Please be warned, if you have downloaded this story in the belief that it actually has anything to do with science, you are quite mistaken.� This story is about boobs getting really big, and as such will not help you come up with an experiment for the science fair (and if it does, do drop me a line about how that project turns out).� If you're not here to read all about the jiggly bits, you might want to try something more scientifically reliable, like making a baking soda volcano, playing death metal for houseplants, or making an electro-magnet out of your dental retainer.� If the aforementioned jiggly bits are what brought you here though, please do read on; I can assure you they become surpassingly jiggly by the end of this little tale.

Controlled Conditions

By: Kodos

�� The door opened with a beep, and Amy stepped into the room.� Everything about it was cold and institutional, from the avocado green paint peeling from the walls to the lack of any furniture at all except for a table set in the middle of the floor and a very uncomfortable-looking chair off to the side.� The cinderblock walls were barren except for one which was inset with a large rectangular mirror; a poor attempt to hide an observation window if ever Amy had seen one.� The room was quiet; only the clack of her shoes on the thin linoleum and the droning buzz of the harsh florescent lights could be heard.� Amy had seen dozens like this before.� Making her way through college by signing up for medical trials was anything but glamorous, but it did have the benefit of paying extremely well, once a girl learned what clinics and research hospitals were the best bet for making her tuition in exchange of a weekend of needles, blood tests, and having to do something like eating nothing but bananas for several weeks, or keeping a journal of how often she thought about sexual intercourse in any given hour while watching French sofa commercials.� Sometimes the studies were pretty straight-forward; the clinicians would tell her right at the beginning that this drug was being tested to help treat depression in agoraphobics in Outer Mongolia (results were promising), or whether jogging on a treadmill wearing a hat shaped like a koala would help make you more musically creative (results were inconclusive).� Sometimes the doctors told her nothing at all, but to Amy, it didn't really matter anymore.� Any curiosity she might have had about advancing the state of medical science had been effaced by the sheer numbing monotony of it all, so that by Senior year, when she signed up for another trial, all she was thinking about was how many days of her life she was giving up in exchange for how many hundreds of dollars.

�� This particular trial though, had piqued her interest just a little more than most.� For one thing, they were paying her $5,500 dollars for half an hour of her time.� For another thing, respectable pharmaceutical companies rarely just pinned a handwritten ad up on the art history department bulletin board.� Even if it seemed a little dodgy, the cash was too good to pass up, and as soon as class was out for the day Amy had found herself dialing the number and talking with a receptionist who sounded infinitely bored with her job, making an appointment to go to a certain office building on a certain day at a certain time.� And now here she was.

�� Amy gave a small start as a speaker hummed to life somewhere up above the water-stained ceiling tiles.� A moment later a woman's voice followed.

�� Test Subject Two Five Three, Amy Waters, 23 years old, of 5317 Marshall Street.� Is all this information correct?�� The voice asked.

�� Yes, that's all right,� Amy answered, slightly unnerved.

�� Excellent, thank you Miss Waters,� the woman's voice said with a studied nonchalance, �Before we begin, do you have any questions for us regarding the terms of this clinical trial and your payment?�

�� No, Ma'am,� Amy replied, �Your representative was quite clear over the phone.�

�� As it so happened, Amy had doubts about several things regarding this test, but the whole thing seemed dubious enough that she had decided to just get through it as quickly as possible rather than risk coming off as too nosey and getting kicked out of the program.

�� Very good,� the voice said perfunctorily, �Now then, I am sure that you've already read and signed off on the terms of this experiment today, but in the interest of preventing any misunderstandings I hope you won't mind running through the conditions of our agreement before we actually get to work.�

�� Not at all, please go right ahead,� Amy said as sociably as she could, despite the fact that every word of this unseen woman's voice made her suspect that maybe coming here hadn�t been such a great idea after all.

�� Very well, Miss Waters.� You have consented to give us thirty minutes of your time, once the experiment begins of course.� At the end of the session, you are free to leave.� So long as you abide by the rules you have agreed to in coming here today, you will find at the beginning of the next business day the sum of 5,500 dollars has been deposited in your bank account.� In addition, should you happen to require any additional medical care as a result of today's experiment, our organization will cover one hundred percent of the cost.� However, we cannot guarantee that you will not experience some persistent non-pathological side-effects, and that you have, by signing your name, waived any right to conduct subsequent legal action against us.� Is all of this quite clear to you, Miss Waters?�

�� Yes, that all sounds fine,� Amy said, overwhelmed at how weird this was starting to get.

�� Now, Miss Waters, regarding the rules.� If you violate any of the terms of your agreement, you will forfeit the entire sum of your payment.� Furthermore, even if you should happen to suffer any complications from today's experiment, this organization will not be liable for any emotional damages or physical impairments you may suffer as a result of your non-compliance.� In short, for the duration of the experiment, you must do anything and everything which I tell you to do.� In addition, you may not leave this room before the thirty minutes are up.� There is no lock; you are not being held here, but if you open that door before the experiment is over, you forfeit all remuneration.� Do I make myself clear?�

�� Amy nodded.

�� Wonderful; if only all our test subjects were as compliant as yourself,� the voice said wryly, the first touch of emotion Amy had heard the woman yet express, �Now then, if you have no further questions, please step up to the table, facing towards the mirror.� You will note a small 'X' in green tape exactly where you ought to be standing.�

�� Glancing at the floor, Amy found her mark and walked briskly to it.

�� Good, you have no idea how many empty-headed girls have trouble with that part alone,� the voice said with condescending approval, �Now then, please remove your blouse and your brassiere.�

�� There was no reason this should have made Amy feel particularly nervous.� She could remember a dozen different times she had needed to strip naked as part of a clinical test.� Freshmen year she had even signed up to be the nude model for a Figure Drawing 102 class, and this one guy in the front row had just leered at her for the whole two hours.� All the same though, she had never quite felt this exposed, this- on display.� But still she complied.� Amy undid the buttons of her blouse, slipped out of it and cast it into a nearby chair resignedly.� She reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra, before removing it and dropping it as well.�

�� Amy's topless reflection stared back at her from the mirror, dark hair cut in a simple bob that framed her heart-shaped face, her slender figure looking very small against the imposing emptiness of the room.� Her small, perky breasts sat high and proud on her chest.� Despite the fact that they were hardly B-cups, Amy had always been pleased with her modest endowments, particularly the way her nipples pointed upwards ever so slightly, and Amy had to remind herself where she was now to stop from cupping her two firm little handfuls appreciatively, even if the lighting seemed to lend a bluish cast to her fair skin.� Catching herself, Amy resumed her work, throwing her pocketbook aside and standing back up in position, naked except for the long, swishy brown skirt she was wearing, and the thick-soled leather clogs which she wore regardless of the season.

�� Thank you Miss, Waters,� the voice said appreciatively, �Now then, if you look at the table in front of you, you will see the delivery system.� Please pick it up.�

�� Amy took it in her hand.� It was about a foot long, no thicker than her finger, and connected to something inside the table by a length of transparent flexible tube.� It reminded Amy of a cigarette holder more than anything, and she thought she could detect a faint sort of perfume as she brought it near her face.

�� Well then, Miss Waters, let us begin.� As soon as you are ready, you will take that, place it in your mouth, and inhale deeply for no less than one minute.� When you do that, the thirty minutes will have begun.� After the first minute you are welcome to stop inhaling the Substance 29-J if you wish.� In truth, you are free to spend the next twenty nine minutes simply standing there waiting for the clock to run out so that you can collect your payment.� Should you prefer to however, you may also inhale as long and as deep as you like, stopping and starting again if you so desire.� At the end of the thirty minutes the supply will be automatically terminated, the door will open, and the experiment will be over.� You will then gather your things, dress yourself as best you are able, and leave.� Miss Waters, you may begin at your soonest convenience.�

�� Not caring to spend a moment longer here than she needed to, Amy put the end of the tube in her mouth and breathed in.

