Ya I know this may seem cliché, but I am writing this because I enjoy writing. If I feel like anyone else out there might enjoy reading it, I will share it with you all. 

Massage Experiment 

	I guess I may just be a bit too trusting. I mean, it was all in the sake of fun, but here I am now, not sure if I will ever see the light of day. Trouble is, I'm not sure if I ever really want to. A few months ago I was not such a deviant, I promise. But if you were forced to live with what I lived through, I'm certain you would have acted the same way. Well, let's not fret over the details, let's get to business.
	It all began a few months and cup sizes ago. Back when fitting into clothing was something I simply took for granted. My boyfriend is always browsing the Internet and getting into all sorts of trouble. I walked in on him pleasuring himself to something that caught me by surprise. It was not porn, and if it were, I think I would have been able to deal with this. 
	“What they hell are you doing?!” I shouted out.
	“Ah um...Alexandra... uh.. uh.” he muttered back. 
	“So where's the porn, did you close it right when I came in, it's not like you expect me to believe you were wankin' it to some random...” as my eye drew closer to the title of the page I began to realize that this was exactly what he was pleasuring himself to. 
	“What the fuck is that? 'Far Beyond Hazing,' something to do with guys turning into chicks and growing enormous breasts? What the hell Rodger?!” I shouted again.
	He stammered, “hey come on... it... well... shit... I don't know what to say. I mean, I don't think there is anything I can say to get out of this so I might as well just tell you. If you'd prefer I could make up some lie about it?”
	I said, “No, no, start talking...”
	He replied, “Ok, Alex, well ever since I was younger...”
	Rodger then went on to tell me how he had always had fantasies about women with huge breasts, but not only that, he imagined them growing to ridiculous proportions. He knew this had no basis in reality, but it did not keep him from being aroused by it. He said that he couldn't help it. Once he was exposed to this kind of stuff he could not stop thinking about it. He eventually mentioned how he always imagined me with bigger breasts.
	I tried to act offended at the remark, but I didn't give the poor guy much to work with. Regardless, I was able to muster up a mean scowl and look down on him. He recoiled a bit in fear, and he kept talking. 
	He continued to mention how he just lets his impulses get the best of him sometimes. He is sitting there with nothing to do and he's bored on the Internet and it suddenly hits him. The desire to see what new stuff has been publish. Rodger even tried to tell me that some of these stories were actually quite good, smut aside. I could not help but be hurt by all of this.
	“So how would you feel if I was just getting it off all the time instead of sharing that part of my life with you Rodger?” I said sternly. I liked how he flinched when I said his name, because he knew I meant business. 
	“I guess sometimes being a guy is not just about having sex, but we have these impulses and desires almost all the time... it would be selfish of me to assume that you wanted sex each time I felt myself getting 'playful',” he said. I couldn't help be agree with him a little bit. 
	After a lot more talking and exposing all this to the open, I asked him to allow me to share this with him. I don't know why I asked him, but I thought it would be a way for us to grow together. After the anger subsided, I just couldn't resist him anymore. He was smart enough to talk me out of being mad at him for catching him in the act of cheating on me with this smut, he didn't look to shabby, about 6 feet tall, black hair and average build overall, and he really was just an innocent sweet guy. 
	I asked him to come with me, and we went to his bedroom. I stood in front of him, completely naked, exposing all what I had to offer. Deep inside I knew it couldn't ever be what he wanted. I only stood 5 feet 3 inches tall and had some breast that barely filled out a B cup. My red hair flowed down a little past my shoulders and I stood there waiting for him.
	“Rodger, I know there is more to us than just our bodies, and I know you wish I was slightly different right about here,” I said pointing at my chest. I think continued, “but I just hate feeling like I am not that attractive and --”
	I tried to finish my sentence but Rodger stopped me with one hand, and started to pick me up with the other. Holding me there for a moment he dropped down to kiss me. Afterwards, I found myself lying on top of the bed with a man doing everything he could to please me. He was trying to prove I was worth it, and even though I got the point of his actions, I wasn't about to stop this. He began with simply going down on me for a while, then fingering me and he sucked on my nipples for a bit. It wasn't long before I was in ecstasy. I found the first orgasm was just a sign of things to come. The second one was achieved as he slid his fingers playfully around my clit. The third and forth were achieve as he climbed on top of me and dove inside me. He fought long and hard to keep himself from cumming. He knew that if he kept a slow pace he could go on for quite a while. And finally, the fith time I climaxed, he joined in as he sprayed me inside. Each beat of his heart I felt another pulse. It felt warm and perfect, and I know he enjoyed it. We laid together for a while and I tried to muster the strength to stand up. I had some trouble, but after about an hour of sleeping together I was moving again.
