Government Tit

Consciousness dawned inside Michelle's throbbing skull. Pain began to filter in from other parts of her body as well: from her wrists and ankles, her arms and chest. In a moment she was fully awake, and grimly aware that she was sitting tied to a chair. Looking around, she saw nothing else in the dismal room except dirt and scraps of trash. The only light in the room was coming through the half-closed door from a source she couldn't see. There was a voice carrying on a one-sided conversation. Telephone. She was hearing a man talk on the phone. She willed her attention to focus on what was being said.
    "…not the deal! The price is not negotiable. Half a million or you'll never know what you're missing. …Absolutely not. I sent you a fucking video clip of the bitch! You know damn well what she's like! …Yes, they are. Bigger in fact. She's a growing girl. …Don't call me a liar, Mohammed. …You bring the money at the agreed time and place, and you'll see for yourself. Until then."
    Michelle heard the sound of a cell phone being shut off and saw a shadow move outside the door. Hearing a man's footsteps approach, she quickly, went limp and pretended she was still unconscious. He entered the room and stopped so close to her she could smell him. She almost jumped when she felt him run the back of his finger across one of her fat nipples. Then another set of footsteps came into the room. They were lighter, softer footsteps: those of a woman.
    "How's she doing?" a feminine voice asked. It was a voice Michelle had heard before, and she made an effort to place it.
    "Oh, she's doing just fine. It's not every day you see a set of tits like these. Boggles the mind, doesn't it?"
    "She's big alright."
    "Yeah. But – I have seen bigger. You know, they say size isn't everything, and that's true. Quantity is fine, but quality is a very important factor too. For example, notice how nice and big her nipple is getting – isn't that pretty? In my opinion, great big nipples are just as sexually exciting as huge tits. Wouldn't you agree, Agent Myers?"
    Michelle remained silent and motionless.
    "And did you know, Agent Myers, that it's physiologically impossible for a woman's nipples to get all erect and aroused like this when she's unconscious? It's true. She has to be awake for that to happen."
    Michelle slowly lifted her head and looked her tormenter in the face. Though she'd never seen him in person before, she recognized him from the police sketch as Mr Mox Nicks. Then, to her surprise and disappointment, she saw that the woman with him was Rikki Klocko.
    When Michelle opened her eyes, Rikki chuckled and slipped into her stereotyped dialect, saying, "Damn, Nicks, you pretty smart for a white man. I didn't know that about nipples!"
    "Neither did I," he answered with a laugh. "Important thing is, she believed it!" The two laughed together at that. Michelle flushed in realization that she'd been played for a fool.
    The rope windings that tied her body to the chair were divided at her chest by the protrusion of her tremendous bust. Her breathing was impaired by the constraints, a condition exacerbated by the fact that she had been hunched over for an extended period of time. Now that her deception had been uncovered, she straightened up and took a deep revitalizing breath, which made her enormous bosom seem to inflate to an even greater size as her captors watched. They were both somewhat unnerved by this, but in differing ways: Nicks was happily mesmerized by the sight, while Klocko was simply pissed off at being significantly out-boobed.
    "What do you want from me?" Michelle asked.
    "I already got what I want from you," Nicks replied, taking a vial of blood from his pocket and holding it up. "Just a little DNA for our collection. But whereas I have no further use for you, there's a certain very wealthy gentleman in Saudi Arabia who does. I've worked out a nice little deal with him, Michelle; one that we all benefit from. I get half a million bucks, Mohammed gets a new wife with an extraordinary set of tits," he continued, stroking the broad flank of her immense bosom, "and you – get to live."
    "What about Janet DiGiovanni?" she asked with a steely look. "Did you do the same to her?"
    "Basically. Of course with tits the size of hers, she brought a much higher price. Enough money to fund a certain project for some friends of mine," he said as he looked at the vial of Michelle's blood and returned it to his pocket. "Miss DiGiovanni was a real prize. I'd been trying to find her for years. I appreciate the way you and your partner led me to her. You guys are pretty good. Too bad the Federal Bureau of Humongous Knockers is gonna lose two such qualified operatives."
    "The fat lady hasn't sung yet, asshole," Michelle hissed.
    "I expect she will any minute," Nicks replied as he slipped his fingers inside the neck of her blouse and caressed the soft flesh of her cleavage.
