Volunteers
by Mr. B.
 

 Heather was in a bind. The semester was drawing to a close, and Heather still hadn't secured a summer job. Summer was coming, and all of her college friends would soon be returning home. Since her parents died, she moved onto campus, as it was useless to return to her childhood home if her folks weren't there anymore.

 In this situation, with her money running out, Heather did what she always did. Grabbing the school newspaper, she started circling the ads for blood donors and medical research volunteers. She wasn't needle-shy, so she didn't mind giving blood, and the overnight or weekend stays at the research clinics gave her time to think and study. Both opportunities gave her easy money when she was job-hunting. Also, she had pretty good luck with winding up in the 'placebo' or control group for the medical studies. So far, she hadn't had to deal with any unwanted mood swings or bizarre side effects of some experimental drug.

 She skimmed down the columns, and one ad caught her eye. The ad said:

 $5000 in one week! This was the break she'd been looking for. One week was longer than the usual stayover, but the money offered was phenomenal compared to the typical study. She had the time, and needed the money. In the past, she had gambled her internal organs, her complexion, countless brain cells, and her sleeping habits. Now, the ante appeared to be her teacup sized breasts. "Lactation!" Heather whispered to herself, "this ought to be interesting."

 
 At the clinic, Heather read a magazine, waiting to be called. One woman had just gone in ahead of her, and a woman with the appointment after Heather chatted with the receptionist. Another young woman entered the room, and approached the receptionist, interrupting the first girl. "Hey, is this the clinic for the breast milk experiment?" the new girl said. The receptionist coolly nodded and returned to the first girl. "Oh, sorry" said the new girl, realizing her rudeness. Heather looked up from her magazine, to put a face to the noise, but was surprised to find that she was momentarily distracted from the woman's face by her outfit. The noisy woman wore guys' jeans and a less-than-new looking T-shirt, but they did little to disguise that this woman had one hell of a rack. Above her prominent bustline, her face was naturally pretty, but not made up.

 The woman caught Heather's glance at her outsized chest and shrugged, saying, "The big boobs go with my big mouth. I figured I could put 'em to some good use with this experiment!" The woman then landed firmly in one of the chairs, and Heather watched her breasts bounce with the impact, mutely nodding in agreement.

 Heather was about to exchange pleasantries with this busty newcomer, when she was called into the office.

 

 "All right miss - " the doctor said as he looked down at his clipboard "- Heather, I'm Doctor Franklin, the supervisor of this program. Basically what we're doing is, we're testing a drug that is intended to induce and stimulate lactation in new mothers that are having problems with - you guessed it - inducement and stimulation of lactation."

 "Why are you using childless women then?" Heather asked.

 "A natural question" replied the doctor. "We cannot use women who are pregnant in an experimental situation. Once an embryo, fetus, child or whatever is involved, the liability is just too great. At this stage, we can't risk any possible effects on the unborn child. What we will be doing here," he continued, "is chemically putting the candidates through a false pregnancy in about one week's time. It's sort of like the way the birth control pill mimics pregnancy so the body will not allow fertilization, only to a greater degree."

 "Each candidate will receive hormonal messages, in the form of pills or shots, that will fool the body into thinking first, that they are pregnant, and second, that they have carried to term and delivered a healthy baby. Essentially, to use a bad metaphor, we prime the pump with the false pregnancy, then we begin to try our lactation enhancer."

 "The one week stayover enables us to put the candidates through their respective chemical pregnancies in a controlled environment. Each participant can expect some of the usual side effects of pregnancy, such as a weight gain of 5 to 15 pounds, some morning sickness, and as I mentioned earlier, the preparation of the breasts for lactation. You can expect some swelling as the milk ducts develop." Heather nodded, already as familiar with the changes a woman's body goes through during pregnancy as one could be without having experienced pregnancy.  "On the plus side" the doctor continued, "there isn't any fetus that diverts nutrients from the mother, nor any lengthy, painful labor process. You may experience some uterine muscle cramping in the final phase, but nothing like actual labor pains. The 'pregnancy' and all of its effects, outside of milk production, will only last a few days beyond the initial one week stayover. Without a baby growing inside of you, there will be no varicose veins and no stretch marks."

 "So, Heather," Doctor Franklin said as he leaned forward over his desk, "do you have any questions or reservations before we start the interview?"

 Heather needed the money so badly, that she hadn't taken the time to think of possible downsides to the experiment. In a few seconds, she asked "If I am lactating, how long will it last, and what will I do with the milk? We won't be breastfeeding babies will we?"

 "No, nothing like that" Doctor Franklin answered quickly. "Each participant will be given their own breast pump, and be shown how to use it properly by an experienced female member of our staff. If all goes well, you would begin expressing milk a few days after returning home. In addition to taking vitamins and our series of lactation enhancing pills, all we ask is that you use the pump at the scheduled times for the prescribed durations, and drop off a small sample of the milk once a week for the next month. Also, keep a record of the volume of your milk production during the month. We are offering as much money as we are because of the time involved beyond the stayover. Hopefully the scheduled pumping sessions won't interfere too much with our participants' lives."

 "What about after the month is up?" asked Heather, "Will we just stop lactating?"