	I saw that he was still sleeping, but I wasn't about to let this man go without a reward. What he did for me was down right heroic. I sneaked on top of him playfully, and pull the sheet away for a better view. I saw his cock laying their flaccid and I took matters in my own hand. I wanted to give him the perfect wake up call. I began running my lips up and down his limp shaft. Lightly looping it around in my mouth with my tongue. I could see him beginning to rouse himself. I felt the cock gain a bit of confidence as it got a bit harder and harder, but not quite all at once. It seemed like it needed a bit of convincing. I moved my head up and down a little more deliberately and moved my tongue more and more strategically. Soon I could hear him moaning a little.
	Before too long I heard, “oh... oh Alex, uuugughhh” it did not take long. It seems like I found the perfect way for him to realize I was all he needed and nothing else. But I knew no matter how much I pleased him, this fantasy world of his would be so desirable. Something we can never experience taunts us so strongly with a sense of unquenchable wonder... 
	This was one of the last times Rodger and I had just plain old sex. Granted there was nothing plain about this, but things did get interesting.
	
	So for the next few weeks, I found myself talking with him. I asked him if he had ever written anything and he said that he had one quick story on this web site, and some rough drafts. I would have been angry, but I was more curious. I wanted to see what he wrote and just make fun of how raunchy and stupid it was. After a bit of convincing he finally showed me. It was a short story about a women who always wanted bigger breast. She went to some magic shop and bought some magic lollipops and suddenly she became a huge breasted bimbo.
	“So what the hell? Why do larger breast make one so stupid?” I asked.
	“I don't know, I just threw it together. It seemed like fun. You know, someone loses complete control and submits to their desires. There is something sexual about that scenario in general, or at least carnal, I suspect,” he said.
	“I bet I could write something better in my sleep,” I said.
	“You know what, why don't you try. I bet if you write something it will be all about the story and not about the action. These people want action! Well, ok... sometimes a good story helps too...” Rodger said.
	“Then it's on, I will write something about me and you! And then we can share something together? How about that.” I said.
	“Well, uhh sure I guess?” he replied.
	So I guess I bit off more than I could chew. I started trying to write stuff, but I did not understand what got people off. I thought it had something to do with giant breasts, but apparently there is an art to how people describe them growing. And further, the method by which it is done. No one wants to read a story about someone just going “pop” and they are suddenly enormous. Rodger tells me that they want to see something about the process involved.
	“The good ones, “ he said, “have such good description of how they grow and how it feels. Maybe you should read a few good ones and see what how they wrote them?”
	I took his advice, but I had trouble getting through them. So much sex, so many guys just talking about doing all sorts of things that are just impossible. And sometimes, they involved animals... it's just so weird to me. I finally had to come forward and give up.
	“Look Rodger, I tried but I am unable to really get things moving.” I confessed.
	“Well, how about we have a test of our own? I have been reading something on these boards lately, and what do you say we try it out? The people have developed a massage technique on how to promote breast growth. Even if you do not really grow breasts, it would give you an idea of what a story is about. A guy like me, and a girl like you, start doing something just for fun. It starts making great results and then things might get out of hand? Seems like fun right?” he said with a gleam in his eye.
	Normally I wasn't into this sort of thing, but I was willing to let him play with my breasts just for kicks. What's the worst that could happen. I wouldn't mind having a nice pair of breasts. 
	I looked down at my breasts then. I saw them, and I was never that upset with them, but I suddenly felt like Rodger was getting to me. I began imagining how I would look with them being bigger and bigger. I mean, every girl grows up wanting to have a nice pair to show off, at least the honest ones. But eventually you just get over it and accept what you were given. But now I am thinking, or... fantasizing about something like this? What did Rodger get me in to.
