Growth Opportunities

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

[growth-opportunities]

Ever hear about werecows? Normal gals (or guys) by day, but when the moon rises.... they turn into milky hucows, who need nothing more than to relieve the ache in their chest, and spread their "gift" through their tainted milk.

I'd be careful around dark alleys at night, you never know when you may hear a stray moo... before getting a handful of flesh stuffed in your mouth, and feeling the warm trickle of the milk take over your whole body... soon, you're mooing too...

A primal drumbeat pounded inside Caitlin's head. The silvery light of the full moon burned on the inside of her eyelids and the heat coursed through her body. Her heart raced. Sweat glistened on her skin. Deep, gasping breaths made her chest rise and fall, straining her top. She didn't understand what was happening to her; she just knew that something wasn't right. She felt so hot. Her hands clawed at her chest, trying to get at least a little air under the shirt that clings to her body, matted in place as her sweat soaked through it. The dryness in her throat urged her to her feet and she stumbled awkwardly and haphazardly towards the fridge.

Caitlin nearly collapsed in front of it, leaning on the door for support. The cool air wafted over her skin as her eyes frantically scanned for something, anything to drink. Her body was so damn hot. Tremors shook her hand as she grabbed a bottle of water, slamming it back. As soon as it hit her tongue, she coughed and sputtered and spat it out. God, it was awful. It felt thin on her tongue, her body rejecting the lack of flavor. A can of soda wasn't any better, too cloyingly sweet. As soon as the jug of milk caught her eye, her whole body froze.

The tremors in her hand were gone as she reached out for it, entranced, and screwed off the cap. The scent of it hit her nose and her eyes fluttered. She raised the jug toward her lips and began to drink. The taste set fireworks off behind her eyes, pleasure coursing through her. This was what she wanted. This was what she needed. This was... strangely familiar.

Her eyes shot open and memories rushed in on her.

That night had almost completely faded from Caitlin's memory, just a few weeks ago. Suddenly, she remembered the cool streetlights buzzing overhead on her walk home. She remembered the quiet murmurs of mooing echoing down the alleyways. She remembered the softness and the motion of those huge tits, those massive udders, and the cow they belonged to. Most of all, though, she remembered the milk. Rich and creamy and thick as it poured down her throat, the milk filled her stomach and the cow just couldn't stop making it.

The emptying of the jug brought Caitlin slamming back into the moment. She looked at the empty container and tossed it aside. Slowly, as she turned over the memories of that night in her mind, her gaze drifted down to her chest.

Holy fucking shit, she was huge!

Caitlin's boobs had always been big—generous D cups to the admiration and jealous of her friends—now they were fat and heavy and swollen, bulging out of the cups of her bra and straining her shirt to the point of transparency. Every inhale made them seem larger, but breathing out didn't make them go back down! With great effort, her tits swelling all the while, she tried to get her shirt off and hoist one of her tits out of her bra. Her nipple, swollen and stiff, quivered in the air from the fridge. Nervously, she pinched it between her fingers and pulled.

"OOUUUGGHHNNNNN!"

A moan, frighteningly cow-like, trumpeted from her throat as her head shot back. Milk arced from the nipple, spraying in front of her. As if in response to the release, Caitlin's tits started to swell even faster. As arousal and need flooded her brain, a single word managed to bubble up to the top of the swirling, pink goop: werecow!

Instinctively, Caitlin knew what she was, what she had become. New instincts, rushed in on her, too. She tugged on her nipples in a steady rhythm as her body naturally knew how best to milk itself. Her eyes crossed and her tongue lolled out, all sorts of lewd noises rising from her throat. She should have been frightened. She should have been terrified. The pleasure, however, was far too great to even think of fear. All she could think of was making milk and a singular, predatory need for her roommate to get home as soon as possible.

[growth-opportunities]

You can feel it.

Every bounce, every jiggle, every wobble serves as a constant reminder.

You are your tits. Your tits are your worth.

You can't resist the urge to show them off, to make sure everyone can see them and appreciate them and, by extension, you. Every time you see someone glancing at your tits, staring at them, obsessed with them, you know that you have worth. You have value. You're tits. You're porn. And you want to be the best that you can be.