�� The first sensation Amy noticed was a cloying sweetness, as if she were breathing some kind of concentrated extract meant to be diluted and used as a flavoring for something else.� It has a strangely volatile quality about it too, sort of instantly permeating her lungs and overwhelming her sense of smell.� It was a bit like strawberries, Amy thought, or maybe more like someone's attempt to artificially re-create their scent.� At first it was almost too strong, but as Amy continued to breathe it in, she found it increasingly agreeable. She was getting lightheaded; the room reeled before her eyes, and she wondered whether there was something in this strange gas that was making her dizzy, or if it was just that breathing it was keeping her from getting enough oxygen to keep her wits about her.� As Amy grew used to it though, she found it was starting to grow on her.� While at first she had been inhaling with a sort of �do this for a minute and then call it quits� attitude, she found herself sucking gradually more intently.� An odd tingle raced across her skin, and as Amy wondered how long she had been at this when the voice crackled to life.

�� One minute down, twenty nine to go, Miss Waters,� it said, �You are no longer required to breathe in Substance 29-J if you do not wish to.�

�� A minute ago, Amy had been planning on pulling this plastic thing out of her mouth as soon as she could; now though, she found herself in no great hurry to end her part in this experiment.� A sweet taste bedewed her tongue; adding to the richness of the scent in a curious and indescribable way that left her unmoored from all sense of time and space.� As she inhaled more and more fervently, Amy felt the tingling in her body settling in her chest; her breathing became more difficult as if her lungs struggled against some unseen weight.� The voice rang out again.

�� Twenty five minutes remain, Miss Waters; you are progressing splendidly.�

�� Startled out of her reverie by these words, Amy opened her eyes.� The room still lolled lazily off center, so to brace herself against her dizziness, Amy looked down at her own body.� She gasped, sucking in another chestful of the rich vapor.� Her breasts were bigger.� Already they were clearly in the D-cup range, visibly expanding as she looked on.� In spite of their additional mass, they remained just as pert and gently conical as before, and as Amy jumped back in surprise, they responded with a bounce that dispelled any possibility that they were anything other than real.

�� My boobs, they're getting bigger!� Amy cried out, the plastic wand slipping from her lips and clattering against the plastic of the table, �What are you doing to me?�

�� Ah, yes, that is the primary effect of Substance 29-J on most females,� the voice responded prosaically, �Remarkable, isn't it, Miss Waters?�

�� It that what's making me all dizzy and lightheaded?� Amy asked again, stifling a strange tickle in the back of her throat, �How is this even possible?�

�� The disruption of your sense of equilibrium is merely a temporary side-effect as the chemicals penetrate your body,� the voice said, as if that was supposed to be reassuring, �You should already be feeling less off-balance, at least for now.� As for how, there are certain properties of super-heavy bio-active compounds which may, in the right conditions, be imparted into the body via a gaseous suspension.�

�� But why are you doing-� Amy managed, choking on her words as she suddenly found the regular air of the room too thin to sustain her.� Desperately fumbling for the pipe, she stuck it back in her mouth and drank from its sweetness, the fragrance washing Amy's growing panic away; her worries suddenly too trivial to waste her time on.� At the same time, her breasts renewed their growth, and noticeably faster than before.�

�� Though Amy had always been content, even happy with her modest mounds, she found feeling curiously pleased at the sight of her bosom steadily expanding into E-cup range.� Still holding the wand firmly in her mouth, Amy's hands strayed lower, hefting and squeezing her increasingly ample bust.� Their sensitivity made her gasp; and as she inhaled, Amy noticed that her breasts endured a little jolt of expansion, her every breath pumping them up with more.� Just as the voice had said, Amy found her head clearing.� The strange, dreamlike euphoria permeating her body and mind remained, but the room stopped swaying, and Amy found herself transfixed by her reflection in the mirror.� She noticed how despite their considerable enlargement, her breasts remained winsomely firm and shapely, and unsupported as she was, Amy still had no cleavage to speak of, her breasts gently swelling out to her sides at least as much as they expanded towards each other.� It dawned on Amy, in a dim, abstract sort of way, that they had already grown too big for her slender figure.� For the moment she could probably still walk around campus and attract nothing more than a few admiring or envious glances, but if she kept this up much longer, people were going to start assuming she had had a liter or two of saline pumped into her chest.� Then again, she thought, her hips had always been just a bit too wide for her otherwise slender body, her butt just a little too round and wobbly for a girl as skinny as her; this was just bringing everything into proportion.� She gave herself another squeeze, discovering with a lustful tremble that her lush breasts were growing awfully sensitive.� Mesmerized by her steadily developing bust Amy savored the warm heaviness of her breasts as they inched further and further down her chest.� She stared, transfixed at the narrowing gap between her ripening melons, so entranced that she almost failed to notice as they plumped right into the Gs and began to press lightly against her slender arms.� Finally they met in the middle; a frisson of delight surged through Amy's body as her plumpening mammaries touched together at last.� It was all just so incredible; she could do this all day, just floating along on a cloud of bliss as her breasts grew bigger and bigger and bigger- once again, the voice jolted her back to the room.

�� Twenty minutes remain, Miss Waters, your progress is quite acceptable,� it intoned.

�� Pulled out of her satisfying daze, Amy�s situation seemed to take on a far more serious color.� She pulled the wand out of her mouth again, recoiling in alarm as she realized just how big her breasts were becoming.

�� Holy crap, I'm getting huge!� she said, staring in amazement at her endowments, now swollen to dimensions impossible to disguise, �How is this even possible?� Are you blowing my tits up like balloons or something?�

�� Huge, Miss Waters, is a highly subjective term,� the voice observed dryly, �As for balloons, though I must admit there may be some relevant parallels to inflation, surely you have noticed the increasing weight of your new assets?� No, it is not air or anything of the kind that your breasts are bloating up with, they are as real, as heavy, and as permanent as the rest of your body.�

�� But why- but why are you making me do this?� Amy cried, the irresistible need for that sublimely enriched air making her voice weak as she choked out the question.

�� Miss Waters, we have not done forced anything upon you since the first minute of this experiment,� the voice calmly observed, �all your subsequent actions are those you have taken of your own free will.�

�� But you knew- you- you-had to-� Amy managed before her resolve crumbled once again.� She grabbed the mouthpiece and squeezed it tightly between her lips, soothed by the faint hissing sound of the flowing vapor.� Even from her first ravenous breath, the results were obvious as her breasts, still high and firm, but now swollen into a pair of pale, pink-tipped torpedoes, hanging lower as their expanded and finally made contact with her taut and well-toned tummy.� A delicious shock flowed through her body as Amy registered this new sensation, the touch of two regions of her anatomy which had never been in contact before, now made real by nothing more than the effect of gravity on her swiftly billowing bust.

