Rebellious Phase

by Mich

The town of Rose Hills was like something out of an educational video from the fifties.  All of the dads got up every morning, kissed their wives goodbye, went to work at their white collar jobs, came home, and smoked a pipe while reading the sports section.  All of the mothers got up, made breakfast, kissed their husbands goodbye, took care of the little ones while chatting about the various goings on about the town, and prepared dinner for their families.  And all of the kids?  They were either perfect little angels in elementary school: playing in the streets, getting dirty (but not too dirty) in the afternoons, taking baths every night, and falling asleep to a bedtime story; or they were rambunctious, but not too rambunctious, teenagers in high school: attending classes, blushing when asking each other out on dates, studying hard every night, and working part-time jobs every other day and on the weekends.

There was only one high school in Rose Hills, and it was a private one, at that.  The community felt that a privately funded school turned out young adults who were much more able to take care of the community in turn than a school that ran on a curriculum set up by the state government.  Besides, the strict school uniforms and heavily regulated schedules helped the kids stay on-task, both in their schoolwork and in their would-be romantic lives.

The entire plan of Rose Hills had worked for the better part of a century.  It was an enclosed community, with everyone commuting out for their jobs and leaving for university, but always coming back.  And it would have pretty much always been that way, far into the future, if it wasn't for one small event.

One event.

It involved the internet.  The internet isn't really a "one event" kind of deal, in the usual sense.  There's a lot of stuff on it.  Rose Hills adapted, though, mostly through its mindset.  There was no fancy setup of filters and security there.  No, the community elders just knew that no one would use the immense power of the internet for anything that the community disagreed with.  It just wasn't how it worked.  In fact, Rose Hills was so idyllic, only one of the graying seniors on the town council even had a glimmer of a thought that such a powerful thing could be a corrupting influence on their community, and he brushed the suggestion from his mind with a slight scoff.

The rules of Rose Hills were so ingrained, so unspoken, that few ever considered they could be broken.

It wasn't even pornography that did Rose Hills in.  Nothing so crass.  Not even something that is generally thought to be a corrupting influence.  No, it was just a suggestion that life could be different, and some very, very powerfully held back emotions.

But that isn't quite where it all started.  After all, there was a reason that Jenny Barlow got that idea on a Monday afternoon.

It really begins with Mark Peterson.  Mark was the most popular boy at Rose Hills High, and he wasn't the quarterback of the football team, or president of the debate club, or the class representative.  No, Mark was just Mark.  He was straight-laced almost the point of fastidious about his appearance despite his apparently carefree attitude, got the top grades, worked part-time at the local grocery as a checker and bagger, and, most importantly of all, was dating Jenny Barlow.  Jenny was the most popular girl at Rose Hills High, almost exactly the same as Mark: she got the best grades, had the most interesting presentations, socialized with all of the different cliques and groups, and was, by far, the prettiest.  When he asked her to the Homecoming dance in Junior year, no one batted an eye.  It was almost meant to be.

And, like any of the top graduating young men from Rose Hills High, Mark was immediately accepted into Kenworth State University, the college that any male worth his stuff went to in the entire state.  Every teacher, government official, doctor, and middle-to-upper class father in Rose Hills went to Kenworth for the four-to-eight year degree necessary to be the best in his field before returning to Rose Hills, getting married to his high school sweetheart, having a child or two, and starting the entire cycle over again.

And Jenny, blonde, sweet Jenny, didn't like that plan.  Not one bit.

"Mom," she squeaked, stomping her foot, "I want to go to Kenworth with Mark!  We're meant to be together!  Daddy, you need to back me up!"  She turned to her father, who waggled his eyebrows, bit his pipe, and disappeared behind his newspaper.

Mrs. Barlow continued to stir the batter she was mixing up, hardly even looking at her daughter.  "Jenny, calm down," she said, trying not to smile.  "You're just in a phase that we all went through at your age, when you think that four years is the rest of your life."

"It may not be the rest of my life, Mom, but it's the rest of my youth!  The community college looks so boring and lame!"

Rose Hills Community College was about the same size as Rose Hills High, and was where almost every single young woman, fresh from high school, and every single male that didn't go to Kenworth started and completed their secondary education.  The idea was that young women would leave Rose Hills Community fresh-faced and fully ready to get married, have children, and be the best mothers they could be for the rest of their lives, and the idea held true.

"Now Jenny, both I and Mrs. Peterson went to Rose Hills Community College, and we both had the times of our lives, AND we both married the boys of our dreams, so I don't think you'll get much sympathy from either of us."

"Of course, the boy of your dreams left and you had to settle for me..." Mr. Barlow said in a low tone, causing the Mrs. to shriek with laughter and throw a wet dishrag at him.

Jenny harrumphed and stomped up the stairs to her room, almost slamming the door behind her before realizing that would just be rude.  Mr. Barlow's eyes followed her shiny black school shoes up the stairs.

"She's finally going through the rebellious phase," he said, wryly.

Mrs. Barlow shook her head and tsked.  "She'll get over it, just like all of us.  After all, it's only four years."

But she didn't get over it.  Instead, Jenny sat down at her computer and immediately saw her instant messenger flash at the bottom of her screen.  It was her best friend, Nicole.  If there was a competition at the school, there was no doubt that Jenny would come in first for best-looking, but Nicole would most likely be voted in second, or possibly tie with their third friend, Catherine.  Together, they were the top three girls at Rose Hills High, and they looked it, too.  The blond Jenny, the red-head Nicole, and the black-haired Catherine; they were thick as thieves, if thieves dared to step onto the streets of Rose Hills.

"What's up, buttercup?" Nicole asked.  Her eyes watering, Jenny leaned onto the keyboard.

"My parents won't let me apply at Kenworth!  They're being so stupid."

"Well, they probably know what's best," Nicole said.  She was always the most level-headed of the three.  Jenny theorized that it was this quality that helped her put up with her obsessive mother, although she would never voice such an opinion out loud; it just wasn't done.  You had to admit, though, Nicole's position as leader of the cheer squad and president of the debate team and perfect attendance and grades were no doubt fueled by her mother's fire for a perfect daughter.  Which is why Jenny didn't exactly take Nicole's suggestion that parents always know best to heart.  "Oh, got to go, Mom says I need to learn how to make this recipe from her."

Jenny sighed and closed the messenger window.  That was another thing Nicole's mom, Mrs. Jansen, obsessed about: Nicole being a perfect cook.  Jenny had no idea how Nicole kept so thin, considering she was always cooking and testing recipes, in between cheer competitions and debates and the million other things she did.  It was almost impossible to spend time with her, outside of school.

She looked for someone else to commiserate with, but saw that Catherine wasn't online, either.  She was probably at track practice, something the tiny girl excelled at despite her short stature.  Catherine would be an especially good person to talk through the problem with, as she was dating Mark's best friend, James, and was having a similar experience, with graduation slowly creeping closer.  She had even been the one to suggest to Jenny that she try to get into Kenworth--with her parents' approval, of course.

"I would have to get in on a scholarship," Catherine had said, "what with my grades.  Or I would need some other reason to stick with James."  The girls had all giggled nervously at that, but nothing more was said on the subject to clarify.  That just wasn't spoken of.

Mark, meanwhile, had an idea along those lines on how to stick with his girlfriend.  "This is stupid, Dad," he said, running his hands through his hair.  "We're both eighteen, we can get married!  I love her, I know I do.  What's the difference between getting married now and getting married after we graduate from college?"

"That's exactly what I thought when I was your age, son," Mr. Peterson said, crossing his legs comfortably in his easy chair.  "But then I realized that there were too many mistakes that could be made, especially with me needing to concentrate on my education.  And while your mother was the sweetest girl of the pickings, I knew she would be even sweeter after waiting to come back to Rose Hills."

"But Dad, I'm my own man, I can do what I think is right!"  But Mark's father only chuckled.

"You may legally be a man, but you're still just a boy.  Once you're mature enough, you'll understand."

Mark didn't stomp up the stairs to his room, and he didn't almost slam the door, but he did feel that seed of discontent get planted somewhere in his heart, as he mulled things over and tied his work apron on.

He needed to talk to Jenny, that was it.  They could figure out a way to make this work.  He looked at his computer, longingly, then patted his cellphone in his pocket.  He would text her at his first break, he decided, just as he did every workday.  But he did need to build up a good savings, or he wouldn't have a good fund to help him get comfortably through college, and if he didn't have that, he might fail, and he wouldn't be able to support his love when he came back home, and they would never have children and live a perfect life.

But Jenny would know what to do.

Which was exactly what Jenny was trying to decide.

With no one left to turn to, she clicked through the internet to Kenworth's homepage.  Here were the pictures of the verdant lawns, the brick and mortar buildings, the tall dormitories.  Pictures of classrooms where she and Mark could sit and hold hands during a lecture, trees they might have study picnics under, hallways they might steal quick kisses in.  It was just so wrong, that he might go there without her, live an entire life away from his beloved.  Look at all of the happy students!  They looked so fun and free and... and... and pretty!

Now that was a horrible thought, one that she had never thought of before!  What if Mark fell OUT of love with her?  Before she had just been upset that they wouldn't be together, but now there was the distinct possibility that he would forget about her and find a new girlfriend at college, one smarter and better looking than her.

Jenny began to frantically click through the website, looking at picture after picture of college girl, comparing them with the small mirror next to her desk.  Well, that one wasn't prettier than her.  Jenny had a much better and cuter nose than that one.  Jenny's chin was pointed perfectly compared to that.  And the cheekbones on that one?  When she smiled in that picture, her cheeks didn't look nearly as cute as Jenny's.  And that one's hair!  Ugh, it was just horrible.  It would look much better at Jenny's length, brushing down to her elbows in golden waves.

But wait.

That one.

That one right there.

She may not have been prettier than Jenny, but she was definitely a worthy competitor.  And she had some mysterious quality that Jenny didn't have.  One quality.

She had curves.

Up until this point, Jenny had never really thought about it.  She had breasts, yes.  And she had hips.  But they were just a part of what made her the young woman she was, just a part that contributed to her overall beauty.  But this girl, no, this college WOMAN, she proved Jenny wrong.  She didn't have huge breasts, but they were definitely large.  And she didn't have a large bottom, just enough of a curve to be enticing below the hem of her t-shirt.  And she was wearing denim trousers, like a boy would wear, only they looked... looked...

They made her look a word that Jenny had never thought to describe anything before, not even Mark.  The girl, in her cleavage-bearing top and scandalously exposed tummy and protruding hips, looked SEXY.

Jenny stood up and looked at herself in her mirror.  Her breasts just couldn't measure up to that other girl's: they were petite--small--tiny, even.  There was no way.  And her hips, while not completely flat, weren't the curvy examples that were nearly thrusting themselves off of the screen at her.  No, they were just hips.

But she had to keep Mark.  If she looked good enough, it would prevent him from even LOOKING at other girls in college.  Heck, it might even convince him to stay in Rose Hills, to go to the community college, with her!  She had to try something.

So she did the unthinkable.

She unbuttoned one of the top buttons on her blouse.

"Oh my gosh," Jenny said to herself.  She could see the curve of her neck, even the top of her chest.  How crazy!

And delicious.

She unbuttoned the second button.

Her mom was going to freak.  She had to do it back up.  The whole town would talk!

She undid a third button and admired the effect.

She didn't have any cleavage, that was true, but it was certainly an alluring effect.  There was a lot more flesh showing down the front of her shirt than before, and it was certain to grab Mark's attention.

She couldn't do anything about her hipline without new clothes, she realized.  But maybe she could pull her shirt in extra-tight...

It was a good look, she decided, admiring herself in the mirror.  She liked it, even.  And when her mom called her for dinner, well, Jenny was almost excited to trounce down the stairs.

Her parents (or her mother, at least) gaped at her from across the kitchen table.

"Jenny, what are you doing?"

"Eating this delicious quiche, mother," Jenny said, as sweetly as she could manage.

Mrs. Barlow's eyes narrowed.  "You know what I am talking about, Jenny."

"Listen to your mother, dear," Mr. Barlow said, not looking up from his plate.

"I am listening," Jenny said, taking another bite of quiche, "but I don't know what she's talking about."

"Jenny," Jenny's mother said, an odd strain coming into her voice, "button your blouse up right now or I will... I will... I--"

"YOU'LL WHAT, MOTHER?" Jenny exploded.  She almost stopped in surprise at herself but found even more rage flowing up through her cheeks.  "YOU'LL KEEP ME AWAY FROM THE BOY THAT I LOVE?  YOU'LL STOP ME FROM FINDING HAPPINESS, LET ME SEND HIM AWAY WHERE HE'LL FIND SOMEONE ELSE?  WELL I'M NOT GOING TO LET IT HAPPEN!"  She was screaming over the table, still clutching her knife and fork.  Her parents were both staring at her, both of them as shocked as she was.