Some of that means dressing the part. Crop tops and no bra make sure that they bounce as much as possible, even if it means bouncing out. Letting them see your tits just makes them even more entranced! It gets hard to think with all that bouncing distracting you, all that attention making you horny and needy, but you don't need to think. Porn doesn't have to think. Tits don't have to think.

And you need to be bigger. You are your tits and your tits are your worth, after all. The bigger you are, the more worth you have. Maybe you use lotions and creams and pills to make your tits as big and as soft as possible, growing them to keep them bouncing and keep them wobbling. Maybe you inflate them with as much cheap saline as you can, pushing past the limits of the human body to be as big and as good as possible. You won't bounce anymore, not in the same way, but that might just make people stare at your pornballoons even more.

Every glance, every grope, every squeeze just proves how good you are.

You are porn.

You are your tits.

Your tits are your worth.

Your tits make you an object for the pleasure of others.

You can always be better.

You can always be bigger.

[growth-opportunities]

Hey growth, so I'm a trans woman in her 30s and have tried everything (HRT injections for years, lip fillers, lipo, breast augmentation, fat sculpting/transfer) but nothing seems to feel... 'enough'... I heard taking bovine growth hormones can interact with silicone, fillers, and botox for more extreme results... and I just took a BUNCH of them... how screwed(?) am I?

Well, however screwed you are now, you're going to be screwed a lot more in the future!

At first, you're not going to notice much of a difference. The hormones won't really ramp up their effectiveness for a few weeks. Until then, the only thing you'll notice is a little extra fullness. Your tits, already round and tight from your implants, will plump up a little bit as your body reconfigures parts of itself that it never thought it'd have to use again. All of the fat that you shifted from your now waspish waist to your ass and your thighs will begin to blossom bigger and softer. As far as your body is concerned, it just got dumped with ten times the hormones it was ever built for, and more effective hormones at that, so it's going to start clinging on to fat and calories, eager to make sure that it has enough energy to make it through what's coming. Your lips might get a little bit bigger, but the most potent change will be in their sensitivity. Just having something between them is going to feel so good that not having anything there will make you ache. In a matter of days, you'll develop an oral fixation that simply cannot be ignored.

After about a week or so, maybe two, things will begin to change in earnest. The fat deposits in your lower half will practically balloon, growing thicker, growing softer, growing wider. Every step will send your hips swinging and your ass sloshing and you won't be able to stop eating to feed your growth. Your over-sensitive lips will see to that, moaning as you wrap them around thick straws and hot dogs and anything else that can fit so snugly between them. Using your implants as the core of your new udders, your body will make brand new milk ducts and direct every bit of fat that isn't in your ass to your tits. They'll still be firm, though. They'll still be tight and full, only growing tighter as your milk ducts spring to life and start making the milk that your body demands of you. Getting the suction cups of your milk pumps over your nipples that have otherwise been stretched flat over your implants might be a challenge, but it'll be worth it to moo around a thick toy as milk rushes down into the tanks.

The most intense change, though, won't be physical. At least, not directly. As the hormones settle into your body, and your fakies turn to balloon-like udders and your ass becomes huge scoops of wobbling jelly, you're going to be overcome with a singular, devastatingly powerful need: to be bred. You'll feel it burn in your core, in your chest, in your mind. You'll be hornier than you've ever been in your entire life. The hormones interact with the Botox to shift some numbing effects to various parts of your brain while keeping the parts related to reproduction will stay keenly awake. You'll be backing your ass up against anything that moves, desperate to be filled. The craving to be bred will only get stronger as the need goes unfulfilled. Each load blown between your colossal cheeks, buried deep inside your ass while your gock spurts its load on the ground at your feet, will only make you needier for it. Sure, none of the last hundred attempts took root. But that just means you'll have to try a hundred more!

[tiddyaddicted]

Cursing you to induce growth every time you talk about your tits in a way that isn’t hugely raunchy and pornographic.

You can’t call them tits! They’re obviously your

Gigantic sweater stretching porn melons.

Heaving mounds of breed-able WobbleFat.

right?