    "Would you stop drooling over that bitch's tiddies?" Klocko demanded.
    "Whatsa matter, Rikk? Jealous? You had the same shots. You coulda been this big."
    "Yeah, but my tits won't take all that extra weight. Look at her – just stickin' straight out like that! If I were that big, my boobs would be danglin' down around my knees!"
    "Maybe so, but Miss Secret Agent here is wearin' a bra. Without that, these big ol' jugs of hers would droop just the same way."
    "She ain't wearin' no bra!" Rikki countered.
    "Sure she is. Look at the straps."
    "Shit; I don't car what kind of straps she's got on, those tits of hers are au naturel under that blouse!""
    "Well, we don't have to stand here debating about it – let's just open up the package and see!" Nicks said as he leaned over and began unbuttoning Michelle's blouse.
    Michelle glared at him angrily and growled, "Keep your fucking hands off me!"
    He scowled back at her and grasped her immense bosom by the sides, giving it a couple of vigorous shakes. "You're not in a position to give me orders, Agent Myers!"
    Suddenly a metallic clang echoed from some remote location in the building.
    "Ah," Nicks said as he let go and rose to his feet. "That must be Agent Kerpalscheiker."
    Michelle called out quickly at the top of her voice, "Kerp! Watch out! There's two of them – they're armed!" She fully expected to be either gagged or punched in order to shut her up, but Nicks just smiled and said calmly to Klocko, "Stay here and keep an eye on her. I'll be right back."
    They both left the room and the door closed. Michelle waited, listening. There was no sound of it being locked, just one pair of footsteps going away.

Shit! Kerp cursed his clumsiness at having created such a racket. Well, so much for the element of surprise, he chided himself. Stepping into the dim hallway, he saw what had made the noise. A six-foot length of electrical conduit had apparently been leaned against the inside of the door, poised to fall over the next time it was opened, possibly put there as an alarm. In any case, there was nothing else for him to do but press on. He would have to be extra careful if he was going to live long enough to write a report.
    Switching off his weapon's safety, he crept down the long dead-end hallway.
    He'd been in the building for well over forty-five minutes, and had seen no evidence of an intruder. He turned his efforts toward finding Michelle again, calling out for her in the reverberating corridors. After so long without an answer or any other sign of her, he was starting to worry.
    At the end of the hall was another metal fire door. Slowly and carefully he grasped the knob and turned it. Giving it a gentle push, nothing happened. He shoved harder and then tried pulling it. Nothing.
     When he turned around to go back, he stopped cold. At the opposite end of the hall he saw the silhouette of a man framed by the doorway he'd just come through: the one that had been booby trapped. Kerp fought against the wave of fear that swept over him.
    "Hello, Kerpalscheiker," the man said flatly.
    "Who are you," Kerp asked, trying to keep the dread out of his voice and heart.
    "I suppose you know me as Mox Nicks."
    "Clever name. You make that up all by yourself?"
    "I wouldn't worry about that. Right now, you've got bigger problems," Nicks said, drawing a gun as he stepped partly behind the protection of the cinder block doorway.
    Kerp drew his own weapon as he reached back to frantically give the door another try.
    "Don't bother, Louis," Nicks advised. "It's welded shut. Looks like you're pretty well fucked, doesn't it?" he said with a chuckle as he took a slow, careful aim.

With Rikki Klocko standing watch outside the door, Michelle began struggling to free herself as soon as she'd heard Mox Nicks leave. She shrugged her shoulders this way and that, coaxing the topmost ropes to slide farther up her chest. She had realized in the first couple minutes after regaining consciousness that her huge bust had once more provided her with an advantage. The wrappings of rope around her upper torso were naturally inclined to slip up toward her shoulders, impelled by the bulbous swell of her oversize bosom. With a little deep inhaling and some more wiggling, she was able to raise the top cluster of windings enough to get her chin under one of the loops and duck her head through. This relaxed some of the tension in the rope, and she was able to gradually work herself completely free.
    She stood slowly, not letting the coils fall, but quietly setting them down. She stepped out of her shoes to gain stealth, and undid the top button of her blouse. Reaching down into the deep cleft between her enormous breasts, she drew out a small .22-caliber semi-automatic pistol from its snug holster and quietly chambered a round.