	
	I would say, “that night Rodger laid me down to begin his little testing of the theory,” but it was more like 13 seconds after I said, “well ok...” 
	With a grin he picked me up and hoisted me to his bed. He helped me remove my pesky cloths and began to massage my breasts. He started with rotating his fingers around the nipple area and radiating his fingers gently outwards. After a minute of that, he switched to placing his palm on each breast and slowly dragging his fingers towards the center. It was almost a bit painful, but every time it started to sting just a little, he switched to the other massage. I really loved it when he played with my nipples. After a while they did get sore, but since he kept such a good pace, he could keep it up for a while. I hated to admit it, but that felt great. After around 20 minutes he was losing focus, and so was I. I had to have him in me again. I really wanted to have him fuck me. I started to finger myself because I just couldn't wait. I laid on my back, toying with my clit, and then he jumped inside me. I just kept playing with my clit afterwards... it was just so aroused. My legs were over his shoulder, his cock was deep inside me, and my fingers were busy at work. I didn't let him take it slow this time, I wanted to get off, and fast. I was able to get myself off twice before he could. And I still loved every pulse of his cock dumping its load inside me. Again and again, with every beat of his heart. I held him close, even though he was just so warm.
	After a few minutes of recovering, I found myself playing with my chest. I was doing the breast message without so much as a second thought. When Rodger looked over to me with a smile he saw what I saw doing. I could see his mind cranking... “she want's it too, oh my god I hope this works.” And almost instantly he was rock hard again. I was so completely drained, but I still wanted him to do it. I don't remember if I got off at all that last time, I was just to busy feeling myself up. I think this drove him to go off in record time... he was imaging me, making my own breasts grow. I think I found exactly what I needed. 
	The next few weeks were great. Anytime I wanted sex, I just started playing with my chest, and soon he would join in. Any time he wanted sex, he would ask if he could massage me, and within 20 minutes we were at it again. I just felt myself gain a new habit. I just kept grabbing at my breasts, caressing them, and massaging them. After a few weeks of this, I was afraid I was getting tired of sex almost, we just kept going at it because we were just so aroused by this.
	Three weeks had passed since that event. And my chest was sore. I didn't feel very well that morning either, and I was honestly a bit scared. Here we are, a couple of kids in college fucking our brains out and for some reason we never thought about protection. A few more days and my body would tell me if I be “late” or not. In the end, the suspense was too much, and I had to know now. I am not sure if the thought of having a kid at this age was making me feel sick, or if maybe it was morning sickness. And the soreness in my chest is not helping anything. Well, I already gave away what kind of things were going to happen, so I will let you know, it was not a pregnancy. Twenty bucks spent on a pregnancy test told me everything was going to be fine.
	The next morning, I felt great! There was no kid in my immediate future, and even if my chest was sore, I felt good. I think anyone who played with their chest as much as I did would feel sore. I just hated how I would be playing with it all the time. I'm surprised my nipples weren't practically raw. Luckily when I felt too sensitive Rodger was there to use his tongue. That was not much of a massage as much as it was a stimulant. In the end, one morning finally came where I felt like I was living the dream.
	I was starting to notice that my bras felt a little tight. I thought this was most likely from gaining weight... and it was always depressing to think of that. But I felt like my breasts looked bigger. Over the next pain filled days, my breasts were practically pouring out of my bra. I still lived in an apartment with my roommate and I was almost never there, due to spending all hours with my boyfriend. But I ran into her one day, as I had been accused of stealing something.
	I walked out of the living room after finishing some laundry. I had noticed that it was almost time to do some shopping for new bras, but I needed to wait a few days financial reasons. I put on the first bra at the top and it fit really well. I shrugged and thought that maybe this tightness was just hormonal. I sighed a defeated sigh and looked out the window. I was a little pissed for being let down by something that seemed to be so great. My chest still felt different to me, even if it wasn't any larger. That bra fitting so well told me nothing had changed. And I still  felt sore as hell... then my roommate broke my concentration.
	“What are you doing?” She said.
	“Oh sorry Hillary, I know you don't like me just wandering around half naked.” I said jokingly. 
	“Umm, no I mean, why are you wearing my bra?” she said pointing at the cloths that I thought were mine. 
	I sat there grinning, realizing with this meant. I had the same size breasts at my roommate! She had always had modest C cups, not overflowing, but noticeably larger than mine. Hillary gawked at me for a moment.