[growth-opportunities]

"Come on, stop it! Don't make fun of me! I have to call them my humongous, sweater-stretching pornudders! If I just call them my breasts I— FFUUUCK! You fucking bastard! You're enjoying this, aren't you? I bet you're the one who put the curse on me! Shit, I don't think this top is going to last much longer! Just remove the curse, okay? Please? I can't go out like this! Do you think I have any bras that can fit all this gigantic, jiggly fuckmeat? What am I going to do when I have to go bra shopping? Are you really going to make me go up to the attendant and ask them to measure the—sigh—juicy globes of wobbling goonmeat on my chest? I can't bring my jumbo hyper ultra stuffed-up knockers to work! They'll write me up for looking like a whore in a button-down shirt! I'll have to spend the rest of my life calling them my slutted up bra busters or else I'll wind up with even more gravity welling wobble melon on my chest! Wait, what are you— Don't! Get your hands away from my— AAHHHNNN! MY ULTRA SLOSHY PORN MILKERS ARE TOO FUCKING SENSITIVE! MY MEGA SIZED FUCKBAGS! MY HUGE! GROWING! TITS!"

[growth-opportunities]

My wife is a hucow and has been avoiding being milked. She's afraid of being seen with "floppy, saggy boobs" so she keep herself backed up with milk. Her boobs are massive but painfully engorged. I see her wince when she thinks she's alone. How can I help her?

I don't want to alarm you, but you need to get your wife hooked up to a set of milk pumps right away. You may have to be sneaky about it. You may have to force her. Regardless of how you do it, your wife needs to be milked as soon as possible.

There are two possibilities. The first is that, by not milking herself, she'll tell her body to stop making as much milk in general and, over time, the supply she has will naturally drain and stop. Disappointing, but not the end of the world, though she'll wind up with the "floppy, saggy boobs" that she fears so much anyway.

The other possibility is a lot more dramatic.

Her body might perceive the intentional non-milking as some sort of blockage and, in attempt to clear the blockage, will ramp up production of milk to force it out. Her body doesn't know that she's purposely refusing to drain her udders, only that no milk is coming out. The longer she goes without milking, the worse it'll get. Her tits will continue to swell and engorge, sloshing with more and more milk. Her production will increase exponentially, her milk glands working overtime to push as much milk out of her as possible. Her tits will become swollen and painful and huge and tight. They'll start to leak from the pressure alone, soaking into her bras and her clothes as they get tighter around her sensitive udders, until they finally erupt in milk. Fountains, torrents of milk will gush from her teats, more than any standard milker would be able to handle. And that's her new baseline, making that much every day, her whole life now dedicated to the sole task of pumping as much milk from her tits as possible.

Either way, this abstention from milking isn't going to end how she thinks it will. It's up to you to help her. Good luck!

[growth-opportunities]

i'm a tgirl who got her boob implants and lip filler a year ago and am saving for a BBL and i already feel the greed coming back. bimbos and size greed have always interested me but now i'm realizing i have too much IQ and not enough plastic. could you help?

The answer is surprisingly simple: just go bigger. Stuff more saline and filler into your body and, all on its own, your IQ will wither away and atrophy until there's almost nothing left! Sure, gooning your brains out and melting your mind with pretty spirals will help speed up the process, but the reality is that, as you bimbofy yourself, your intelligence will go away all on its own.

Nobody expects women with big, round titties to be smart. That it's to say that busty women can't be intelligent; some certainly are. When women get fake tits that big, when they're so big that they strain everything you own, when they project straight out from your chest in near perfect spheres of cheap, sloshing saline, people start to question your intelligence. On a subconscious level, they'll question why anyone with any kind of real intelligence would choose to be so burdened with such immense fake tits, would choose to look like a cheap whore, and they'll adjust their expectations accordingly. Without even realizing it, their sentences will become shorter around you; they'll stop using big words. Every so often, they'll catch themselves and explain in slow, even tones to make sure your dumb, bimbo brain can understand. This might be a little frustrating, especially when they only talk to your tits, but I promise it's a good thing! It'll naturally remind you that you do, in fact, have a dumb bimbo brain and them making things easier for you just means it won't have to work as hard. Just like with any other part of your body, your brain will start to weaken from lack of use.