 "It will take some time for the milk to dry up, maybe a week or two, maybe more" Doctor Franklin intoned. "But by then you'll be an expert with the pump, and we can give you something to speed the process, of course. The backers of this experiment are being very generous. You will be well taken care of, I assure you."

 "You should find this clinic quite accommodating. The subjects will be given private rooms during their time here. We are also supplying any equipment that you'll need to take home with you. Also, we will be providing oils and lotions for your skin to keep the skin of your breasts healthy," Doctor Franklin recited, "and we're even springing for the maternity bras, above and beyond the monetary compensation. As I said, our backers are very generous."

 Heather mulled it over. She didn't have a job. She had the time. She needed the money. She knew that some day she intended to be a mother, and this could give her some mental preparation for the physical experience. It sounded like she'd walk out of here $5000 richer, and with her boobs giving milk for a month or two. This also bought her plenty of time to look for a decent summer job.

 "I'm in" Heather spoke.

 "Well, then let's begin the screening process, shall we?"
 

 Heather passed the screening process, and the next afternoon received a phone call from the clinic letting her know she was in the program.

 The week went by pretty quickly, almost like a mellow vacation. Heather and the other five participants had private rooms in a larger suite that connected to a communal bathroom, a day room, and a dining area where their meals were prepared for them. The day room had a fairly good entertainment system, with a big screen TV, VCR, CD player, the works. Nothing fancy, but all the right components were there, and the clinic supplied a decent variety of videotapes and CD's. Most of the days were spent talking with the other women in the study, when they weren't being examined, injected or busy taking pills.

 Heather remembered Lisa, or at least Lisa's breasts, from the waiting room on the screening day. Heather and Lisa became good friends, as they seemed to have a lot in common with each other. Both only children, they each had lost both of their parents, and Heather and Lisa were 'stranded' on campus while their friends went home for the summer. Lisa was a tomboy, however, and her tough girl attitude contrasted with her ultra-feminine figure. "In fact", Heather commented to herself, "she's downright stacked".

 Heather's week long chemical pregnancy was a little unsettling, but nothing worse than any of the other clinical studies she had participated in. Her emotional state resembled a roller coaster, as the doctor had her pumped full of hormones. Luckily, she could take some relaxants, as she wasn't carrying a fetus. She had to remind herself that the false pregnancy was only a formality leading to the real experiment. Her appetite surged, and she gained almost ten pounds during her week long stay. It appeared to Heather that a few of these pounds were on her chest. But eventually Sunday came, and she only had to meet with the program nurse before leaving.
 

 The nurse had finished demonstrating the breast pump, and Heather opted for a single cup model. She thought the dual cup model would make her feel like a cow. Heather felt a little silly practicing with the pump without any milk coming out. As she packed the pump into her bag, and pulled her bra straps back over her shoulders, the nurse produced a measuring tape, and Heather knew what came next. She removed her blouse, fully exposing her newly swelling bosom. Her stretchy B cup bra was now clearly underqualified. She dropped the straps again, undid the clasp in front, and her boobs relaxed into their new voluptuousness.

 The nurse went through the measuring routine with military precision. "Stand up straight. Arms up. Arms down. Lean over. Stand up. Thank you" the nurse drilled. "You are a C cup, miss" the nurse said, and Heather reached to the shelf of C cup maternity bras. "You'll want to take the next size too, dear" the nurse advised. "Once your milk production improves, you'll be glad you had a little room to grow."

 Heather put the C in her bag and sorted through the D cup bras for her size. She looked at the circumference of the cup and realized for the first time just how large a D cup really was. She was also surprised to find that someone was seriously proposing that she would be filling out this bra! Heather noticed that the cups were not only big, but they were padded to boot.

 "The padding is to soak up any leakage, not for cosmetic purposes" the nurse said, smiling at Heather's wondrous expression. "Also, take two, so you can have one to wash, one to wear, should you find yourself leaking. Try to unhook the flaps now, before you're wearing it."

 Heather put the second bra in her bag. She fiddled with the flaps of the other bra and wondered how Tom would react to see her fill out a bonafide D cup brassiere. "Hell, how would I react?" she mused to herself.

 Heather moved out of the nurse's room and back toward the reception area. She stopped at the desk to receive her pills and dosage instructions, wondering if she would be getting the placebo or the real thing. She giggled to herself, thinking about the D cup bra again. She was pleased to see her breasts had grown to a full C, but hadn't expected she would ever be any bigger.

 After a little paperwork, everything was in order, and Heather returned home.
 

 Heather spent Sunday unpacking, doing laundry, and reviewing the directions she was given at the clinic. She took the pills at the prescribed times, and watched TV as she pumped her breasts. Though her breasts had swollen up to the limits of the C cups, they had yet to yield any milk. But, for the kind of money she was getting, Heather was not about to argue with the simple requests that were placed upon her. She was getting the hang of the breast pump, and felt an occasional twinge in her nipples that was downright erotic.

 Monday morning, her breasts were a bit fuller than in recent days, and she had a hunch that today her milk would begin to flow. She had never seen such firm breasts. Although her first pumping session of the day turned up dry, the early afternoon session rewarded Heather with a small but steady trickle from her left breast, soon to be matched from her right. She stored the first samples, only a few ounces each from each breast, and called the clinic to report that her milk had come in. She noted down the date, time and quantity in her clinic journal. So far so good.

