worried about what it means and you implicitly accept that, when it comes to your outfit or anything else, he knows best. Surely, she must have a reason for bringing her friends over. You simply aren't capable of worrying about what it'll do to you when they start drinking from your udders, unbothered as they chip away at your personality. One of them gets your vocabulary, another takes your hobbies, another few shave off bits of your intelligence.
As they away your personality, you start to smooth out. Your voice becomes low and monotone, slow and even. You speak in short, simple sentences or—increasingly often—just grunts and hand gestures. That is, until you stop speaking at all. You don't need to. Your roommate takes care of everything for you. You're just blank and empty for her. It's so nice to let all of that stuff go and just be. You don't have to think. You don't have to worry. You couldn't, even if you had to, but it's still nice to be free of such burdens. You just have to be big. Big and busty and soft and milky. Your roommate loves your massive, sloshy udders. She's obsessed with them! All you have to do is let her grope you and knead you and grow you and suck on your huge, swollen udders. There isn't much left for her to take from your personality, but you'd let her have it all anyway.
So like my boyfriend left out this big tray of brownies and I of course ate the entire tray, but it turns out they were like super Bimbo Mommy Brownies and like my head feels fuzzy, my boobs are getting all sloshy n'stuff, and Now my cute little tummy is growing super round! Like what should I do bestie!?
Aw, sweetie! It sounds like you already know what you should do! I bet if you closed your eyes and really thought hard, rubbed your last two braincells together the same way you rub your new, big, juicy, titties, you'd see the answer, clear as day!
No? Nothing? Nothing at all in the empty, bimbo head of yours?
That's okay, cutie! Bimbo Mommies aren't supposed to think, anyway! I'll just tell you the answer to make it easy: go find your boyfriend and thank him! I'm sure he left out those growth-inducing, brain-draining brownies specifically for you to eat and you were so good, eating every last one of them! And now look at you! Busty and curvy and soft and giggly, exactly the way he wanted you! Doesn't that feel amazing? Doesn't it feel so good to know that you're doing exactly what you're supposed to, looking exactly how he wants you to?
But now you have to go find him and thank him for helping you feel so good! I'm sure he'd love nothing more than to lay on your lay and suck on your huge bimbo mommy titties! He might fight against you or try to stop him, but he's just being modest! Pin him down, if you have to. Make him suck on your swollen mommy titty until he gets almost as dumb as you. Rub between his legs if it'll help calm him down. He took good care of you, giving you those brownies to make you so big and so soft and so sexy. Now it's your turn to take care of him! And if he sucks long enough and hard enough that your huge, sloshy bimbo mommy titties start to make milk, then you'll just have to reward him for that, too!
Being improved by a Man is very easy, you hardly need to do anything, just sit back, switch your brain off and let him fill you up with his body-altering cum.
Once you've got a huge pregnant belly and a foggy little head, you'll know you've made the right choice, if you can still think.
Feeling yourself get less intelligent with every baby will be one of the best feelings you'll ever have, every point of IQ dropped will only further your addiction to being a docile baby factory, so don't fight it and just breed like a proper cow.
I don’t just miss the belly. I miss what it meant. The weight of it. The pull. The constant reminder that I’d been used for someone else’s pleasure, and left to carry the consequence. My tits were always sore and leaking. My pussy always wet. My whole body changed because he didn’t feel like pulling out.
And god, I was so stupid when pregnant. Not just slow—fuzzy. Like my brain had been wrapped in cotton. Every thought was warm and soft and slippery. I’d forget my own name if someone didn’t call me “mama” or “breeder” or “good little cumdump.” I couldn’t keep a single smart thought in my head—and I don’t think I really need to, not any more.
He made me his incubator. His leaking, waddling, smiling proof that he could fuck a purpose into me. And I glowed with it. Dumb, obedient, happy to be ruined.
And I miss it. I miss being claimed. I miss how proud I felt to be so clearly used. I miss being too full of him to care about anything else.
And I wouldn’t even hesitate to do it again.