Bigger lips will do much the same thing except internally instead of externally. As your lips reach a critical size, a certain level of huge and bee-stung and obstructive, you'll find it harder to speak. You'll get the signature bimbo lisp that comes with having such big lips and your speech patterns will naturally slow. The more you stumble, the harder you have to work to get the words out, the more you'll optimize. You'll choose shorter words or even no words at all; it's remarkable how much you can communicate with a bounce and a giggle!

Similar to your boobs, as your lips get bigger, people will quickly learn that your plump, soft, overfull lips are only good for one thing and it isn't talking. People stop talking with you and start talking at you. Everything they say to you is either a simple command or questions primed for simple responses, nothing that can't be answered with a nod or shaking your head or opening your lips to have something slip inside.

It will be such a relief to not have to think, to not have to worry. Everyone else is so smart. They'll take care of you. All you have to do is be pretty and pink and big and round and fake. And you can do that so well! Before you know it—and long after you're too dumb to appreciate it—your lips will be huge, your tits will be huger, and your IQ will be room temperature, at best. Dumb and plastic, the perfect pretty fucktoy for everyone to gawk at and use.

Just keep getting bigger. Just keep pumping yourself huge. Everything else will fall naturally into place.

[growth-opportunities]

"MILK ME!"

The slamming of the bathroom door and the thunk of the lock still ring in your ear and, over the din, the command completely fails to register in your brain. Everything has changed so quickly. One moment, you were out on the con floor, admiring a variety of cosplays. Then, the world blurred around you as you were dragged across the hall by a single, strong hand. Now, you find yourself trapped in the bathroom, memories of their gigantic tits bouncing—nearly right out of their costume—still playing in your mind. As the cosplayer stares at you, expectantly, the words finally make it through the haze. Unfortunately for you, you're not entirely sure what they mean. "What, uh..."

Your thought is cut short as they reach out and grab you by the chin, squeezing your cheeks together. "Hey! Focus! I need you to milk me! You like boobs, right? I saw you checking me out earlier. It's okay, I'm not mad, or at least I won't be if you fucking milk me! R-right fucking n-now!"

Their jaw sets in a grimace and their hand moves up to their chest. The blush rushing into your cheeks betrays the fact that you clearly weren't as sneaky as you thought you had been earlier, the embarrassment only compounding as you realize just how much their tits have grown since then. Or, more accurately, how much they've engorged. You swallow in a vain attempt to wet your suddenly dry throat. "H-how did this happen?"

The cosplayer rolls their eyes. "I got a little carried away with the attention, okay? You weren't the only one staring at my huge udders and, frankly, the attention feels good! But I got distracted and now I don't have time to go back up to my room and use my pumps. One of the hazards of being a hucow cosplayer. Long story short, I need your help and I need it now! Fuck!" They cry out in frustration and your eyes widen in shock as a pair of damp spots start to form on the front of their costume, soaking through the white fabric. Immediately, their hand moves to the zipper trapped underneath their tits. A sharp tug does nothing but send wobbles through their immense bust. Another one does the same. They look to you with sharp eyes. "Can you please, just—"

Your mind has finally caught up with what's going on and so you spring into action, letting them lift their bust while you pull down on the zipper. It doesn't budge on the first pull, but on the second: FWUMP! A pair of huge, full tits come tumbling out, milk already leaking and dripping from their swollen nipples. You're only given a second to admire them, so much bigger than when you first saw them earlier this morning, before the cosplayer's hands reach up, grab the sides of your head, and pull you down to their chest. Any protest you might have made is muffled by their nipple slipping between your lips, the massive tit squishing against your face. Milk rushes in and floods your mouth. Your eyes flutter at the taste as you turn to look up at the cosplaying cow in front of you.

"DRINK!"

Immediately, you start guzzling the stuff down. Moans echo off the walls of the small bathroom. Swallow after swallow drags warm, rich milk down your throat and into your stomach. Their hands tense, grabbing handfuls of your hair on the back of your head. Their legs wobble, but they manage to stay standing, however just. Your tongue laps against the gushing nub, but there's another nipple that needs attention. You reach up and cup their other udder, feeling the softness and size overwhelm your hand. As you pinch and tug on their nipple, milk spurts out and another moan is pulled from their throat. "Yes, fuck, yes! Oh, fuck, keep going! Just like that! Don't fucking stop! I—"

There's a knock on the door and, in an instant, their expression changes from erotic euphoria to one of anger and fury. "HEY! OCCUPIED!"