    It was the first time she'd worn the holster, which had been specially made for her by the FBGB at her request. She had liked the idea of a cleavage holster, but didn't want to be forced to wear a brassiere in order to utilize one. So she asked if they could make a bra with only the holster and no mammary support cups. They thought it was a good idea and had a prototype ready for her in two days. Michelle now considered it an extremely good idea.
    Flipping the safety off, she crept up to the door and listened. Feet shuffled just outside the door to the left. With that location fixed in her mind, she took a breath and prepared herself, hoping only Klocko was out there.
    Before Rikki could comprehend what had happened, the door burst open and she found herself looking down the barrel of Michelle's gun.
    "Freeze!" Mich barked.
    Startled, Klocko gasped in bewilderment.
    "Keep your hands where I can see them," Michelle ordered. "Now – sit down against the wall with your hands behind your back."
    Rikki was dismayed and extremely upset, but compliant. After tying her wrists around an old utility pipe, Michelle hurried away to look for Kerp. Just as she was beginning to wonder how she was going to find him, the sound of gunfire suddenly erupted from elsewhere in the building.

Kerp dropped to the floor and fired one round at Nicks, who ducked back behind the door frame. The man returned fire, sending one of the bullets so close to Kerp's head that he heard it whistle by. He had to remind himself that it was the ones you don't hear that you have to worry about.
    There was an extra clip in his glove compartment, which did him absolutely no good in this situation, so he resolved to conserve his fire carefully. Straining to see in the dim light, he aimed where he thought Nicks would step before firing. The best outcome Kerp could hope for in his position was a stalemate, but even that was a long shot. He pushed the thought away from his mind and concentrated on staying alive one more moment.
    Nicks darted out quickly and fired before Kerp could get off a pre-emptive round. It felt like someone had kicked his foot. He knew he'd been hit, but he didn't look; instead he kept his focus on the doorway and breathed a desperate prayer.
    As they continued to exchange sporadic fire, Kerp felt a growing warmth enveloping his foot. At least I can't feel any real pain yet, he comforted himself. He was counting the rounds he'd fired, certain that Nicks was doing the same. When he ran out of ammunition, bluffing would be the only weapon he'd have left.
    Nicks jumped out with both hands gripping his pistol, and then immediately jumped back behind cover as Kerp took a shot at him. He'd been suckered into wasting a shot by that maneuver, a shot that he'd thought was his second to last. His heart sank, though, when he saw the chamber of his weapon kick open. In the confusion of the fight, he must have miscounted: the magazine was empty.
    Nicks still had ammunition, however. He calmly stepped out into the door way with his gun lowered. "Got a spare clip with you, Kerpalscheiker?" he called out. Kerp didn't move as the man stood waiting for a response. Finally Nicks continued, "Tough break. All out of bullets and you didn't get the bad guy!"
    Kerp heard a scraping noise on the other side of the door behind him, and glanced over his shoulder as it opened slightly.

When Michelle came to an intersection of corridors, the sound of more gunshots told her which direction the fire was coming from. She turned and ran down the hall, oblivious to the wild bounding and flailing of her enormous unbrassiered breasts. At the end of the hall was a closed door that had a piece of angle iron wedged across it like a bar, forced into the wallboard on either side. The shots were now so loud she was sure they were being fired just beyond the door. This was immediately confirmed as a bullet slammed into the door from the other side. She holstered her weapon and grabbed the heavy angle iron with both hands, gradually working it loose. Finally she was able to drag it aside and out of the way. The noise of the iron hitting the floor coincided with the last shot of a volley, but then all was silent. Drawing her pistol, she took a deep calming breath and grasped the doorknob. Cautiously, she opened the door enough to take a peek, and saw someone lying on the floor.
    She knew that ass. It was Kerp. There was blood on the floor next to him. Her heart skipped a beat as she concluded he might be lying there dead, but in the next moment she saw him turn and look at her. They were both about to speak when another shot was fired and the slug hit the door near Michelle's face, sending tiny particles of dirt and metal flying.
    She quickly returned fire, a wild and inaccurate shot intended merely to provide a little cover. "You okay?" she whispered hoarsely.