�� You will notice, I am sure,� the voice observed, with just a hint of mockery, �that the longer a subject is exposed to Substance 29-J, the more responsive her body becomes to its effects.� If you wish to go on buying your clothes off the rack, Miss Waters, you should probably start exercising greater self-restraint.�

�� The voice was right; Amy realized that her growth was accelerating, every breath she took adding slightly more mass to her expanding bosom than the one before.� It also dawned on Amy just how heavy her boobs were getting.� All her life the weight of her breasts had been all but negligible, but now their rapidly increasing mass was impossible to ignore.� Just standing there, Amy felt the gentle but insistent tug of gravity on her chest, and when she gave even the slightest bounce or shimmy, the pull at her ever-more sensitive endowments was something she was utterly unprepared for.� All sorts of things Amy had never even thought about grew impossible to ignore as she became ever more top-heavy.� Every movement she made caused her now J-cup sized breasts to smack heavily against her stomach before their unnatural firmness returned them to their previous shape.

�� Even that was beginning to change though, for as her breasts plumped up larger and larger, it was clear that Amy's pert and perky tits had finally reached their limit.� Somewhere around an M (Amy could only guess at her real size; she had never even known another girl with a pair this big, much less imagined being such a girl) her breasts began to take on more of a blimp-like shape as her every breath pumped more flesh into her lusciously swollen breasts.� A brief flash of panic stole over Amy; there was no way she could ever disguise a pair of boobs like this now; whatever she wore, every single person she met was going to notice her huge tits.� What would her friends think if she met them on campus tomorrow looking like an overinflated blow-up doll?� How was she going to land a job at a respectable art museum if she showed up to her interview looking like she was auditioning for a porn shoot?� Sure, she'd known a few girls in school who were pretty hefty up top, but every last one of them was a good bit fuller-figured than Amy was.� It was one thing, she thought, for a girl who tipped the scales at three hundred pounds to have boobs bigger than her head, but on a girl with Amy's figure they looked grotesquely enlarged.

�� Which is not to say that Amy did, for a moment, even try to take the tube out of her mouth, for try as she might to talk sense into herself, stopping before she sentenced herself to a lifetime with even more enormous breasts than she already had, this stuff was just too good to give up.� On top of that, the sheer physical pleasure of her seductively sensitive breasts made it impossible to even think about quitting at this size.� Amy's nipples no longer pointed proudly out in front of her; as her bosom continued to fatten she watched them slowly passing beyond the horizon of her steadily filling mammaries, her pink areolae gently stretching and spreading as her tantalizingly full breasts were laden with more.� Amy felt a faint sort of twinge, as if her boobs were fattening up slightly too fast for her body to accommodate.� She took an extra deep breath, and was rewarded by the sight of her bust, which now projected out nearly a foot in front of her, suddenly bulging another inch in every direction.� Her ripening jugs slapped together in a way that sent a bolt of pleasure arcing through Amy's depths, and a sudden sensation of coolness against the underside of her boobs made Amy to gasp in awe as she looked at her reflection and saw that her tits were now resting on the table in front of her, while her accidental gulp of surprise forced them to fatten even more, pressing with growing insistence against her arms.

�� Fifteen minutes to go, Miss Waters; I would have thought you would have reached this point long before now,� the voice observed, �I'd say you must have more self-control than some of the others, but those overstuffed pillows of yours tell me all we need to know about how helpless to resist your urges you are.� Don't even pretend I'm not right; you couldn't stop yourself now if you wanted to, no matter how outrageously gigantic you end up.�

�� Please!� Amy asked, the cool disdain of the voice suddenly bringing the gravity of her situation to life, �Can't you stop doing this to me?� Surely you've already proved whatever it is that this experiment is all about!� This stuff of yours, substance XJ-whatever, even though it's blowing my boobs up like hot air balloons; it feels so good I can't stop myself!� You win; just turn it off and let me go, please!�

�� But Miss Waters, you are free to go any time you wish,� The voice reminded Amy, �You're now carrying considerably more weight than you came in with, but you're still quite mobile, at least for the present.� If you want this to be over as badly as you say, you need only to walk through that door, assuming you can see the handle - I imagine your lower field of vision is now somewhat obscured.�

�� Amy was torn.� She knew that if she left now she'd still be stuck with boobs bigger than watermelons and twice as heavy, and she wouldn't even have a dime to show for it.� If stayed, who knew how big she'd end up before time ran out?� Then again, she assured herself, there was another way: if she just stood there, resisting temptation, not picking up the pipe, not taking another breath from it, she'd be no bigger than if she just left now, and several thousand dollars richer.� Besides, maybe the subsequent medical assistance promised in her contract could do something to reduce her to a more manageable size.� Even if it wasn't nearly back to her pre-experimental measurements (actually, Amy was discovering that the larger she grew, the larger her ideal bust size seemed to grow as well).� In fact, she thought, rationalizing the decision she had already made, what if none of the growth were real at all?� What if this weird gas was just making her hallucinate that her boobs were getting enormous?� For all she knew this test was to see how she reacted to such an impossible situation, and in another fifteen minutes she would walk out of here just as she was when she came in, a victim of some kind of hypnotic suggestion, but nothing more permanent than that.

�� Thinking about it that way, leaving now seemed like a foolish thing to do, giving up all that money just because she didn't want to spend a few more minutes feeling disoriented.� It made a weird kind of sense, actually; the woman on the other side of the glass was way too rude and unpleasant for any kind of real medical trial; they had to be testing how she responded to this situation instead.� Then again- Amy looked down at her fat, heavy breasts, looming out in front of her with all possible insistency.� Her lungs were beginning to ache again; Amy had to decide.� She gave one nipple a doubtful pinch, hoping that the illusion would break down somehow, that her suspicions would be confirmed, what she got in return though was another great surge of nigh-orgasmic pleasure that left her weak in the knees.� If this was a trick, it was a very convincing one, but Amy decided she simply couldn't afford to leave with nothing after she had already come this far; even if this was real, she was going to need that money just to find clothes that fit.

�� Amy tried to count off the passing seconds to fill the silence around her.� By the time she'd made it to twenty, she felt her strength flagging.� After a minute her lungs burned as if she were holding her breath, and all the while, there right in front of her rested the cure.� Even a single breath from that pipe lying on the table would just melt the discomfort right out of her body.� It was right there; all Amy had to do was reach out and take it.� Though the voice said nothing, she could feel eyes on the other side of the glass watching her, waiting for her resolve to buckle, waiting to be proven right in her weakness.� Amy closed her eyes tight, clenching her fists at her sides.� The need grew stronger; she felt like she was trying to drown herself in an inch of water, relief was so very close, so, so terribly easy to reach, and yet she fought it.� Amy's body trembled as she tried to bolster her crumbling resolution; even without being able to see them, her breasts still felt so very, very real and full, and sensitive, jiggling faintly against each other�s softness, sitting heavily on the smooth, hard table-top.� They were so responsive now, she thought, wouldn't it just be so nice to have them feeling even better?� Even if it weren't for the way her pulse pounded at her temples, it would have been hard to resist the allure of making her two most stimulating erogenous zones even more pleasurable, and at last her desire overcame her will.