And the best part?

It felt good.

The blood was still rushing up from her torso, flooding her cheeks and chest with warmth.  It felt GREAT!  Her mom opened her mouth again, but Jenny threw her silverware down.  "I think that I have had enough to eat for tonight," she said firmly, then stood up and marched away from the kitchen table.

And as she marched, something wondrous happened.  That warmth and fire and heat that she felt when she first started yelling, it began to concentrate in two very specific areas.  As she walked, she felt a heaviness begin to grow in her chest, she felt her breasts begin to bounce and grow tight in her utilitarian brassiere, her erect nipples pushing against the rough fabric.  And her hips began to swing more as her skirt grew a little tighter, the weight below her waist increasing with each step.

Jenny mounted the stairs, not with surprise, but with strange satisfaction.  She had gotten her way.  And she had a feeling she would be getting her way a little more from now on.

***

Mark was the first person to see her the next day, after her mom wordlessly dropped her off at the front door to the school.  She hadn't made a comment about Jenny's newly-formed breasts, something that didn't surprise Jenny in the least: the people of Rose Hills just didn't talk about those kinds of things.  If Jenny wanted to spontaneously grow enormous breasts, that was her decision.

After the strange calm had worn off of Jenny, though, she had a minor, excited freak out.  She had looked at herself in the mirror for several hours, just looking at them and prodding them and feeling how they swayed and moved in different situations.  They were so much bigger than she had been before, both of them filling her hands completely.  Her school blouse, with the three buttons undone, now showed off a very nice amount of cleavage.  It was obvious that her tiny bra, barely a B-cup, was no match for these new babies, and she was going to have to ask the school nurse or someone for advice in finding a bigger size.  And she didn't even care about the embarrassment that something like that would normally bring; she was too ecstatic.

The curve of her bottom was quite pleasing, as well, but her school skirts just didn't show it off as much as they could.  She almost pouted in the mirror the following morning when she had to cover it up, but she knew that it would be quite visible in her school swimsuit, or her PE clothes, or if she worked up the nerve to buy some of those jeans.

The look on Mark's face, as his eyes popped out of his head, was priceless.

"Jenny, what..." he said, then trailed off.  His mouth hung open, a lock of his normally perfect hair falling into his face.  Jenny blushed, finally feeling a wee bit of shame at the look from her boyfriend.  He didn't look quite as thrilled as she had hoped.  Besides, here they were, in the front lawn of the school, where everyone could see his reaction.

"Don't you like it?" she asked, almost pouting.

"Well, I, uh, gee whiz, Jenny!" he said.  Her shoulders slumped and she almost turned to walk way, to try to save more face, but then felt Mark's arm go around her shoulder.  "Come on, let's go find the others and get you away from all of these people.  They're really staring!"

She following his example, not daring to meet the looks and stares of the rest of the students.  She had been so full of excitement at her new look, at her apparently divergence from what her parents wanted, at her assuredness that Mark wouldn't leave Rose Hills once he got a look at her, that she hadn't had time to think about what a ruckus it would cause.

The couple found their three friends, Nicole, Catherine, and James, in a corner of the school's courtyard, thankfully away from any of the large crowds or main paths.  The three were talking closely among themselves, probably gossiping about what they had heard.  Catherine was holding tightly to James, almost as if she was frightened.

"Hey gang," Mark called out, tightening his grip around Jenny while she held her arms wrapped around his chest.  The trio immediately shut up and turned to the pair walking toward them.  "Hi, you two," Nicole ventured, brushing her red ponytail back behind a shoulder.  Then, almost in an undertone, "How are you, Jenny?"

It was this that finally got Jenny.  Whatever red flag had shot up in her brain upon seeing Mark immediately broke, and she almost felt that fire building up inside her from the previous night: the fire that had gotten her in this current position.

"You know how I am?" she asked, maybe a little too loudly.  Mark's arm suddenly stiffened around her waist.  "I'm fine!  I'm great, actually!"  She shoved off from her boyfriend, eliciting a gasp from the group as her prominent cleavage was suddenly on display.  "And," she said, pointedly staring each of them in the eyes, "I think that I LOOK great!"

There was a stunned silence as the blonde stood there, hands on hips.  Mark, at last, gulped.  "I-I think that you look great, too, Jenn," he stammered.

She nearly melted, suddenly grabbing onto his arm.  "Oh, really?"  Her boyfriend nodded.

"Definitely.  I, er, I like them, like that.  They look-- you look good."

Jenny laid a hand on her chest, temporarily forgetting that it would be a much softer surface than she was used to. "Oh, thank goodness, Mark!  I was so worried, after the reactions everyone was giving.  I mean, I only did it for you."

"For me?" he started, but the bell rang, signaling the start of the actual school day.  The other three scooted off as surreptitiously as they could, their eyes not daring to meet Jenny and Mark's.  Jenny tried to grab Nicole's arm as she passed, but the redhead stealthily avoided her grasp.

"Forget about them," Mark said.  "I love you and that's all that matters."  He leaned in to kiss her.

"But do you love me more, now?" she asked, not quite turning her head up to receive the kiss.

"More?" he laughed.  "How could I love you more?"  Their lips touched and then parted, just as always.  "You just look really, really good."

"Thanks, Mark," she glowed, before stepping off towards class.

Once the day was in full swing, that glow almost started to dissipate.  The looks and glowers and glares from all of the students and teachers almost made Jenny relinquish her former stance on her top three buttons.  But no, she had decided, and she wasn't going to back down.  Not for the world.  So she made her way through the halls, enjoying the feeling of her books pressed against her new breasts, the way her behind bounced just a little more than usual with each step, and she even enjoyed the feeling of every eye on her, or peering down her cleavage.

It was difficult to discern, but she was quite certain half of those looks were either jealousy or some strange form of a crush.  She had never really heard the word used in any kind of context, but "lust" was probably the one.  Some kind of loving greed, whatever it was.

Mark, meanwhile, took a few periods before remembering what it was Jenny had been talking about before the bell rang.  "She did it for me?" he said to himself, quietly.  "What does that mean?"

As much as she tried to hide it, Nicole wondered about it, too.  Sure, she refused to sit next to her best friend in the three classes they shared together (it was only proper, really), but it was like a worm in her mind.  She even managed to mess up her recipe in home economics, something that the teacher, Miss Jennings, nearly refused to believe.  Nicole doesn't mess things up, after all.  She was going to have to send a note home to Nicole's mother, something Nicole did not look forward to.  But, like a song stuck in her head, she kept picturing Jenny's breasts, bouncing behind her eyes.  And her blouse unbuttoned, out there, for the world to see, and Jenny didn't seem to care at all!

What a strange idea, that one could do that.  Catherine found herself pondering it as she warmed up on the track that afternoon, doing her stretches and warm-ups.  And to think that Jenny, of all people, would be one to pull such a strange prank.  That Jenny would be the girl to... to...

Rebel was the word that James came up with.  It was what Jenny was doing, rebelling against the standards that Rose Hill lived by.  He watched his girlfriend looping around the racetrack, her short black hair bouncing in the breeze, and he marveled at such a concept.  At first he had been almost disgusted with the idea, that someone could break the norms in such a way.  But then he would think of Jenny's breasts and how much he liked them, comparing them to Catherine's almost nonexistent chest.  It wasn't that he would have rather go steady with Jenny, far from it: he was absolutely in love with Catherine.  But the thought of Catherine rebelling, too.  That just woke up these strange feelings inside of him.

"So how did you do it?" Mark finally asked Jenny after school.  They would normally have had a quiet time during lunch to talk, but Jenny had been taken the time to visit the school nurse to talk about brassieres.  It hadn't been a completely awkward conversation, once Miss Pennyworth had gotten over the fact that Jenny was acting slightly out and had been forced to the actual topic of cup-sizes.  Mark had to get to work in a few minutes, but the idea had been completely unavoidable all day.  There was something about it that just weaseled somewhere in his chest and woke something up deep inside.

Well, it woke a few things up.  At more than one time had he been surprised to find his, well, his penis, to put it bluntly, swelling up and hardening like it sometimes did in the mornings.

"It was so peculiar," Jenny said, walking slowly alongside him, their hands intertwined.  "I was arguing with my parents, but not really arguing, you know, more telling them what I wanted to do and having them explain what was the right thing to do.  You know?"  Mark nodded.  That was how things went, wasn't it?  Just like his conversation with his dad about going to the community college instead of Kenworth.  "And I got to thinking about how you would meet all these pretty girls at college and they might steal you away--"

Here Mark reassured her with a few words and a kiss, as was expected.

"--and so I was unbuttoning my blouse a bit and it looked so good even though I didn't have large breasts, but my mom got pretty upset for obvious reasons, and next thing I knew I was yelling at her and realized that I wasn't going to listen to her this time, not a chance!  This was my decision, to unbutton my blouse!  And then, suddenly, I was looking like this!"

"That was it?" Mark asked, not quite sure what to think.  But then again, the evidence was right there, wasn't it?

Jenny nodded and turned, taking both of his hands.  "I just got so worked up, I don't really know what happened, but it was so warm and felt so good to tell them off!  And now THEY feel so good."  She got a look on her face that he couldn't read, but it involved looking around and biting her lip.  "Do you, um, do you want to touch them?"

Mark's eyes grew as big as saucers.  "Touch them?  Here?"  Jenny blushed and looked abashed.

"Well, you don't have to if you don't want to.  I don't know, I thought it might feel nice."

"Jeeze, Jenny!  I don't know what to think at all.  I do have to get to work, though."

"Okay," she sighed, her face screwing up.  He gave her another reassuring kiss.

"I'll talk to you online tonight, okay?"

***

It was quite a distracted day that Mark had at the grocery store.  He almost put a carton of milk on top of some eggs, and tried giving change to an old lady's dog instead of her.  His heart racing with anticipation, and not sure why, he jumped onto his bike and pedaled home as quickly as possible the minute his shift ended.  It was only once he was changing out of his school clothes, back in his room, that he realized why he was excited: the icon for his instant messenger was winking at him.

"Hey beautiful," he typed  in reply to Jenny's IM.  "Just got back from work.  What's up?"

"Just trying on new clothes," she said.  "My old ones didn't fit as well anymore."

For some reason this sparked that reaction in Mark that he had earlier that day.  Imagining Jenny, her new bust line overflowing her bra, trying to fit into a blouse that was too small was strangely enticing.  Once more his penis started to grow firm inside his slacks.  He gulped.  "So you bought new ones?"

The response took a moment.  "A bunch of new shirts, and some of my skirts didn't fit as well as they should.  I don't know if you noticed, but my hipline widened a little, too."

Mark's pulse quickened even more.  "Really?"

"Definitely.  I wish you were here, to feel the changes yourself.  My bottom is so soft, now."

Mark's erection was raging in his pants.  "But everything fits?"

"Well, some of it is a little tight, I'll admit--"

He didn't have time to read the rest of her response, because there was a knock on his door.  "Mark?  Are you done changing?"

"In a second, Dad," he called out, his heart leaping into his throat.  Not sure what to do, he stripped off his clothes and changed into his pajamas at the speed of sound, thankful that his penis was going limp just as quickly.  "What, um, what do you need?"

His mom's voice came through the door, as well.  "Nothing serious, honey, we just wanted to talk."

Unusually, Mark felt a touch of trepidation.  What could they want to talk about?  Normally talks with his parents were great learning experiences, but something about their tone, and the situation they had almost caught him in, was making him nervous.  "We'll be in the den when you're ready."

They were sitting on the couch side-by-side, their legs pressed together, looking strangely uncomfortable.  Why would they be uncomfortable.  "Sit down, son," Mr. Peterson said, beckoning at the easy chair he normally occupied.

"Um, thanks," Mark said, sitting.

His mom gave him the strangest smile.  "We need to talk to you about something very important, Mark."

"What is it, Mom?"

"It's about Jenny."

Mark's heart turned ice cold.  For reasons unknown to him, he tried to hide it, keeping his expression curious.  "What about her?"

"Son," Mark's father said, "we think you know.  We got a call from her mother this afternoon while you were at work, explaining how she's been acting up."

"I don't think she's been acting--"

"Let us finish, son.  Now, I know you have your heart set on going to Kenworth, coming back with a degree and a job, and marrying Jenny, but frankly, we're a little concerned.  She may not be the right woman for you."

"What?" Mark asked, surprised at the sharpness to his voice.  "I know she's the right woman for me!"

His parents, infuriatingly, chuckled.  "Now Mark," Mrs. Peterson said, "we all know that isn't true."

"When you meet the right woman, you'll definitely know," Mr. Peterson chimed in, patting his wife on the leg and looking into her eyes.  "Definitely."