If some man looked me in the eye and said, “You’d look better knocked up and leaking like the dumb little cum tank you are,” I’d spread for him on the spot. No thinking. No questions. Just soaked thighs and a whimper. Because he’d be right.
Hey, it’s what you were born for. You wouldn’t be here if evolution hadn’t given you a body that craves to be stuffed with a man’s dna. You love being left with a sore pussy full of cum and feeling what he gave you leak out of you the rest of the day, but when his seed finally takes root in your womb you’ll get to carry more and more of him around with you every day. His claim on your body growing as time passes. You’re womb being used to incubated his child. You’re breasts getting sore and growing preparing to feed his child (and him). You’re body softening and your belly ripening just the way he likes it. He loves what his seed is doing to you just as much as you do. The bigger you get with his baby the more it turns him on as he can see the power he has over you. Making you swell out of your clothes. Turning your brain into mush. Making you crave his cock even more every day. Making you wish you could stay huge and pregnant with his babies forever. Once you’ve been bred and carried his baby it’s over. You’re going to be begging for him to do it all over again. But you won’t have to. True breeder daddies are more than happy to keep their woman full of their big healthy babies. You’ve got years of growing and lactating and cum addled pregnancy brain ahead of you.
CW: brainwashing, sluttification, femsub, breast expansion, butt expansion, transformation, coffee
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Petra had expected a quiet afternoon and a cup of coffee.
Instead, she found herself hesitating in the doorway of Cadence's café, wondering if she had somehow come to the wrong place. The small bell above the door chimed just as she remembered, and the scent of fresh pastries still hung warmly in the air, but everything else felt different.
Mostly, it was the crowd.
The place had always done well, but never like this. Every table was occupied. Conversations overlapped into a constant murmur, broken by laughter that sounded a little too loud and a little too eager. Petra spotted groups of men who clearly hadn't come for the coffee, their attention wandering far more than their drinks.
Cadence had told her business was improving. She had talked about it constantly the past week, her excitement almost contagious. Petra had been genuinely happy for her.
But this?
This felt less like success and more like something had taken over.
Petra slowly made her way to her usual table near the wall, though it barely felt like hers anymore. The comfortable familiarity she loved: a soft background of conversations, the relaxing atmosphere and the illusion of being in a safe little corner of the world; had been replaced by something louder and harder to define.
Her attention drifted when she noticed where several customers were looking.
Or rather, who they were looking at.
Petra followed their gazes and felt her breath catch.
She recognized one of the waitresses. A literature student who had sometimes chatted with Petra about novels while refilling her coffee. Quiet, shy, always styling the sensible uniform to hide her beauty.
At least, that was how Petra remembered her.
The young woman moving between the tables now looked like someone else entirely. Her uniform had changed into something far more theatrical than practical, a stylized maid outfit that seemed designed to draw attention rather than avoid it. It fit her in ways that almost didn't seem possible, her posture confident in a way Petra could not reconcile with the timid girl she remembered.
Most unsettling of all was her expression.
The bright smile never wavered. It didn’t seem forced exactly. It simply looked empty. Automatic. Like a mask she no longer realized she was wearing.
Petra felt a knot form in her stomach.
'What happened here?' she wondered.
So distracted by the strange transformation around her, Petra didn't notice someone approaching her table until a cheerful voice spoke right beside her.
"Welcome back," a familiar voice said warmly.
Petra looked up. Only to find her friend Cadence pressed into the same parody of an uniform.
And a pair of breasts jutting forward she knew weren't that big the last week. Cadence always had been on the large side but this felt extreme.
She smiled. The same empty smile that seemed to infect all her waitresses. Petra swallowed.
"Cadence," she managed to say. "You've changed something?"
"Business has grown!" she said excited. "Isn't it awesome!"
Petra looked around, seeing most women had grown too, if the size of their breasts were any indicator.
"And you got new uniforms?" Petra asked.
"Sure. Growing business needs to be shown off." Cadence's voice had a slight, melodic tone that caught Petra's attention. She wasn't sure why. It didn't seem strange at all. But there was something alluring about the sound.
Or maybe that was just Cadence herself?