 

 Thursday, just four days after her milk came in, Heather was beginning to doubt her decision to volunteer for the program. Clearly, she did not receive the placebos as she had hoped. Her breasts had been getting bigger since she came home from the clinic. The D-cup maternity bra she had taken from the clinic was running out of give. The bra now only fit properly when she had just emptied her milk supply. Then, over the course of the next half hour, her breasts filled with milk and overfilled her bra. The doctor had been so forthright about everything so far, except for how big her breasts would get and how much milk she would produce. Heather's breasts, at their fullest, were easily the size of softballs, but they were hardly soft. Two weeks ago she never thought she'd be staring at her breasts, now more than tripled in size and producing almost two gallons of milk a day. Suspicious that she was doing something wrong, she had checked her directions so many times that she had them memorized. She had expected to milk herself eight times a day, and once at night. She was keeping her log of the volume pumped, and she had expected to see it increase. She was taking lactation enhancers, after all, but she wasn't expecting such copious output.

 She looked back on the last few days. That Tuesday night, Heather awoke in the night twice - once by her alarm for her scheduled milking, and the second time by the pressure of her full breasts aching to be milked. She stared down in the dark at the outline of her two milk filled mounds, reaching for the ceiling. Unbuttoning her sleep shirt, she could see her nipples, now darkened a shade or two, capping her taut skinned boobs. When her breasts were filled like this, they took on the shape of two halves of a football, even lying down. It was almost morning, so she fought off the urge until her regularly scheduled A.M. pumping session. The rest of Wednesday followed suit. Heather found herself fighting the urge to express her breastmilk before she was scheduled. Wednesday night, she hardly slept. As she got ready for bed, her breasts were already sticking almost straight out from her ribcage, so full with milk that they felt like huge tomatoes. Her 2:00 A.M. pumping took longer than any of her previous sessions ever had.

 A few hours later, Heather was ready to accept that there was a problem. Her breasts were not going to stop producing milk, and if anything, she was producing more and more. She could pump out the milk, letting her breasts regain some semblance of softness, and within 15 minutes, they firmed up with another load of mother's milk. It was getting hard to get involved in anything, or even leave the house for extended periods of time, as her breasts were beginning to demand constant attention.

 With the sun coming up, Heather decided she had to call the doctor as soon as the clinic opened. She jumped in the shower, and the warmth of the water allowed her engorged breasts to let down the milk continuously as she washed up. The water running down from her nipples, along the full, round undersides of her mammaries to her stomach was tinted with her milk. As she soaped up her breasts, Heather was relieved to find that the pressure of her relentless lactation had diminished. Squeezing her breasts, however, still caused tiny jets of milk to spray out into the shower stall. Her breasts, once soft and delicate, now grew firmer and firmer each time they were laden with milk. Heather remained in the shower, expertly massaging and manipulating her breasts until she had sent all of her current milk supply down the drain.

 Heather jumped out of the shower and dried off, her breasts soft again. She looked in the mirror at her once polite bosom, now expanded to an impressive size through modern chemicals. Handfuls once, her breasts were beginning to approach armful in size. She didn't mind the size, though, it was the constant milking that was the problem. "Now I'm beginning to feel like a cow" she thought to herself. "Pretty soon I'll need to be hooked up to one of those farm machines". Heather found the clinic's number and reached for the phone, her breasts momentarily emptied, but already slowly distending.

 "Yes, Doctor Franklin, please" Heather said, when the receptionist answered. The wait seemed almost interminable, though it was only a few minutes. Heather regretted not grabbing her pump before phoning. She could see it sitting on the sink back in the bathroom, but she knew the phone cord wouldn't reach that far. As she waited listening to the clinic's elevator music, her breasts were filling out slowly, and she tried to ignore the increasing feeling of pressure within them. Her fingers gently touched the underside of one heavy lobe, feeling it's weight.

 "Hello?" the doctor finally said.

 "Doctor Franklin, this is Heather, one of your volunteers from the breast milk experiment, and I think I'm having a problem" Heather began. "My milk came in a few days ago, like I told you, and I've been pumping and taking the right pills according to schedule, but now the milk is always flowing. As soon as I pump myself dry, I'm ready to express again in half an hour. I'm getting worried. Oh, also, I'm just about out of the pills."

 "Are you in any discomfort?" the doctor asked.

 "Only when I don't pump the milk out, I get pretty sensitive to any movement" Heather answered. "I didn't think there would be this much milk! I'm pumping so often, I'm losing track, and my breasts are - they're staring to look pretty ridiculous."

 "I think you should come back to the clinic" Doctor Franklin said promptly. "I'd like to do some tests, and we may need to keep you overnight, or possibly for the weekend, to make sure we've got this under control. Would that be all right?"

 "I'll be right there" Heather said with relief. "Thank you, Doctor Franklin."

 "Don't forget to pack a bag" the doctor reminded her. They both hung up.