	“That almost looks normal on you, what have you got yourself into?” she said.
	“Well,” I tried to begin but couldn't stop myself from giggling with joy, “I guess I'm a late bloomer!” 
	I apologized and gave Hillary her cloths back. I guess she understood that it was an honest mistake, especially since it fit. I guess I wasn't paying attention. But how could I have grown so big. I guess it's only a total of 1 inch of the course of a few weeks... it would be hard to notice. 
	I redoubled my efforts from that day forth. I was beginning to feel and see results. Rodger insisted that he keep a photo diary of this. He would take a few pictures in different poses every day, and I wanted him to. I wanted to see what changed I had made. So our baseline picture was an older one from me a few months ago. I was just standing there and you couldn't see much from my breasts, but it was a picture from before we started all of this. The rest of the pictures began at 3 weeks after the massages began. 
	Week 6 was probably one of the most amazing times of my life. I began enjoying the soreness more and more because I knew it meant I was growing. I loved it. I could feel them sting just slightly, and I keep massaging them to and added moisturizer to help with the subtle stretching that was occurring.  The feeling of waking up and that weight bearing down on you was amazing. I could get down on all “fours” and feel them hanging off my body. It felt so perfect... it was beautiful. Rodger was enjoying himself plenty as well. He kept taking pictures as he watched his dreams unfold before him.	
	But more to the point, week six was when my breasts felt just slightly too big for my hands. I could cup them, but they overflowed just slightly. When Rodger held them, he could hold them without the spillage, but I couldn't. When I crossed my arms across my body directly across my nipples, there was significant amounts of breast above and below my crossed arms. I was turning into Rodger's dream girl and I was beginning to understand. I understood this feeling that was inside me. I just wanted more and more... I couldn't get enough!
	I had to get something to hold these breasts in, 3 weeks since I had accidentally used my roommates C cup bras and I had to get my own. But now, those bras are unable to support me anymore. This felt like going to the big leagues! Was I finally going to be a...”gulp” girl with a set of D-cups?! Indeed they were. D cup breasts on my 5'3” body and I was ready for more.
	Every night I pleasured myself more and more, playing with my nipples and massaging my chest. The pain was slightly more than it used to be, but I just grew to love it even more. I wanted to feel that stinging and tightness, I wanted to feel that tenderness that told me that I was going to be happy. And Rodger took care of me just so well. He showed me the pictures of me in a sequence. Showing me how much bigger and bigger they kept getting. And I could not think of a time when to stop. I just loved what I was seeing. And each and every night, I just keep doing it...
	So the two month mark came around (8 weeks of course) and I felt fantastic. Other than my chest pains, which were quite welcome. I decided I would not by another bra until the end of the month. I wanted to just save it all for one day and see how big they get instead of checking each day how big they are. I still went to see Rodger, and even his hands could not hold my breasts anymore. He had what he wanted, finally, but he wanted even more. He Could never be satisfied, he just loved to watch them grow. Unfortunately, I was just as trapped as him. 
	When we had sex, my breasts shook up and down with each thrust. I started to enjoy doing it from behind because I could feel my breast swaying back and forth. The weight of them hanging there... it was intoxicating to me. As we swayed back and forth with him behind me, I would keep a pillow under my chest. I could feel my nipples lightly slide across the pillow with each thrust he gave me. I imagined that he was helping me grow with each and every thrust. Pushing me forward, and feeling them tingle, knowing that this would help them grow, pulling me back and feeling something almost electric, but to me... it felt like dreams coming true.
	But every good thing must come to an end...  by the end of the 10th week I had nothing that fit anymore. I had huge breasts and nothing to put them in. I loved it, but it was getting to the point where I was afraid I wouldn't be able to fit into most of my cloths. Rodger and I went together to get my bra two weeks earlier than we planned. I told him, this would probably be the last “upgrade” I will be getting unless he knocked me up. It was a joke, but I felt like he was plotting something. I hit em in the arm and told him to grow up. He sulked a bit, but he could really not be much happier. We went in and started grabbing some things to try on. I was already in D cups, so I went ahead and grabbed DD, and a triple D bra. I went in the fitting room and knew this was the big moment. I put on the double D bra and it was such a relief. It was a relief because it just didn't fit at all! I giggled madly and asked Rodger to come in and look. I whispered to him and he seemed to be beaming. I tried on the next bra and was not quite as ecstatic. It was just a hair to big. I was between DD and DDD.
