Growth Opportunities

32M with a firm belief that bigger is always better. MDNI Asks are open!

[growth-opportunities]

She's a finance bro and everyone thought she was just getting bigger from her lifestyle but she inflates with her gains. One day she tries a risky penny stock and it explodes while she's distracted in a meeting.

Blair should have immediately recognized the pattern of the buzzes on her phone, but mind-numbing boredom distracted her. These meetings were never actually important. If anything, they were just a way for the C-suites to compete over the status of their team's portfolios, taking credit for gains and spreading blame for losses.

Despite being on the team for almost five years, Blair was still largely overlooked. She made consistent returns, which listed the bottom line of her firm, but she her focus on consistency rather than big payouts made sure that the spotlight never shone too brightly on her. Low-but-solid ROI did not investors attract. Her boss wouldn't even consider her proposal that the firm start looking into penny stocks. No amount of slideshows or white papers could convince them to sacrifice reward for risk. Feeling petty, Blair threw a few thousand bucks of her own into a penny stock, thinking that she could use her success to buoy her standing at the firm or, at the very least, make a little bit of cash. So far, she had just barely beaten the overall market, but, hey, a win is a win.

Slowly, the her palm slid up the side of her chin until her head dropped forward. Her whole body tensed as she sat up straight. Her adrenaline spiked. Her heart slammed in her chest. Her eyes darted around the room to see if anyone noticed anything. Her shirt felt tight.

Wait... what?

Still cautious about drawing any more attention to herself, Blair glanced down at her chest. A soft gasp pushed her chest forward, which in turn, pushed her breasts even further forward. The top button of her blouse slipped open and a deep line of cleavage revealed itself. In the purse on her lap, Blair's phone rang out the two-one-two pattern in vibrations to notify her of a price update, but her chest wouldn't let her look away. For a moment, she held her breath. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. Slowly, surely, she could see her breasts expanding.

"Holy shit!"

"Yes, Miss Bellinger?"

Her head snapped to attention only to find the whole room looking at her. Mr. Lewis at the head of the room glared at her and she slowly shook her head. Between her embarrassment and the pressure on her chest, her words stammered out of her. "S-sorry, I just—"

Her boss held up his hand. "No excuses, Miss Bellinger. See me in my office as soon as we're done here. Now, as I was saying..."

Just as Blair was trying to sink into the floor, her phone buzzed once again. This time, Blair felt the growth. Her breasts surged forward. The next button couldn't handle the pressure and snapped clean off. Clattering on the table in front of her brought the room's attention back in her direction, frustration and annoyance melting away to shock as they watched her breasts bulge out of her bra and spill out of her top. Mr. Lewis managed to still be indignant, despite her display.

"Miss Bellinger! That is quite enough! If you think you can avoid discipline with me using such a lurid display, perhaps this isn't—"

Blair shook her head. "No, no, no, this isn't... I'm not doing this on purpose, I don't know— Ooohhnnn~!"

Another buzz and her breasts grew again, this time sending pleasure arcing through her body. The room broke out in gasps as they realized what was happening. They all watched, some in horror but most in rapt, aroused attention, as Blair's breasts pushed their way out of her top, inch by inch, button by button. Another buzz and her breasts nearly doubled in size! Flesh ran over the cups until they couldn't hold anymore. The whole room jumped at the sound of her clasp breaking and the rest of the buttons following shortly after. A final buzz nearly pulled Blair off of her feet, her body lurching forward, catching herself on the table with her hands as her breasts spilled over the edge.

"That is quite enough!"

Mr. Lewis looked as if he was about to explode, moments away from a steam whistle ringing out with cartoon smoke billowing from his ears. "You have made a mockery of this meeting and have behaved entirely inappropriately! I knew hiring you was a bad idea and now I've been proven correct! I'm sure HR will bear me out... Miss Bellinger, are you listening to me!?"

In truth, Blair hadn't heard a word her boss had said. She finally looked at her phone. The latest text was a simple message:

BBGB $8.73 - ↑ 12,471.42% last 24hrs

Blair was running through the math in her head. A $10,000 investment at four cents per share, now worth $8.73 a pop meant that she had...

For a moment, her body froze. The number seemed too big for her to wrap her head around. Slowly, her lips curled into a smile. She shot upright so quickly that the momentum of her new breasts nearly pulled her off her feet, but that just made her giddier. She looked to her boss. Her smile widened just as she flashed the wrinkled bastard both middle fingers.

"Fire me if you want! I'm fucking rich!"

Her now former coworkers cleared a wide path for her to rush out the door. The important things, she already had in her purse. Everything else, she'd be able to buy new. Her only concern was getting home before the next price update, while she could still fit her tits through the front door! She chuckled to herself as she passed through the lobby. If she couldn't fit, well, she'd just have to buy a new place that could!

[growth-opportunities]

Hello :D Been a long time fan of your work and was wondering what you could do for a subby boy who wants to be a milky busty dummy. All bouncy and cute for my dom to squeeze <3 Big booty to jiggles like happy dog tail and a stretchy belly able to fit all of daddy's cum. Just a big soft cuddle toy for him to love. <3

Aww, it's so sweet that you want to become the perfect, soft boy for your owner! He's going to be so proud of you once you get the big, jiggly body you desire.

The changes won't just happen on their own, though! Your dom has to earn his plush puppy.

All he has to do is keep domming you, keep owning you, keep reminding you of your place and the rest will follow. Every time his thighs slap against your ass until he blows his load deep inside you, your ass will get just a little bigger and your tummy just a little softer. Every time he has you kneeling under his desk, his cock between your lips, your chest will get just a little fuller. The changes might be subtle enough that he might not notice right away, but they add up quickly and the changes start to compound.

As your pecs swell into budding breasts and your ass grows into round, wobbling cheeks, it gives him more ways for him to dominate you.

He doesn't just have to cum down your throat when he can knead your tits in public, teasing your nipples until you admit that you belong to him. He doesn't have to just fuck your ass when he can smack it and make it wobble or force you in tight, feminine clothing to show off your wide, round backside.