    "I've had better moments, but at least I'm not dead yet. I'm out of ammo, though. I think Nicks must be pretty low by now, too."
    "Scoot in here while I cover you."
    As Kerp tried to keep low and crawl backward toward the door, Nicks jumped out again and fired three rapid rounds at them.
    "He must have an extra magazine, Mich. Stay under cover."
    Kerp laid low and concentrated on presenting the smallest profile possible, daring to entertain hope again. He glanced up to see Nicks hop into the open, and at the same moment he heard Michelle step out as well. His heart skipped in fear for her as four shots rang out.
    He realized, as Nicks crumpled to the floor, that there'd been no muzzle flashes from the man's gun. Kerp pushed himself up to get a better look at the fallen criminal, and then twisted around to be sure his partner was unhurt.
    She stood there in firing position, with her blouse completely unbuttoned and her huge tits dangling naked and free. Kerp was stunned by the staggeringly mammiferous sight.
    "Kerp," Michelle commented dryly as she carefully made her way past him toward Nicks' motionless form, "that's the same look he had on his face just before I shot him."
    "Oh. That's not why you shot him, is it?" Kerp asked, trying in vain to avert his eyes from Michelle's immense bobbling breasts.
    "No, but that's how I put four rounds into him before he could return fire."
    Kerp sat up as Mich made her way down the hall, her enormous tits swaying heavily with each careful step. With her weapon still trained at Nicks' fallen form, she kicked his gun away and then turned him face up with her foot.
    "How is he?"
    "Messed up but alive. How are you?" she asked as she began rebuttoning her blouse.
    "I think I was hit in the foot."
    Right! The blood! Michelle forgot about fixing her clothes and hurried to where he sat. Kneeling beside him she asked, "Which foot?" As she leaned over to inspect his wound, her tremendous breasts bulged forward and popped out of her partially buttoned shirt. "Whoops," she said quietly, tucking her plenitude back under cover.
    "It's this one." he answered, pulling his foot around front. There was a bullet hole that went clear through his shoe, just at the edge near his instep. "It's not bad," he observed. "I think it just took off a little skin. I was afraid it'd be a lot worse."
    Setting her weapon on the floor beside her, she gently examined his wound through the torn leather. "Leave the shoe on in case there's swelling," Michelle advised. "Can you stand?" she asked, picking her gun back up and offering him a hand.
    "Let's see." Kerp took her hand and got up without too much difficulty. "I think I'll be fine. I probably won't even get a decent limp out of this."
    Michelle started to let go of his hand, but he held onto it and gave it a squeeze. She looked at him and he said earnestly, "You saved my life just now, Mich. Thanks."
    She smiled at him and squeezed his hand in return. "We need to call for a 'bus and a boss' here. Plus we need personnel to do a thorough search of this whole building, though I'm pretty sure Janet DiGiovanni isn't here. This whole thing was a setup, you know; but we've got to be certain she's not really here. Nicks had a cell phone earlier – if he's still got it, I'll call in on that."
    As they walked together to where Nicks was lying, Kerp commented, "I may change my mind about that limp." He stooped and picked up the man's gun, training it on him as Michelle went through his pockets.
    "Got it," she announced. She dialed the FBGB's emergency number, asking for an ambulance and a crime scene officer. After hanging up, she took Kerp by the arm and guided him back the way she had come. "I have a prisoner we need to look after in the other part of the building. I'm afraid it's your friend Rikki Klocko."
    Kerp was crestfallen. "No! Are you sure she's involved?"
    "No question, Kerp. I'm sorry."
    "Shit. Now she's looking at Accessory to Attempted Murder."
    "And Accessory to Kidnapping. She and Nicks had me tied up for a while."
    "No kidding? How'd that happen?"
    "I let myself get distracted. Now I've got a knot on my head as a souvenir," she grumbled as she felt it gingerly.
    "Are you okay?"
    "Yeah. Humbled but wiser. Shame about Klocko, though. I learned from their conversation that she traded Nicks her loyalty for a boob job. And I think the method of enlargement used on her is the same one the bureau uses."
    "Right! That's what was bothering me! She looked too…"
    "Natural."
    "Yeah. I wonder how they got hold of our technology."