"Well, I definitely know!" Mark said, "And I don't like that you're implying that just because Jenny is acting a little differently than her parents would like that I need to find a new girl!"  He found himself standing and wasn't sure how he got there, but suddenly his parents were looking up at him.

"Mark, it's not that she's acting differently.  Her mother said she has her heart set on going to Kenworth to stay with you, and I think we all know that isn't the best--"

"'ISN'T THE BEST'!?" Mark found himself shouted.  "WHY ISN'T IT THE BEST?  WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT?  WE'RE IN LOVE, SHE'S SMART, WE'RE GOING TO GET MARRIED!  WE WANT TO STAY TOGETHER!"

"Mark, calm down--"

"NO!" he screamed.  "YOU ALWAYS THINK YOU KNOW WHAT'S BEST, BUT YOU COULD BE WRONG ABOUT ANYTHING, AND YOU'RE DEFINITELY WRONG ABOUT THIS!"

That warmth that Jenny had described, that intense feeling, he hadn't really known what to make of it before.  But now that he was feeling it, Mark knew that he wouldn't have described it as a warmth.  It was a burning fire, a pleasure he couldn't explain running through his body and lighting him up in a way that felt better than anything he had ever felt.  He looked down at his parents, holding hands on the loveseat, and realized how unimportant they were, now that he was an adult.  He was about to graduate.  He probably had a full-ride scholarship to an accredited university, definitely had a girl who was in love with him, and his parents could... could go suck eggs!

And with a tiny burst inside of him, he suddenly realized that his pajamas were a little tight, and his parents looked just a little bit further below him than before.

Mark turned on his heel and stomped up the stairs to his room.

The erection in his pants felt like the strongest and heaviest erection he had ever had, nothing like what he sometimes woke up to.  He didn't know why, but when he slammed his door behind him, his pajama pants were suddenly on the ground and he was sitting in his office chair, both of his hands stroking his cock.  It looked almost bigger than it had ever been before, and he nearly wrapped both hands on the shaft as his stroking turned to pumping.  It just felt so good.

With visions of naked Jenny, her plump breasts bouncing on her abdomen, her round bottom shaking for only his pleasure, he masturbated for the first time and realized, no, that feeling of rebellion was only the SECOND best feeling in the world.

Then again, it was still a really, really DAMN good feeling.

***

The next morning Mark found more surprises in store.  First of all, his clothes definitely all felt a little tight, not just his pajamas.  His school slacks were revealing a tiny bit of his socks, and something didn't sit right between his shoulders.  He stripped his shirt off and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror.  Jenny had gone through changes when she had stood up to her parents, so why shouldn't he?  It took a moment of looking, but there was definitely a change: his chest, previously just a fairly normal one, now had a bit of definition in it.  And if he flexed his arms (something he had never thought to do before, especially not naked) he was definitely pretty muscular there, too.

He liked it a lot.

He also liked that he was apparently a bit taller, and that his underpants felt tighter than they ever had before, meaning that he was probably right and his, um, his sex organs had gotten in on the growth.

The next surprise was that his parents were following suit with Jenny's and hardly even acknowledged his existence at breakfast.  He had a plate and bowl of cereal set out, but their faces were set into grim lines and he went off for school without even a word from them.

He liked that a lot, too.  Frankly, he realized he was tired of getting bossed around by adults.

When Mark stepped onto the school courtyard it was with a new confidence, something he wasn't sure he had ever felt.  Sure, before, he was the popular kid, everyone would nod or greet him when he walked past, and he would cheerfully say hello back.  But this time he felt the power of the moment, realizing just how many people were in the school, how many kids looked up to and respected him.  It was with a new awe they looked at him, most of them not even realizing that he was a tiny bit taller, a tiny bit more filled out, looking a little more like a leader.  They just felt that magnetism to him.  Most of the kids who had judged him the day before because of the way that slut of a girlfriend of his now looked (having forgotten that she had previously been the most popular girl in school) were now reconsidering Jenny, wondering if maybe she had gotten the idea from Mark.  And heck, if Mark had come up with it, it couldn't be too bad an idea, could it?

His group was waiting in that same corner of the courtyard, all of them chatting cordially with Jenny, obviously having gotten over the initial shock of her new developments.  When Mark stepped in they all had a slight double-take.

"Sup?" Mark asked, letting a very sly smiled spread across his lips.

"Uh," James said.  "What's 'sup' with you?  You look, um..."

"--different," Catherine finished, her huge eyes almost taking up half of her head in wonder.

Mark felt a hand trace its way across his tight shirt as Jenny embraced him from the side.  "I like it," she cooed.

"This is crazy!" Nicole said.  "How are you two doing that?"

Mark grinned.  "It's easy, once you figure it out."  He turned to look at Jenny who was beaming up at him, and he was pleased to realize he had a very nice view down the front of her shirt.  Nervously he averted his eyes.  There were some things you just didn't do.

"Well how do you do it?" James asked, nearly jumping up and down.  "Tell us!"

Jenny's arms tightened around Mark's thicker abdomen and he felt something stiffen in his trousers.  "Should we tell them, honey?" she said, playfully.

"I guess we should," Mark sighed.  "They are our friends."

"And some of us have to get to cheerleading practice," Nicole added, pointedly.

"Well," Jenny said, "I'm not sure how it was for Mark, but I did it by yelling at my parents."

The other three stared at them.  "That's it?" James asked.  "But... but..."

Mark shrugged.  "I don't know how it happened.  I mean, who would think of yelling at their parents, right?"

Nicole stomped her foot.  "That's impossible!  No way did you yell at your parents."

"And that's not all," Mark continued.  "I wasn't just yelling at them.  I was telling them what I was going to do."

"And they listened?" Catherine squeaked.

It was Jenny's turn to shrug.  "Well, they didn't argue."

"Wow," James said.  "So it WAS a rebellion.  You rebelled against your parents, and now you get to do what you want, and you, you know, you changed!"

"Certainly looks that way," Mark laughed, grinning back down at Jenny.  And then he did something crazy.  Something almost unbelievable.  He leaned down and kissed her.

But it wasn't the normal, peck on the lips kiss.  It was a long, full one, like they saw in the movies sometimes.  Just as surprisingly, Jenny didn't freak out or fight back, but even did one of the strangest things Mark had ever experienced: she darted her tongue between his lips, just quickly.

The bell was ringing when they came up for air, not noticing their three friends (and a small crowd) watching them.  But they weren't being watched by judging or angry eyes; no, they were being watched by interesting, curious, almost jealous ones.

The rebellion was only starting.

***

There was a definite atmosphere at the school for the rest of that day, the students buzzing and chattering away at something that the teachers were never quite able to catch.  The lounge sat with an almost uneasiness, although none of the staff could say why.

"Did anyone notice anything different about Mark Peterson today?" Mr. Lundquist, the math teacher, asked.  The adults in earshot all either gave a curious quirk of their heads or seemed to disappear into thought.  "He seemed... I don't know.  Bigger?"

"It's something to do with that girlfriend of his, that Jenny Barlow," Miss Jennings said.  "You've all seen how she dresses now, with her bosom all on display!"

"Is she breaking any uniform rules, Trudy?" asked Mr. Hawkinson, the principal.  He sighed at the stammered response from the home ec teacher.  "I thought not.  There's not much we can do about it, then."

There wasn't much they could do about it, but something seemed on the verge of happening.  Almost whenever a staff member told a student to do something, they would get the strangest look, one of hunting caution, before being obeyed.  Even from the mildest of students, like Catherine Fujimoto.  She always seemed to be off with her boyfriend, who, by no coincidence, was the best friend of Mark Peterson.

The only teen who didn't seem affected by the rumors and conversations flitting through the school was Nicole Finnigan.  As usual, she was too absorbed in all of her extra-curricular activities and school work to even talk to anyone besides Jenny for the entire day.

The idea was there, though, planted in her mind, just as it was in every student's mind.  Some of them, the ones with the least amounts of friends, or the highest degree of separation from Mark and Jenny, only got the most basic of idea on what the revolution was about.  But others... they had other plans.

Nicole went home without a plan, other than doing her homework.  On Wednesdays she didn't have any after-school activities, meaning she got the most time to study after school.  Studiously she sat on the couch, her math book and papers spread out in front of her, while her mom worked away in the kitchen.  At about 4pm, as was usual, she felt her stomach start to growl.  She had only the thinnest of lunches every day: a few rice cakes and a piece of fruit, so she was normally pretty hungry by the time dinner rolled around.  And still she had the smallest portions possible then, just trying to get the nutrients she needed for a healthy mind and body.

It was routine to be hungry by that time, in other words.  So routine that Nicole normally just pushed it out of her mind and pressed onward.

Not today, though.  Today it kept coming back, nagging at her like a fly buzzing around her head, only this fly was in her stomach and was growing bigger and bigger by the minute.  Eventually the pangs were just too much for her to take, so, not even really thinking about it, she stood up and briskly walked back to the kitchen.

"Oh!  Hello, dear," Mrs. Finnigan said, looking up from the cookie sheet she was spreading with butter.  "You startled me!  You normally don't even move until dinner time.  Is something wrong?"

Nicole leaned against the counter island, leaning over it to look over the rim of the mixing bowl sitting on the countertop.  "I'm just hungry, I suppose," she said.

Nicole's mother was a little thrown.  She wasn't used to her daughter acting this wishy-washy.  "Well," she said, composing herself and putting on her "I'm your mother and you know you must listen to me" voice.  "You know what happens to girls who eat when it isn't meal time."

"But mom--"

"Don't speak to me in that informal tone, young lady."

"Fine.  But 'mother', I can't concentrate.  I don't think that one snack will hurt."

Her mom put down the stick of butter, planted both hands on the counter, and gave the sternest look she had ever given.  "Nicole Gretchen Finnigan, I don't know what has gotten into you, but I don't like it.  If you start eating now, what will stop you from continuing to eat and continuing to eat until you get so fat they kick you off of the cheerleading squad and you fail out of school and you have no friends?  Well?"

"I don't think that one snack will do all of that, mother," Nicole said, a strange steel rising in her voice as a strange, sneering look rose on her mother's face.

"Go.  Sit.  Work," Mrs. Finnigan said.

A steady heat began filling up Nicole's face as she felt a similarly sneering look distort her features.  "NO," she said.  "No.  You know what?  I don't even CARE!  I don't CARE IF I GET FAT!"  Her mother reacted as if she had been slapped.  "THAT'S RIGHT," Nicole said, straightening herself up.  "The cheerleading squad may kick me out, but I don't even care!  They're mostly stuck-up snobs anyway!  And studying?  I don't give two hoots about that!  I know all of the material, I'm going to get the best grades in the school, and it won't even matter because I'm going to go to that STUPID community college!  And they won't care if I'm fat there, either!"  Her eyes sprang to the cookie dough bowl and she saw her mother's mouth shape into a huge "no," but it was too late.  Nicole grabbed at it, stuck her hand into the cool, soft mix, and shoved a good handful into her mouth.

"Mmnnnnnmgh," she said, chewing and swallowing as quickly as she could, anxious to get some food into her stomach.  "It's soooooooo goooooood."  And, with an almost righteous warmth, she felt her school blouse grow tighter around the middle, her school skirt grow smaller around her waist.  She threw the bowl back onto the counter and sucked at the tips of her sticky fingers as the buttons on her blouse started to stain, her face growing a tiny bit heavier.  When she turned to trounce back to the couch, she felt the rest of her body bounce in a way that was quite pleasing.

Her mother didn't say a word for the rest of the night.

It had been an unplanned event for Nicole, her personal rebellion, but James and Catherine were both similarly excited to go home and try it out themselves.  Their meetings with her respective parents went almost identically, as well.

It started out a normal enough night for both of them.  James cheered on Catherine from the sidelines as she ran her usual laps.  If he had timed her, which he never did because it got tiring doing that every day, he would have found that she was breaking all of her old records.  There was too much energy building up in the tiny girl.

They both went home, did their homework as usual, ate dinner, watched some television with their parents, and then dropped the bomb.

"I'm marrying James," Catherine announced to her parents in the den.

"Not until after you get back from Kenworth, young man," Mr. Withman said.

"Wrong, dad," James said.  His parents finally looked up.  "There's no reason not to.  We love each other, we're going to be together, and you can't stop us."

"What if you have babies?" Mrs. Fujimoto demanded.  "You won't know what to do about them, and that's what marriage is for, to have babies!  You need to be fully-functioning adults to have them!"

"I think I'd be able to handle being pregnant, mother," Catherine said.

Mrs. Withman looked like she was about to faint at the topics being discussed.  "But James, you don't even have a job!  If you get married and she gets, you know, she is going to have a baby..."