As the pleasure of surrender makes you bigger, it'll make your brain smaller. Spending the whole day owned and dominated means that you have fewer and fewer decisions to make on your own and, faster than you might think, your mind will atrophy away. Anything you don't understand, you'll look to him. Any time you're asked a question, you'll lean on him to answer for you. You love being owned by him, no matter what it does to your mind or your body, and he loves owning such a soft, obedient puppy.

If he takes good care of you, you'll get the kind of body you need to take care of him. You won't remember your own name, let alone a time when you didn't have a juicy ass and full, milky udders, but that's okay. You don't have to remember things. That's what your dom is for!

[growth-opportunities]

Getting confronted by your group chat of online queer friends, who, surprisingly, all experienced some strange form of growth or size transformation. Chest for one, hips another, tummy a third, height, bulge, etc, with all of them experiencing a sizable amount of growth- and they just *know* you had something to do with it. You can't tell if they're mad, disgusted, annoyed, or if they enjoy it. Who even knows if THEY know how they feel...

-long time lurker and reader, first time asker :3

In the end, they weren't even mad. They had been, at one point, just as they had at various points been excited and worried and aroused and confused and frustrated, emotions occasionally overlapping.

Eve had been elated to finally get the breasts that estrogen had failed to deliver after so many years, but they quickly grew much bigger than she could have ever anticipated. The pride of being a trans woman and having bigger tits than anything that most bra stores stocked could contain was tempered by the frustration of buying custom bras, only to have outgrown them by the time they arrived. The number of "Sir"s she heard in a day plummeted, but at the cost of having every single person she met look directly at her cleavage instead of anywhere else.

Having his tdick grow so big that his bulge outsized his packer was one of the best moments of Reed's life! He got to experience that euphoria again, when he would sit down to stroke its impressive length. And again. And again. And again. The sensitivity was far beyond anything he had been prepared to handle and it wasn't long before he slipped into a life of edging and gooning and stroking his clitcock. Just his boxers clinging to it or accidentally brushing his bulge against someone or something was enough to send him running for the bathroom, panting and moaning and stroking in the stall. He loved it, but it loved him a little too much.

Mallory loved her full, sensual lips, but lisping her way through work meetings made it difficult to be taken seriously, especially when she spent the intervening time sucking on pens and lollipops and even her own thumb. Erin loved her girlfriend's lips, too, and they paired nicely with Erin's expanded ass during their intimate moments. Ripping out of her leggings every time Erin squatted at the gym, not to mention having to turn sideways to squeeze through narrow doors, was significantly less exciting.

All of those swirling emotions came to a head when they suddenly realized that, while they had all been growing, I had not. That, combined with my doctoral thesis on body modification and gene therapy, made the answer of what happened to them pretty obvious. After talking with each other about it, they eventually came to the conclusion that they weren't nearly as upset as they had been at first. There were drawbacks, certainly, but they believed the benefits outweighed them. I should have talked to them first, which I fully agreed to, and that seemed like the end of that. Except for one minor detail. It was unfair, they felt, that I was the only one not growing, and it would level the playing field if I got the same treatment. There was only one problem. They were completely unaware of it happening to them, but I had developed the treatment myself. I knew everything that could happen. The solution, then, was not to vary the treatments, but the dose.

Now we're all quite the happy bunch! I got Erin's ass in spades, outgrowing even her along with massive, tree-trunk thighs. A part of me wished I had gotten more of Eve's tits, just to balance myself out, but I couldn't complain about the way my pussy had swollen between my legs, a side effect of Avery's treatment. With Erin's blessing, I was even allowed to put my new lips to use, making out with Mallory who just barely outsized me. Erin insisted it was a one-time thing, but I have a feeling that, with these bodies, we're going to be getting a lot closer. A lot closer.

[growth-opportunities]

Can we please get a fic about a misogynistic guy being forced into a hucow transformation along with a heavy pregnancy?

Just a breeder!

That's what Steven had said. To him, it was true. That's what all women were. They were just breeders, just vessels for carrying the children of men. That's what they were good for, what they were designed for, and everything they do should be in service towards that singular goal. Steven was not shy about his opinions. As far as he was concerned, they weren't opinions at all, but rather scientific fact, engraved into the very nature of the universe and embedded into their biology, no different than telling someone that their eyes were blue or describing how tall they were. Some women were less than pleased in hearing his 'truth', but Steven simply saw that as further proof of his theories. Clearly, they were simply unhappy that they hadn't yet been bred and this discomfort was from being confronted with the fact that they were pushing in the opposite direction of where their destiny truly lay. A denial of their worth as breeders was what was making them upset.

Of all women, Steven thought that his new neighbor would share in his beliefs. She was a woman of science, after all! If anyone could see the unshakable foundation of his beliefs, the evolutionary root that cemented his thoughts as reality, it would be her. She didn't seem taken aback or shocked at all when he said that her scientific studies were appreciated, but that she'd be so much happier letting a man take over and becoming 'just a breeder'. This, of course, only encouraged him and she sat there, patiently nodding, while he let his whole view on women tumble out of him. Nobody, especially not a woman, had ever let him talk that long and it felt good to finally get it off his chest and share it with someone who clearly understood him.

Two months later, Jen looked down at what used to be Steven and admired her handiwork. Nearly every last bit of masculinity had been drained out of him. His arms had become slender and soft while his thighs thickened, all signs that he had previously pointed to as proof of a woman's inadequacy. Jen smiled at the breasts, heavy and full, that hung from his chest. Dark nipples quivered and leaked, rivulets of milk running along the curve of his breasts before dripping onto the floor beneath him. What pleased Jen most, though, was Stevens belly. The formerly flat, masculine stomach was gone. Not an inch of it remained. Instead, it bowed out in front of him, stretched and full, heavy and round. Already, he looked several months along in his pregnancy, but she knew there was more to come. Jen could already see the beginnings of stretchmarks starting to form on his rounded middle. Steven took to the procedure better than any of Jen's previous test subjects and she couldn't be more proud of his progress.

One of Jen's long, slender hands wove through Steven's long hair and grabbed ahold of it, tilting his head back. His eyes were hazy and could barely concentrate, his jaw hanging open. Jen tutted, dripping with condescension. "Who's just a breeder now, Steven? You're more of a breeder now than I ever was. Don't worry, though. I'll make sure that you won't squander your destiny."