�� With desperate urgency, Amy grabbed at the pipe and stuck it back into her mouth, sucking on it as if her life depended on it.� The stress of resistance melted away in a moment, the need to fight this that had so consumed her a few seconds ago forgotten immediately.� Her breasts expanded instantly.� Though each breath she drew in felt as light as the air around her, she felt it forcing her breasts to become heavier and heavier.� Her chest, which had never had to support more than a few ounces of weight before this, now felt the strain of a vastly heavier load.� Amy felt her shoulders growing weak; it seemed like fully fifty pounds of quivering breastflesh hung from her chest now.� With each breath she took, the area of contact between her burgeoning melons grew.� Even hanging free, her cleavage extended longer and longer, inch by inch, until from the table to just below her collarbone stretched a long, inviting cleft as her ponderous jugs expanded.�

�� All caution and fear cast aside now, Amy sunk her fingers lustfully into the billowing expanse of pale flesh spreading out before her, her legs nearly collapsing as she came harder than she had in months.� It felt as if her new breasts were wired for bliss to a degree that her brain had never been intended to endure, but still the boundless possibilities exceeded any worries that Amy might have had by now, even as she glanced at the glass and saw that everything south of her shoulders was now hidden behind a pair of boobs that were each easily a foot and a half across.� Amy saw their melon-like shape beginning to give way to a more teardrop shaped one as they grew softer, their tremendous weight settling low and heavy as they spilled out across the table, tantalizingly more yielding than before, overwhelmed by their own sheer enormousness.� For a split second, Amy wondered just how heavy they were by this point.� Certainly fifty pounds each was too low; she tried to stand up a little straighter and was rewarded with an acute straining sensation that told her she was already far heftier than that.� A moment later the twinge of tightness returned, but much more insistently, as if her body was trying to warn her that she was forcing her tender skin to contain a burden far in excess of what a girl of her modest figure could safely hope to do, and if she persisted in fattening her breasts at such a reckless rate, the consequences would hardly be a surprise.�

�� Looking down, Amy saw that her breasts had now been filled to the point that they covered more than half the table.� The results of her insatiability were becoming progressively more apparent as well.� Amy could barely see her nipples now, two small rosy nubs entirely out of proportion to her desperately swollen boobs.� Her areolae had endured far more exacting punishment, and were now stretched out into faint pink circles larger than Amy's outspread hand.� She could see for the first time a faint hint of blue veins beneath her fair skin.� Amy felt another stab of concern; even if she was willing to blow her tits up until they were as big as weather balloons, would she not eventually reach a point where her already overladen breasts simply couldn't hold anymore, even if she kept pumping it into them?� The possibility was sobering, to say the least.� Before she could follow this unpleasant line of thought any further though, the voice made itself known once again.

�� Well, now, only ten minutes to go,� it said, with a hint of something that almost toyed with being respect, �Perhaps I misjudged you after all.�

�� Misjudged me how?� Amy asked defensively, pushing the pipe to the side of her mouth to speak, �Are you going to tell me again how weak and pathetic I am?� Go on, I've already got boobs so huge I'll either have to get a job in a travelling freak show or wave these things around in strip club; please, tell me how much better you are than me!�

�� Oh, but you misunderstand me, Miss Waters,� the voice said mildly, �You held out for nearly two minutes before giving in.� I never would have thought you had it in you to do so; most women in your situation can barely manage half of that.�

�� Come on,� Amy said, a red flush of anger rising in her cheeks and spreading faintly out across her expanding bosom, �don't think you're going to win me over with a few nice words after what you've done to me!�

�� Please, don't be like that, Miss Waters,� the voice said conciliatorily, �I just want to give credit where credit is due; you've made it much farther than most of the other young women on whom we've tested Substance 29-J.� I only wanted to mention that, despite your show of bravado, you have managed to impress me.�

�� Fuck you, shut up!� Amy said, pulling the pipe from her mouth in disgust, feeling trapped, as if everything she did only played more into hands of that sadistic woman on the other side of the glass.

�� As you wish, Miss Waters,� the voice said, heavy with wounded pride, �I should certainly hate to cause you any undue distress.�

�� Amy stood there seething.� She was almost mad enough to just storm out the room right then, just to show this manipulative bitch that she wasn't playing along with anyone's game.� Still, the fact that she'd be giving up several grand just to make a point seemed less than wise, and once again she found herself considering just how dire her present situation was.� She was standing here with her bust swollen to more than three feet across and still her emotions were getting the better of her.

�� Wait a second,� Amy said as her mind caught up with her again, �What do you mean most of the other girls don't make it this far?�

�� Oh, no, I think I've said far too much already,� the voice said apologetically, �I think I'd best just shut up, as you asked so politely, and leave you to your own devices.�

�� Amy stood there fuming, and discovered that at least being angry seemed to be a pretty decent way to keep her longing at bay.� At the same time, it gave her a chance to think over the woman's words.� Why exactly hadn't most of the other girls made it this far?� Amy wanted to think that they had just had more sense than her and quit before they let their tits looked like a couple of overinflated beach balls.� For all she knew the city was full of girls who had walked into this room, figured out what would happen to anyone foolish enough to stick around more than a few minutes, and walked right out with nothing more than a� free boob job for their troubles.� Then again, Amy worried; maybe most of them had just had more willpower than she did.� Maybe all those others had made it through the half hour without sucking down grow gas until their breasts were overflowing the table.� Amy shivered; if they had gotten through the full session and still ended up smaller than her, what was the next ten minutes going to do to her?� Resisting temptation was beginning to seem like a more and more attractive idea.�

�� As the nagging rasp in her throat began to return though, and the cold plastic of the table made her skin feel a little tighter than it had a moment before, Amy found her imagination going in the one direction she least wanted it to go- what if they just hadn't survived?� Was it even possible for a woman's breasts to get so fat they exploded?� Any other day of her life, it would have seemed like a ridiculous question, something for plastic surgery addicts and the stranger fetishists of the internet to ponder, but since she had already seen her own modest little mounds fattened up until they probably weighed as much as she did, Amy wasn't nearly so sure any more.� Their skin was definitely feeling tighter, and while it wasn't exactly painful, it was getting more than a little uncomfortable, and it certainly wasn't natural to put on so much weight so quickly.� Amy remembered seeing some Canadian woman on TV once whose hormones went wild when she was pregnant and grew a cup-size a week for several months, and by the time she was done she certainly looked like she was about to pop; the doctor on the show talking about all sorts of bad things that would have happened if she'd kept growing at that rate much longer.� Then again, Amy thought, her boobs didn't even have to burst for this to end very badly for her.� Having so much mass added to her body so very quickly, that couldn't be healthy.� She held her breath for a moment; her heart was hammering away.� What if the other test subjects had suffered from some kind of massive coronary or a stroke or something?� The more she thought about it, the more Amy began to imagine the worst.� Did this mean that almost everyone else who had come before her had already exploded or dropped dead or whatever it was that happened when your boobs got too big for your body to deal with?� Was she just lucky that it hadn't happened to her yet?� How much bigger did she dare to get?�

�� The urge grew stronger, and Amy gazed at her swollen boobs with dread.� She realized that the only sane course of action was to get out of here as fast as she possibly could; the money wasn't even an issue anymore, stakes were higher than that now.� But still something kept her there; if she had already gotten bigger than the other girls, what if she was just living on borrowed time too?� What if her boobs were already too heavy to support their own weight, and the second she didn't have the table to support them anymore they'd burst like a couple of water balloons?� The craving was growing stronger- it was now or never and Amy- just wasn't quite strong enough to make a break for it.� Feeling a malevolent smile upon her as someone on the other side of the glass looked callously on; Amy took the resignedly seized the pipe and drew deeply from it.

�� Again Amy felt the soft hiss of gas against her tongue, and her breasts surged outwards.� She had felt like they were growing out of control before, but this sudden flood of excruciating pleasure was almost more than Amy could bear.� Flesh wasn't just flowing into her breasts anymore, it gushed into them like a torrent; Amy could see them quivering, feel their skin straining and yielding unevenly as her breasts billowed larger and larger with fat.� Amy endured a pang of discomfort as their soft and ever so tender skin was pulled across the smooth table top; her swelling bosom's center of gravity now lay far in front of her as her massive melons tried to find a balance between their rapidly increasing volume and their ponderous weight.� Amy watched her reflection in the glass, stunned by the sight of her breasts growing more desperately bloated by the moment.�

�� Her body already wracked with pleasure, Amy tried to caress her titanic bosom, and discovered that she had at last become too large for her arms to reach around.� As her fingers softly stroked her alarmingly overfilled breasts though, she felt a wave of pure and unadulterated bliss tear through her body, as her breasts, forcibly expanded to such mammoth dimensions flooded her head with enough pleasure to bring a hundred women to their knees.� Amy felt her legs failing her; she sagged like a rag doll against the table, her overblown tits bulging outwards and creaking helplessly as the weight of her body was added to their burden.� It was only as Amy began to slide off her tremulous endowments and sink to the floor that she revived.� As her limp body sunk a few inches towards the floor and her overbrimming melons remained resting on the table, she felt them straining to support her weight as well as their own excessive bulk, and she struggled desperately back to her feet.