	It wasn't too shabby, it had room, and it was supportive enough, but it felt like my old bras. The ones I barely fit in to. I went ahead and told Rodger that I was a full fledged DDD of course, and he couldn't argue with our results. All we did was give me a little tender love and care and the results were just great!
	They were, until the 11th week. I found myself so busy all the time, getting ready for finals and so on. I know I never mentioned much about finals, but let's face it, this whole event had almost nothing to do with school. I had to cram because my classes had been ignored a bit due to the fun I've been having. With all the tension I barely noticed that my DDD bra was filling like it was actually a nice fit. I chalked that up to the effects of the massages taking a while to wear off. 
	This was my theory until 12 weeks... the week of finals. I was under so much stress. My chest was still hurting like it always had and my bras were barely fitting and I thought if I got much bigger I would look like a freak!
	I knew this was too good to be true... Rodger, of all the things you could do to someone. I knew it, he had to be giving me something, some sort of hormone. Replaced my food with something to increase my bust, who knows what that kid did. He thought that just because I wanted to get into this, he would “poison” me! That's it, I have to confront him now, or so I thought.
	I confronted him alright. I blamed these giant breasts on him and tried to swing at him. He held me back and I began to get emotional. He said he would never do such a thing, but I didn't believe him. My breast were just getting to big, I was turning into a freak... they were just so big and heavy. They hung off my chest every morning, and sure I liked it, and loved the way they pulled on me and the way I felt as they swung subtly with my movements, but this is too far. I am a walking embarrassment, almost. I told Rodger that we need some time off and my body needs to get back under control before I talked to him again.
	This was one of the hardest things I had to do, but I got through it. Rodger neglected to tell me something very important that night. He saw what was really causing this, and he decided as I tried to blame everything on him, that he wasn't going to tell me just yet.
	Week 13 rolls by and I am out of classes. I am just living in the apartment afraid to leave. The morning finally comes when it just doesn't fit anymore, the DDD bra is too small. I am just shocked and in terror. My breast are controlling my life, and little by little they just grew. Slowly getting larger and plumper, and then suddenly I find myself getting wet. The worst part is, this is starting to turn me on. The enormous breasts, and the thought of them getting even bigger. I had no idea it would be like this... I am trapped between my decency and my desires. My boyfriends dreams feel like they have ruined me, but I would give anything to have him with me right now... I feel so bad, but I am not going to admit that I was wrong. He was the one who probably poisoned me with all those hormones. I would think... this is about the time I should have seen a doctor, but I was just hoping that “if they grew, can't they shrink?” No such luck for me.
	And here we are. As I lay sobbing in bed and defeated. A little over three months have gone by and I have grown beyond a DDD cup and who knows what else. School will begin in a few more weeks, and I will be lucky if I can fit out the door. I hate what I have become, and I hate the fact that this has me turned on all the time. I am nothing more than a slave to myself, like my boyfriend was a slave to his impulses. Lucky for him, he didn't have to carry around his impulses in front of him for all to see.
	I broke down and called him... he didn't answer. I left a message while trying to fight back the tears, I simple said, “Rodger, I am so sorry for blaming this all on you. You have to...” I paused to regain my composure, “you have to come back over here. I'm just so scared of what we... or even what I did to myself. I bet...” I began saying joking through the sobs, “ you be glad to see our... handwork... but Rodger, please I need you right now...” 
	I spent the rest of the day sitting there, waiting by the phone. I nervously paced back and forth and just felt the weight of my breasts on me like I have all day. It still felt wonderful, and I still hated myself for it. The phone rang, and I rushed straight for it.
	“Hello?” I tried to say cooly.
	“Alex... are you ok? I'm sorry I did not get back to you till just now. It was hard for me to make this call after what you said to me. It hurt, it hurt really bad to think that someone would poison someone they loved,” he said coldly.
	“Rodger, I am so sorry. Something is wrong with me. They, they're still growing! They are just so big Rodger, please help me. I don't know why I think this, but I feel like you are the only person who can do anything about this.” I begged.