[growth-opportunities]

You know what's weird? The cock growth humiliation is hot, but at the same time, cock worship is also hot. I can't help but get excited about growing unreasonably huge and getting told how useless I've become, and also about having someone be unashamedly into it and loving my size and encouraging it. Especially one after the other; being dismissed by one partner, only to find someone who really appreciates what you have.

"Come on, dude! You can't just say something like that! If you say something so out of pocket like 'My girlfriend broke up with me because my dick grew so huge', of course I'm gonna need fucking proof! No way my best bud is swinging that much meat. Just, y'know, get it out! It's just us here. We've been friends for so long, it's almost weirder that I haven't seen it yet. You want me to help? Because I can— haha, alright, it's all you, bud! Show me this impossibly huge schlong of...

"...Holy shit...

"...Holy fucking shit...

"That thing has to be the size of my forearm and— That's soft??? Are you fucking kidding me? Well, fuck, the least I can do is show a little cleavage and maybe we can fix that. Don't think I haven't caught you staring. You've been stealing glances as my boobs since they first grew in. Now I'm encouraging you to look at my boobies, my titties, my massive milky—

"Uunnf, fuck, that twitch made my heart skip a beat! God, Jessica really broke up with you over this beautiful thing? How could she call it useless and pathetic and painful to look at when it's so... so... magnificent! She's right that it's not gonna fit in any holes, but getting turned off from that just means she lacks imagination. And tits big enough to wrap around it. Not me, though...

"You know, I never really understood why you started dating her... I mean, I was right here the whole time. We've been friends for ever and I know you were attracted to me, but I guess Jessica—that fucking bitch—just beat me to the punch. Whatever, we don't have to worry about that now. Now that I've gotten that bitch out of the way, I can show you how someone properly handles a cock that—

"Hm?

"Out of the way? I don't, uh...

"Okay, so... Don't be mad... But I kinda, maybe, sorta slipped ground up a few bottles of growth pills and mixed them into your pre-workout powder. I, uh, might have been a bit heavy handed since I didn't know the dose. I just wanted to help you gain some confidence! Confidence enough to break up with that bitch! She made you miserable! At a party a couple months ago, she was pretty drunk and told me what she thought about various 'sizes' and I knew I could two-birds-one-stone this whole thing! You're not seriously mad, are you? First of all, now you have this titanic pillar of a cock that would double the average size of any room you walked into. So, y'know, you're welcome! And, fuck, now that Jessica is gone, you can be with someone who really appreciates it! I want to memorize it. I want to know every last inch of it, map out every winding vein. I want to taste it, rub it, squeeze it, wrap my body around it as best I can. I want to live off of your precum and fucking drown in the ocean of ballsnot that you'll shoot over my massive fucking tits. I can't get enough of it. It's huge. It's thick. It's fucking gorgeous. I promise, dude, you're going to love being my boyfriend a lot more than when you were with her. She's in the past. Now you've got this gift and I'm the only one who can handle it. We're stuck together, bro. Might as well relax and let me empty those huge, churning, backed-up balls of yours, right?"

[growth-opportunities]

Third person cis!female forced/unwanted ass expansion and my life is yours

Sincerely, an amab!lesbian

"Unf! Fuck! Please! Stop... fucking... growing!"

Daisy yanked on her leggings as hard as she could but it refused to budge. Her ass, massive and round and still growing, simply couldn't be covered. Every time she got close, they'd surge in size, swelling even larger and denying any chance that she'd be able to hide the huge, wobbling spheres sticking out behind her.

Under her breath, Daisy cursed that goth bitch at the gym. That pale, jealous skank. Daisy had every right to tell her off for getting in the way of her phone camera! If she lacked that kind of awareness, she shouldn't have been in public at all! Obviously, she interrupted the filming because she was jealous of Daisy's figure—Daisy's toned and firm ass in particular—and Daisy made her astute observation known. Clearly, the dark-haired slut was just too stunned at being called out for the truth to respond properly. Her only retort was that she hoped Daisy got the body she wanted before walking off. The comeback seemed weak and Daisy had claimed triumph. At least, that's what she thought until she woke up this morning to find that the tight, pert butt she had worked so hard to achieve had been replaced by these growing globes of jiggling, bouncing fat!

The only solution that Daisy could think of was to go back to the gym, but none of her gym clothes would fit! Her shorts wouldn't fit over her fat ass and the pants that did barely made it a few steps before the seams surrendered and split wide open, soft flesh bulging out of the new openings. These leggings were all she had left and, with each passing second, getting them over her gigantic backside was become more and more futile.

With a huff, she let go, yelping as the elastic snapped back against her colossal butt. The impact rippled out across the soft mounds in a way that nearly made Daisy gag. Hot tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she pictured herself back at the gym, all eyes on her as her enormous ass wobbled up the stairclimber, everyone gawking at her with every pants-ruining squat. In frustration, she reached behind her and angrily smacked her ass, which only made the problem worse. She'd have to hope that one of her dresses was tent-like enough to fit over her wide hips and then hope that the bitch who put a spell on her would be there. If she wasn't... well, then she'd just have to hope that the doors to the gym were wide enough to let her out...

[growth-opportunities]

Could you write about a convent of nuns that have turned toward hucowification to better serve their communities but still somehow maintain their dignity?maybe they find the pleasure to be godly? Or maybe some sisters are more blessed than others when some sort of new divine ritual is used to affirm the faith and ascend/descend to a different level or awakening and understanding of pleasure. Maybe some lose themselves and are still held to a position of honor for their sacrifice

Like so many before you, you turned to the convent when you had nowhere else to go and the nuns at Our Lady of Perpetual Nourishment took you in without question. They offered you a home, food, a community. You quickly came to learn that this was a core tenet of their belief: that, as God in heaven provides for us, so are we to provide for each other. Through this support, this sharing, this nourishment, we share in the divine spirit on Earth.