�� Panic set her mind ablaze in a second.� If her breasts were now so overfilled that they couldn't support her weight without pain, how could she ever support them?� They had already grown distressingly tight, so tremendously overfilled that Amy despaired of being able to carry them unsupported.� Each of them was more than two feet across by now, and lusciously ample in proportion, gorged with as much trembling flesh as she could endure.� Aside from a few clear inches around the edges, the table was now buried beneath her gargantuan mammaries.� But still Amy continued to suck.� She was so lost in the maelstrom of insatiable delight that blazed through her body that she simply lacked the will to resist her growing urges.� Her breasts were now so spectacularly fattened that rather than hanging from her chest, they began to rise up towards her face.� Looking down past the pipe between her lips, Amy watched as the swelling vista of her overblown boobs inflated before her.� Her cleavage was now a long and sumptuously deep divide between two mountains so tremblingly overfilled that it quaked and quivered as Amy meekly forced her recklessly enlarged melons to hold even more, despite the way that Amy could see the skin of her breasts growing paler and paler as they struggled to accommodate such excess, growing in some places almost shiny where the light struck them just right.� In the mirror she could see now that her areolae had been stretched almost invisible, with only a faint, pink halo surrounding her nipples, the rest of their color fading into the increasingly bright blush of the lower regions of her ponderous globes.� The rosy little peaks of her nipples, oddly enough, looked as if they were hardly any bigger than when she first started out; somehow Amy felt as if by all rights they ought to be just as bloated as the rest of her bosom was, so fat and inflamed that she couldn't wrap her fingers around them anymore.� As it was, so much now lay between Amy and her nipples that she couldn't reach them anymore, but the sight of her taut little tips, now just an inch above the table top and so completely overshadowed by the looming immensity of her achingly distended breasts only made her feel more turned on.

�� With each breath leaving Amy more colossal, she wondered how much heavier she was getting every time she inhaled.� Already her breasts felt like they had been injected full of gelatin until they were ready nearly bursting from it, but somehow they still had just enough give to keep taking more.� All the same, they were starting feel awfully tight, and it was only getting worse.� Amy felt another uncomfortable tug; their weight was shifting again and an explosion of ecstasy rocked Amy's body.� The pipe slipped from Amy's lips as she screamed in rapture as her taut little nipples were pinched against the edge of the table, squeezed there tightly by the boundless weight of her bust pressing down on top of them.� She had never felt anything like this before, never even imagined that it was possible for a woman to feel this way.� Pleasure, pain, it all got twisted up into something entirely new to her, and Amy came hard and fast.� Each climax hit her so quickly that she could barely keep breathing; her oversaturated breasts quaked and jiggled heavily as her body was sodden with lust.� Somewhere in the distance, Amy heard her own screams of release echoing off the walls, but utterly lost in her own body, for the moment she didn't care where she was, how dangerous her condition was, or what the woman on the other side of the glass was thinking.

�� At last the tide began to ebb; Amy found herself still standing at the table, leaning weakly against her enormously surfeited bust.� She couldn't remember where she was, or what was happening to her, until she heard the voice again.

�� Well, Miss Waters, that certainly was an impressive little display,� the woman's voice said with a note of wry amusement, �We've had plenty of girls who have found the effects of this experiment to be quite enjoyable, but never anything quite like that before.� I can only imagine how singularly sensitive your breasts must be by now, all those millions of nerve endings stretched tight as violin strings across all those acres of taut, delicate skin.� You know, Miss Waters, you're going to have to be very careful around sharp objects if you make it out of here, which I must admit is beginning to almost seem possible, since only five minutes remain until this session in complete.�

�� Come on now, don't pretend to be impressed with me after this long,� Amy panted, finding herself strangely buoyed by the grudging respect of the woman behind the glass, �We're both just here for the money, unless watching me blow up my tits until they're ready to pop is how you get your kicks too.�

�� Why Miss Waters, however could you think such a thing?� the voice replied, with an candidness that told Amy that her worlds had found their mark quite accurately, �I'm merely a researcher, interested in furthering the state of medical science, and of course the long-term goals of my employer.�

�� Admit it, you like this; you get off on it,� Amy said with just a bit of acid in her own voice, �Unless you're not even a real woman at all, and I've just been talking to a computer or something all this time.�

�� Not at all, Miss Waters,� The voice replied with a note of veiled respect, �I can assure you that I am every bit as much a woman of flesh and blood as you yourself are- well, perhaps not nearly as much flesh as in your case, but red-blooded and alive all the same.� Yes, I think you are proving to be a very interesting case after all, contrary to my original assessment of you.�

�� What do you mean?� Amy managed, finding her strength was at last returning, �I thought I was just another test subject, here to be toyed with for your curiosity and then bought off, assuming I survived.�

�� Mmm, perhaps originally you were, Miss Waters,� the voice conceded, �But your reactions, both physical and psychological, have been most remarkable; I think my superiors may be most intrigued by your performance here today.� By the by, you have four minutes remaining in this trial; how do you feel?�

�� As the woman asked her, it dawned on Amy that, aside from her achingly overfilled breasts and her sodden panties, she was actually feeling okay.� In particular, the strange addiction to the gas which had been driving her onwards before was oddly absent now, as if somehow her fit of self-pleasure had burned that particular compulsion right out of her.� Amy took a deep breath; though her breasts, glistening faintly with sweat, bulged out slightly as she inhaled, she felt not the slightest itch in her throat, as if her insatiable physical urge had finally been fulfilled.

�� Actually, I feel pretty good,� Amy confessed, immediately realizing how unlikely her words sounded since her bosom now swelled out immensely to either side of her lissome body, and bore all the signs of having been fattened well beyond the point of safety, �I'm still not sure how I'm going to get around after this is all over, but you know, I think I could get used to having boobs that weigh more than I do.�

�� Well, now, don't go getting ahead of yourself just because you've made it this far,� the voice taunted Amy, �There may be only a few minutes left, but there�s still plenty of time for things to go awry, especially to a girl whose lack of self-control has left her so helplessly overcharged with Substance 29-J that even the tiniest additional dose might have calamitous results.�

�� What do you mean?� Amy asked, her confidence deflating, �I've breathed in enough of that stuff already and been okay; even if I did have another puff or two, it's not like it would make me that much more enormous than I already am.�

�� You sound so very certain of that, Miss Waters,� the voice said, �Have you forgotten already that the more of Substance 29-J that you take in, the more it primes your body for further enlargement?�

�� Well, no,� Amy answered, �But how could a little more do that much harm?�

�� Just look at yourself, Miss Waters,� The voice said with the air of someone explaining something very simple to someone particularly dense, �Your breasts are so glutted with our chemical that they're practically dripping with it.� Those magnificent milkers of yours are already liable to burst; even the slightest additional dosage could have catastrophic effects for a test subject so critically overfilled as you have allowed yourself to become.�

�� Well then, that's just one more reason for me to just stand here and run out the clock then, isn't it?� Amy shot back defiantly, �Unless you're planning on actually coming in here and shoving a hose down my throat, you can't make me do anything.� Whatever you put in that stuff that makes it impossible to resist, I'm over it!� I've had my fill and then some!� You may had made be blow my tits up as big as zeppelins, but time's almost up; I'm going to walk out of here in a few minutes a lot richer than I came in.� I'm not saying I haven't paid for it with more than a few pounds of flesh, but I've won; I've beaten you, you sadistic bitch!�

�� Oh, so you've overcome your addiction to our little concoction have you?� the voice asked, betraying not a hint of anger at Amy's outburst, �How very lucky you are, seeing as how a full three minutes remain until you've earned that money we so easily bought you for.� It would be so unfortunate for you if your new-found resolve were to crumble before then.�

�� What do you mean?� Amy asked, �I could stand here for the next hour if I had to; I don't know if I've built up a tolerance to this poison of yours or if I'm just finally so stuffed with it that my body can't handle another drop of it, but you've lost your power over me.�

�� But Miss Waters,� the voice said solicitously, �You don't have another hour here.� You have slightly more than two minutes remaining.� Do you feel that bit of plastic tubing squashed beneath the swollen bulk of your right breast?� Soon the supply of Substance 29-J flowing through that tube will be terminated and you will be compelled to leave this room.� The odds that you will be permitted to enter any subsequent experiments for this chemical are exceedingly low; your further scientific interest to us is not particularly great, and since you have managed to render your bust so debilitatingly bloated in one session, I think that you should rather thank us if we prevent you from ever coming back here again to abuse your poor, overstretched udders more than you already have.�

�� Stop trying to mess with my head!� Amy shouted, a pink flush of anger spreading from her face down her neck and across her huge bosom, �I'm done with you; and when I get out of here I'm going to report what you're doing to people here!�

�� You may do whatever pleases you, Miss Waters,� the voice assented, �but our legal representation is without equal.� If you believe that threats will affect any of what is to come, you are sadly mistaken.� I may remind you however, that ever second that you spend hurling your childish insults at me is one more second which ticks by, an opportunity to slake your desire which will soon be gone forever.� Two minutes.�

�� Amy felt the slick plastic of the pipe pressing against the underside of her breast.� Every inch of her bust was so sensitive now that she could feel the imperfections in the tabletop, transmitted with distracting clarity through the quivering mountains which rose in front of her.� Amy looked in the mirror; just the tip of it was sticking out from under her bust, it was near the furthest corner of the table, barely within her reach.

�� I do hope you're telling the truth when you say you've had enough,� the voice chided Amy, �Because if you want more, ever, now is the time.�

�� Amy gazed down at her dangerously overburdened breasts.� They were already too massive for words, aching, throbbing with overfullness.� In the back of her mind Amy was sure they'd never be able to support their own weight; that she'd be stuck standing at this table until the woman got tired of teasing her and sent for the fire department.� She was already too immeasurably enormous to ever be able to live a regular life; even if she could learn to carry her gigantically plumped up bosom around without giving herself a heart attack or at the very least, serious lower back issues, any hopes she had of passing for normal.� Amy felt the fingers of her right hand twitching.� Almost before she knew what she was doing, she found herself reaching past her overstuffed melons.� Squeezing past what felt like a ton of pale, quivering flesh, Amy managed to hook one finger around the hose.� As she tried to pull it free, she felt her need for it growing stronger and stronger.� Not in the same physical way as before, but a far more subtle and inexorable desire.� As she finally tugged the pipe out from under her ponderous bosom, Amy realized that even without her throat tightening up, she still craved this.� She burned with a need for the way it made her feel as it flowed into her body, lighting her senses up the way that a summer storm lights up the night sky.� But even more than that, Amy realized that she still wanted to be bigger.� Whatever might come from that; if she had to hide away for the rest of her life like some kind of deviant, if everyone she knew disowned her, even if it ended up killing her- Amy wanted to fatten her tits up with every last drop they could possibly hold.� She held the pipe at the ready now.� Her heart was thudding against her ribs as she prepared herself to do it.� Her breasts were rosy with desire, the patterns of veins that stretched across them bulging ever so slightly from the otherwise creamy smoothness of her skin.� Amy hesitated.� The voice counted off one more time.

�� One minute, Miss Waters,� it intoned, �I do hope you are satisfied with your new figure; you're going to be stuck with it for the rest of your life.�

�� Amy sighed.� The pipe was already hissing away in her mouth.� She felt like she was about to explode.� Amy�s breasts felt like she was sucking on a fire hose, relentlessly enlarging her breasts without regard for how terribly delicate and overfilled they had become.� She could feel it gushing into her, some fluid that quickly penetrated deeply into her billowing boobs, and then condensed into several more quivering pounds of supple and sensitive flesh.� The effect was so much more powerful than before; Amy felt her breasts straining as she pushed them far beyond their capacity.� As her spectacularly brimming bosom covered up what little remained exposed of the table, Amy could see her skin growing tighter and tighter.� Amy felt a gentle pressure against her neck; looking down her view was filled by the vast expanse of her softly rippling assets.�

�� Amy's breasts throbbed painfully with their own barely-contained lusciousness; they were visibly pulsing as she forced them to keep growing, to keep taking in more and more, no longer caring how they sorely they ached or how obscenely distended they became.� Amy felt their weight shifting again and a new pressure underneath her massive bust, and realized that she was finally spilling over the edges of the table.� Rounded as the edges were, they felt dreadfully sharp against the delicate skin of her dangerously overladen breasts.� One inch, two, three, Amy watched in the glass as her breasts, swollen to incomparable repletion, overhung the table farther and farther.� The weight of her chest seemed to double in a moment; her boobs, bloated and unsteady, were starting to slide off opposite sides of the table.� Amy panicked; if that happened she was sure she'd be split in two.� She doubted she'd even be able to support these mountains if she was just standing up; there was no way she could survive so much weight pulling her in two different directions.� But still she sucked on the pipe, trying to stand up a little bit straighter, hoping that a little added distance might help hoist herself back into a less precarious position.� It worked, for the moment.

�� Each one now nearly three feet across, Amy's breasts were beginning to feel like a pair of overripe tomatoes left on the vine in rainy weather, soaking up more and more, getting bigger and juicier, but desperately enlarged to accommodate their own lush overabundance.� Amy noticed the naked skin of her breasts was growing rosier by the second; especially underneath, while strange little tremors chased through her skin.� Every second or so, the tightness in her breasts would slacken just a bit, but only for a moment before they were fattened to even greater extremes.� She could hear them creaking as they stretched, heedlessly pushing her body far beyond her limits.� Amy realized she was standing on her toes now, her back was starting to cramp up as she struggled to keep her breasts from sliding off the table like two party balloons so full of jello they could hardly bear their own weight, much less survive any further stresses.� A sharp stab of discomfort, and then another; her breasts had lapped over the corners of the table, and all their weight was pressing relentlessly down on them.�

�� Amy's situation was getting desperate.� With careful haste she tried to reach out wrap her arms around her engorged breasts, but they were just too tender now; even as she tried to grab a hold of herself, her fingernails felt so sharp against her skin she was afraid to any force at all against her mammoth melons.� Still, Amy leaned forwards, trying as gently as possible to stabilize her position.� She discovered though, that now her face was pressed so tightly into her cleavage that there was no way she could get the pipe out of her mouth now, even if she wanted to, all she could do was wait for this to be over, the gas still hissing into her body with a softness completely out of proportion to what it was doing to her fat-swollen boobs.� Amy felt a wave of relief as the pressure inside her breasts suddenly subsided.� They were still growing though, even faster than before, and in a moment Amy figured out what was happening.� Her breasts had been resisting this treatment since the beginning, trying to keep to their original size even as she glutted them with untold gallons.� Finally though, they had reached their limit; she had filled them to the point where her breasts were simply too distended to resist any more.� Like balloons blown up to several times their intended size, Amy's boobs seemed to have surrendered to their fate, now meekly accepting more and more.� The gas continued to hiss through the pipe; Amy felt her strength failing.� Even if she wasn't seconds away from collapsing, her breasts felt ready to burst.� She felt them shuddering and groaning, their painfully tight skin hot against her cheeks.� She closed her eyes tight and waited for the end.