"Well," James said, a note of triumph in his voice, "what if she's ALREADY pregnant?"

"You are not pregnant!" Mr. Fujimoto said.  "You can't have babies until you're married!"

"You mean we can't have SEX until we're married?" Catherine screeched.  "Well we WILL.  And you can't STOP US.  YOU CAN'T!"

It was like something inside of her suddenly released its tension, some spark had finally ignited the fire.  She felt good, like she was a balloon filling up with air.  Her outburst had left her panting and she was breathing in and out with so much tenacity that it felt like the entire room was breathing with her.

Her school blouse was getting very tight around the middle.

Their eyes nearly popping out of their heads, the Fujimoto's watched their daughter's stomach push against her blouse, the hem of her skirt slip a little bit downward as her waistline expanded.  It wasn't just her belly, either; the top of her blouse was clearly getting tight around her breasts.

"I'm going over there TONIGHT," James nearly screamed.  "RIGHT NOW.  WE'RE GOING TO DO IT, WE'RE HAVING SEX.  AND YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING."

He started to stomp away from the den, and with each step he felt his back straighten, felt his stomps grow more confident.  And there was something else, too.  It was growing and tightening in his underpants, beyond the erection that he already had.  With each step he stood up straighter, it was true, but he also felt something swinging heavily in his slacks.  Oh, yes.  He was going to get that girl pregnant, alright.

They met halfway between their houses, James jogging and feeling the heavier weight of his testicles bouncing, Catherine sprinting like she was at the track, enjoying the strange lopsided way her little tummy made her feel.  She nearly jumped into his arms and he swept her around, spun around, then set her back on the ground.

"You look beautiful," he said, putting his hand on her stomach.  It only poked out a little, but it looked like a positive beach ball on the girl who had previously been as thin as a twig.  "You're not really... though, right?"

She shook her head, her grin splitting her face in two.  "I don't think so!  It just feels really heavy.  Really nice.  What about you?"

He cracked up laughing.  "I told them we were going to do it, and I think that my... my JUNK got bigger!  My BALLS weigh a ton!"  He almost cracked up at both of the naughty words, but got a perverse pleasure out of them.

The couple laughed and hugged and even kissed once before collapsing onto the wet grass.  Catherine leaned her head on his shoulder.  "We're not really going to do it, though, right?"

"Well," James said.  "Maybe later.  I don't think I feel like it right now."

It was too dark for either of them to tell, but they were both blushing a bright scarlet.

***

Mark had a very uneventful evening, mostly getting pleasure out of talking to Jenny on instant messenger while masturbating at the same time.  His parents still almost refused to acknowledge his existence, apart from feeding him, which was what Jenny confirmed.  She gave confusing reports to him about the other three's nights (there was something about Nicole getting chubby, which Mark found strangely interesting), but he was a bit too distracted by looking at himself in the mirror and stroking his penis.  It was a whole new world, this one of ignoring his parents and doing what he wanted.  He loved it.

He wanted more.

When he came down for breakfast Thursday morning, his parents, once more, ignored him.  His dad was behind the newspaper, but Mark didn't mind: he spoke through it.

"Dad, I'm going to borrow your car."

The newspaper immediately dropped.  "What was that, Mark?" Mr. Peterson asked, his voice even.

Mark gulped and almost backed down.  After all, he had had his fun.  He had gotten his way, both politically and physically, and maybe it was time to return to form.  Then he thought of Jenny, sweet, pretty, Jenny.  Jenny with her swollen ches--

No.  Jenny with her nice, juicy tits.

"You can take Mom's to work," Mark continued, an edge to his voice.  He felt an erection forming in his already tight slacks, and that familiar heat was bubbling in his stomach.

Mark's mother was glancing left and right between the two men who were staring at each other across the table.  She nervously picked up her plate and started clearing it into the trash.

Mark's father kept cool.  "That's not very reasonable, son.  You can bike to school."

"Yeah," Mark said, forcing his lips into a tight-lipped smile.  "But I don't want to.  I want your car.  And you--"  The warmth flared across his body and Mark felt everything tighten again.  His underpants, his slacks, the shoulders of his shirt, his watchband, his shoes.  In a moment his father was no longer looking across the table at him but was looking just slightly up at him, and Mark was looking down.  His erect penis was pounding against his leg, reaching further down it than before.  "--you are going to give it to me."

His father, to his credit, did not even widen his eyes.  But the keys hit the table.

Mark settled into the seat of the convertible, then made the necessary adjustment to give himself enough leg room.  His slacks were now showing a bit of leg above his socks, revealing that his calves were fully formed and muscled.  Leaning back, Mark adjusted the mirror to give himself a nice look.  He looked slightly different than he had that morning, which meant he was a far cry from how he had been at the start of the week.  Gone were the middling looks of Mark Peterson: now he looked like a muscled man, about to go into the world.  His shoulders were huge, pulling his shirt apart at the seams.  When he brought his arms up across each other the sleeves were so taught that he... he could almost...

...he grabbed at the shoulders of his sleeves and pulled, just barely, and the sleeves positively ripped off, revealing the huge biceps and triceps he had formed in the past few minutes.  His chest was still contained in the shirt, but only just: the gaps in the buttons revealed firm, ripped muscles, and, where his shirt had come untucked, he poked at balls of abdomen.  His erection stood out clearly through his slacks, no longer straining against his underpants, and reaching more than halfway to his knee. 

"Let's go to school," Mark laughed, then carefully put his seatbelt on, turned the ignition and backed the car out of the driveway.

He maybe have been a bit rebellious, but he wasn't dangerous.  Not yet.

It was a new school that Jenny found herself in when she walked the halls that morning.  Gone was the quiet order, the whispers and buzzes between the students, the careful titters and very polite flirting.  Boys and girls were kissing openly, probably fueled by her and Mark's example the previous day.  Blouses were unbuttoned, shirts untucked, slang slung about like it was something the kids of Rose Hills said every day.

Jenny was almost embarrassed.  She had thought that wearing her school skirt from her sophomore year, which was two inches shorter than her current one, would be a great way to show off the hindquarters that she had recently grown so proud of.  But now it was almost lost in the tidal wave of wild hairstyles (some of the boys had spiked theirs!) and outlandish conversations (that girl was talking about how a boy had felt up her breast, and how much she liked it!).  It wasn't that Jenny was ashamed of her fellow students, she just felt a bit lost in the crowd.  Some of the girls clearly had found the secret to enhancing their breastlines, as well, which left Jenny feeling almost jealous, like she had some title to protect.

Meeting up with Nicole certainly threw her for a loop.

The girl was, believe it or not, EATING, something Jenny almost swore she had never seen her best friend do.  And her body!  She must have put on at least fifteen pounds, maybe more.  Her tight school blouse was easily revealing the slight roll of fat puffing over the waistband of her plaid skirt, her rosy cheeks were puffed up and dimpled, showing her freckles off to the world, and her plump hands were putting what appeared to be an éclair between her lips.  The gaps between her buttons showed off soft and smooth skin and slightly overflowing brassiere cups.

"Oh hey, Jenny," Nicole said, swallowing.  "I'd stay and chat, but I have to get into my cheerleading uniform."  She disappeared down the hall, but was soon replaced by James and Catherine, who looked happier than they'd ever been.  Jenny gaped at his bulging crotch and her bulging stomach, sure, but she couldn't help noticing that Catherine's chest, just like Nicole's, was definitely greater than it used to be.

And then Mark appeared.

He was taller than anyone else in the school, that morning, with even the teachers only coming up to his nose.  He pushed through the crowd, his rippling arms and chest parting the sea of awed students.  They had thought they were being rebellious, with their spiked hair and their minor spats with their parents.  But Mark Peterson, just as before, was showing them how it was done.

The quarterback of the football team was kicking himself for not trying harder to get Mark on the team.

"Mr. Peterson!" rang out a voice, interrupting the silent exchange the grinning Mark and gaping Jenny were sharing.  It was Mr. Hawkinson, the principal.  "Where are your sleeves?"

Mark turned and looked down at the shorter, balding man.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Hawkinson, but sleeves aren't a requirement of school uniforms."

It was true.  The children of Rose Hills were ordinarily so mild-mannered, so well-behaved, that there wasn't a need to have such a rule, just as there was no rule about tucked-in shirts or fully-buttoned blouses, only a rule regulating WHAT should be worn.

While Mark explained all of this to his principal, Jenny continued to reel.  Mark had changed so much more than her, now!  She had started it all, and now here he was, head and shoulders above most of the school, his muscles moving and shifting with every move and shift he made, positively bulging out of his clothes.  Why wasn't SHE bulging out of her clothes anymore?  All she had done the night before was try on her different clothes when she should have been yelling at her parents, taking more charge of her life!

"Well FINE," Mr. Hawkinson said, stomping his foot.  "I will be talking to your parents!"  He glared at every student looking onward, his gaze finally settling on Jenny.  "And you!"  He almost staggered with surprise when she didn't quail beneath his eyes, but then pushed on.  "Button your blouse!"

Jenny returned the glare.  She felt the fire in her eyes, the burning in her chest.  "NO."  And the warmth erupted--

Her breasts surged outward, pushing her shirt apart as flesh bubbled out of nowhere.  They jiggled and bounced off of each other, filling up every molecule of space between themselves, her bra, and her shirt.  As they swelled out Mr. Hawkinson's eyes swelled with them, watching the teen's assets slowly grow larger.  Almost imperceptivity, her skirt seemed to rise along her legs, showing off more of her thighs as her rear puffed up, her legs growing a little bit juicier.  Her nipples sprang into action, showing off to the world through her skin-tight top that they, too, were growing bigger and plumper.  Jenny's eyes rolled slightly up into her head as the wonderful feeling of that spreading, growing warmth tied in with her tightening shirt.

When her breasts at last quivered to a stop, there was no chance that Jenny's blouse would ever be fully buttoned again.  The two spheres of soft, warm flesh nearly matched the size of Jenny's head, sloping gracefully away from her neck before piling up behind the straining fourth button.

"No," she said finally, stamping her foot.  It took a good thirty seconds for her chest to stop bouncing after that.

The principal gave a very obvious gulp before turning on his heel and staggering away through the crowd of students, a crowd that was staring straight at Jenny's quivering, heaving chest.  She almost quailed beneath the weight of the combined eyes, but stood her ground, firmly.

They erupted into cheers.

As the excitement and joy at a seeming tyrant put in his place died down and the teens began filing away to their various classes, Mark turned and looked down at his girlfriend, unable to hide the grin on his face.  "So you like them?" Jenny asked, coyly.

"Oh, a lot, honey," he said, pulling her into his chest for a hug before planting a quick kiss into her hair.  "But there's something else.  You just yelled at Mr. Hawkinson and changed things."

"So?" she asked, too distracted by the wonderful feeling of her pillowy chest squishing against his rock-hard chest (and stomach, to be honest; he was tall enough and she was big enough) to catch on the implications.

"So that means it doesn't have to just be our parents," he said, an almost maniacal tone playing with his vocal cords.  Jenny caught the words this time, but almost lost their meaning at Mark turned her around to hold her from behind.  The wonderful feeling of comfort in Mark's embrace, combined with the way his arms were able to rest completely on her breasts, combined with this curiously hot and warm bulge she was feeling in his slacks that her plumper-than-before thigh was leaning on...

James and Catherine shared Mark's grin as Jenny's eyes closed in strange, quiet ecstasy.

Mark wasn't the only one to notice Jenny had, once more, figured out a new way to get what she wanted.  After she had managed to tear herself away from her boyfriend and make her way to class, getting used to her new center of gravity, the tiny waves that each step would cascade through her huge, Jello-y bosom, she would see kids nudging each other and whispering.  Of course, they could have been making lewd comments about her even greater need for an extra-large brassier, but the overly-endowed girl didn't think so.  After all, how many of the girls did she pass and see that they were just barely hiding slightly larger chests than usual?  How many boys were wearing shirts that looked a tiny bit too narrow in the shoulders, or making almost subtle grabs at their groins to readjust loads that were not there previously?  Everyone looked a little bit off, and, what was more, everyone looked a little bit hungry for more.

So it wasn't exactly with surprise that Jenny heard a girl a few chairs down from her sneer at their history teacher that, no, she did not feel like passing back the results from their tests.  A glance out of the corner of her eye told Jenny all that she needed to know: the previous class suckup was either suddenly sitting up higher in her chair, or had just gained a few inches in height.  Jenny turned to say something to Nicole, who was, of course, sitting next to her, and was mildly shocked to see her munching on potato chips, dropping crumbs all over her cheerleading skirt.  The midriff-bearing top, probably the single-most revealing outfit normally seen in all of Rose Hills, revealed a soft tummy folding over the top of her pleated skirt.