You didn't really care much about faith. All you needed to convince you to smile and nod along was a bed to sleep on and food in your belly, but goodness what food it was. Each meal was a rich bounty, decadent and filling. Cream for your coffee, milk for your cereal, sumptuous cheeses and biscuits with butter. Dinners were coated in thick, heavy sauces that clung to your tongue and kept you satisfied through the next morning. Once a week, on the sabbath day, there were cream puffs and pastries and desserts of all kinds, even ice cream. Guilt gnawed at the edge of your mind, taking advantage of them like this, but having a full belly for the first time in so long made it easy to swallow their gifts with gratitude.

What is faith, though, without doubt.

Once you realized that you'd be eating like this for every meal, you started to wonder about the nuns that flitted through the cloisters and sat in penance and prayer in the church. Their indulgence struck you as odd, going against everything you thought you knew about their religion, but you dismissed the concern, chalking it up to a quirk of their particular sect. In addition, one would expect, eating such richness day after day, that the nuns would become plump and round, but none of them were. At least, none of them were fat in the way you expected. While their tunics did a decent job of disguising their figures, one common trend stuck out to you: their tits were huge! Every last nun was ridiculously busty; even the smallest sister had to be at least a J cup and the Mother Superior lived up to her title in that regard as well. Walking alongside her was dangerous, not so much at risk of being hit by her swinging breasts but being distracted enough by their bouncing and wobbling and sloshing as to lead you directly into a concrete pillar. There was a part of you—nearly flat as you were—that hoped it was a result of their unique diet and the growing tightness in your bras and shirts seemed to suggest that was the case. Either way, clearly the women of this convent had been blessed.

As days turned to weeks, one more thing started to pique your curiosity. In addition to the lavish church, there was a small chapel in a far corner of the convent grounds. You had been told that it was a place for prayer that was dedicated and focused and, most of all, private. Occasionally, however, you'd see a few nuns go in together and you wouldn't see them again for the rest of the day, only returning for breakfast the next morning. The fact that you had free roam of the convent with the exception of the chapel just made you that much more curious. What was in there? What were the nuns hiding?

A full month into your stay, you found out.

You spent a day or so watching nuns come and go, mapping out patterns, essentially casing the joint. A set of lockpicks burned in your back pocket as you planned your entry. You didn't think it was locked but better to have and not need, than need and not have.

In the dark, evening hour, you stood at the door to the chapel. Sweat trickled down the side of your head as you reached for the door. Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough to drown out the sounds of footsteps approaching.

"Ah, just the person I wanted to see."

You nearly leapt into the air, held down by the hand of the Mother Superior resting firmly on your shoulder. Embarrassment flared in your cheeks and stammered excuses tumbled out of your mouth and into a pathetic heap at your feet. The Mother Superior's smile never faltered.

"Easy, my child. Breathe deep. Curiosity is natural and you've done well respecting our customs. In fact, I was planning to show you the chapel tomorrow, so your timing is remarkable. Come. Let me show you what's inside."

Still holding your shoulder, the Mother Superior reached forward and turned the doorknob, pushing open—

"AAAAAAHHHNNN!"

A lewd moan burst from the open doors, making you jump all over again, but the Mother Superior took no surprise in this new sound. If anything, she seemed satisfied, smiling wider and breathing out a proud sigh. Candlelight flickered as the door opened fully. Your eyes went wide. Your body froze. Despite yourself, your nipples stiffened.

The sound had come from Sister Grace, whose eyes were half-lidded and rolled back in her head. Her jaw hung loose and drool, shining in the dim light, dripped down her chin. Sweat glistened on her bare skin. A metal bar just above her head made little clinking sounds as her restraints rattled against it, holding her hands aloft while she kneeled. The Mother Superior's enormous breasts pushed against your back. "Sister Grace is deep in prayer. You can get closer. She's not even aware that we're here."

Entranced, your legs carried you closer to the kneeling nun, close enough to get a better look at the pumps rhythmically tugging on Grace's nipples. Each moment of suction was met with another moan and pale liquid rushed down a pair of plastic tubes. At the far end of the tubes sat a large tank, a gauge on the side indicating it to be nearly three-quarters full. Grace's gargantuan bust, wobbling with her every movement, held your attention. They looked even larger without the thick tunic in the way and this was even after they'd been drained of so much milk.

Once again, the Mother Superior closed in on you, but this time, it wasn't enough to merely brush against you. Her arms came around you, a hand resting on your hip, the other spreading out over your stomach. Arousal dripped from the breath that rolled out of her.

"Perpetual Nourishment. To provide is divine. These are the foundation of our convent. And you can see here that our Grace is so good at providing."

As if on cue, Grace arched her back and bellowed out another moan. Her breasts shook and wobbled as her body spasmed and a fresh torrent of milk was pulled into the tank. The Mother Superior's hands started to move. The hand on your hip teased at the hem of your t-shirt while the other moved up to cup the budding breasts on your chest. Deep and sultry, her soft moan rolled over you like warm syrup, trapping you in her embrace. Your hips quivered.

"We welcomed you into our home. We protected you. We nourished you. We provided for you. And now it's your turn to provide for us."

The air was thick with the heady scent of sex with the sweetest hint of milk and that mixture made it hard to think. All you could do was let the Mother Superior slowly turn you towards a spot just opposite Grace. Another bar with another set of restraints and a cushion underneath sat empty, sat waiting. You tried to refuse, but Mother Superior guided you forward.

"I knew you were special from the moment you crossed our threshold. We take in strangers of all kinds, as is our command, but I knew that you would not be leaving. I couldn't let you leave. You're one of us. It was fate that you found us and destiny that you'd join us."

Resistance fled your body and, in its place, desire flared. You looked at Grace. You looked at the Mother Superior as she slowly peeled away your clothes until you were as naked as Grace. You wanted this. You wanted to belong. You wanted to make milk and to provide and to be so fucking busty. Acceptance burned away the last of your doubt and, in an instant, your senses came alive. Grace's moans turned to music. The cuffs as your wrists spread soothing coolness through your arms. A moment of apprehension flared inside you as the candles danced on the metal pumps that Mother Superior brought closer to your chest, glancing back and forth between Grace's udders and what could only generously be called your breasts. The Mother Superior's hand cupped your cheek and her divine warmth spread through you, calming you in an instant.