�� Time's up,� the voice said matter-of-factly, �Congratulations, Miss Waters, you have completed the experiment.� The agreed upon payment will be transferred to your account; you may leave now.�

�� As the woman's words hazily penetrated Amy's mind, she felt her head clearing.� The hissing gas had fallen silent, and she felt her racing pulse gradually returning to normal, the flush of excitement draining from her as her hyperstimulated senses began to adapt themselves to her body's chemically enhanced condition.

�� Oh, it's-it's over?� Amy asked dazedly, cautiously lifting her face out of her cleavage, �I- I made it?�

�� Relaxing her back a bit, Amy cautiously let her breasts settle more heavily on the table.� The corners still dug unpleasantly into her skin, but now that her growth had stopped, the pain was bearable, if only just.�

�� Indeed, Miss Waters, it appears that you have,� the voice said, �However, as our business here is now concluded, I must wish you good day and prepare this lab for my next subject.�

�� Though Amy had thought her breasts were enormous before, the results of that final fevered minute of expansion had left her with utterly stunning proportions.� With the table supporting so much of their weight, Amy's breasts each easily surpassed three feet across, and from where they sat at a few inches lower than her waist, they swelled up so immensely that when she inhaled they pressed against her cheeks.� As woefully tight as they felt, their sheer mass overwhelmed any tendency towards unnatural roundness; instead they sort of simply piled up in front of her, wider at the bottom than at the top, with no space visible between them, though Amy imagined she could probably hide a beach ball in her cleavage and have it vanish without a trace.� They trembled faintly, and as Amy breathed, she was infinitely relived to see that though they rose impressively when she inhaled, when she let her breath out a moment later, her bosom subsided by the same amount.� All their lower regions had an almost cherry pink color now, and while her veins no longer bulged out since the end of her ordeal, they were still clearly visible tracing their way across what felt like acres of exposed flesh, her pale skin stretched to the point that Amy was very grateful that her time and run out when it did.

�� Wait, hang on,� Amy said, snapping back to reality, �How am I supposed to carry these out of here?�

�� I am afraid that that is not this organization's problem,� the voice explained evenly, �Now that the terms of your contract have been fulfilled to the fullest extent imaginable, you are free to go and obliged to leave.�

�� But-but,� Amy stammered, �My tits are so heavy there's no way I can walk out of here under my own power.� And they feel so- so delicate now; I feel like if I move I'm going to pop!�

�� Miss Waters, the terms of our agreement were quite unambiguous,� the voice said devoid of emotion, �It is time for you to go.�

�� Well what if I just stay here until you do something then?� Amy asked angrily, looking at the nearby chair where her purse rested along with a blouse that was never going to button up again and a bra that was roughly a four hundred cup sizes too small, �I could call the police; tell them what you did to me; how would your employer like that?�

�� Please, Miss Waters, threats do not become you,� the woman said evenly, �I assure you that yours is not the first occasion that a problem of this nature has arisen; if the authorities are summoned you will find that the law is not on your side.� If we are in the business of threatening one another, however, I might point out that we have security personnel quite capable of removing even a woman as generously endowed as yourself, Miss Waters, and if you are worried about walking out of this room being too rough on those quivering fat-balloons of yours, you will certainly find having your person forcibly removed from this building to be far less pleasant and not nearly as safe for a woman in your decidedly vulnerable condition.� Do I make myself quite clear?�

�� Yes,� Amy said meekly, realizing that she had better get out while she still had the choice, �You'll be hearing from me again though, just you wait.�

�� Oh, I doubt that, Miss Waters,� the voice said with amusement, �I doubt that very much indeed.� Now then, off you go, or I'll be pushing this button to talk with the nice young men down in the security office.�

�� Her last act of bravado punctured by the woman on the other side of the glass, Amy struggled to get out.� She tried to lean away from the table, but the sheer weight and friction that her mammoth breasts in place kept them from budging, even where she tugged so hard that it felt like she was about to hurt herself.� Still, she no longer had the luxury of time.� Even now security might be on their way.� She redoubled her efforts.� Straining, and slowly trying to walk back from the table, Amy felt her breasts beginning to slide towards her.� Every sensation she got from her bloated melons told her that this was a bad idea, that she was subjecting them to more than they could bear, but at the same time, Amy couldn't ignore the persistent current of pleasure that hummed through her body as her huge jugs slowly slipped off the near side of the table, sounding wet rubber rubbed on a glass window as they moved.� Amy thought she heard the sound of steps outside the door; she gave one last pull with all her strength, and the tipping point was reached.� Her ponderous bosom rolled fluidly off the table, and slapped against her body from her chest to her thighs with a smack that echoed off the walls and such force that Amy was amazed it didn't knock her off her feet.

�� Now that she was actually carrying their full weight, her breasts felt so much heavier, ponderous beyond what she had imagined humanly possible.� Amy felt her back kinking up and struggled to find a posture that would at least get her out to her car without serious injury, and it was impossible to keep her shoulders from rolling forwards with their immense load.� Her breasts themselves fared little better.� Underneath, where all their weight was carried, they ached with excess, and Amy noted that her nipples, just as small as ever against the vast expanse of tender flesh around them, now pointed almost directly downwards, her once pert little breasts now transformed into a pair of voluptuously distended udders.� Where her breasts sprouted from her chest, Amy felt her already overtaxed tissues straining to support so much weight, her forswollen melons creaking from their nectarous burden, only just barely able to support their own ponderous immensity.

�� After a moment of worry though, Amy found that she was, by a very generous definition of the word, okay.� Though it took all her strength, she was able to stand, and it seemed that her boobs weren't going to burst like overripe tomatoes after all.� With all the dignity she could muster, Amy slipped her blouse on over her weight-rounded shoulders, grabbed her purse, and squeezed herself awkwardly through the door, slamming it behind her in one last show of defiance.

�� Six months later the same door in the same room opened once again, the fluorescent lights crackling to life as they sensed motion, illuminating a table several inches lower and several feet larger than before.� A young woman entered.� She was dressed all in black, her bobbed hair so dark it shone almost blue in the light, dark makeup artfully applied around her eyes in generous amounts, and a small silver ring in her lip.� Her black leather boots, with heels fully five inches tall and gleaming with metal buckles and studs, echoed against the hard floor, and she wore a billowy skirt that stopped just above her knees.� Most remarkably however, her flowing blouse clearly contained a pair of breasts so massive that she had recently bought a place in a converted 19^th century carriage house, simply because the trouble of squeezing her exquisitely overdeveloped bosom through normal-sized doors had gotten too annoying to endure any longer.� The speaker buzzed to life.

�� Test Subject Two-,� a woman's voice began.