"What's up?" Nicole asked, catching Jenny's look.

"Oh, nothing," Jenny said.  Then she got a wild idea.  "You know, you look really good?"

"Really?" Nicole said, looking down at her tight outfit.  "You think so?"

Jenny nodded, noting how even her best friend's arms were looking chubbier.  "Definitely."

Nicole bit into another mouthful of chips almost venomously, and Jenny was pleased to note that the slightly overweight girl looked positively happy.

The most popular girl in school was a little less happy when it came time for PE.  "I found it in the back of the school supplies when I heard about your 'condition,'" sneered Ms. Ferrel, the women's coach and PE teacher.  "You're going to need it if you're going to do any running."  She was holding what appeared to be a very short, very wide, and somewhat stiff tank top, and shaking it at Jenny.

"Running?" Jenny gasped.  "I can't run!"  She had abandoned her brand new brassiere just after homeroom, its D-cup far too small for any kind of support.  But this thing...

"If you can walk, you can run," she said, tossing what was surely an enormous athletic bra at the blond before rounding on Catherine, who had just changed into her PE clothes.  Her small pot belly was just peering out from under her white t-shirt.  "This is unacceptable, Fujimoto.  Run laps instead of playing soccer; you need to be slimmed down in time for next month's meet."

Catherine stopped.  "Excuse me?" she asked, barely reacting to Ms. Ferrel's gaping mouth at this strange response.  "I think I'd rather play soccer."

"P-play soccer?" the coach gasped, her firm voice abruptly affecting a pleading tone.  "Catherine, we need you on the team!  You're our best runner!  And there's no way you can win with this... this flab!"

Who knows what the older woman was expecting.  After all, it was something no one in Rose Hills had ever dealt with before.  But Catherine didn't back down.  Instead, her small face turning the tiniest bit red, she stared the PE teacher in the face.  "Well, then I quit the team!  And, in fact, I don't feel like doing ANY running today, for medical reasons!  Come on, Jenny."  She took the taller girl by the hand and stomped out of the locker room.

And, as Jenny watched, Catherine's belly bounced with each step, and then bounced more and more, almost like it was falling off of her torso, pushing outward over her blue shorts.  Her t-shirt rode up enough to reveal her belly button, dimpling in to the firm flesh.

"Catherine," Jenny said, staggering to keep up with her stomping friend, her breasts bouncing quite wonderfully within her straining blouse, "you're not ACTUALLY pregnant, are you?"

"Why?" Catherine said, suddenly rounding on her.  Jenny would have laughed at the sloshing of her swollen belly if it wasn't for the look of fierce pride on the girl's face.  "You think this should stop, too?  You think James and I should break up?"

"Oh, no!" Jenny said.  "No, not at all!  I think it's great!  I've never seen you so sure of yourself!  Plus," and she paused to make sure no one could be within earshot, "I kind of really want to touch your stomach.  Does it feel good?"

Catherine sighed.  "Only like the best feeling in the world.  Oh, and!"  The tiny (but not as tiny anymore) girl pulled her t-shirt, which had ridden up enough to loosely obscure her chest, tight against her breasts; they were definitely plumper and rounder than they had been that morning.  "I mean, they're nowhere near as big as yours," Catherine blushed, "but they feel sooooo good."

The two girls giggled for what seemed like the rest of the day.

The most popular boy in school, meanwhile, was having a difficult time concentrating.  Normally he would be spellbound by the teacher of whatever class he was in, raising his hand and participating and getting the grades necessary to get into Kenworth.  But today all he could picture were his girlfriend's bounteous breasts, undulating and wobbling beneath her chin.  How far would they go if she wasn't wearing that super-tight blouse?  To the bottom of her ribs?  Her belly-button?  They would certainly remain plump and ready to be squeezed, ready for his hand to touch them and feel their soft flesh...

What strange thoughts to be having, Mark distantly commented on himself, before realizing that his erection was pushing with enough strength into his pant legs to almost bump the underside of his desk.

"Mr. Peterson, would you care to come up and demonstrate your knowledge of Middle Eastern countries for the class?" the history teacher asked.

"No," Mark said, almost carelessly.  He really didn't.  And, when the class giggled as the teacher's face turned a nice shade of pink, Mark felt that burning fire in his stomach and felt that odd feeling of vertigo as his desk moved a tiny bit further away from his eyes, as his shirt grew a tiny bit more uncomfortable, as his penis at last rested against the metal of his desk, the cold not managing to cool down his burning member through his thin (and thinning) slacks.

Mark ducked his head a tiny bit, hoping that no one would notice that he was stealing these tiny bits of rebellion.  He glanced to his right to see that, no, James had definitely noticed.  His best friend was gaping at him, half in wonder, half in joy.  So, when the teacher next called on him, hoping that SOMEONE would be able to help Mark out, it was almost with an excited yell that James shouted out "no."  He then leaned back in pleasure as some strong feeling overtook him.  Mark wondered at it before noticing the gradually tenting crotch of the smaller boy's slacks, some strange load growing larger down there, possibly even larger than Mark's, if Mark wasn't in such a state that he could feel tiny streams of that hot, sticky stuff the sex ed class had called semen dribbling onto his tight and muscular leg.

Mark gripped the edges of his desk and gritted his teeth.  He had to see Jenny.

When at last the bell rang, announcing the end of the school day, Mark didn't notice the other kids in the halls.  The boy walking along half a foot taller than before, the girl whose long, lustrous hair almost brushed against her bottom, the football player who looked a lot more like a tank than the day before, the gymnast who appeared to have been lifting weights for weeks despite her previously petite appearance.  He was looking for the one girl in the school whose chest could possibly match his feelings of lust.

He found her sitting on the brick railing by the front steps, gently swinging her legs while she lightly chatted with her friends.  If he hadn't been completely entranced by the softly swaying motion having an effect on Jenny's huge chest, he probably would have noticed that Nicole, who had a candy bar in her hand, was at least ten pounds heavier than she had been that morning, her face lightly rounded out to match her noticeable muffin-top, or that Catherine, who was sitting next to Jenny, had a large enough belly that it was resting in her lap, her shirt unable to cover almost any of her stomach.  No, instead he only saw the voluptuous blonde, her cheeks dimpling as she laughed at something Catherine snarked.  This small extra movement, normally something that wouldn't cause any fuss, created a virtual avalanche down her torso as her breasts tried their hardest to escape from the confines of her tiny school shirt.  Jenny caught his staring eye and laughed even harder.

But her laughter wasn't the only thing getting harder.

"Holy crap, Catherine!" James' voice shouted from behind his best friend.  The smaller boy jogged around and stood in front of his laughing girlfriend, his hands in his hair.  "You look...  This is..."

"...awesome?" Catherine suggested.

"Beyond awesome!"  He grabbed her by the hand and nearly sprinted away, pulling an awkwardly waving Catherine after him.

Nicole crumpled up her candy bar wrapper and sighed.  "I should go, too."

"Do you have some studying to do?" Jenny asked, turning her head but not her eyes toward the chubby girl.  Her eyes were too busy drinking in her hugely muscular boyfriend, who was still standing with his mouth almost hanging to his knees.

"No, no studying," Nicole said, chuckling herself.  "There's a special at that Mongolian barbeque place that I think I might want to get in on."  She waved as she left, giving Jenny a good idea of just how much weight the cheerleader had been putting on: her skirt was riding up so high that Jenny could see the bottom of her white panties, which tiny rolls of fat were escaping out from under.  There was something strange about Nicole's weight gain that Jenny couldn't quite put her finger on...

"Are you just going to keep standing there, staring?" she said to Mark.  "I haven't gotten any bigger since this morning, I don't think."

Mark immediately snapped out of it.  "Well, does that mean I can't enjoy looking at you?"

She laughed and pushed herself off of the wall, which would have been playful if she hadn't been thrown off balance by her own new weight.  The endowed girl stumbled forward, her giant breasts doing their best to keep up, right into the strong, supportive arms of her boyfriend.  "Oh," she gasped as he pulled his arms around her.  "I haven't grown, but you have, haven't you?"

"I was hoping it wouldn't be too obvious," he grinned.  She grinned back up at him, pulling her head back so that he got a view right down into that almost foot of cleavage.  "Do you want to, I don't know, go somewhere?" Mark asked.

"What do you mean?  Don't you have work today?"

"Yeah, well, I'm feeling a little distracted."  Try very distracted, Mark thought to himself.  His penis was lengthening and hardening by the second, and he was pretty sure it was now long enough, and hard enough, to be pressing through his slacks into her bare leg, despite his towering height.

"Then where do you want to go?" she asked.

"I don't know, let's find out."  Mimicking James, he took his girlfriend by the hand and, somewhat more gently than his smaller friend, led her to the parking lot.

...which was a lot different that afternoon than it was most afternoons.  Instead of the mild crowds demurely getting into their cars and busses, students were loudly shouting at each other, playing their music at top volume, racing around and, generally, acting up.  While not all of the kids had affected bodily changes like Mark and Jenny, they did spy more than one boy with ripped-off sleeves, and many girls with very low tops.  None of them, Jenny noted, were even nearing her size, though.

The pair settled into the convertible and Jenny realized how much trouble she was going to have with seatbelts from now on.  She struggled with it for a moment while Mark fiddled with the radio, trying to find a way that it didn't smoosh her breasts into an even more uncomfortable position.  She wouldn't have made such a big deal about it, but it seemed to have been something that everyone had ever told her: wear your seatbelt.  It was just something you did.  But now she seemed to be in a position where, while it wasn't impossible, it was impossible to do it in a way that didn't feel like she was dying.

So, with a tiny scream of rage, she threw it off her, and almost immediately felt that warmth burst from within her.  Some small part of her was suddenly tossed into a state of confusion, but the rest of Jenny was too busy being excited at the spread of heat moving from her stomach to her chest, at relishing the feeling of that school blouse popping another button open.  It was only a small growth, but it was enough to send another cascade of ripples through Jenny's bosom.  As the excitement in her torso died down, Jenny noticed that her boyfriend's eyes were once more lost within her cleavage.  Jenny couldn't blame him; looking down, all she could really see was cleavage, the soft pink of her skin curving out from her shoulders until the curves smashed together.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, playfully.

"Did you just grow again?"

"I don't know," she said, keeping her tone, "but maybe you should watch the road instead of my... chest."  She had almost said "tits," but that would have been just crazy.

While she had her eyes on him instead of herself (and desperately trying to ignore how the cold air was blowing against more than a square foot of her bare chest, or how more of her bottom was touching the soft seat than she had felt before) she took some time to study Mark's new body.  He was sitting all the way back in the driver's seat, for one thing, and still looked a little scrunched in.  And his arms, which were completely bare, were huge verging on massive, at least as thick as his head.  Just like his girlfriend, he had unbuttoned most of his shirt for fear of tearing it in two with his huge chest, showing off his plate-like pecs.  Letting her eyes travel downward, Jenny was noticing how tight his slacks were when she saw what must have been pressing into her leg when Mark had held her.  Was that Mark's penis?  In the sexual education videos, it didn't look nearly as huge as that!  But she couldn't be mistaken; the slacks were so tightly wrapped against it that she could see the contours around that bulby part at the tip.  The tip that was most of the way to Mark's knee.

Seeing his thick erection, which looked to be kind of twitching and pulsing in her boyfriend's pants, made an odd warmth come over Jenny's body.  It wasn't completely unlike that heat which signified that she had done something rebellious and her body was going to change, but it wasn't quite the same.  It was more of a feeling in the pit of her stomach, but also in the top of her lungs, making her breath catch.  There was a strange tightening feeling on the tips of her breasts, and, as she absent-mindedly brushed at them with a hand, she realized it was her nipples, normally so soft and small, which were hardened and stiffened without even a cold gust of air.  And, even better, she saw what most of the school already knew: they had apparently grown with her boobs.

She let her hand linger a little longer on the front of her shirt.

And so, as Mark drove, dutifully trying to keep his eyes on the road, Jenny stared at his huge member and lightly caressed her engorged nipple, her breaths hiking a little in her throat.  It gave her this strange feeling of being a little bit... damp.  But in a good way.  And not all over her body, either.  Just... down there.  With a small gasp, Jenny realized something was happening to her that hadn't ever happened to her before: she was turned on.

The car screeched off of the road and into an abandoned parking lot, sending Jenny's breasts bouncing everywhere.  Not that there was much I can do without that happening, she giggled to herself.  No sooner had they stopped than Mark was hurdled over the stick shift (he wasn't wearing a seatbelt either, the naughty boy) and his lips were enclosed around hers.  Jenny's eyes flew open in surprise when his tongue dove in between her teeth, but then rolled up in ecstasy with the moment.  One of Mark's strong hands was behind her head, and she lifted up a hand to rest it on his bulging, flexing bicep, which was rigid with stiff, steely muscle.  His other hand, meanwhile, had found its way under her tight blouse, and caressed along the bottom of Jenny's right breast.