"You may not be able to Provide today, my child, but you will. This is the first step of a thousand in your journey towards the divine on Earth. All you need do is ask, and what you seek will be provided to you."

Air tickled over your breasts as she brought the suction cups closer, stoking embers of need in your core.

Then, all at once, they latched on.

Your vision went white. Angels sang in your head, only for divine harmonies to fade as you realized the sound was your own moaning. Each tug on your breasts sent pleasure careening through your body and dripping out between your legs. The Mother Superior smiled, moving to let you watch Grace and let Grace watch you. She rested a hand on each of your heads.

"Come, little ones.

"Let us pray."

[growth-opportunities]

Hey boss. I'm in a bit of a predicament. I'm living on my own for the first time, and I share my apartment with a roommate.

Now, that's not too bad. Lots of guys have roommates. But I doubt they're roommates with the hottest woman they've ever seen in their life.

Like, words cannot begin to describe her. She's got tits bigger than her head, an ass that seems to bend space, and legs that could turn a monk into a drooling mess.

Basically, she's super duper hot.

And again, most guys wouldn't see the issue in that. But they've never had to deal with every argument, disagreement, discussion, etc, ending in a wiggle of tit-flesh and me folding instantly.

I literally can't say no to her when she does that. I don't think anyone can.

What am I supposed to do, GO? I've been mad to do every chore, pay just about every bill, do every whim she can come up with.

I hear you, man. That's a tough situation. Most people, they'd tell you to stand up for yourself, to stop being such a pathetic loser gooner and resist her jiggling and sloshing pornmelons for five fucking seconds. They'd tell you that, if you have an open and honest conversation with her, one that doesn't end in you running back to your bedroom to try and get your fist pregnant, it'll all work out.

And I just want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that they're all wrong.

This kind of thing, standing up for yourself would only encourage her! Saying "H-hey, um, m-maybe don't flash your big, bouncy titties at m-me when I'm trying to t-talk to you!" is only going to make things worse! She'll start walking around the apartment topless, or as close to it as she has to, in order to make sure you never try to resist her again! She already knows she can break you—can't put that lotion back in the bottle—so she'll just keep going until she breaks you again.

If you really want to get control of this situation, there's only one thing you can do: fight fire with fire.

You go out there and you get yourself the biggest fucking tits you can. Implants or growth pills or bovine hormones, whatever it takes to give you gigantic titties to rival hers. I'm talking mega hyper stuffed up milkers. I'm talking jumbo jiggly juicy jugs. I'm talking sweater-stretching, gravity-welling, bra-busting tits!

The first benefit is that your new tits will act as a sort of immunization against hers. When you're too busy not getting distracted by your own cleavage, by the feeling of your own tits bouncing directly under your chin, how can you even think about being distracted by hers? If you can go even bigger than her, all the better, as it'll make hers seem smaller by comparison, thereby robbing them of their power. Once her advantage is weakened and, eventually, removed entirely, that's when you can stage your counteroffensive.

After all, everyone loves boobs.

When she starts to fall on her old tactics, that's when you yawn and stretch your back, pushing your massive titties forward so she can see them bulge over the cups and under the band and whenever else they can find room. If she shows you her cleavage, you show her yours. If she tries to jiggle them in your face, you jiggle yours right back! If she tries to press her big, soft boobies against you, you lean into her, keeping eye contact as your own udders squish against her. Her breathing catches. You blush. Your faces are so close to each other and, as your tits squish together, you can feel each other's racing heartbeat. Neither of you seems ready to make the first move and yet, inch by inch, the space between your lips disappears until—

Ahem. Anyway. Worst case scenario, you both keep trying to outdo and outsize each other. Best case scenario, you make out sloppy style while groping each other and rubbing your oiled up titties together. Wins all around.

[growth-opportunities]

I saw the the big penis and big boobs humiliation, so I'd love to see some huge butt humiliation (especially if it's unwanted growth)

The wobbling of Cher's growing ass forced a whimper from her that could just barely be heard over the deeisive laughter of her former best friend. Even in that brief touch, squeezing the growing softness of her backside, Cher could feel her pajama bottoms getting tighter around her swelling cheeks and her widening hips. The catty, confident personality that she had spent years cultivating—the one that drove a wedge between her and Ivy—was melting away with each inch that was added to her ass. Stomping her foot in frustration only made her more frustrated as she felt the impact ripple upwards, jiggling her thickening thigh and shaking her growing ass.

"Ivy! This isn't funny anymore! You've proven your point, okay? I shouldn't have called you a fatass! I'm sorry! Is that what you want? I said it, now can you please stop—Eep!"

A snap of Ivy's fingers made Cher's lower half surge in size, drawing the once loose trousers tight over her ass. The seams creaked; they weren't going to last much longer. Despite the twisted grin on Ivy's face, her fury shone through.

"This really does suit you, Cher. You've always been an ass and now you're more ass than ever! You were a bitch ass for selling me out for your new, popular friends and you're a fucking dumbass for thinking that a simple apology would be enough to get on my good side after everything you've done to me!"

Another snap had Cher bracing herself and, moments later, her pants were rent asunder, jiggling flesh billowing out of the opening. Ivy gasped, only to laugh on the exhale.

"Oh, fuck, look at you now! Get much bigger and pretty soon, pears are going to be Cher-shaped instead of the other way around! It'll be a miracle if you can fit through a doorway! I can't wait to see you at the bar, your fat ass spread across three stools just to hold you! Pretty soon, everyone on campus will point and laugh at the freak with the massive butt, just like you tried to get your 'friends' to do to me! I wonder what your boyfriend will do once he realizes that your ass is too big for him to hit it from behind! He just won't be able to reach anything!"