 Heather quickly packed for a weekend stay, as she had done so many times before in her experiment-funded college career. Trying to dash about nimbly, she became more aware of the intrusion of her new breasts on her life. While her teacup boobs once jiggled slightly with each step, her inflated, unbridled D cups (at least) had WEIGHT. When she walked, the mass of each breast made itself known. Not only did Heather feel the difference as she moved, she couldn't ignore the change in her view of the world - when she looked down, she saw less of the ground and more of her burgeoning bust. When her breasts filled up with milk, they stood nearly straight out from her chest, her maternity bra only serving to smooth out her nipples. As she pulled the straps over her shoulders and vainly adjusted the once unfillable cups, she could see that her breasts were again full of mother's milk. Trying to get dressed, Heather couldn't comfortably pull her favorite T-shirt over her fleshy protuberances. She pulled it back off in frustration, and grabbed a button up shirt from the closet. As she fastened the top few buttons, she noticed that she had to reach further out than down to reach them. Next she found herself strategically placing each hefty breast on either side of her leg as she tied each shoe.

 For a moment, Heather thought of the girl she met in the waiting room, wondering if she was in the program and if the busty girl was having the same problem. Next Heather wondered how big that girl's boobs must be by now, if she was in the same circumstance.

 Heather was glad she had opted for a larger, button-up shirt. As she was about to leave for the clinic, she decided she couldn't wait any longer to pump out her milk. "Damn, I'm already full again" Heather thought. She opened the shirt, lowered the flaps on both cups and grabbed her pump. As she was positioning her left breast and the pump, the milk had already begun to flow from the nipple. Heather moved to the sink, leaned over it, and began pumping. Only seconds later, her right breast began to let down her milk in sympathy with the left, dribbling down the front of the distended mound and onto her right arm. Now she really wished she had taken the pump with the twin cups.

 Heather alternated breasts as soon as the one pint reservoir was filled and dumped. As she pumped her right breast, her left continued to leak. In her impatience, she tried squeezing one nipple as the other was pumped, and was briefly  rewarded with dozens of small streams of milk, more little streams than in the shower. This arrangement proved too awkward, and Heather returned to focusing on the pump. Pouring out another pint of milk, she returned to her left breast, both of her arms wet with leaking milk, unable to avoid her own boobs. Minutes later, Heather was back to her right side, and soon after, her left, and once more her right. Her supply temporarily drained, and her breasts overflowing her bra only slightly, Heather buttoned up and headed out the door.

 Heather found driving with her new endowments was more challenging than usual. She didn't even bother with the seat belt. Normally, Heather liked to lean back a bit, and drive with arms straight out. Now she found herself trying to get close enough to the wheel so she could reach around her milk filled breasts. She tried driving with her right hand only, turned slightly to the left to avoid putting any pressure on her swollen mammaries. At each sharp turn, however, Heather had to use both arms, and found her breasts being squeezed between them. If her boobs weren't so firm with milk, they could have sagged a bit, giving her arms some clearance. In her engorged state, Heather almost couldn't avoid bumping and jostling the protruding mounds on her chest.

 As she crossed the parking lot to the clinic, her first public appearance with her new endowments, she became aware of how much her body had changed in just under two weeks. Entering the clinic, she felt like everyone was staring at her breasts. Heather tried to unobtrusively cross her arms in front of her breasts, but to no avail. In her burdened state, her arms could only fold over or under her protruding bosom. As her self-consciousness faded, she realized that other than the receptionist, she was alone.

 At the clinic, she was quickly admitted behind the closed office doors and taken to an examination room.
 

 As Doctor Franklin strode in, followed by a nurse, he found Heather with her shirt already unbuttoned, pumping her right breast while holding a gauze pad to soak up the milk leaking from the left. "I'm sorry, I couldn't take the pressure..." Heather said as she tried to cover herself up, her big boobs bouncing clumsily.

 "No, I'm sorry I didn't knock" Doctor Franklin apologized. The last time he had seen Heather, she had average breasts. So average, that he couldn't clearly remember anything remarkable about her figure. Now she stood before him unable to hide her endowments.  "Please, don't be uncomfortable. I'm a doctor, remember?" he said, calmly and professionally. Heather smiled sheepishly, and turned back to face him, dropping her arms. "May I take a look?"

 Heather stood still, but her milk dribbled out of both nipples unchecked. She was near tears.

 After a few minutes of questions, answers, and a clinical, professional examination of Heather's mammaries , Doctor Franklin had his diagnosis. "Apparently, the pills work better than I thought they would. Your breasts are healthy, very healthy" the doctor spoke as Heather struggled tried to fit into her bra. "Heather, what size is that bra?"

 "Umm...34-D" Heather replied.

 Again, with complete professionalism, Doctor Franklin failed to react positively or negatively. "Could you bring a 34-DD for Heather?" he asked the nurse. The nurse turned and promptly left. "Heather, I'd like to make a proposal to you", the doctor started, turning back to face Heather. She sat on the examination table, listening, with her hands on her opposite shoulders, the outsides of her breasts bulging from behind her arms. "This experiment is very important to the backers. We have so few participants, I'd hate to have to throw away your case if we don't follow through to the end of the program. I'd like you to continue the program for another couple of days, at least, if you could. I'd like you to stay the weekend under our observation. This extreme volume of milk production may only be a temporary anomaly, or perhaps the lactation enhancers work better than we thought. Either way, we'd like to be sure."

 Heather was about to ask if anyone else had reported any problems, when Doctor Franklin continued, "If you do leave the program - which I will fully understand -you will still receive some of the money, but less than half, certainly, at this point." He knew how to work it, Heather thought to herself. Her next thought involved how she had become a human cow for $5000.
 