The mere thought that his hand could bump against her lower stomach while touching her breast made Jenny shudder in sexual excitement.

In a mysteriously expert motion, Mark blindly undid the remaining buttons of Jenny's overstrained blouse.  Her breasts, almost relieved, bounced and jiggled freely against her torso.  The pair separated for a moment, a string of saliva connecting their lips for a moment before breaking, and looked down at the glorious pair of breasts.  Unsupported, they fell down to rest on Jenny's tight tummy, nearly obscuring her belly-button.  They were still a round and pregnant teardrop shape, however, with Jenny's large nipples facing almost perfectly perpendicular to her chest, both of them most definitely larger than her head.

After this moment of peace, Mark dove right back in, they mouths meeting and noses bumping in adolescent joy, his right hand now supporting Jenny's head, his left surprisingly gently stroking her left breast, sometimes thumbing over her stiff tit.  While most of Mark was growing, his hands hadn't been, and they looked dwarfed next to the huge mamCatherine.

Their noisy macking went on for quite some time, the teens undisturbed by the muffled sounds the cars on the road provided, as the parking lot was protected by a row of pines.  After a while Jenny became aware of the red hot fire that was pressing into her left leg and realized that the erection Mark had been sporting this entire time was pressing into her.  How uncomfortable can that be? she wondered.  Mark, meanwhile, was letting his free hand slowly slide down Jenny's body, along her breastline, then dipping inward to stroke along her waist, before moving outward again on her skirted hip.  He let his hand slip under the pleats to cup her bottom, felt how tightly her panties were digging in to the fattened flesh there, and slipped his fingers over the seams--

Jenny broke away from him.  "Mark, I-- I can't."

"Hwa?" he said, half mumbling.  "Can't what?"

Her face turned a bright scarlet which traveled down her neck and enveloped most of her chest.  "Can't, you know.  Can't do IT."

"What?" Mark intoned, leaning back so quickly that, had the car not been a convertible, he would have bumped his head against the ceiling very hard.  The blush on his face mirrored Jenny's.  "I guess I wasn't even, you know, thinking about it.  I was just doing what felt good.  Hasn't that been what we've been doing all week?"

"I guess," Jenny said, looking away.  "But that might be, I don't know, too much."

"Too much?" Mark groaned.  "How can you say that!  You were the one that started all of--" But then he saw the look on her face and thought that maybe she was right.  Rose Hills had many rules.  The smaller ones, like "button up your blouse," were unspoken because they weren't really even rules.  The larger ones, like "boys go to Kenworth and girls go to the community college" were spoken about and sometimes even angrily debated between teenagers and parents before the parents won.  But the larger ones, the huge ones, weren't even spoken about.  They were implied, all right, with the single sex ed class, and several heavily censored Bible passages, but never talked about out loud.  Because all of the teens knew them.  They knew the rules.  And they know how big of a line they would be crossing if they broke it.

And so Mark settled back into the driver's seat, Jenny buttoned up her blouse as best she could, and he drove her home.  Because they were not the kind of teens to break that rule.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" James asked Catherine.  They were lying in James' hatchback on the down comforter he had spread out, the small boy's arms wrapped around the even smaller girl, one of his hands resting on her protruding belly.  "I mean, we've been breaking rules all week, but this one..."

"Oh, I'm sure of it," Catherine purred as she turned around to straddle him.  James' school shirt was already unbuttoned, his thin torso humorously mirroring his best friend's barrel chest, although neither of them knew that they were in very similar situations at that moment.  Very similar, but nearly opposite.  For one, if Mark had thought about it, making out in the back of a station wagon would be a lot more comfortable than the passenger seat.

Catherine's belly bulged out from under her school blouse and hovered an inch from James' bare stomach.  The tiny Asian girl bit her lip in excitement as she settled down, her hot tummy at last resting against his cool, tight abs.  But what was more exciting was what she felt under her bottom, through her skirt: that mysterious, lumpy package that awaited her in James' school slacks.  As she put more weight on it, she felt it shift around and press against her in interesting ways.

"Oh God," James swore, sucking in a breath.

"Is that hurting you?" Catherine quickly asked.

"No," he reassured, then twitched again.  "Well, kind of, but I like it."

Catherine grinned.  "Me, too."  She reached her hands up from her legs and began unbuttoning her blouse from the bottom.  "Do you like this, too?"  As James looked on, first the top of her curving belly was revealed, then her fattened breasts, bulging from the top of her bra cups.  After she had pulled the shirt off, she undid her bra from behind and released her bosom, letting the red and strained-looking breasts rest against the top of her belly.  They were enormous, that was for sure.  Not by the new scale Jenny had been setting, but they were positively huge for a girl that had not even been a B-cup two days prior.

"I definitely like that," James smiled fiercely back, lifting a hand up to cup the soft skin of her boob.

Catherine's eyes closed instinctively to the feel of his cold fingers, but she drew in a shuddering, excited lungful before continuing.

"Then I think you're definitely going to like this next part," she said as she shifted smoothly back onto knees, letting her hands fall to the boy's belt.  Once it was released, she pulled, oh-so-gently, on his slacks, back over his hips, past his crotch, to his thighs and then knees, refusing to look even near his groin for fear of spoiling the surprise.  When at last the slacks were off of his feet, pushed by a very careful foot, so as not to disturb his questing hands, Catherine looked to where James' legs joined and gasped in amazement.

This was not at all like what the sex ed tape had shown them.

A bulging, red penis protruded out from the leg of James' white briefs, pointing off to the right side of the car, its tip so filled with blood that it was almost purple.  Catherine's mouth fell open looking at the thing.  The one in the video, the single erect penis she had ever seen, hadn't looked too big; maybe five inches.  But this was at least seven inches, maybe even eight, a size that Catherine had trouble picturing fitting inside her.

But it wasn't James' penis that most surprised Catherine.  No, what made her jaw drop was the rest of him, filling up his white briefs to the breaking point and overflowing the space between his legs.  In other words, James' testicles, or balls, as Catherine had only heard once before the previous night, when a boy had been struck by a stray baseball.  But these balls were bigger than baseballs.  Bigger than softballs, even, if she had to guess.  The skin around them was stretched transparent, the hair that she would guess should cover them barely pocking their surface.

"Oh, James," Catherine whispered.  "Why?"

James shrugged as best he could.  "I don't really know.  I mean, I imagine I didn't consciously decide any more than you did.  But they produce s-sperm, right?  Which is needed to get pregnant.  And just like you I figured if you were pregnant nobody would dare split us--"

He was interrupted by a furious kiss, the tiny girl's chest and stomach pressing into his as his erection sprung up between her legs.

They separated just long enough for Catherine to lean back and pull her skirt and both of their pairs of underwear off.

"Then make me pregnant, you idiot," she said, not unhappily, and guided the pulsing member into her own wet nethers.

Calmly, slowly, they rode together, gently guiding each other out of their virginities.

It was supposed to hurt, Catherine thought.  Or at least be difficult.  But instead she felt a simple electricity, almost like a charge, go between the two teens as they came together.  Catherine didn't feel immediate pleasure, more like a deep... fulfillment.  And a heavy satisfaction that she was never going to leave James, no matter what their parents said.

And then a spreading heat, originating from somewhere behind her stomach and pulsing outward.  Now that was pleasurable, a deeply springing pleasure that shook her core and made her cry out as her hips began bucking and speeding up the pair's slow tempo.  With an abrupt force her first orgasm hit her.  Pure electricity ran down Catherine's spine, causing her to arch her back, her full breasts and belly heaving with her before settling heavily down, then springing back up with the next cycle.  She was shaking and crying out, her black hair flinging about her face as she rode her boyfriend, who only stopped himself from yelling in equal force by affecting a face of grim concentration.

James could feel something building up and stirring within the gigantic lobes he called his testicles.  Somewhere in the base of his penis there was something burning and raging, but he fought against it, knowing that, once it went, it would all be over.

And then, at nearly the same time, both teens realized that Catherine's stomach was slowly inching higher and higher on James' chest, growing fatter and heavier with each bounce.

Shouting, screaming, roaring over the edge, James at last came.  His hips shot rigid at once as his prostate spasmed once... twice... over and over again James spewed semen into his girlfriend, filling every space within her possible and spraying out in the meantime, coating the comforter.  And, strangely, all he could think was "I'll show you, Mom.  You'll see, Dad."

His astronomically intense orgasm almost masked that burning feeling that suddenly rushed from the pit of his stomach, but he couldn't miss that sensation of suddenly filling Catherine completely up, of her tiny gasp of recognition, of the even more intensified spray of semen, and especially of the bulging, pulsing growth of his testicles.

And so, covered in the flood of James' sticky white fluid, the two lovers grew and swelled up in each other's grasps.

It was a sad sigh that Catherine gave when at last she could no longer feel her skin stretching and widening under her fingers.  It was already a strange feeling to inflate a balloon and try to hold it in your palm; it was a stranger feeling still to hold something alive and warm and human.  She looked down, still shuddering with aftershocks of her orgasm, and realized that, with the combined volume of her huge, ballooned breasts and positively massive stomach, she could only barely see the face of James.  She closed her eyes and gathered her feet under her, trying to use her arms for balance and finding that they just weren't long enough.  At last she lifted herself off of her boyfriend, shifted her weighty stomach to a more comfortable position next to him, and let herself fall sideways.  Despite having spoken no plan, James turned himself at the same time, gracefully cradling the small girl, who was now attached to a much larger package, spoon against his chest.  He could feel his penis, now mostly soft but still slowly releasing fluids, slap stickily against her warm, tender leg.  

How big are my balls now? he distantly wondered, his eyes closing in exhaustion.  He let his free arm wander over Catherine's shoulder, stroking against her huge bump before settling around her chest.  He cupped one breast, now too big for his hand, and somehow firm.  Everything felt perfect to Mark and his mind slowed down, gently drifting off.

"That was great," Catherine said so softly that he almost didn't hear it from dreamland.  He made a soft, reassuring noise, hoping she would just let him sleep.

"But there was something strange about it."

"What's that?" he sighed, accepting that he wouldn't be getting any extra sleep until listening to her.

"Where are the adults?"

"Nowhere around here, I hope," he chuckled.

"That's not what I mean, stupid," she said playfully, lightly slapping his breast-hand.  "I mean, before, with all of our growths, we were directly rebelling against an adult.  But this time..."

"...no one's here," he finished for her.

"So what does it mean?"

"I'm not sure," James said.  "But I can't really say I don't like it."

And Catherine, snuggling in between her boyfriend, his giant balls, and her overstuffed belly, couldn't argue against that.

***

After Mark had dropped Jenny off, offering one last longing look at her plump behind still squeezed in to her sophomore-sized skirt, he drove off to start his job a little later than usual.  Jenny, meanwhile, didn't have any homework and didn't feel like studying, but she did have a few ideas on how to spend her time.

She took her mom's keys, not bothering to ask, and drove most of the way out of Rose Hills to a department store.  She would have shopped closer to town, but, the further from city center you get, the less likely you are to find the ultra-conservative clothing that everyone in Rose Hills wore.  It wasn't that Jenny wanted something completely risqué, just a little less... concealing.

As Jenny walked through the aisles in the women's department, reflecting on how strange it had been to reach around her breasts for the steering wheel, she realized that this store even had pants in women's sizes!  That was something you almost never saw in Rose Hills, trousers on a girl.  Jenny poked through the options, finally getting to something that made her eyes pop open in desire: denim jeans.  Just like that girl in the Kenworth picture!  Jenny snatched a few pairs off of the shelf and clutched them to her prodigious bosom before scurrying into a changing room.  For once she didn't notice the stares of all of the other people around her, watching the girl with the titanic breasts bounce her way along: she was so focused on those pants that nothing could distract her.

It shouldn't have been a surprise to Jenny that the first couple pairs she tried were too tight to fit up her plumpened thighs, but she still nearly gasped when she took a look at the tag of the pair that fit her, quite snuggly, too, and realized that she had 38-inch hips.  She looked at herself in the mirror and saw that, yes, below her waist her hips nearly popped out.  She turned around and looked at her round, protruding bottom and felt some excitement welling up inside her.  Yes, this was definitely what she had wanted when she looked at that picture from Kenworth.  Something exciting to show off.  She took a few experimental steps around the changing room, her eyes not leaving the mirror, and saw that it wasn't just her chest that now jiggled and wiggled with every step: her butt did, too.

Giggling at the naughtiness of the word "butt," Jenny set back out into the store to find a top and, hopefully, a fitting bra.