Cher winced, both from the mental image and from the feeling of her panties getting wedged deep between her cheeks, her growing ass pulling the fabric hard against her pussy. Despite herself, pleasure started to build inside her, the pink in her cheeks betraying her arousal. When Ivy finally deciphered the expression and the strained whimpers, another hearty laugh filled the room. "God, if I knew that all I had to do to make you pathetic was give you a huge fucking ass, I would have done it years ago! Have fun picking wedgies out of your gigantic butt for the rest of your life! Just don't wear any skirts. A butt like yours would turn any skirt into a mini and, well, I don't know; maybe you want that kind of attention, but I can't recommend it if you don't want people smacking your ass whenever possible! They won't be able to keep their hands off of you! An ass like that makes you just a piece of meat to them and every swaying, wobbling step will prove it. And if you think I'm being cruel, just wait until your new friends see how big you've gotten!"

[growth-opportunities]

I work as a mechanic at this old shop in the city that's been around for a hot minute the owner is a 3 generation son taking over the family business. How is it that I'm working on this lady's car like clockwork and she's a bonafide milf cougar I'm talking the gaudy jewelry, leopard print design on everything, super long nails that were just done, and every time she comes in she always looks . . . Bigger in certain areas like one time she comes down to drop off lunch for me and the fellas and she's got a low cut shirt on with tots big enough you can see the bra is fighting for its life and pants/shorts so tight you can see through them and I see her again a few weeks later and looks massive even bigger than last time also she always asks for me to work on her car all the time I'm starting to get worried like what am I walking into man I need some help

I don't really see what there is to be worried about! Just relax and enjoy yourself! She requests you specifically because she sees something special in you.

If you think about it, the two of you have a lot in common. You both do the same thing. You start with a base model and you start thinking about enhancements. Even if the base model is impressive, perhaps even above average, looking for ways to improve comes naturally. Some things you can do without too much extra effort, whether that's diet and exercise for her or, for you, getting the engine timing just right. But a base model, however good it is, can only be tweaked so far. At some point, you start having to look at aftermarket parts.

You start small, little enhancements here and there. Lip filler for her, new shocks for you. Some basic implants for her, a new intake kit for you. But if you want to see real performance boosts, eventually those little enhancements aren't going to cut it. The scope of the project grows and the upgrades get more extreme. Whether that's top of theine fuel injectors, a new suspension, saline implants in the thousands of ccs, BBLs and liposuction, the changes just keep coming. At some point you have to wonder if you're still working on the same model, with how much has been changed and enhanced. She comes to you, with leopard print warped over her nearly spherical tits, dark red gloss shining on her plump lips, her enormous ass stretching her clothes until you can see the tiny thong underneath, so you can see that, like your project cars, she's a work in progress, too. And, also like your project cars, she's never going to stop chasing bigger and better.

She likes you! She sees you as a kindred spirit. And she knows that, as a mechanic, you can appreciate a souped up hot rod. More than that, though, she can tell that you're not just a good mechanic; you're a good driver, too. She needs you to take her for a spin. She wants to see how you handle the curves. And she's going to keep getting bigger and curvier until you have to sit up and take notice. Just wait until you hear her engine purr.

[growth-opportunities]

I recently started participating in a clinical trial to increase my breast size, and it’s been going great! I started at a C cup, and in a month I’ve already grown to an E cup! There is one issue I guess… the ‘sensitivity’ side effect is really kicking my ass. Whether it’s a bra or a t-shirt, anything rubbing against my nipples drives me crazy! Someone brushed against me on the bus the other day and I nearly came…

Come on, now. Be honest. I know that you love it. However distracting it may be, you can't get enough of how sensitive your growing breasts are becoming. This is what you wanted, to some degree. You wouldn't sign up for that kind of clinical trial if you didn't have size greed to some degree. Most women would be overjoyed to be a C-cup, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted bigger. You wanted more. Being merely average was never going to be enough for you, so much so that you literally signed up for an experimental drug to try and force you to grow even larger. What was it, hm? Is there a busty coworker that you see every day, straining her blouse and making you seethe with envy? Did you catch your ex-boyfriend eyeing up a woman absolutely bursting out of her sports bra while she jogged down the street? Maybe it was a best friend who was on even footing with you when you met and then blossomed into being gigantic, leaving you in her dust without even trying? Regardless of the reason why, that greed pushes you onward, drives you to not just be big, but always bigger, always more, always growing!

The increased sensitivity might not be exactly what you signed up for, but I know you love it. What better way to be reminded how big you've gotten than to have constant, pulsing pleasure radiating out from your huge, sensitive tits? You can't escape them, even for a moment. Every bounce, every wobble, every accidental squish sends a jolt directly to your core to remind you how much you've grown. You're still getting used to their size, too, how far they extend out in front of you. You must be brushing them against things all the time, whether that's countertops or door frames or even people. Some of them are accidental, certainly, but I doubt all of them are. Don't tell me you're not stuck on that crowded bus, feeling every pothole as it bounces through your gigantic tits, trying to make the pressure you're putting on the back of the person in front of you seem accidental as you rub your tits against them. Every little spark of pleasure is enough to remind you of how big you've grown, painfully aware of your gargantuan bust every moment of every day. And it's only going to get more intense as you grow larger.

You're already picturing it, aren't you?

You're already fantasizing about the diving bliss that comes from having tits big enough to cover your torso, trapped in bed underneath them as you grab and grope and knead and squeeze the massive mounds, moaning in erotic bliss. The team running the trial keeps trying to call you, but you just hold the vibrating phone against your nipples to wring yet another in a long line of countless orgasms out of your body. You don't know what day it is, let alone what time it is or how long you've been there. You barely know your own name. All you know is that your tits are colossal and that's all that's ever mattered.

[growth-opportunities]

So my girlfriend was borrowing my laptop and through a link suggestion decided to check out your Tumblr page. Of course she asked me about it, what I'm into, and began getting concerned but I assured her she didn't have to compare herself to the women on this site, especially since she's already busty herself. Despite this however, she's been a bit...competitive lately. She's been eating more, working out more, taking supplements of some kind, and I'd catch her on your page through her phone once in a while. What's really crazy is all of her tops and bras seem to fitting tighter and tighter around her chest and she doesnt seem to care about going shopping or reducing the rising valley of cleavage she's been sporting. But come on, she can't really be competing with a bunch of pictures right? Right?