	“Say, Alex, I can tell you what is going on. I noticed it when you blamed everything on me, and I would have told you sooner if it hadn't hurt so much. Look down, right now. Look down and tell me what you see,” said Rodger.
	“I see your perfect giant breasts,” I told him trying to make him happy.
	“No, not that,” He said quickly.
	“What are you talking about Rodger? I just see me. What is it you want me to see,” I said sounding a bit frustrated.
	“Take a look at what-” he began saying as I looked down to see something that horrified me. He continued, “take a loot at what your hands are doing right now.” 
	I gasped slightly and saw what was going on with my left hand. As my right hand held the phone, by left hand was softly massaging my breasts. Have I been doing this all the time? It became a force of habit, and I never noticed. I was the reason for my giant breasts. My heart sank as I realized how natural the movements felt. I have no idea how much I had been massaging myself. Each stroke causing my breast to grow just a fraction more over time, and the culprit was me. I sank down crying unable to muster the strength to pick the phone back up and my hand crept up to my chest. My devilish little hands; I watched them stroking and massaging so gently and quietly, “I must of have been doing this all the time... I can do it without thinking” I thought. I wept as I helpless watched and gave in to my impulses knowing that what I was doing was causing my own demise. 
	I never picked that phone back up, but I was awoke by a familiar voice. Luckily my roommate left at the end of the semester, so it was just me, and this other person. The voice belonged to Rodger. He had returned, and my only wish was for him to take me back. I tried to apologize as he helped lift me up. He had to pull my hands away from my chest and hold them still since I had been subconsciously massaging myself this whole time. He cracked a bit of a smile and gave me a kiss.
	I was so relieved. To me, it meant, “Alex, I forgive you.” And I started to crack a little grin too.
	“So,” I said with a little sob, “how do you like our little science project?” 
	“Alex, I don't want to hurt you, and never did. But you see why it hurt so much to hear that?” he said.
	“Yes..”
	And so began my apology. He nodded and was still a bit angry, but he could not keep his eyes off my breasts. Every now and then he would stop me from talking as I instinctively was massaging my breasts again and again. He would grab my arms and hold them down. He would then smile at me and say, “I wish you were meaning to massage yourself like that, but if you really don't want it, I will help you the best I can.”
	That night, Rodger and I were finally reunited to end this curse. It would not be something that could be fixed over night.
	As he lay in bed with me again, he felt himself touching my breast, and moving towards me. He climbed on top of me and held me tightly. I told him how much I have missed his touch and my giant breasts need a pro to relieve their pressure. He began working on my chest more, but this time it was not a massage. He sucked on the playfully and began finger me again. I loved every second of it. He made me feel like I did back in the beginning. But then as he got me off the first, second and third time, he finally mounted me. He climbed on top of me and began ramming himself into me. I felt the weight of my massive breasts shaking back and forth. I could feel them rocking and reeling. I loved it so much. It made me realize how much I really did love having these giant breasts. He keep pumping harder and harder as my breast kept heaving up and down, and until finally he released inside me again. I missed it so much, and it was such a relief to feel his shaft spray me inside with the pulses of his heart beat. But I barely had a chance to exhale before he rolled me on my stomach. 
	He had me get on my knees as he began to fuck me from behind. I no longer needed a pillow under my chest to feel my nipples rubbing against anything. My breasts were almost simply touching the bed when I was on my knees. I felt them sway back and forth, so hard and fast. My breasts are so much heavier now. I feel them brush against the sheets as I fall deeper and deeper in to ecstasy and with every thrust I feel they sway forward. They are so big and firm, and I can't help but want so much more. Rodger released himself inside me again and again that night. And I was so happy to have him back. I loved him so much, and he loved me. And we both loved what I had become. 

	That night, though, there was a troubling event. While Rodger was there to take care of me  and to make sure I stopped massaging, every now and then in my sleep, my hands would move all on their own. They would move from the nipple radiating outwards, move from the outside and slide their fingers inwards. I lay there in my ignorant bliss growing bigger and bigger, yet neither of us know why for the longest time. How big did I grow? I am not going to say, but I eventually learned to love what my body did to me, and what I did to myself. It wasn't so bad, but perhaps that is a story for another day.