    "Nicks was apparently working with some group that has deep connections inside the government: he mentioned money to fund a project for some 'friends' of his. It might have something to do with the blood sample he took from me – for some kind of genetic work."
    "Maybe they're gonna clone a whole bunch of you."
    She held up the vial of her blood. "Not anymore."
    "By the way, where'd you get that gun?"
    "Found it down between my boobies," she said with a little grin.
    "You mean it fell into your cleavage some time ago and you forgot it was in there?"
    "Nope; I had a cleavage holster. They missed it when they searched me."
    "A cleavage holster? But you're not wearing a bra."
    "Special design. No brassiere: just the holster."
    "Ah! I did notice those straps earlier. Good idea – yours?"
    "Mm-hm."
    "I also have to know how you got that door open."
    "There was just a piece of iron jamming it shut. I moved it."
    "Really? Nicks told me that door was welded shut."
    "You don't think he might've lied, do you?"

Nicks was taken to George Washington Hospital and was kept under 24-hour guard. His wounds were not life threatening, thanks to the careful marksmanship of Agent Myers. After regaining consciousness, he refused to give up any information regarding the whereabouts of Janet DiGiovanni, or any other aspect of his clandestine activities. As expected, no trace of her had been found in the Veterans Infirmary building, and nothing Rikki Klocko told authorities shed any light on the case, despite her eagerness to spill everything she knew in order to save herself. She had not really been an inside member of Nicks' group and therefore wasn't privy to any pertinent details of his operation. Nicks had made sure of that.
    After staying late at FBGB headquarters to fill out the required paperwork and tie up as many loose ends as possible, Kerp drove Michelle to her apartment. The ride had been a quiet one: in spite of capturing Nicks, their mood was sullen because Janet DiGiovanni was still missing.
    Kerp pulled the car to the front entrance of Michelle's building to drop her off. As the car idled, she sat without moving to get out.
    "How's your foot?" she asked.
    "Oh, it's fine. I cleaned it and put a Band-Aid on it."
    "A Band-Aid?"
    "Yeah – a big one," he whined defensively.
    "I hope you're going to see a doctor about it."
    "I'm supposed to tomorrow."
    "You will tomorrow! I'll kick your butt if you don't. That could get infected," she chided.
    "Okay, Mom. I'll go to the doctor. What are you doing tomorrow? Isn't it your last day of leave?"
    "It is, but I'll be down at the bureau anyway; There's a Karate class I have to attend."
    "Why does a Black Belt need a Karate class?"
    "This is a special graduate workshop. It'll help me adapt the moves to accommodate my bigger bust. My whole center of balance is different now, and I need to learn how to adjust for that and even use it to my advantage. They only give the workshop once a quarter, and I want to get it out of the way now."
    "Mm," Kerp grunted. "When is the class through?"
    "It starts at 1:00 pm, but I'm not sure how long it is. Probably not more than two or three hours, if that."
    "I was thinking – if you're not busy, we could go out to supper tomorrow night. Somewhere nice. We'll celebrate the capture of The Evil Mox Nicks and the official beginning of your new career with the FBGB."
    Michelle smiled like a schoolgirl. "Okay! That'd be fun! So where are we going?"
    "I was thinking Luigi's."
    "Great! What time?"
    "How about seven?"

Kerp was hoping she'd wear something low cut, but he wasn't prepared for how abundantly his hope would be fulfilled. She met him at the door wearing a long, form-fitting black evening dress with a neckline that plunged so low he couldn't think to speak when he saw her. Her hair was pinned back and she looked very elegant.
    "This isn't too revealing, is it?" she asked as she stepped out the door and turned to lock it.
    "Hey, I've got no problem with it," he finally managed to say, discreetly giving one leg a couple shakes
    When they walked into the restaurant, the hostess greeted them as professionally as she could, but was obviously reeling from the shock of seeing Michelle's immense bosom. "N-Name?"
    "Kerp, K-E-R-P."
    As the girl checked her book, Michelle leaned over and whispered to Kerp, "Why didn't you give your whole last name?"
    "Just keeping life simple," he replied.
    "Yes; table for two? Come with me."
    As they walked through the establishment, the clinking of silverware and dishes ceased, and conversations lulled as dozens of eyes followed the progress of the gorgeous young woman with the giant bouncing breasts.