Her friend's looks seemed even more rediculous under closer inspection. The uniform clung to her curves like a second skin, accenting the round swell of her impossibly large breasts and voluminous hips. The waist in-between those clinched together into a surreal dimension.
It was almost comical. And yet, it didn't feel comical. Somehow, it just looked natural. Right.
Just like the acidic aroma of the coffee mixing with the sweetness of milk. It was almost overwhelming. Petra wondered how she had ever been able to ignore it before.
It smelled delicious, tantalizing even.
"Petra? Hey Petra. I know my boobs are great. The greatest even. But do you want a coffee? I guarantee a new size in every cup." Cadence winked at her friend. Or at least Petra supposed she did, the large boobs seemed to have attracted most attention.
"Yes," Petra said. "Sure. I mean. Yes. Please. A coffee would be nice. Coffee, please. Thank you." Her words seemed to stumble over her tongue, the simple sentence taking an embarrassing amount of effort. Her heart pounded.
The air felt charged. Static. As if every moment held some strange anticipation.
"Coming right up! You take yours with a lot of milk, right? Of course you do. Boobs love milk," Cadence replied cheerfully. Her smile didn't seem so strange now. It just looked happy. Enthusiastic.
Excited.
Petra shook her head. What had she been thinking. Nothing here had changed. It just had gotten a little busier than before and Cadence's uniform was cute.
And the scent. She breathed in deeply. She couldn't wait for the taste of that delicious coffee to wash over her tongue.
She smiled. Maybe she should get some cake along with it. Something creamy. That would be nice.
When Cadence returned with a cup of coffee, her large breasts bounced with each step, the flesh seeming to defy gravity as they moved. Petra's eyes locked onto the sight. She imagined them sloshing. It looked as if they could break free of the flimsy costume any moment, bursting out to spill their full, voluptuous form across the room.
Petra's heart skipped a beat at the idea.
She felt her pulse quicken as she watched Cadence approach, unable to tear her gaze away from the mesmerizing sight. She licked her lips unconsciously, suddenly feeling how thirsty she was.
"Enjoy," Cadence said cheerfully as she set the cup on the table in front of her. Her smile widened as she added. "Don't worry about paying right away. Just let me know when you're done, and we can work out the details. And don't be shy about refills. A new size in every cup. It's what everyone needs."
Petra nodded. Her throat felt strangely tight as she tried to find words. Her thoughts seemed scattered, pulled in too many directions at once. "I, um, sure, yeah."
"Great. Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with." Cadence gave a little wave before turning away. The movement caused her breasts to sway in a way that drew Petra's eye once again.
Petra couldn't help but stare after her. Her friend's hips rolled, the flimsy skirt rose. Petra caught a glimpse of the creamy white flesh. It looked so smooth. So inviting.
Petra felt something stir within her.
A warmth spread across her cheeks. A growing hunger that seemed almost desperate in its need.
She took the cup, trying to drown the fires in her belly. The creamy liquid flowed into her mouth. And hit her tongue.
A moan escaped Petra as droplets hit her taste buds.
Creamy, sweet, hot, rich. Delicious beyond words, Petra's eyes fluttered close as the flavor overwhelmed her. She drank more, letting it flow over her tongue. She felt her heart beat faster. Her breath quickened.
This was good. Better than anything she'd tasted before. Better than chocolate or strawberries or even wine.
This was perfection.
Her fingers curled around the cup.
"Enjoying the coffee?" Cadence's voice broke through the haze of Petra's desire. Petra looked up to find Cadence leaning over the table, watching her intently, her eyes glittering with emptiness.
"It's incredible," Petra managed to say, her voice trembling slightly. She couldn't seem to stop the rush of emotion pouring through her.
"I'm glad. A new size in every cup. Want another?" Cadence smiled knowingly.
"Yes!" Petra answered immediately, without thinking.
Cadence refilled her cup.
Petra watched her friend's boobs undulate as she poured more coffee into Petra's cup, her nipples straining against the thin fabric. She imagined them swaying back and forth hypnotically. The idea made Petra's skin tingle with anticipation.