 Heather set herself up in the same private room she had throughout the initial stay. She made herself comfortable in the day room, and turned on the TV.  After a couple of hours alone, a routine of milking, questions and waiting, she heard the locks to the suite being thrown. She expected to see the doctor, or someone else from the staff, but instead, she was greeted with the vision of a rather busty woman. In fact, she recognized the girl from her earlier stay.

 "Hi, I'm Amy, I remember you from the first time" the girl spoke. "I hear you had the same problem I'm having" she continued, gesturing up at her chest. Heather and Amy exchanged pleasantries, and then compared their 'problems'. Amy didn't seem quite as bad off as Heather. She didn't need to milk as frequently, but it was still a nuisance.

 An hour later, as Amy and Heather were discussing the finer points of operating the breast pumps, the locks turned again. They turned to see the biggest pair of breasts either of them had ever seen on such a slim set of legs. The display belonged to Lisa.

 Heather instantly remembered the top-heavy, noisy girl from the waiting room, and of course from their first stay at the clinic. "O.K., girls, you can close your mouths now" Lisa snapped. Heather and Amy realized, in fact, their mouths were open. Lisa's breasts were far and away larger than either Heather's or Amy's. Lisa's boobs preceded her by a foot, like two footballs held under her shirt.
 
 Lisa's story was much like their own, except for the sheer size of her bust.

 The girls spent the night talking and milking, talking and milking. Lisa and Amy had opted for the double cup pumps, while Heather still serviced her engorged breasts one at a time. Out of curiosity, Heather again tried squeezing one nipple while pumping the other, and now she was having trouble estimating the number of tiny white jets streaming out. Some were so close together, they blended into a larger stream.

 The next morning, after brief checkups by the doctor and his nurse, the three lactating ladies were not surprised to witness the readmittance of the other three girls from the program, each in the same state of distress. Heather, Lisa and Amy could all comfort the newcomers with the news that the doctor had gotten their milk production under control. The girls had all slept soundly through the night, except for their regularly scheduled pumping sessions. Granted, the vastness of their breasts had not diminished, but at least things were under control.
 

 Lisa grew antsy as the weekend passed. Sunday drew near, and the doctor and his staff offered no sign that any of them would be going home soon. Lisa decided to try to check herself out. She found, of course, that the doors to the suite were locked from the outside.  Upon the doctor's return, she declared herself an unvolunteer. Her bags were packed, and she was going to leave this experiment behind.

 "I'm sorry Lisa, I can't let you go just yet" Doctor Franklin retorted.

 "Wrong. I'm leaving. Money or no money, you can't keep me here, penned up like some cow! Now open the damn door and get out of my way!" the stupendously stacked Lisa demanded.

 "I was afraid it would come to this" Doctor Franklin lamented. "I can't afford to displease my backers, and therefore, I can't afford to let you go. I don't wish to threaten, as it's not my ....."

 "What are you going to do?" Lisa interrupted. "Make an example out of me?"

 "Oh, I'll make an example out of you, all right", the doctor retorted. "Let me come clean with all of you ladies. We have the knowledge, apparently, to stimulate breast growth and lactation. We have the knowledge to discourage them as well. But this experiment is helping us find the ability and limits of both cases. We don't have a complete control of the effects, we don't have a grasp of the dosage yet. One of the pills you've been taking since your return is definitely for your own good. It contains the hormonal signal to stop your breasts from developing - that is both to stop increasing in size and to stop germinating any more milk ducts. Simply put, without that pill, your breasts will grow unchecked -", he then stared into Lisa's eyes for emphasis, " - or at least until I've made a big enough example out of you. Already your breasts have gotten big enough to become a slight nuisance from time to time, no? Those ladies that behave themselves will walk out of here with breasts that will still be bigger than when you first came to me, but nothing that can't be disguised a bit."

 The women looked down at their chests and back at the doctor, exasperated. "How am I supposed to 'disguise' these?" Heather said, cupping one breast with both hands.

 "Think about this," he continued, "who is going to believe that you were held against your will? You've signed the papers. And what are you going to tell people - a mad scientist forced me to grow bigger boobs and give milk!?!" After a momentary pause to let his point soak in, Doctor Franklin added, "Besides, we're not mad scientists. We understand that things are not going as planned, but we also cannot afford to start over. We can, however, afford to double your money for your troubles."
 
  "Don't worry," the doctor intoned "after we're done with our experiment, you'll be dry, and your breasts should decrease in size some. Not back to your original sizes, but I don't think you'll complain. But you, little miss tough girl," he said as he turned to point at Lisa "will find out first hand the power that we do, in fact, hold over your bodies. The rest of you can watch and learn. You shall know if I am bluffing by this time tomorrow."

 "So," the doctor continued, staring at Lisa "we actually come out ahead. One, there is no need for any physical violence to keep any of you, should any of you decide to 'unvolunteer', and two," he said as he held up his fingers to Lisa for emphasis "if YOU tell our little story, with the shape you'll be in, people just might believe you were telling the truth!"

 With the ultimatum laid down, the doctor turned and exited, accompanied by the familiar sound of the lock - unlock - lock rhythm.