    After they were seated, the clientele slowly reverted to their previous activities, though for the rest of the evening, women would make hushed comments as they glanced at Michelle, and men stole looks at her as often as they dared.
    Perusing the menu, Kerp commented quietly, "You seem to have caused a stir."
    "Isn't it fun?" Michelle said with a twinkle in her voice. "I have to confess, I get a kick out of the attention."
    "You look really pretty tonight."
    "Thank you!"
    "Is that a bureau dress?"
    "Yes it is. Like it?"
    "It's, uh…" he paused and looked her in the eye, "magnificent."
    Michelle almost blushed. "Thanks. I like to wear a low neckline when I'm eating Italian, 'cause that way, when I spill spaghetti sauce, it doesn't get on the dress. It just goes on my boobs, and they're easier to clean," she whispered with a giggle.
    Kerp's imagination began playing through a scenario of washing spaghetti sauce off of Michelle's huge naked breasts, but he couldn't allow himself to continue.
    "Speaking of which, I've decided not to take the other shot tomorrow."
    "Shot? Oh, the 'shutdown' shot! Wow, really? Why?"
    "I'm just not ready yet. My boobs were growing like crazy for a few days, but then they suddenly slowed way down. In the last two days my bust measurement has only increased an inch."
    "What is it now?" Kerp ventured to ask.
    "A little more than 71 inches."
    "Aw, poor baby."
    "Shut up!" she said with a grin.
    The waiter came to take their order. Unbeknownst to Kerp or Michelle, the man wasn't normally assigned to that table, but bribed the regular waiter handsomely for the privilege. "Are you ready to order?" he asked Michelle's vast cleavage.
    As they chose their meals from the menu, the waiter hardly looked away from the vision of mammary enormity before him. Even after they had made their selections, he lingered, expounding upon the virtues of the cuisine. When it had gone on too long, Kerp reached his good foot out and tapped the waiter's leg a couple of times. When the man turned to glare at him, he gently opened his suit coat just enough to reveal his shoulder holster, and then let the jacket close again.
    "Right away, sir," he said with a little bow, and left the table.
    This display of male rivalry, subtle though it was, made Michelle feel buoyant. Unable to suppress a delighted smile, she changed the subject. "So what's on the agenda for tomorrow, Kerpalscheiker?"
    "We meet with Hudson in his office at 10:00 am for a debriefing on the Nicks case. He wants you to sit in, even though you weren't officially involved. He'll probably take the opportunity to welcome you to the bureau formally. After that we need to get to work on a assignment I was given two days ago." He paused nervously and took a breath. " How would you feel about posing as an exotic dancer?"
    Michelle's face lit up. "Ooo, I'd love to do that again!"
    "Uh – again?"
    "I was a stripper in a sting operation back in '96, and it was great fun! I'll need to brush up on my routine. Oh, and I think I still have my little costume. Of course, the top is way too small now…"

Agents Kerpalscheiker and Myers sat in FBGB Director William Hudson's office, finishing the review of their report on the events that had transpired over the past several days. The Director tried to concentrate on the files before him but the only thing his eyes wanted to do was gorge themselves on the sight of Agent Michelle Myers. He had heard through the grapevine that she never wore a bra, even as big as she'd become, and the proof was just a few feet away: Her immense, unbrassiered tits stuck out in front of her to a startling degree.
    The blouse she wore was high-necked, but it clung to her torso like a second skin, delineating the extraordinary size and shape of her huge breasts. Michelle's generous nipples jutted out into the fabric, nodding confidently as her tits bobbed. Her jacket was pushed wide open by the extreme volume of her bulging bosom, and none of her wondrous pulchritude was obscured.
    "I guess that's all I need to know," Hudson concluded, closing the folder. "So, Myers – your bust measurement is what now, seventy something?"
    "Seventy-two, sir."
    "And I understand you're ready for the concluding shots."
    "No sir, not yet. I realize I had indicated otherwise earlier, but at this time I'd like to continue with the program. I've weighed the issues, and the pros significantly outweigh the cons."
    "For example?"