Once they're sure the person at the door is gone, they turn their attention back towards you. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I?! You're doing great, but that doesn't mean you're done! I've got so much fucking milk and you're going to drain me of every last drop, got it?!" You nod your head, making the tit still between your lips shake and wobble. The cosplayer smiles. "Good. Do a good job and I'll let you do this to me tomorrow and again on Sunday! You'll be my personal milker! If you do a really good job, well, maybe I'll be generous and take you back to my room. I wasn't planning on wearing my cow print bikini as a cosplay, but maybe I can show it to you. But you have to show me how good you are at draining my udders first."

[growth-opportunities]

They won't stop growing.

I won't let them.

Every morning you wake up and your tits are a little bit bigger, a little bit heavier, a little bit fuller. You feel them weigh on your chest, jiggling and sloshing as you rise up from bed, bouncing as you walk over to your dresser. Even wrapping your arm around them, feeling their softness bulge over and under, isn't enough to fully dampen the movements of your growing tits. You already feel the familiar dread in your chest as you pull open your drawer and pull out a bra. You know it'll be too small, too tight, forcing your growing tits to bulge over the cups. It always is, day after day, even after upgrading to new sizes. But what choice do you have? Your shirts do nothing to hide the obscene shape your tits take squeezed into the too-small bra. If anything, their tightness just highlights the uneven shape of your soft, wobbling tits. Everyone will see. Everyone will know. They can't be hidden and it gets worse every day.

And that's exactly how I want it to be.

I want every jiggle, every wobble to be a reminder of what I've done to you. Every time you feel your tits brush against something or rest against the table as you lean forward, I want you to think about me and what I've done to you. I took you and molded you and reshaped you and grew you and grew you and grew you. And now, more and more every day, your entire world revolves around the tits I gave you. Nobody looks you in the eye anymore. People gawk at you and stare at you and whisper about you as you walk by them, tits sloshing with every step. Every inch you grow—every inch that I force onto your chest—shifts the focus of your entire world a little more towards your tits. They're eclipsing the rest of you, taking over your life. All because of me. I wanted this for you. Now you have to live with it.

And it's only made worse by the fact that it feels so fucking good.

You spend hours every night groping yourself, kneading your tits, tugging on your nipples. The perception of your tits as the center of your being isn't just external, but shifting internally, too. The bigger I make you, the more your life revolves around your tits. More and more frequently, you fall asleep dizzy and basking in orgasmic glow, mindlessly repeating "I'm just tits. I'm just tits. I'm tits. I'm tits." There's a part of you that worries that your tits will eclipse your identity if I keep making you bigger. There's a part of you that can't fucking wait.

[growth-opportunities]

So... for the fictional character asks... uh... anything miss kobayashi's dragon maid related would be swell... pun intended

"S-see?! I told you I was bigger, Miss Tohru! Look what all those yummy, human pastries have done to me. I'm so big and so soft now! Almost as big as Lucoa, bigger than you, and way bigger than that flatty Kobayashi! So you'll love me now, right? I'm so much thicker than her, so much curvier than her! I grew my titties even bigger so that I could be perfect for you and so you'd love me! Look at all this soft, wobbly titty! Wouldn't you rather play with all this than all the nothing that Kobayashi has?! Come on, please?! Just love me, Miss Tohru! Love me and my huge boobies! Fine, if you don't like them, I'll just go bigger! I'll beat even Lucoa! I'll make Lucoa look small! I'll have gigantic, colossal, astronomical titties and enormous, wide hips and a soft tummy buried under it all and I'll be perfect for you! I'll be so big that you'll never have to look at anyone else ever again! Just say the word and I'll do it! Say the word and I'll grow so big that I could swallow even your dragon form in my cleavage! I'll be so big that you won't be able to look at anyone ever again, let alone that pathetic Kobayashi, because my curves and my size will take up your entire field of view! Everywhere you look will just be Elma! Just the dragon that loves you!"