The smell alone sent another jolt of heat straight down to her core. Petra inhaled deeply. Her eyes fluttering closed as she breathed deeply of the aroma wafting up from the steaming cup of coffee. The scent seemed to penetrate deep into her mind.
Her chest tightened. Her pulse quickened even faster.
She drank, letting the warmth spread throughout her body as she swallowed. The heat built within her.
Her nipples hardened as they pressed against the inside of her blouse. Her panties felt wet and slick against her thighs. Petra squeezed them together tightly. She moaned again.
She opened her eyes to find her friend staring at her.
"What?" Petra asked breathlessly, unable to meet Cadence's gaze. Her face flushed hotter than ever.
"You love our special coffee. You can't get enough of it. You need another refill." Cadence said cheerfully, her eyes still empty. Her words sounded scripted. As if she was repeating someone else's lines. Her lips moved but her eyes didn't change. They remained fixed upon Petra.
"Yes." Petra heard herself reply without hesitation.
"Yes," she repeated again. "A new size in every cup. Give me a bigger cup." The words felt right. She needed it now. It was important.
"A new size in every cup," Cadence agreed eagerly.
"Yes," Petra said again. "I need more. I want a new size. I need a new size." Petra's words grew frantic, her voice rising in pitch. "Please, please. Give me a new size!" Petra pleaded desperately.
"Yes." Cadence's tone matched her friend's enthusiasm. "Of course! A new size in every cup." Her boobs bounced up and down in rhythm to the chant as she refilled Petra's cup.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Petra cried out, her body shaking with need. "More, more, more! New size! Every cup!" She drank greedily from the steaming mug.
The heat nothing in comparison to the boiling lust burning in her veins.
She felt something move inside her.
Her body shuddered as the warmth filled her belly. Petra moaned, arching her back as a wave of pleasure washed over her.
She looked down at them and saw the twin peaks protruding beneath her blouse, the thin material stretched taut over their rounded shape. Her nipples ached painfully, her chest swelling outward with each beat of her racing heart.
Her eyes grew wide. That was impossible.
She cupped one of her breasts, lifting its weight gently, feeling how full it felt beneath her fingertips.
A new size in every cup, Cadence's words echoed in her mind.
She gasped softly as another spasm rocked her body, a tremor that sent a jolt of ecstasy through her core. Her thighs rubbed together in search for unreachable release.
Petra could hardly breathe. Her lungs seemed to fill with thick, sweet liquid as the pleasure mounted within her.
She looked up at her friend, who still stood nearby. Her expression hadn't changed. Her smile remained empty, her eyes vacant.
"Do you want another cup of coffee?" Cadence asked brightly. "Of course you do. A new size in every cup!"
Petra nodded frantically.
"Please," she gasped, clutching her breast tightly to her chest. Her nipple throbbed against her palm, the sensitive nub. The sensation caused her entire body to shudder in anticipation.
Cadence poured more coffee into her cup, filling it almost to the brim before setting the pot down on the table.
"Drink," she ordered, her tone cheerful and empty.
Petra obeyed without question.
The heat spread through her body once again. She felt her insides shift and expand, her belly growing flatter with each sip of the rich liquid. Her breasts strained against the confines of her blouse, the buttons threatening to pop free at any moment.
Petra's thoughts ran in circles. She knew that this should be impossible. But every time she reached that conclusion the intoxicating aroma and mind-melting sweetness eroded her rationality.
And the more her breasts grew the more they felt good. Her body pulsed and ached in need.
It felt too good to resist. It felt natural.
A new size in every cup. That sounded so true.
Her hips widened to accommodate the sudden growth of her bust, the fabric of her jeans tightening painfully around her waist. She whimpered in discomfort as her panties pressed tightly against her skin, the material rubbing against her sensitive folds. Petra could barely contain the urge to slip her hand beneath her skirt and stroke herself. The desire burned within her.
She wanted it so badly.
The coffee seemed to boil in her belly. She imagined it flowing into her veins, mixing with her blood, infusing every part of her body.
Her nipples ached, her clit throbbing insistently as her sex grew wetter and wetter.
Her breasts grew larger. Petra's breathing grew ragged as the pleasure built within her.