 Lisa spoke first. "Me and my big mouth" she mumbled softly, and sat down.
 
 The dayroom immediately filled with the sound of all of the women chattering at once. Most of them cast nervous glances at Lisa as they debated the validity of the doctor's threat. Heather sat next to Lisa, still trying to keep up the tough girl exterior, and decided she didn't know what to say, after all.

 After some time passed, the mood settled down, and people began speaking more rationally, and less emotionally. The general topics, however, remained the same - could they believe the doctor, and, what would happen to Lisa. Heather now found some words for her friend. "I know the only reason he's going to punish you is because you spoke up for us - all of us. If it makes you feel any better, when the pills come, I won't take any pill they give me that you don't get."
 
 "Why would you chance it, Heather? I don't think he's bluffing" Lisa said.

 "Oh big deal, so we'll have big boobs! Maybe even really big boobs! So what!" Heather returned, smirking as she said it. "Anyway, I mean this as a gesture of support, a gesture of solidarity. We need to stick together both now and after this whole affair goes down. So far the doc has been a man of his word. I believe we're getting out of here, whole and healthy and even well paid, but I also believe that afterward no one will understand what we've been through but ourselves. We'll need each other after more than we need each other now. Do you understand?"

 Lisa nodded thoughtfully. "Well, then let me thank you now, and let me say that if you decide you'd rather not chance it, I'll understand." Gesturing to her chest, Lisa added "how much more can these things grow, anyway?" unable to completely hide her nervousness.
 
 

 Later that evening, the 'interns' came in during dinner to dispense the P.M. medication. As promised, Lisa came up one pill short. Heather and Lisa compared their doses to identify the missing pill. Heather's extra pill, presumably the growth inhibitor hormone, was a translucent yellow gel cap, about a half an inch long.

 "Why don't we try to split it?" Heather volunteered.

 "How?" replied Lisa, looking at the yellow gelcap.

 "Cut it in half, and swallow it as fast as we can" Heather responded as confidently as she could.

 "O.K., if you say so" Lisa said as she grabbed her knife.

 The gelcap split open easily enough, coating Lisa's knife blade with sticky yellow goo. Heather grabbed for her half before any more of the hormonal fluid could run out. Lisa followed suit, and both sucked their fingers clean. Lisa offered Heather the knife, saying "You're doing me the favor. I insist that you clean the rest off the knife." Heather carefully licked the knife blade. The two finished their meals, and talked about anything but the doctor's threat.
 
 

 In the night, the doctor's threat became reality. Heather was awakened from her tenuous sleep by Lisa. "I think it's starting" Lisa whispered. A few seconds later, Heather sat upright, realizing what Lisa meant.

 After quickly taking stock in her own sense of physical well-being, Heather asked "what do you mean 'it's started'?"

 "It's more like something has stopped" replied Lisa. "My body has run out of the growth inhibitor, and I can feel something happening in my breasts. It doesn't hurt or anything. It reminds me of when they first started us on our false pregnancies. They just feel fuller than normal - well normal by my latest definition of normal."

 Both women looked down at Lisa's breasts. They looked the same as they did earlier that day. Big. Too big.

 Their talking had roused the other women from their nervous, dreamless sleep. They all gathered around Lisa.

 "Lisa, you are sweating a bit" Heather mentioned.

 "Yeah. And I think this sensation is turning into a definite pang. In fact, it's getting a little uncomfortable" Lisa said, still holding onto her tough girl act.

 "And," Heather added, "I think they are bigger now."

 At this remark, everyone offered their own assessment of the state of Lisa's breasts.

 Only Lisa knew how much fuller and heavier her breasts were feeling. Soon enough, she knew, the difference would be clearly visible.

 The women stood silently in a half circle staring at Lisa, or rather Lisa's swollen breasts. Lisa stayed as still as possible, eyes closed, trying to ignore the pressure in her breasts.

 After a few minutes, someone whispered "oh my God."

 Lisa opened her eyes, and looked at everybody staring at her chest. She moved her eyes downward to find that the increase in her already huge breasts was clearly visible.

 Nobody was going to sleep that night.

 For the first two hours, nobody was more attentive to Lisa than Heather. Lisa's breasts continued to slowly increase in size, and so did the pain. Lisa's breasts were gaining both tissue and milk. Her fellow volunteers brought in the oil for the stretching skin. Heather dutifully aided Lisa, emptying the small wastebasket each time Lisa filled it with her milk, all the while knowing she would wind up in the same state.

 After two hours, Lisa was moaning off and on, as her breasts were slowly expanding outwards and down towards her lap. She knew this would continue until breakfast, when the interns brought their morning medication. At this rate, she knew she would end up with breasts that would be bigger than basketballs, maybe as big as beach balls. The way her milk was starting to flow, they just might be as firm as, but much heavier than, two pink basketballs.

 At sunrise, Lisa leaned back in her chair, sitting straight as she could, and she could still feel her breasts touching her thighs. Her nipples were even with her knees. Heather saw this, and realized that she was heading for the same fate. Her breasts had started expanding too, but she was afraid to tell anyone yet. With all of the attention on Lisa, no one had noticed yet. Heather had managed to make a few trips into the bathroom to express her increasing flow of milk and appraise the size of her breasts. As her boobs were now each as big as her head, it wouldn't be long before she could no longer hide her further development.