The latter seemed an impossibility, something that depressed Jenny's aching back.  She loved her new chest, you couldn't get her wrong, but there was this place in her lower back that was just killing her, and she had a feeling it wouldn't be going away for a while.  After some serious cajoling with the assistant, however, she was able to find some overstock brassieres from a specialty seller that were just a tiny bit too tight for Jenny, at 30M.  Apparently the department store's parent company required them to stock bras up to J-cup, though the saleswoman said that she had never seen anyone require a bra that big, something that made Jenny blush with pleasure.  The feeling of finally having some support besides a tiny school shirt was a great relief to the girl, and she noted, with a gleam in her eye, that while she was doing a lot less bouncing around, she still had almost a foot of cleavage sticking out in front of her!

Tops were, if possible, even harder to find: the ones that were big enough to cover her breasts billowed out below, clearly made for a plus-sized woman, while anything that was elastic enough to cling to her definitely wouldn't stretch over her breasts.  Finally, at last, she spotted a top that fit her requirements exactly: two thin shoulder straps, a valley of a neckline, and a material that was wrapped strangely in front, probably to give a loose and billowy effect for a girl with a normal chest size.  On Jenny, though, it worked out so that she had a clinging, tight garment all across her top.  The only slight problem was that it was a tiny bit too short, it seemed, revealing a good two-inch gap between the top of her jeans and the bottom of her shirt!

Then again, she did really like how it looked on her.  It looked TOO good, almost.  As if it had been made for her.

Bah, she thought to herself, parents be... be DAMNED.  I'll wear and show off what I like!

A flare of heat suddenly appeared in the girl's core as she stomped her foot, and her top grew a little bit tighter around the chest, her jeans a little bit tighter around her hips.  She blushed in the mirror, then grinned wickedly.  She was going to have to be careful.

Or not.

Mark certainly wasn't feeling careful when he came home from work that night, slamming the door behind him, grabbing his plate off of the table and stomping up the stairs to his room.  His parents didn't say a word at this odd behavior, and didn't seem to notice that their son was still bigger than he had been that morning.

At his job he hadn't been able to get his mind off of his girlfriend and how close they had come to breaking that final, imposing rule.  He hadn't been able to get his mind off of her so much, in fact, that his erection had started coming and going in waves.  He would be able to get distracted, work on bagging or chatting at the gaping elderly folk, then he would see something (like an ad for gelatin mix or a stray brassiere strap) and think of those luscious globes attached to the front of the girl he was in love with and whoops!

He didn't get talked to by his boss about his prominent problem.  But the hard looks, tsking sounds and mutters behind his back were enough to set the boy on edge.

To Mark's surprise, James wasn't online in their instant messenger.  It didn't take Mark two guesses to think of the correct reason why; he had seen the weight James was lugging around in his pants, and the hungry look on both James' and Catherine's faces as they sprinted away from the school that afternoon.  They had probably done it.

IT.  The big one.

Mark pounded his fist on his desk, an act that pulled a few bolts through the wood from his sheer strength, though the boy didn't notice.  His boner was killing him, there were two easy solutions, and he desperately wanted one over the other.  The anger was welling up inside him, bidding him to-- him to--

Swear.

"SHIT.  SHIT FUCK GOD DAMN COCK-SUCKING BITCH-TITS MOTHERFUCKER SHIT SON OF A WHORE DICK LICKER!" The words poured out between his gritting teeth as he unzipped his (new, much better fitted) slacks.  And, as they poured out, a very familiar feeling also welled up inside him, filling him with a hot energy.

Mark looked down at the erection held between his hands, at the hot and hard penis that was longer than most summer sausages he had seen, thicker than the single can of beer his dad would have with dinner.  And, as he looked, as his muscles contracted at once as they swelled just a tiny bit bigger, he saw his member stretch out a little bit more, could feel his fingers open up to hold it as it thickened.  It felt so good, so RIGHT as it grew bigger, so wonderful that he almost didn't notice that, just like with Jenny in the car, he hadn't even been talking to anyone when he grew, this time.

It must have been over a foot long.  And still she wouldn't have sex with him.

Furiously, Mark masturbated, before collapsing onto his loudly complaining, and slowly sinking lower, bed.

At that exact same time, Jenny arrived home from her trip, dropped the keys onto the table, and ignored her parents' eyes as she bounced upstairs, humming.

James, at one point, woke up to realize that his parents were probably wondering where he and Catherine were before he realized he didn't care, and began to fall back asleep to a warm rushing noise in his ears as that heavy package he called a scrotum filled up even larger behind his legs.

Yup, he thought, as he rubbed Catherine's protruding belly with one hand to her soft moans of delight, and he was finding it even hard to care every moment.

***

The next morning, in the teacher's lounge, the situation was reaching dire status.

"I can't even speak!" one teacher said.  "I nearly cried from joy when I got through two sentences without being interrupted!"

"She's right, it's almost as if they WANT to disobey us!" another agreed.

Mr. Lundquist held up his hands.  "Calm down, calm down.  I'm fairly certain they're just going through a rebellious phase."

"All at once?" came a shouted response.

"Well, that's improbable, sure, but it's probably just some popular kids that started it.  Don't you all remember doing the exact same thing when you were in high school?"

"I'm fairly certain I didn't grow taller when I did, though," one short teacher wryly commented to his neighbor.

Miss Jennings spoke up.  "I told you the other day, it's that Jenny Barlow!  She started all of this!  You saw her yesterday, when Frank tried to punish her for that brash display of... of cleavage!"

There were gasps at her vulgarity, but also nods and mutters.

Mr. Lundquist looked at the gathered teachers.  "Where is Mr. Hawkinson, anyway?"

No one knew.  He had disappeared after Thursday's events.

The empty halls almost burst with noise, seemingly all at once, as teens rushed in to the school.

"Why do they even keep coming?" Ms. Ferrel moaned.

"To see each other, I suppose."

And see each other they did.  It was like a school assembly had been held saying that all public displays of affection were perfectly fine in Rose Hills High as of that morning.  Lips locked, bottoms were groped, zippers unzipped for a few moments of teasing before being zipped back up.

James almost couldn't believe it.  "This is crazy," he said, hiking his pants up again.  He had snuck back home that morning to borrow a pair of his dad's slacks.  His dad, who was pretty overweight, liked to wear his slacks high, which meant they had a long crotch and a wide waist.  It was perfect for James, who just had to roll up the cuffs a bit more than usual.  A lot more than usual, actually, but James didn't mind: it meant he could wear pants that fit his testicles.  His underwear had been another matter, and he definitely required some sort of support for his swollen, stuffed scrotum, but he made do with a t-shirt that he tied closed at the neck and then put on upside down, with his legs in the arm holes.  It did a pretty decent job, but hey, when your testicles are approaching the size of well-filled basketballs, you needed to take some strange measures.  He still needed to waddle, but he didn't mind: so did Catherine.

"I think that it's awesome," she proclaimed from her seat on the school bench next to their lockers.  Catherine was probably going to do a lot more sitting than standing, after that night in the car: seated, her belly nearly reached her knees, spreading her legs apart.  She couldn't help running her hands over it, feeling her smooth, round, flawless skin.  Catherine had NOT returned home, instead going with the "Jenny" style of dressing: that is, wearing a school blouse that was far too small for her, admiring the way that it showed off her new body.  And, indeed, few people passed by without staring at her stomach, with its belly button that remained an "innie," far too large to even try to conceal under her blouse, which was instead having its own problems holding in her ballooned breasts.  She had taken a look at them before trying to enclose the buttons, and they were crisscrossed with strange, thin, blue veins.

The strange thing was, Catherine was sure she hadn't been this big this morning.  Well, she had almost been this big, but then a number of different things had taken place, including deciding not to even bother checking in with her parents, and then she thought she had felt that warm feeling that meant she was growing, and now that she was looking back over herself...

"Where are Mark and Jenny, anyway?"

Mark was driving to school, and he was doing it angrily.  But it wasn't because he was particularly angry at anything, although he was still kind of annoyed at Jenny.  He was angry because it felt good to be angry.

He reached for the stick shift, feeling the muscles in his arm bulge and contract as he did so.  It was getting harder to move around in the small convertible, a thought that he didn't find particularly distressing.  In fact, when he stopped at a crosswalk to let an old lady cross, he could have sworn she gave him a dirty look.  Mentally telling her to fuck herself, he gunned the engine and took off, missing her by inches.

And was sure he felt that mysterious fiery heat, just behind his stomach.  And was sure he felt his seatbelt get tighter, the rearview mirror get a tiny bit lower, the door to his left press closer.  And, yes, his raging, pulsing hard-on push closer to the crook of his knee.

He had jerked off twice that morning and only managed to get rid of it for an hour before his erection had come raging back.

The convertible screeched into a parking space at the school, which Mark almost didn't notice was in complete chaos.  The student body, if he had been paying attention, had finally settled down with changing their bodies and were more focused on just rebelling to annoy the teachers.  Mark, now standing at an easy six foot eight, could see above almost everyone, but didn't spot his target.

"Where's Jenny?" he asked James, who had finally taken a seat next to his girlfriend and was plenty distracted by a combination make-out and breast-grope session.  Her arm, for the record, was elbow-deep into James' fly, doing something that was making him snort, until a wet patch appeared on her blouse, right on the tip of the breast he was handling.

"So that's what that's about," Catherine said in wonder as their mouths, at last, disconnected.  She lifted her eyes back to her boyfriend's.  "Milk me some more!"

James' response, and Mark's attempted interruption, was cut short by the doors of the school opening and a hush falling across the crowd.  The trio turned to see students parting and an almost heavenly glow silhouetting a figure standing in the doorway.  When at last the doors closed, the strangely-shaped shadow was revealed to be none other than Jenny Barlow herself.

And she wasn't wearing her school uniform.

Hips swaying, hair fluttering, breasts bouncing merrily away, Jenny walked, no, strode, in two-inch heels, down the hall, her sights on one muscular boy.  Her round, plump breasts, now taking up the majority of her top half and big enough to obscure her arms, were nearly popping out of that golden-green top she had discovered yesterday.  They hung down almost far enough to conceal the fact that her top was too short by far, as the entire student body could see her belly-button!  And, most scandalously of all, Jenny wasn't wearing a skirt.  No, far from it: she was wearing tight, revealing, denim trousers.  It was something every boy there, and more than a few girls, appreciated with wolfish looks in their eyes, for Jenny's bottom was a sight to behold in those pants.

There were many girls at Rose Hills High wearing scandalous outfits that day, but none so trashy, so amazing, so rebellious as Jenny Barlow.

She stopped next to her boyfriend, breasts heaving and quivering.  Mark knew he was starting to sound like a broken record, but the words "You're a lot bigger today" were on his lips when Jenny spoke up.

"Has anyone seen Nicole?  I need to talk to her about something."

Nicole?  James, Catherine, and Mark all exchanged glances.  Why would Jenny need Nicole?

"Never mind, I have a good idea where she is."

And, as Mark looked on longingly, Jenny marched away.  Her pendulous bosom was so wide that he could see both breasts clearly from behind.

Jenny had a lot of things to ignore as she walked on her way.  The stares and utter silence was one thing.  The teachers, rushing up before sighting their quarry and immediately shutting up, were another.  The tightness in her chest caused by her too-small bra, which had been steadily growing tighter since her decision to not wear a uniform had first occurred, was a third, and tied in with the tightness in her upper legs.  But she desperately needed to know something.

She threw open the doors to the cafeteria and was greeted with a small crowd, all of them focused around a single table.  At the sound of her heels, they all looked up, then moved away so Jenny could see what they an audience to.

It was Nicole, alright.

Her cheerleading uniform, or, at least, the most elastic parts, still clung to her frame, trying desperately to prevent her from embarrassment.  But Nicole looked like she was far from embarrassment: from the smile on her face as she bit into another school cheeseburger, she was the happiest she had ever been.

The cheeseburger soon disappeared into Nicole's waiting mouse, her plump lips sucking her chubby fingers clean, before she reached for another on the tray in front of her.  Her gigantic, fat-filled breasts, distending the RH on her uniform beyond any kind of recognition, sat heavily on the table, and required her to reach over them.  Her huge arm, quivering with more fat than Jenny would have guessed Nicole had in her entire body three days ago, was more than willing to make the extra distance.  As the redhead leaned back, Jenny saw the shifts in her body, the fat sliding back into place.  Her belly clearly put Catherine's to shame, nearly reaching to the floor in one huge, soft lobe, spreading her legs apart.  Her legs which seemed as thick as tree trunks leading up to a saggy, soft behind that hung over the back of the bench of her table, the butt cheeks spreading out several feet in both directions.

In a word, Nicole Finnigan was fat.