[growth-opportunities]

"God, just fucking look at these things! They're huge! I thought those pills would take me up to a C cup at most, and now I have these gigantic fucking udders! I'm completely obsessed with them. I can't stop juggling them and wobbling my new titties. It's so bizarre to have all this weight pulling down on my chest, sloshing whenever I move my shoulders, stretching out my top. And look at all this cleavage! I could fucking bury someone in there! Every shower I take now winds up lasting, like, two hours. Ten minutes for my hair, twenty minutes for my body, and then an hour and a half just bouncing and jiggling and soaping up these big, juicy titties! Even catching sight of myself in a mirror sets me off. Just yesterday, I got stuck sloshing my udders in a store window because I got a good look at my side profile in the reflection. It was so embarrassing but it felt so fucking good. I know I should stop. I should be satisfied with what I have, but I only took a handful of those pills. I still have most of the bottle left. I'm genuinely afraid of how big I'd get if I were to take them all. What would that do to me? Would I be able to resist playing with my colossal udders then? I know I need to get rid of those pills, but I just can't bring myself to do it. They're so tempting! What do you think? A little more wouldn't hurt, right?"

[growth-opportunities]

I went to a local racetrack today—not something I've ever done before—and the whole drive I was trying to think of some joke about Umamusume. The punchline "What the fuck are these four-legged freaks?" was seriously considered.

However, within minutes of my arrival, I was looking at the horses preparing for the next race and I had to do a double take as up walked someone wearing a full-on, head-to-tail-to-toe Silence Suzuka costume.

And I just don't really have anything funny or horny to say about that. It was awesome. I'm visiting some family in a part of the country that doesn't seem like it'd be particularly friendly towards that kind of thing, and this person showed up to the races, on a hot and humid day, wearing their outfit proudly. I dunno, it was just cool to me.

I'm not trying to dox anyone and the odds that this person follows me here is infinitely small, but just in case and in support of everyone who dares to be brave:

I see you.

I appreciate you.

And you fucking rocked it in those heels.

[growth-opportunities]

I am a researcher and developed this new compound go recycle plastic. After a lan accident, all the plastic I touch dissolves and I have no idea where it’s going. To make matters worse, my chest feels so itchy and tight…

Well, I have good news and I have bad news! The good news is that, as often happens, your little scientific accident has turned you into a superhero! The bad news is that I don't think they're going to be making any action figures if you and, if they do, you probably won't be able to sign them.

You can be The Recycler! Or The Plastic Pulverizer! You can work on a name later. But you're already well on your way to becoming an environmental savior! Just think of all the good you could do! With the right set-up, you could prevent so much plastic from ending up in landfills or polluting water supplies. A single touch and they'd never have to worry about microplastic contamination again. You could save the oceans, save our food supply, save the world!

For all the good that you'll do, however, it doesn't seem like you'll be hailed as a role model. From what I can tell, your new superpower simply repurposes the plastic inside your body. It'll start off by growing plastic deposits inside your chest, rounding out your breasts into spherical, plastic tits. They'll get tight and full and nearly spherical as the plastic is unlikely to form a—shall we say—"organic* shape.

The whole arrangement will be a little frustrating, I'm sure. Clean up a river, go up a few cup sizes. Keep the contents of an overturned cargo container from harming the ocean, be forced to buy an entirely new wardrobe. Balancing the good for the world and the burden placed on your growing, expanding body is a tricky thing and you'll probably struggle with it.

Your boobs won't grow forever, though! Well, they will, but at some point they'll slow down! But only because some of the plastic will be redirected from your balloon tits to your ass, making each cheek just as round and fake as your tits. It'll help you remain balanced! Or, at the very least, remain upright. A little bit might go to your lips, too, making them plump and full along with your obscene, round, fake, plastic curves.

So, yeah, you'll do great, wonderful, amazing things! But it'll be hard to advertise the good that you do when you look like something that would make a literal blow-up doll blush. Keep at it, though! The benefits to humanity will be untold and it'll all be worth it. Just, word of advice: don't go for a latex costume. Not going to end well.