    "Well, I've always been busty, and I'm used to being somewhat conspicuous in that regard. But after I had the shots, my breasts got so big that I became abnormally conspicuous. That took a little getting used to, but I'm well past that now. At this point, I don't see how letting my boobs grow a bit bigger would make me any more conspicuous than I already am," she said, looking down at her tremendous bosom. "And as far as I'm concerned, I'm really pleased with how firm and high they've stayed." Michelle straightened up and proudly thrust out her colossal chest, while Hudson and Kerp shifted uneasily in their chairs. "So why should I stop now? I'm having a great time being this big, and I wouldn't mind seeing what it's like to be even bigger."
    Hudson cleared his throat. "What's your rate of growth now?"
    "Well, over the past 48 hours my growth rate has decreased to less than half an inch a day."
    "How much bigger do you intend to get?"
    Michelle smiled demurely and answered, "I'll let you know."
    Her statement hung lazily in the air, luring the mind down the fanciful path of logical progression. The conversation had completely stopped, so after a few seconds, Hudson stood and said, "Well."
    Michelle and Kerp took the cue and stood with him.
    As Hudson extended his hand to Michelle, he said, "I'm pleased to officially welcome you to the Federal Bureau of Gigantic Bosoms, Agent Myers. This was outstanding work," he declared, gesturing to the folder on the desk before him.
    She shook his hand and replied, "Thank you very much, Sir."
    "Uh, you too," Hudson added, glancing at Kerp.
    "Thank you, sir," he responded.

On their way down the hall after being dismissed from Hudson's office, Kerp touched Michelle's elbow and said quietly, "Hudson never pats people on the back. I think he really likes you."
    "Likes me? How do you mean?"
    "Nothing improper. He likes what you have to offer."
    "Excuse me?"
    "I mean your professionalism, your experience, your background and training, your intuitiveness…"
    Michelle smiled and looked at the floor as Kerp continued to sing her praises.
    "Not to mention your killer legs, that lovely ass, and a set of tits that just won't–" his gesturing was cut off by a playful but stinging punch to the biceps. "Ow!" he said, laughing and rubbing his arm. "Seriously, though I meant all of that."
    "That Hudson appreciates my legs, ass, and tits?"
    "I'm sure he does. He's a man. He's also a professional, and I've never heard anything about him stepping out of line. He's been working in the kitchen for a long time and he can stand the heat."
    "I'm sure you're right. I wasn't doubting the man's scruples, I was just having fun with you. Actually, I felt that he didn't give you the pat on the back you deserve."
    "I was expecting him to ream my ass for losing Janet DiGiovanni."
    "Well, we may find her yet."
    "How? We're out of leads. Nicks will never talk."
    "And we'll never stop looking."
    Walking side by side down the hallway, Kerp savored the jiggling and bouncing of Michelle's enormous breasts. As he watched them cavort heavily in his peripheral vision, he marveled at how amazingly large her tits had become.
    "Mich, remember what I told you a while back about the other agents who became addicted to having bigger and bigger boobs?"
    "Is that what you think? That I'm becoming addicted to this?"
    "I just want you to be careful."
    "Don't worry, Kerp. I can stop any time." When she heard those words coming from her mouth, she had to chuckle at herself. "I sound like an alcoholic, don't I?" He smiled kindly but said nothing. "Alright. I'll be careful." Then she added softly, "Thanks for watching out for me."
    "Always," he assured her solemnly.

Janet DiGiovanni's colossal breasts were growing at an incredible rate, and were now drastically bigger than they had been when Wilson had first seen her, only a few days before. The ceiling in the room was higher than that of her previous room: about 20 feet tall. Set into the ceiling was a network of criss-crossing tracks, through which a number of small truck assemblies rolled. From these assemblies, heavy-duty plastic-sheathed steel cables hung, fanning out to support two large canvas tarpaulins that were slung from them. Engineered as a pair of movable cradles, this contraption functioned as Janet's brassiere. She could now walk nearly anywhere in the huge room, and the low-friction support assemblies would roll along with her, carrying her mammoth tits in tow. Janet was delighted to have mobility for the first time in years and responded with a much more cooperative attitude, despite her captive state.
    At a circumferential growth rate of a few feet per day, her goliath breasts were now monstrously gigantic, weighing several hundred pounds each. Various dimensions of her body were measured every day by laser in order to help keep track of her growth and general health.
    Her measurements were now 697-24-35: an extremely healthy girl indeed.

The End