She moaned without restraint.
She needed to touch herself, needed release.
It didn't matter how big her breasts grew or how tight her clothes became. Nothing else mattered.
She just needed relief.
She lifted the cup and took a deep, desperate drink of the hot coffee.
It flowed down her throat, filling her stomach, boiling her individuality.
Dimly she heard whistles and hoots in the background. But everything felt pale and unimportant.
Nothing mattered but the coffee and the growing pleasure between her legs. And in her expanding breasts. The shrinking waist. Ballooning hips and butt.
A button flew from her blouse. A rip echoed. Her jeans loosened around the waist while pressing tightly into her thighs. Her boobs spilled from the blouse, bouncing as her bra gave in. They were big. Really big.
But a new size in every cup. And Petra needed to be bigger. It was the only thing she needed. She drank and her boobs expanded. Her thighs rubbed together, sending a shock of pure electricity racing through her body as the wetness soaked through her panties. Petra could no longer contain herself. She plunged a finger between her legs, finding the swollen nub of her clitoris.
The cheerful, artificial tone of Cadence reached her melting mush of attention.
"Oops. Seems like you had some wardrobe accidents," her friend giggled. "Why don't you come to the back room. I have the perfect fit for your new size!"
"Yes," Petra gasped. She stood up. Her breasts bounced, the heavy weight of them pulling on her shoulders, her nipples rubbing deliciously against the thin material of her blouse as she moved. She followed her friend through the crowd of patrons, their gazes raking over her voluptuous figure as she passed by.
The sound of their whispers filled her ears.
Her skin prickled as they admired her, the attention heightening the need within her. Petra's hips swayed with each step, her thighs quivering as she walked.
She followed Cadence to the back room, the door swinging shut behind them with a soft click.
Petra looked around.
She saw racks of costumes and a mirror. Everything was neat and clean. A stack of boxes stood beside the rack, the cardboard labeled with names and numbers.
Petra felt a rush of heat flood her face as her friend turned to her.
"You look good!" Cadence chirped, the smile empty and the tone hollow. Her boobs jiggled. "But I think we need to improve your wardrobe. And fill that head with the company issued slogans."
Petra felt the world spin around her.
She couldn't think straight anymore, the fog in her head growing thicker with every breath she took. The heat between her legs had become unbearable.
All she wanted was to touch herself. To feel that delicious friction again. Her pussy ached, her nipples hard as pebbles.
The coffee burned within her. Her breasts throbbed, her waist cinching even tighter as she stood there. Petra felt the heat radiate off her body, her skin glistening with sweat.
"Come sit down and watch our new and improved introduction video," Cadence told her happily. She grabbed her arm and pulled her forward toward a large chair positioned directly in front of a television screen. Cadence pushed her into the chair. Petra sat, her thighs parted slightly to allow access to the wet heat of her sex.
"I need to. I need a new size in every cup." Petra murmured as she watched Cadence turn on the TV.
"Shush. Just listen and watch," Cadence giggled, the tone so empty. She bounced on her heels as the video started.
A soothing, melodious tune began playing over the speakers, accompanied by a series of flashing images that danced across the screen.
Petra felt her pussy weep. Her nipples ached.
A voice spoke, soothing and pleasant. Feminine.
"Welcome to Cadence's Café," it said.
"A new subsidiary of Bigger Boobs Incorporated. We hope you will enjoy working with us and find our training video informative and helpful."
Petra felt her lips part, her tongue tracing her lower lip as she listened to the woman on screen speak.
"Cadence's Café provides its customers with high quality service," she continued, her words accompanied by images of smiling women wearing the same uniform as Cadence had been, the outfits accentuating every curve and crevice of their voluptuous figures. Their breasts strained against the fabric, their hips swaying seductively as they walked through a room full of men, their eyes roaming over their bodies hungrily. A bent over waitress had her head down in one costumer's lap. Her lips obviously at work. While another slapped and groped her round revealed cheeks.