 Lisa looked at Heather, and Heather nodded with a glance to her chest. Lisa sighed and looked at her behemoth bosom, resting on her lap. "Heather, if you hadn't split that pill with me, who knows how big they'd be by now? I can't thank you enough" Lisa said.

 "Hey, no problem" Heather said. "It looks like I won't grow too much more before this morning's pills arrive."
 

 The doctor accompanied the interns this morning, specifically to check on Lisa and assert his domination over the group.

 Doctor Franklin quickly assessed the situation, seeing that Lisa's breasts, although gigantic by any standards, were not as enormous as he had expected. He also saw that Heather was trying in vain to cover up her own growth.

 "I wish it didn't come to this" he said shaking his head. "I had hoped that Lisa would be example enough not to disobey my wishes. But it looks like someone else has tried to circumvent me" he said, almost casually, while gesturing towards Heather's bloated breasts. He returned to the spectacle of Lisa's severely overdeveloped mammaries.  "Give that poor girl her medicine!" the doctor barked at an intern while pointing to Lisa. Lisa sat silent and puffy eyed, cradling her monstrous breasts as best she could, letting out a huge sigh of relief. She quickly grabbed the inhibitor gelcap from the intern and swallowed it dry. Tired and defeated, she slowly got up and shuffled back to her room, her massive mammaries swaying ponderously before her, breast pump in one hand.

 "You will not receive the same kindness" Doctor Franklin hissed as he turned back to Heather. "You will not share your pills with your friends. You will not erode my control of this experiment. You will not receive the inhibitor for twenty four hours. You will not talk your way out of this. You will not make this mistake again."

 The interns had distributed the morning doses to everyone but Heather. Doctor Franklin motioned for everyone to swallow their pills. The others complied dutifully, and guiltily, and then headed off to the dining area, as the tension in the room was making it hard to breathe. The doctor took Heather's pills in hand, removed the inhibitor, and handed them back. Without a word, he left the room.

 Heather could hardly swallow the pills that were left. She hardly felt hungry, after this mornings commotion, so she returned to her room. On the way, she looked in on Lisa, already asleep. Lisa lay quietly on her side, her overgrown breasts extending in front of her almost to the edge of the bed. Heather ran her hands over the expanse of her own bosom, and tried to comfort herself. Her breasts were not as big as Lisa's were when they started this crazy experiment, but she was going to go without the growth inhibitor a lot longer.

 Minutes later, like Lisa, Heather fell into the sleep of the exhausted.
 

 Six hours later, Heather awoke. As she returned to full consciousness, she became aware of an incredible pressure inside of her breasts.

 Her breasts!

  Her breasts had slowly grown unchecked for six hours. Heather's chest looked like two of the biggest watermelons she had ever seen, only they were somehow implanted in her breasts. Her cleavage extended almost as far as her wrists. With effort, she rolled onto her back, and despite their mighty weight, after spreading out a bit, her massive udders still pointed at the ceiling. They also hampered her breathing. The bedsheets were wet with the milk that had leaked out as she slept. Her breasts felt like they would rip open if they could. With some effort, Heather sat up in bed, and felt the heavy weight of her now immense mammaries pressing on her chest...and her legs.  She leaned over to the nightstand, fighting the sheer mass of her breasts, and grabbed her breast pump. At the sound of the small motor, both of her breasts let down into a steady flow of milk all over her legs and onto the already wet sheets.

 Heather wondered if she would be able to stand up under the weight of her breasts by the time her punishment was over. For the most part, all she could think of was emptying her breasts. She rolled back onto her side, and then up onto her knees with her hands on the mattress, and her breasts squashed under her. She held the position for a few minutes, breathing quietly, and felt her breasts growing

 Next, she sat on the edge of the bed, one huge breast swaying between her legs over the knee high garbage can, dribbling milk into it. The other rested on one leg, the breast pump working her nipple. The machine ran and ran, as reservoir after reservoir of milk was emptied into the garbage can. Steadily Heather was filling the can with her relentless lactation.

 Again, she toyed with the free nipple, pulling on it from the base to tip. Each motion was followed by the sound of splashing milk. She stopped the pump, and watched as she rolled her fingers down the length of her thumb-sized nipple. She had developed so many milk-ducts that their tiny streams collected together into one forceful gush. Heather realized she was milking herself like a cow.

 She leaned over the pail, trying to hold both nipples over at the same time, but the girth of her udders prevented such a position. She was perfecting her farmer's technique as the level of the milk reached the top of the pail. Short of dousing her room/cell with her own milk, Heather knew she would have to face the others as she took the pail to be emptied.

 Heather found balancing her gigantic globes a task not to be taken lightly. As she took a few tentative steps forward, the underslopes of her breasts made contact with the upper reaches of her thighs. She wrapped a damp sheet around herself, and opened the door.

 To Heather's relief, nobody acted shocked to see her petite frame burdened with two corpulent, milk-filled, pink watermelons. Lisa's ordeal had taken the edge off of Heather's rapid transformation from merely stacked to hypertrophied.
 