"Nicole," Jenny said, as gently as possible.  Nicole looked up, the glaze leaving her eyes immediately.

"Oh, Jenny!" Nicole beamed.  "What's going on?  You look great!"

Jenny couldn't help blushing.  "Thank you.  You look very... happy."

"Oh, but I am," Nicole said, closing her eyes and smiling to demonstrate.  Her chubby cheeks squeezed out from her face with the effort.  "I came back after the restaurant closed and never even left last night!"

"I could guess," Jenny said.  "I have a question for you."

"What's that?"

"In all of this, you know, excitement, from the last few days, did you ever say anything to any adults?"

"You mean besides my mom?  I told you about that one."

"Yeah, besides that."

Nicole thought for a moment, her eyes travelling up into a corner of her head.  Jenny realized, despite her extreme obesity, there was something about Nicole that was still very pretty.  Maybe once she got some new, better-fitting clothes...

"No, I don't think so."

Jenny nodded.  "That's what I thought.  You've been eating all this time just to rebel against your mom, weren't you?  And, even though you weren't saying anything directly to her, you still were gaining weight way faster than you should have."

"If you say so," Nicole said, her shrug sending ripples down her body.

"I had some similar experiences," Jenny said, "I just wanted to confirm."  And, with that, she left the cafeteria, hearing her best friend resume eating behind her.

Just outside she found Mark, James, and Catherine, the last waddling along with her belly sticking at least two feet out in front of her.

"Did you figure out what you need?" Mark asked, looking down on her from what seemed like skyscraper heights.

"I did," Jenny said, giving him a sly look.  "I figured out that if I have the right frame of mind, doing this--"  She took a few steps away down the hall, shifting her weight dramatically with each step so that her hips swayed out.  Electric shocks went down the spine of every male within a fifty foot radius.  Jenny felt that burning spring up again in her core, but she didn't stop.  "--or this--"  She turned back toward Mark, then crossed one leg over the other and leaned down so that her fingers brushed the floor, her breasts swinging out and bumping against her arms, over a foot of cleavage as deep as the Grand Canyon showing to Mark's eyes.  That burning continued, and she could feel her bra tightening, her jeans seemingly growing smaller.  "--or even this--"  She strutted back to her boyfriend, pulled his head down with one arm, and kissed him lightly, chastely, on the lips.  A seam in her bra popped.  "--I'll grow even more."

Mark suddenly, for the first time in days, felt a little unsure of himself.  "And do you want to?" he asked, searching her mischievous eyes.

"There's only one thing I want more than that, right now."

"What's that?"

"You."

With that, the sexual tension broke between them, and their lips met with a rush of blood filling their ears.  Their hearts, almost as one, seemed to scream that they didn't care about the consequences, didn't care what their parents and teachers would say, that they only wanted each other and to become more perfect in each other's eyes.

There probably would have been an enormous cheer, growing from a simple yell to a steady roar throughout the school, if it wasn't for the fact that every student in Rose Hills High, at that exact moment, dove on to their significant other and started tearing each other's clothes off.

Before Jenny knew it, her top and jeans, which were probably too tight to ever get put on again, were on the ground with her panties and bra.  Mark was on top of her, completely naked, kissing her all over.  Her breasts were between them, steadily growing more and more large, trying to push them apart, but he wouldn't let them.  Mark almost didn't need to enter Jenny on purpose; his own raging, pulsating member plumped up large enough to probe at her tender, moist labia.  Jenny gripped her boyfriend around the abdomen, feeling his biceps, easily bigger than her head, press into the sides of her colossal (and growing) breasts, and gave herself in to him.

Not six feet away, Catherine was leaning over her gigantic stomach as it spread across the floor, inching itself outward, while tiny rivulets of milk sprung from her nipples.  James, from his position behind her, was holding her hands and pounding back and forth, his massive testicles slapping against her stomach, then against the back of his legs as they grew too big to fit between.

All across the school, pants were being stripped off, virginities were being lost, and rebelliousness was hitting its peak.  The teachers had given up, retreating to their cars and homes, hoping that everything would be back to normal by Monday.

And Jenny, her first orgasm hitting just as she realized that Mark was now pushing her breasts apart to get at her, had started it all with a simple declaration.

***

The teachers were wrong.  It wasn't back to normal by Monday.  It took until Tuesday.  The reasons were mostly centered around five students.

The first had to do with Nicole Finnigan.  When evening had begun to close in on Friday, she realized she had simply grown too fat to get up, and elected to stay at school for the weekend without anyone's consent but her own and her tiny group of admirers, most of them male.  Instead she had stayed in the school cafeteria, no longer growing larger, but still happily eating her way through anything that was brought before her while the girls decided what would best serve as clothing.  She was removed from the school Monday morning with the help of some construction equipment and a lot of luck, wearing a brassiere large enough to house four grown men in its cups alone and a skirt made from several bedsheets that still could not cover all of her enormous buttocks.  Nicole elected to be homeschooled by her mother for her remaining few weeks of school, before taking up residence in a cooking school, where almost all of her perfect grades were wasted, but she was happier than ever.

James and Catherine Withman, quickly married after telling both of their parents that Catherine was pregnant, arrived at the school together in James' new minivan.  He was driving, she was sitting in the back, but it was soon revealed that it was impossible for her to walk without assistance, as her body weight was now 3/4s contained in her massive stomach, stretching out beyond her straight legs and completely filling up the back of the van, leaving James about a foot to see out the rearview mirror.  In addition, her breasts required hourly milkings or they swelled up to a painful degree, and she would allow only James to handle her nipples.  Her loud reasoning was that they were too far away for her to milk herself, which was true, as her breasts were outside of the measurable range and larger than some smaller newborn elephants, and that only James knew how to milk them right, which was possible, as her nipples filled up his entire hand.

However, despite Jenny's custom-made school blouse that took an hour for James to put on her and managed to cover the front, sides, and top of her monstrous belly and keep her breasts in check, she was asked to not return to school, in return for a passing grade in all classes.  James wheeled her out of the school on her custom wheelchair, her belly scraping both sides of the double doors, and that was one of the last times she left their house.  She instead attended Rose Hills Community college with a live video feed to the classrooms.  Her lack of exercise caused her to supernaturally put on weight for the rest of her life, almost all of it in her belly, and it became impossible for her to leave their bedroom without  having two walls or the ceiling knocked down.  She was last outside while being transferred to their new home, with twenty-foot high ceilings, and was estimated at the time to have the same mass of a sperm whale and approximate same size.  She had triplets five years after high school graduation, at last admitting to her parents that she had lied to get married, and her pregnant belly was nearly indistinguishable from her normal state, though her breasts did feel the need to produce even more copious amounts of milk.  At her last measurement, at the age of thirty, both breasts were nearly eight feet across, almost perfectly spherical, and permanently leaking.

James had been invited to remain at the school, but he hiked up his pants, their crotch brushing against the floor, and stated he would rather remain at his wife's side.  He took his community college courses and enrolled in an online law school before passing the bar and becoming a full-time prosecuting lawyer.  Despite the obvious joke, no one ever said anything about the size of his balls other than his wife.  They soon learned to make love on plastic sheets, and he found a difficult time getting exercise, as well, but he got along and loved his three daughters, who all took after their mother in their own special ways.

The final commotion almost started an orgy the likes of which Rose Hills High hadn't seen since the previous week.  Jenny Barlow and Mark Peterson arrived together.  Like James and Catherine, they came with Mark driving and Jenny sitting backwards in the back seat, her colossal breasts bouncing and jumping with every pothole and bump along the way.

The crowd at the front of the school who had just seen off the Withman's started cheering at the sight of the convertible driving into the school.  Sure, it was riding a little low, and Jenny's top was the only thing keeping her mams from falling off of any of the sides, resting as they were across the entire back of the car, but it pulled in smoothly, parked, and Mark unfolded himself out of the driver's seat.  He at last stood at his full height, seven and a half feet, and stretch out his giant muscles.  His arms must have been 40 inches around, the pink biceps looking like smooth, hairless pigs sitting below his barrel-like shoulders.  He walked around to the back of the car and reach underneath the gigantic pink and white mass that was his fiancé's chest.  She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a quivering breath, and opened the door to the car.  She sidled out, Mark sidestepping with her, and finally stopped a few feet away.  As he gently let his load down, Jenny strained and almost fell forward from the weight before regaining her balance.  The huge, tent-like blouse obscured it, but the brassiere Jenny was wearing underneath was an engineering feat, preventing her breasts from scraping against the ground at the cost of forcing them out, six feet or more in front of her.  They were still round, yes, still somewhat firm; they were also larger than some cars, and, when a stiff breeze blew through the parking lot, were revealed to have nipples the size of sourdough loaves that protruded through a blouse that rivaled Catherine's.

Mark took her hand, then her waist, and they walked to the school, Jenny's skirt conservatively swishing around her knees.  It did little to hide her 52-inch hips, but then, very few skirts could.

"Excuse me," Mr. Hawkinson said, meeting them in front of the hushed crowd.  "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to go to class, sir," Mark said, holding Jenny by the shoulders as she stopped so that she wouldn't be pitched forward by her breasts.

The principal nearly stuttered.  "I highly doubt that, after the riot you caused here last week!"

"We're sorry, sir, but you can hardly blame us for a riot when all of the students who participated are still here, allowed to attend school," Jenny said, demurely.

"Well-- I--" he started, before being bumped out of the way by several hundred pounds of breast-flesh.  After watching the pair cut a very wide swath down the hall, he retired to his office, trying to get the image of the girl out of his head, muttering something about "cups the size of hot tubs."

After that first day, school resumed as normal.  Oh, several concessions had to be made, but they were made almost without being asked: desks were elevated, chairs rearranged, doors widened, even a few classes moved.  If Mark had asked, he would have been allowed on to any sports team in the school for those last few weeks.  But instead the pair quietly attended class before leaving school to study.

When they both applied for scholarships to Kenworth University, they were both given full-ride, trumping, with one final hurrah, the last attempt of their parents to speak sense into them.  

And, at last, the two of them were along on their own, sharing a large apartment together and attending classes at that school that Jenny had seen in pictures and longed so badly for.  True to her vision, they held hands during lectures, had a special picnic under the tall trees, stole kisses in the hallways when they passed each other.  It was just how Jenny had dreamed, no, better: all of those visions how included gigantic, sensitive breasts, rock-hard muscles, enormous penises, and one lovingly thick butt.

Both of them were making money through that same wonderful means that found Nicole her cooking school, let Catherine go to college, helped James pass the bar, and, most importantly, inspired Jenny to speak out: the internet.  Mark found weightlifting competitions in them, something he excelled specifically at despite finding them very boring, and Jenny did internet tutoring and some freelance graphics work.

They made very passionate love at least three times a day.  Mark's penis, easily two feet long at its hardest, could do things that Jenny never would have imagined.  Many times she could reach orgasm just from breast play, and found particular pleasure getting Mark off merely by laying on their bed, her breasts piling up and sloping off of the edges of the mattress, making sensual moans as he touched her nipples with his burning hot cock.

And sometimes, when she was sure he was distracted, or hard at work, she would think of their parents, and how they were rebelling their best ever just by being successful despite the plan that had been laid out for them from birth, and would feel a familiar burning grow from deep within her core, and a tightening along her panty line or bra.

She didn't do it too often.  Just when she was feeling particularly horny.  Or wanted to turn Mark on a little more the next time they had sex (meaning within a few hours).  Or was bored.

Not TOO rebellious.

After all, she was done with that phase.

On her twenty-fifth birthday, Jenny's parents came to visit.  They were greeted at the door by Mark.  Mark, whose chest was now wider than a dumpster, whose arms were almost too wide to fit through a door, whose shoulder muscles arched above his head, whose penis and testicles were barely contained in underpants that could house a child.  Mark, who was standing in front of a flesh-colored wall in their new, unfurnished house, a house with cathedral ceilings.  Mark, who stepped aside to reveal a nipple the size of a trashcan, quivering and growing stiff in the cold wind from the open door.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad," Jenny said from her seat across the room, looking down on them from a stepladder.  Rising up around her were two enormous, fleshy globes, barely contained within a huge pair of gray sweatshorts.  And, cascading from her chest, was the soft flesh of her breasts, which almost immediately rose up again to form the wall Mark was standing in front of.

As the couple stared at their daughter and her grinning husband, Mark reached back and gently stroked the dark red nipple, running his hand along its length.  Jenny shrieked with unrestrained pleasure from her perch, and several tons of flesh and tissue shook the house with her.

"Do you think I'll be this happy for the rest of my life?" she asked, panting, when Mark at last stopped.  There was almost a sarcastic, rebellious tone in her voice.

They shut the door.

Jenny smiled, wondrously patting the tops of her breasts, as a warmth built up in her torso...