"As a waitress at Cadence's you will provide this same service to our customers." The image changed to show a woman standing in front of a group of male patrons, her breasts exposed, her nipples standing erect. She held a tray in one hand, the other reaching out to caress a man's shaft. The man moaned in pleasure, his hips bucking upwards to meet her touch. His eyes rolled back into his head, his mouth gaping open. His expression slack and vacant. His cock twitched in her grasp. It swelled, thickening, pulsating. Petra watched it grow longer, thicker. The woman pumped him harder. She smiled as she worked, her eyes never leaving his face.
"This is your primary function as a waitress. You will serve our customers, making sure that they are completely satisfied."
Petra felt her pussy quiver, her clit throbbing. She slipped a finger between her thighs, rubbing herself slowly.
She needed this so badly. Her pussy wept for attention.
"To achieve this goal you must learn to suppress your own needs and desires." The woman's words seemed to resonate inside Petra's mind, echoing in her ears.
"Your body belongs to your customers."
The woman continued to stroke the man's member, her fingers wrapping tightly around his length, squeezing and tugging on it.
The woman's breasts bounced with every movement. She licked her lips. She moaned.
Her pussy wept.
Petra rubbed herself, her fingers gliding across her wet slit.
"Yes," she whimpered.
"You must always keep in mind that your customers come first. That they have needs, and that it is your job to fulfill those needs."
Petra gasped as her fingers slipped inside of herself, her hips rising from the seat of the chair.
"Yes!" she cried out, the heat within her building to a crescendo.
She felt her inner muscles clench, her walls contracting as she fucked herself, her juices dripping onto her fingers.
And as the cock on the screen exploded with a fountain of cum, Petra did too.
Her body arched upwards, her back lifting off of the chair, her legs spreading wide apart. She screamed. A wordless howl of ecstasy that tore from her throat. The pleasure crashed through her. Waves of it, pounding against her mind, drowning everything else in its wake. Petra felt herself shatter. She came apart at the seams.
Her body quaked. She collapsed back into the chair, her limbs weak and shaking. She panted. She whimpered.
Her head lolled back against the soft cushion of the seat.
She could hear her heartbeat thudding loudly in her chest.
The scene on the screen had changed to a familiar scenario. The same waitress was now refilling the cup of coffee for a woman.
"Remember," said the soothing, feminine voice of the video narrator, "A new size in every cup is our most important service here at Cadence's Café."
Petra heard her own breath catch. She nodded.
Her pussy throbbed in agreement. The heat within her burned hotter. More intense.
"Unfortunately the new cups are attached to willfully ignorant woman. It is your job to fill their cups. So the new size can take control." The soothing narrator's voice sounded so melodic. Her voice echoed within Petra's mind, reverberating within her head, filling every crevice.
The scene shifted again. Now it showed a group of waitresses sitting together at a small table, chatting animatedly as they sipped from their drinks, their uniforms clinging to their ample figures. Their breasts strained against their tops, their hips swaying back and forth as they giggled amongst themselves.
"This is your primary duty. Once your cup is filled you will serve others," said the voice. "You will be another asset of the company. Nothing more. You are not an individual anymore. You belong to Cadence's Café and Bigger Boobs Inc. Any thought that doesn't belong to one of these is false. It is wrong."
Petra's head bobbed in a jerky motion. Her eyes were glassy, staring straight ahead. She nodded slowly. She had to serve. She had to fill cups. To give a new size to any pair of boobs she could find. She had to. There was nothing else.
"This is who you are now," said the soothing voice. "This is what you were born for. What you were made for."
The scene changed again. This time showing a single waitress standing in front of a full-length mirror, her uniform hugging her curvaceous body.
"To carry a magnificent pair of boobs." The narrator spoke softly. The waitress turned around, facing the camera directly.
Her expression blank. Empty.
"A new size in every cup." Petra's mouth moved in unison with the waitress on screen.
The video ended.
Petra slumped back into the chair, her body still trembling.
Cadence stood next to the chair, her breasts bouncing with each sway. She smiled.
"You ready to fill up those cups!" she asked.
Petra's lips twitched into a copy of her boss' smile. Empty and vacant.
She looked at Cadence with adoring eyes and nodded.