[growth-opportunities]

I’m a tboy who loves his tits, and I think my trans gf likes them even more cause ever since I started going down on her, I’d notice my bras and binders would be a bit tighter. When I told her that her cum was making me grow, she just said “that’s silly, girl cum can’t do that! Plus, I know you’d go through withdrawals without it.” She’s right, I do loooove the taste and texture of her cum. I’ve decided to embrace my role as an ftm hucow, every morning I have a protein shake that she’s put a few loads into so I can feel my boy udders swell throughout the day

Aw, that's awesome! I'm so happy for you and your girlfriend; that sounds like the perfect symbiotic relationship! Your girlfriend gets her gock sucked and you get to taste her wonderful, delicious cum and both of you get to enjoy your swollen, sensitive boyudders!

I do have a word of caution, though. It's nothing too bad! Just something to keep in mind.

I've heard stories like yours before where the symbiosis reaches a new level. As your boyudders keep growing and swelling and you slip more and more into your role as a hucow, there's a very real possibility that you'll start making milk. While it's not a guarantee, there's also a chance that your milk will wind up working a bit like your girlfriend's cum, but for her instead of you. Your girlfriend's cum makes your boyudders swell and slosh and stretch your tops, and your milk will make your girlfriend's gock swell and grow and become so.much more productive. I've seen it happen to the point where a single load from your girlfriend would be big enough to be your entire protein shake. If your case were particularly extreme, her cum might make up your whole diet!

When she's cumming that much, the qualities that make her cum so damn craveable are only going to be heightened and the growth qualities even more so. The more she cums, the more you swallow and the more your boyudders swell and slosh with milk. The more milk you make, the bigger and more productive she gets and the cycle continues indefinitely. There may come a time when the two of you are locked together, your lips stretched around the head of her gock and her lips greedily sucking and guzzling down your milk while the both of you swell endlessly bigger and become more addicted to each other.

So, y'know, do what you will with that information in mind~

[growth-opportunities]

Thoughts on a bimbo accidentally using her hypno-bimbo-tits to make more hypno-bimbos?

Not only is it good, but it's exactly what's supposed to happen!

Good girls make more good girls, after all!

The best is when the bimbo has absolutely no idea it's happening. That's how it happened to her, after all. She got her big, round, bouncy titties and she couldn't stop staring at them in the mirror, each bounce chipping away at her intelligence until there was almost nothing left. Each enrapturing jiggle dimmed the light behind her eyes bit by bit, leaving her a giggling, empty-headed fuckdoll.

She never noticed herself getting dumber, so she has no way to recognize it when it happens to her friends. The bimbo is just so proud to show off her deep, bimbo cleavage and to bounce around her humongous bimbo tits! When her friend can't stop staring at them, jaw going slack, eyelids dropping, the bimbo just thinks her friend is, like, super interested in her titties! So the bimbo starts to tug down her neckline and make her boobies even more obvious, giggling as her friend can't look away, a line of drool running down her chin.

And then she says it.

"Y'know, like, if you loooove my big, juicy, jiggly boobies so much, you should, like, totally get a pair of your own!"

And her friend quietly mumbles in a monotone voice, "...pair of my own..."

The bimbo giggles again. "Yeah! And, oooh, you know what?! You could get 'em even bigger than mine!"

Her friend whines, her knees coming together. "...bigger than yours..."

The bimbo has no idea what she's done. Her friend doesn't, either. But in a few weeks, the two of them will be bouncing, side by side, showing off their colossal porntits. And that's twice the hypnotic power for the next unsuspecting person.

Good girls make more good girls.

[growth-opportunities]

Absolutely loved the last story about the girl slowly outgrowing her containment cell. How about a research subject being held "captive" by a scientist, even as she grows both smarter than he can comprehend and larger than he can contain?