Listen, bud. It sounds to me like you need to have a serious talk with your girlfriend. Yes, she's 100% feeling competitive with the women she sees and reads about on my blog. If you've read my blog as thoroughly as I imagine you have, you must be able to notice the signs! If you can't make the connection between her competitive nature, her looking at my blog for inspiration, and the fact that her tits are very obviously growing, then you're either in denial or completely oblivious. Either way, you need to sit down with her and make sure that she's okay. Whatever you told her the first time, about her being big enough for you, didn't stick. See how she's feeling. Connect with her. Open the channels of communication and be honest with her so that she can be honest with you! Make sure she knows that she doesn't need to grow her already impressive tits even bigger to earn your love or to be attractive to you.

That being said, though... If you did have that conversation and it turned out she was growing on her own, not competing with the women in my stories but inspired by them... Encouraging her breasts to grow for her own sake rather than just to appease or appeal to you... That's a different story! That's your opportunity to be supportive!

Clearly, whatever she's doing is working! Her tits are swelling; her clothes are getting tighter by the day. She wants to be seen, to be noticed, to be big! You can live out both of your fantasies by helping her! Help her grow by massaging her tits every night. Take her bra shopping if for no other reason than to share knowing glances and looks when the astonished attendant declares your girlfriend as the bustiest woman she's ever helped and well beyond the sizes that the store carries. Fawn over her and lavish her with compliments and praise for growing so damn big and let her flaunt her accomplishments for you! Once you've made sure that she's not chasing a bigger bust out of jealousy or insecurity or resentment, you can both really enjoy it.

Oh, and this picture of Demora Avarice is unrelated. It certainly isn't further inspiration for your girlfriend and it definitely isn't to give you a goal for you both to work towards together as an absurdly large size not just to meet but to surpass. Have fun~

[growth-opportunities]

My co-worker (who is evidently a witch...) has been at me over the noise/vibrations from my legs' 'anxious shaking' lately. It's been stressful with all of our office's work, and I heard her mutter something about 'stress balls' as she wandered by my desk a few days ago.

I'm not sure what she said, but it was definitely some kind of spell or incantation, as since then my breasts have swollen from A-cups, to C-cups, to E-cups, and this morning I found myself having to ask to borrow my girlfriend's G-cup bra, lest I go braless to work!

But moreover... I can't stop squeezing my chest... and I can't be sure, but I think me squeezing and kneading them is causing the growth somehow....

And no-one (other than me) seems to realize that my tits have gone from 'flat-as-a-board' / getting me mistaken for being a trans-femme or an enby... to being over-sized, cartoonishly over-filled, and seemingly have made any shirt or dress incapable of hiding my cleavage!

Can I undo this!??

I guess you can go apologize to your coworker and beg her to lift and undo whatever curse she put on you, promising to go on anti-anxiety medication or something, and hope she follows through.

But why would you??

This seems like a case of wins across the board! Your coworker is happy, not having to deal with you bounding your legs or clicking your pens or dealing with a dozen other annoying, anxious habits. I'm sure your girlfriend is happy getting to share bras with you, even if she doesn't remember you growing to be so absolutely massive and she'll enjoy it when you start outsizing her, too.

And why wouldn't you be happy with what's happened? Doesn't it feel nice to sink your fingers into all this new, soft, sensitive flesh? Doesn't it feel good to finally have tits that can bounce and wobble and shake, moving and jiggling with every step you take? Doesn't it incredible to know that the women who you used to envy now look at you and seethe with jealousy as you easily double their size? Doesn't it feel amazing to have such gigantic fucking tits?

I'm sure that, if you embraced what happened to you instead of trying to fight it, you'll be so much happier. All you have to do is reframe your mind! Suddenly, going up a cup size will fill you with joy instead of dread. Suddenly, all the eyes on you will fill you with confidence instead of anxiety. Suddenly, you'll be the busty woman of your dreams! And all you have to do is keep groping yourself and let it relax you. All you have to do is keep making yourself bigger!

[growth-opportunities]

My girlfriend recently joined a coven of witches and came back looking like a succubus with tits bigger than her head. Now she wants me to join, and let them magically expand my ass and titties too. What should I do?

If you're having trouble deciding, let me try rephrasing the question:

Would you rather go about your normal life as it is right now, jealously watching your curvy girlfriend bounce her titties and experience a sort of camaraderie that you'll never know? Or would you rather have a body that inspires both lust and envy in extreme and equal measure, all while surrounded by similarly sexy women experiencing pleasure beyond your wildest dreams?

Your girlfriend is only going to get bustier from here. The coven has her and she won't be easily convinced to leave, especially not as her breasts swell bigger and bigger. Every burst bra, every leapfrogged cup size, every mind-melting orgasm brought on by groping her massive and growing tits will only prove to her that she's done the right thing. All she wants to do is share the excitement, the joy, the pleasure she feels from finding the place she belongs and coming into the body she was meant to have. You wouldn't deny her that chance, would you? She loves you! Would you let envy and petty jealousy get in the way of something truly incredible? And she's relatively new to the coven! Just imagine how busty the older members are, or the High Priestess, herself! They call her "Mother" for a reason.

As if turning into a being of pure lust and fertility, with huge tits and wide hips, wasn't enough to tempt you, you'd be joining a group that truly values you and respects you. The coven would welcome you as one of their own, teach you their rituals, help you become who you were meant to be! Your girlfriend is already there and she can help ease your transition into being part of a group. It'll feel so good to finally have a place you belong, a place where people accept you. Of course, because of all of their hard work in making you grow from chest to breasts to boobs to tits, it would be rude not to let them experience what they've given you, right? It'll be incredible, I promise. A whole coven of witches groping you, kneading you, sucking on your tits, grabbing your ass, their black fingernails mapping every new inch of your body. The sounds of your moans, in synchrony and harmony, will praise the Goddess to the highest degree. You'll all be one.

Anyway, the decision is ultimately up to you. I know what I'd pick in your shoes. Then again, I am an incorrigible pervert, so take my advice with a grain of salt from your circle.