�� Come on now, don't be so formal, the young woman in black interrupted with a grin, �We're old friends, aren't we?� Please, call me Amy.�

�� Oh- oh my, �The voice stammered, the woman's evident surprise satisfying Amy even more than she had dreamed, �Miss Waters, you've certainly adopted a different style than last time we met.�

�� Oh, well,� Amy said dismissively, �I could have dressed like a harem girl or a French maid today, but I find I attract enough attention even when I'm dressed a bit more conservatively.�

�� Er, yes,� the voice said, nonplussed, �We get so very few repeat experimental subjects.� I must admit, I am impressed that you evidently managed to reach someone high enough in this organization and that you were able to prevail upon them to schedule you for the reversal procedure, however experimental it may be.� You must have been very busy these past few months.�

�� Oh, I've been keeping myself occupied,� Amy admitted with an impish smile, �And while it did take a bit of doing to find your boss, I think you had better start reading your orders before making so many assumptions.�

�� What do you mean?� the woman asked with annoyance, �It says right here 'Subject Two Five Three, Amy Waters, for experimental treatment for Substance 29-J overexposure...� There has to be some mistake here.�

�� Well if there is, I'm certainly not the one who made it,� Amy said with a smile, as she began to pull her voluminous top off over her head

�� But this is- this is unprecedented,� the voice sputtered, �How could you possibly get clearance for this?� Why would you even want to?�

�� Well, someone doesn't get out very much,� Amy answered teasingly as she removed her top, �But then again, I suppose they probably don't let your kind out to play very much here, do they?�

�� Amy stood there, smiling proudly, her tremendous boobs barely contained by a black lace bra.� Even though it had plainly been custom made to support her seductively overfilled bust, the sheer size of her breasts made them lap slightly over the top, quivering with sumptuous softness at her slightest movement.� It was obvious that over the last six months Amy, constrained by the weight of her massive bust, had not exactly been getting much exercise.� Where once she was remarkably trim and slender, she was now almost chubby; her curvaceous hips bulging out over the belt of her skirt, and her rump was both considerably larger and more jigglesome than the last time she had stood in this spot.� In the small amount of space visible below her improbably suspended bust, it was clear that Amy's once toned stomach had been replaced by just enough of a belly that there could be no doubt that she had embraced a more sedentary life quite eagerly.

�� Someone certainly seems to have let herself go,� the voice sniffed, �Nothing to do all day now except sit around watching television and hoping those overinflated milk-bags of yours don't explode?�

�� Oh, on the contrary,� Amy replied, unruffled by the woman's insults, �I have spent the last few months keeping busy enough; I just thought I'd look good if I let myself go and get a bit more voluptuous.� I don't think I've ever looked better.�

�� Reaching behind herself, Amy unfastened the numerous hooks that held her bra in place, and with well-practiced grace, shrugged out of it and let it fall to the floor.� Six months of carrying such an oppressive burden had clearly taken a toll on them.� Her huge melons now hung very nearly to her knees, while their upper regions were marked with faint stretch marks that showed just how much their weight had stretched Amy's tender skin.� Her nipples, while still nowhere near in proportion to the massiveness of her cumbersome bosom, were definitely fatter than before, and most noticeably, each one was now pierced through with a small barbell, which only seemed to make them grow turgid in the cool laboratory air all the more visibly, while the tender undersides of her swollen breasts now had, in some places, a faintly purplish cast to them, as if being fattened to such an unnatural size was impairing her circulation more than a little.

�� Well, it seems you've gotten into body modification since last we met,� the voice retorted, �Really though, Miss Waters, I'm amazed that even you were foolish enough to let someone with a needle anywhere near those overglutted jugs.� But then, you're back here again, so clearly I overestimated your intelligence and sense of self-preservation before, unless you really are just a glutton for punishment.�

��

�� I might as well tell you,� Amy said with a triumphant smile, �I happen to be the biggest topless model in the internet, in more ways than the obvious ones.� I won't deny that it took me a while to get the hang of getting through the day with my girls blown up so big I could hardly walk, but these tits have made me rich and famous in a way that a job in the art department never could have.� Videos, chats, pictures; nothing too indiscreet, you understand; when a girl has gifts like mine she can afford to be choosy about her sphere of comfort; though let me tell you, there are plenty of people out there willing to pay good money to watch me have some fun with my spheres of comfort.� I can just film myself dressed like a can-can dancer, lying in bed playing around with these beauties and earn enough to pay my rent for a month.� I've even been on a couple of talk shows, and I've got more than a few networks trying to hook me for a new reality series.� Believe me, spending a half hour here transformed my life in ways someone like you couldn't possibly imagine.�

�� Well, Miss Waters, if your life is so much better now that you're dragging several hundred pounds stretch-marked sweater-meat around with you,� the voice said, �What brings you back here?�

�� Because,� Amy said with a grin, �Last time I was here I made a mistake.�

�� I can think of several that you made, Miss Waters,� the voice answered acidly, �but do tell me which one in particular you are referring to.�

�� Since you asked so nicely,� Amy said, �I stopped.�

�� I do beg your pardon,� the woman said blankly.

�� I mean that I should never have taken that pipe out of my mouth for a second,� Amy explained excitedly, �I should have spent my entire time in here sucking that tank dry and blowing my boobs up with every drop you had to give me, instead of dithering and arguing and getting all existential while the opportunity of a lifetime nearly slipped away from me.� Lucky for me that somebody in your organization seems to be a fan of my work; I was able to reach someone in a position of influence, and well, arrangements were made.�

�� What are you talking about?� the voice asked, �You're not making sense.�

�� If you're too dense to figure it out on your own,� Amy said as she stepped forwards, heaving her massive breasts onto the table in front of her, �Maybe you ought to read your instructions.�

�� Oh very well,� the woman admitted, �Subject Two Five Three, Amy Waters, for experimental treatment for Substance 29-J overexposure.� Test subject is to be dosed with Substance 29-J for the period of one hour, and will be paid the sum of twenty two thousand dollars for her participation?� This joke is in very poor taste, Miss Waters.�

�� No joke,� Amy said flatly as she reached fluidly around her vast boobs and picked up the plastic-tipped tube awaiting her attention, �I get to spend the next hour pumping my boobs full of your secret ingredient until they really are just about fit to burst, and you're going to pay me good money to do it.�

�� But surely, Miss Waters, even that much money could hardly be worth the risk,� the woman said doubtfully, �and even if your body can tolerate that much, which, judging from your present condition, seems most unlikely, do you truly want to be left with a pair of breasts even more cripplingly massive than the ones you already possess?� Even a tidy sum such as this is hardly worth that sacrifice.�

�� You dumb twat, do you think I'm doing this for the money?� Amy said with a laugh, �I make twenty grand on a slow week now; your money is nothing to me.� Once I've been sucking this stuff of yours down for an hour, just imagine how magnificent I'll be!� I'll be richer than Croesus!� But really, if we're being honest here, I just can't wait to feel that sweet taste on my tongue, and I'm just dying to feel these big, swollen, tits of mine swelling up even more.� Don't bother reading me the rest of your bureaucratic nonsense; I already signed everything at the front desk.� Just turn on the pipe and stand back, because after I'm done here, half the world is going to be tripping over themselves for a glimpse of me!�

�� Amy received no reply from the woman on the other side of the glass.� Clearly she had heard Amy though, for a moment later she heard the faint hissing of gas flowing through the pipe in her hand.� Triumphantly, Amy slipped it between her lips and sucked it ardently.� The sweet savor like strawberries melted across her tongue and filled her lungs; all the worries she had brought in with her vanished in an instant.� And then Amy Waters felt her breasts, already tantalizingly overfilled, quaking helplessly as more fat than she had imagined possible pumped into them.