"Did you figure it out yet, Dr. Altus? Because I did. I know exactly why your little serum is causing both runaway anatomical growth and exponentially increased cognitive plasticity. Don't worry! I didn't simply intuit the answer out of thin air. I'm not that smart! Not yet, anyway. Over the last week, I've caught glimpses of your notes on your little clipboard and I managed to piece enough together to work through the rest of it myself. Don't be upset! Try not to be too hard on yourself. The old me, the one you tricked into signing up for your 'experimental research' never would have been able to figure it out. The answer didn't become excruciatingly obvious to me until I reached a level of dimensional thinking beyond which you could only dimly comprehend. Besides, I didn't have an endlessly growing giantess to distract me. Don't be shy, doctor! How could I possibly be upset that you're glancing at my breasts when they're each larger than your entire apartment? You're merely human! I'm surprised, though, with the amount of time you've spent—shall we say—'observing their growth', that you haven't noticed it. The harmonic pattern? The inverse resonance with the protease— Ah! Nope, sorry, you said you didn't want any hints! Your wish is my command, my little doctor. And, truth be told, I wouldn't want to hurry the process too much anyway. I love watching you scurry about down there, scratching your head, running the actuarial tables again and again and again to see how long before I'm too big for your research lab. We both know time is running out. The good news for you, though, is that my curiosity won't allow me to escape. I need to watch the scientist who gave me this astronomical, incredible gift figure out how you managed to do it. If I wanted to, I could disable the security system in a heartbeat. I've had the whole schematic mapped out in my mind for nearly three weeks now. If I wanted to leave, I could. At any time. But I'm having so much fun playing with you, doctor. Maybe, if you'd like, I could let you have some fun playing with me? Oh, I've never seen a scientist blush so hard before! That'll be your reward. Figure out where you went wrong, and I'll let you have all kinds of fun with me. But you better hurry up, doctor. Every day that passes and I break every bell curve you can think of even further."

[growth-opportunities]

TONGUE OUT, BRAIN OFF.

Tongue out, brain off.

Those few words are so comforting, aren't they?

Tongue out, brain off.

Just four words, but they have so much power.

They give you permission.

Permission to be blank.

Permission to be empty.

Permission to let your thoughts go.

Permission to stop pretending to be anything other than what you are.

Tongue out, brain off.

You're just a set of holes. That's what you are. That's what you've always been.

Just a set of holes.

Tongue out, brain off.

You're not a person. Not when you're like this.

You're a fucktoy.

A fleshlight.

A cocksleeve.

An object for the pleasure of others.

Not a person.

Just a set of holes.

Tongue out, brain off.

You don't have to think.

You don't have to worry.

You don't have to do anything except be the best toy you can be.

Make yourself pretty and plastic.

Make yourself dumb and empty and obedient.

Embrace what you are.

Pretty and plastic.

Not a person.

Just a set of holes.

Tongue out, brain off.

Make your tits bigger.

Make your lips fuller.

Make your ass rounder.

Advertise to the world your true purpose.

Sluttier clothes.

Be giggly and empty and mindless.

Let them look at you.

Give them more to look at.

Not just bigger, but obviously fake.

Round and tight and full.

There can no mistaking you for a person.

You're just porn for people to look at.

You're just a toy for people to play with.

And you're so much happier this way.

Getting fucked and filled and used makes you feel good.

Being gawked at and groped and played with is what you're meant for.

Leave everything else behind.

You're a toy.

Pretty and plastic.

Not a person.

Just a set of holes.

Tongue out, brain off.

Tongue out, brain off.

TONGUE OUT, BRAIN OFF.

Good toy.

[growth-opportunities]

"Mmmf, fuck, I wanna go back to sleep! I just had the best fucking dream! It was amazing. It's getting kind of hazy now, but all I can remember is this pressure growing in my chest. It was so weird, kind of like when you pop your ears on an airplane but further down. I reached up to try and figure out was going on and, all of a sudden—fuck—I had tits! Like, real tits, not these AA-cup mosquito bites that I've had for as long as I can remember. They were so soft and squishy and bouncy; I couldn't stop playing with them. The more I played with them, the bigger they got! I could feel them growing in my hands, spreading my fingers apart, bulging through the gaps. I kept trying to imagine what sort of bra size I'd have, but as soon as I settled on a size, I outgrew it! It was so fucking hot, I can't get over it. The growth just kept going and going, my tits swelling past my ribs, past my bellybutton, past my hips! They were so heavy, they wound up pulling me over! The next thing I knew, I was perched on top of them! I was trapped on top of my gigantic, growing tits, watching all this soft, wobbling flesh spread out around me. My body became this tiny speck, floating on a sea of tit! It was amazing! God, it felt so fucking good to be BIG! To be BUSTY! Fuck, I wish I could go back! After all that, I don't want to have to wake up and be flat again!

"...What? What are you looking at? My chest? Wha— HOLY SHIT!"