[growth-opportunities]

I was willing to trial an experimental drug and the main side effect I've noticed is my cum supply has been doubling day after day. Even the size of my cock has been growing. I've been fearful to fuck my partner because like what if it can affect her? What if it makes her grow in ways I can't help?

She's been begging to breed and I just cant help it anymore, I cant help but imagine how I could change her small petite body

Listen, I don't want to be the one to break it to you, but if she's specifically begging to be bred, then it's likely that you've already changed her. Maybe not physically, not yet, but being in close proximity to her has already rewired her brain to beg for what you've got.

What you're experiencing is a lesser known side effect of those kinds of trials. Most people focus on the sheer volume of cum their producing, which is understandable, but it's not just making you cum more. The drug is making your cum more potent, more virile. You probably haven't noticed it since your hormones don't respond to it, but your cum is pumping out pheromones by the barrel-full. That wastebasket in your room that's packed to the brim with bloated condoms and yellowed tissues is sending out a constant signal that you are more than capable of filling a woman's body and making your seed take root.

Your girlfriend might not even realize that's what she's been smelling; all she knows is that you smell good—you smell really good. If you were to go into her room, I wouldn't be surprised if you found one of your pairs of boxers tucked under her pillow, her vibrator and other toys easily within arm's reach. She needs you. She needs your cum. As the trial progresses, she'll become more and more desperate, driven further into her heat as her body demands to be fucked and filled and bred and, if you don't give it to her, she'll be forced to take it.

The pregnancy will be transformative for her. With the potency of your cum pushed through the roof combining with the heat you've forced her into, we're talking quadruplets, minimum. Over nine months, you'll watch her body change not too differently from how yours has. Her hips will widen, giving her padded ass and thickened thighs the perfect sway to announce that she is made for motherhood. Her tits will swell and engorge, surging through cup sizes beyond her wildest dreams, quickly filling with milk that she'll spend hours each day just trying to empty, pumps sucking on those swollen, leaking teats. Her belly will grow slowly, at first, but as the months go by, it'll push outward more and more until it completely dominates her figure, sticking out of every shirt she owns and entering a room moments before the rest of her catches up. It'll seem like a miracle that she can walk at all and, as the end nears, she might not be able to, simply beached under the heft of her swollen, gravid body.

At this point, with the way things have gone so far, that outcome is nearly inevitable. So your only choice, really, is to give her what she wants now or torture her with desire for it until she has to tie you up and take it. Better to get it over with now in a way you can control. And, besides, just think of how intense your pheromones and cumloads will get after nine long months.

[growth-opportunities]

Just saw your big penis humiliation, thoughts on big bitties humiliation? It’s also so uncommon but soooo hot >.<

"Awww, what's the matter? I thought you wanted big boobs! That's why you were always staring at me, right? Always creeping on me, stalking my social media, sneaking into my room. I knew you were looking at my bra. God, you were so fucking pathetic, always moping about your little AA cups and how you were practically invisible next to me. I thought that if you finally got some boobs, you'd stop being so worthless, so that's when I started slipping growth pills and serums into your food. Yeah, uh, you're welcome?

"Turns out that the only worse than you with tiny boobs is you with huge tits! God, it's like they became your entire personality! You hit a C cup and instantly became a slut, showing them off to everyone, intentionally wearing clothes that were too small. Most people don't have more tits than brains before a DD cup, but I guess you were ambitious! I could have lived with all that. I could have dealt with it. Then you tried to steal away the guys I brought home and, fuck, I just couldn't let that slide.

"So I put pedal to the metal. It was so much fun watching you start to panic over your boobs. For a fleeting moment, your boobs made you an outgoing slut and then, as they kept growing, you shrank back in on yourself all over again. A gross, NEET shut-in with mammoth, monster udders. I mean, I'm big. Obviously. But at least my boobs look somewhat normal. My boobs are actually sexy. Not like your freak tits! God, even in those bulky sweatshirts you wear, everyone can tell you have too much wobbling fuckmeat under there! You're just a fucking cow! Come on, cow; moo for me! I know you want to! I can hear you do it when you spend all night groping your wobbly milkers, so you might as well just give in and become a cow full time! No one is going to see you as anything but jiggly, bouncy porn. Trying to fight it will just make them shake and ripple even more! Maybe, if you're lucky, the next time I bring a guy home, I'll jerk him off to your colossal porntits. I won't let him touch you; that would be disgusting. I'll just help him get off to how grotesquely, uselessly huge your boobs have gotten. Of course, if I do that, then I'll have to keep making you bigger. Now I'm starting to wonder how big a pervert like you can get!"

[growth-opportunities]

A guy bets that his friend definitely can't titnotize him like she claims. She, quite obviously, does so. Taking away his ability to cum and dooming him to an eternity of edges and ruins. Until she takes pity on him, of course. Though, that may be a while.

"Aw, what's the matter, buddy? You used to love watching my huge, sloshy udders bounce in front of your face! I know that you used to jerk off to my Instagram, so why the sudden change in heart? Don't you just want to stare into my cleavage and watch my titties bounce and jiggle? I'm giving you permission! You don't have to hide it anymore! Seriously, you could whip it out right here if you wanted to! I'd even let you blow a thick, fat load all over me, paint my fucking tits white!

"Ohhhh, that's right! Ya can't! Someone said that they didn't believe in titnosis and now, no matter how hard they jerk their pathetic goonstick, they just can't cum. Huh, gee, I guess that someone is gonna have to live with those consequences for a while, at least until they learn to stop doubting me. And it's not just jerking off, by the way, in case that wasn't clear. You can't cum at all. I could wrap your goonmeat in my tits and squeeze and stroke and titfuck the life out of you, but you'd just edge and edge and edge. Your brain would break in half from desperation and not a single drop of cum would shoot out of you.

"Oh, and I'm sure you've noticed by now the little extra thing I threw in for you. No? Nothing? You haven't noticed that you've gotten a little... Bigger? You probably thought it was just some swelling, but no, you're actually growing. The percentage is tiny, almost negligible from edge to edge. Compounded, though... All I'll say is that if you ever want to use that cock of yours to actually fuck someone, you'd better figure out a way to get in my good graces. Otherwise, gooning to my thirst traps will be all you have left~."