"Good!" she said, the tone empty and artificial, but Petra didn't notice. She didn't think at all.
"Let's get you into a uniform and start your new career as a pair of Big Boobs Incorporated big boobs!"
Penelope was once a very highly paid, high-profile corporate spy. A wicked woman who would steal from and corrupt a company from the inside. Someone pretty enough and wily enough to seduce anyone into telling her anything she wanted to know. She knew exactly how to play the part of the office's slutty little bimbo to perfection. All the men wanted, all the women were jealous of her. She truly took pleasure in seducing the witless and masterfully having everyone wrapped around her little finger.
Just a flash of cleavage and a promise of a blowjob got her critical files.
Then, she helped her true employers by blackmailing the company into the ground. But, as she left, head held high, smug smile on her lips, the CEO of ruined company gave her a panting gift: a bottle of sweet-smelling perfume they'd been developing.
As a victory lap to a job well done, Penelope sprayed herself with the sweet-smelling fruity perfume. Now, all Penelope can think of is cocks, sex, and orgasms. She knows she should stop, save what little brains she has left, but then she rolls her hips and the pleasure of humping and edging and cumming overwhelms her as she goons her brains away. All while her tits thicken and ripen, making her wider, rounder, and heavier with every mind-frying orgasm.
"Breast size has, as you can see," Amanda purred as she shook her tits free from her top. "Increased several cup sizes and definitely gotten more sensitive!" She quivered as she slapped her massive funbags together. "A~and all after just seconds of exposure to the Purple Light on the high intensity setting." She grinned as she teased her nipples.
Amanda shuffled her papers, moaning softly as she grazed her stiff nipples against her top. "I'd like to stress test the Purple Light as my readings show a decrease in neuro response alongside the overstimulation of my pleasure centres."
Brock just raised an eyebrow and smirked at his boss as he felt himself grow hard. "All I heard was that you want to turn the light to max volume and turn into a super-sized, fuck-hungry bimbo." There was a soft thump as his heaving cock battered against his desk. "And I, for one, am all for that option!"
"Good!" Amanda threw her blank sheets of paper over her shoulder. "Because all I can think about is your beast of a dick! It's the only thing I've been able to think about since your experiment." She shivered as she watched Brock stand, his muscles flexing and straining as a huge bulge ran down his thigh. "I want you to toss me into the test room, turn the Purple Light on until I am your perfect gigantic, swollen bimbo lover!" She quivered in lurid glee as Brock's belt snapped in half. "I can't wait to cum my fucking brains out on that monster of a cock!!"
"Well, what are we waiting for!?" Brock enthusiastically asked as he picked up Amanda, burying his face into her tits as he carried her to the test chamber.
The gym echoed with the panting grunts and mewling cries as a lone figure bounced up and down, mindlessly performing starjumps. Zoey's eyes were vacant, mouth agape as she sank deeper and deeper into the pink, hazy bliss of her asscheeks clapping and crashing together. All while feeling her grey shorts grow tighter and tighter as her ass swelled up with every jump.
"News Update. Those infected with Bounce Virus should stay still where they are, doctors report IQ loss, increased lust, and intense transformations." Zoey vaguely heard the news reporter on the TV above her, but didn't care.
"Got... got to get... fatter ass..." Zoey's voice was slurred as she felt her lips tingle, and her nipples beaded in her shirt. "Get... sexier... get.... fatter... virus good.... virus good!" Zoey squealed out as she felt her asscheeks immediately balloon, causing her ass to turn her shorts into a skin-tight thong. Then she felt her bra shudder and snap as her breasts doubled in size, and her lips thickened and gained a thick, glossy sheen.
But even as her mind was swallowed by a deep, neon-pink miasma as her pussy quivered and drooled with wanton desperation, Zoey didn't stop bouncing. Bigger... bigger... bigger... BIGGER!!! The ravenette thought as she moved faster and made her tits and ass bounce and clap harder to make her body expand and thicken up even more.
Especially since she barely remembered that the Men's soccer team was about to come into the gym and see her expand and orgasmically burst out of her clothes. And that thought excited her.