 Heather passed through the day room, emptied the pail, and returned to her room uneventfully. Certainly as uneventful as waking up with your breasts inflated like carnival balloons can be. The doctor had certainly knocked the wind out of all of the women. While Heather had slept, the others passively went about the business of being scientific test subjects.

 Heather returned to her room to continue milking, and made two more trips before she was done. At least she was too hungry to continue. She sat with Lisa at dinner, and they ate quietly, reaching over their massive endowments. At the start of the meal, it was hard to say who had the largest breasts. As mammoth as their mammaries were, a few inches here or there meant nothing. By dinner's end, Heather's breasts had easily surpassed Lisa's dimensions. Both women were ready to milk.

 Back in her room, Heather found she was just able to reach her nipples. It took some effort to pull the ends of her bloated bosom closer towards herself. She resumed her usual position, one behemoth breast resting on one leg, attended by the pump, the other hanging over the pail. She managed to fill another three pails with her milk. With each trip through the day room, she could feel her breasts covering more of her abdomen and thighs. With each trip, more of her downward view was filled with flesh. With each trip, she avoided looking at the clock.

 Her milk and her energy drained, Heather took a twenty minute catnap.

 Somewhat refreshed, Heather returned to her routine. As at dinner, her breasts were visibly larger. "Bigger than watermelons now" she thought. If she had taken the time to find an object to compare to the size of her breasts, she may have realized she reached the volume of two large kitchen garbage bags, filled with milk and flesh and covered in pale, white skin.

 She leaned forward onto her left breast as her left hand reached out to the nipple and her right hand tried to find a purchase on the taut skin. Her outstretched fingers brushed the nipple then...

 "Oh no" Heather whispered to herself as her nipple slipped from her fingers. She knew it may come to this. She had been stretching her arms as far as they could to keep a hold of her nipples. At the same time, she had been squeezing her breasts as flat as she could make the flesh balloons be. If only her amazing udders were soft like pillows, she could probably still reach. She sat motionless, and watched as her gigantic breasts started to swell.

 Heather could feel her milk coming in with a vengeance. She was powerless to stop it. As her milk filled her breasts, her breasts filled her lap. The skin smoothed out as each mighty mammary kicked into overdrive. Heather looked on as the ends of her boobs grew further away from her hands. The base of each great breast expanded as far as they could on her rib cage, and started extending to her sides and toward her bellybutton. In her seated position, her tits extended well over and beyond her knees, but the pressure of the milk kept them from drooping down.

 Heather's breasts continued growing. She began to moan from the pain.

 Her nipples grew turgid with unexpressed milk. Swelling faster and faster, Heather was trying everything to relieve the pressure in her mighty breasts. She reached her arms down the outsides of both mountains of flesh and squeezed as hard as she could. She continued to squeeze, working from the base of her breasts forward as far as she could manage. Her tiny hands could feel her breasts enlarging, her skin tightening. The sheer weight of her endowments pulled her forward, and her back grew tired fighting gravity. She relaxed her back and leaned forward into a kneeling position, letting her breasts rest on the floor. Now, her arms only extended to six inches from the edges of her aureole, her relentless growth continuing to increase the distance, but her technique was starting to work. Soon, each time she pushed her hands into her tumescent flesh, she was blessed with the sound of two jets of milk spraying onto the floor.

 Lisa had heard her bountiful friend's distress, and moved into the day room as quickly as she could with her own overenlarged breasts. She pounded at the locked door that led out of their prison, yelling for Doctor Franklin.

 Heather frantically carried on her milking as her breasts continued to increase in size.  Her milk was flowing now, even unaided, but not fast enough to overtake her production. As tired as she was getting, Heather continued to squeeze her expanding boobs. Judging by the change in the sound, her milk was now spraying onto the nearest wall. Her chemically overdriven mammary glands continued to make more and more milk. Bigger, fatter and larger they grew. Her skin tightened to feel slick against her fingers. So burdened with milk, her breasts became perfectly round at their widest point.

 Finally, just as Heather thought she would burst, the doctor entered the room, followed by Lisa. Without a word, he plunged a hypodermic needle into each overblown breast. Emptying the chamber of each, he withdrew and quickly replaced each needle with another. As the doctor was injecting the blessed growth inhibitor, Heather continued milking.

 "We'll have to help her milk until the inhibitor gets through her blood stream" the doctor said, but Lisa was already tending to the nipples that Heather could no longer reach. Lisa expertly rolled Heather's distended nipples between her thumb and forefinger, drawing out stream after stream of white fluid, just as she had learned to do on herself.

 
 After milking Heather non-stop for an hour, her mighty breasts were finally empty. Also, they had ceased growing.

 Heather finally broke the silence "What am I supposed to do with breasts like these? Can't you please make the milk stop?" Heather slowly stood up, her giant breasts swaying before her, crowding the small room. She slowly turned to sit on the bed, and Lisa and the doctor watched as several feet of Heather's flesh passed closely by. On the bed, Heather leaned against the wall, covering most of the surface as her immense endowments obscured her legs and spread out to her sides. "My god..." Heather uttered, as she tried to cover herself with the blanket.
 
 "We've got everything under control now, Heather. At the risk of sounding callous, I must admit that you can no longer serve our study" Doctor Franklin replied. "We have however, learned what can happen if our drugs are not carefully administered. I'm sorry to have taken such extreme measures with you ladies, but I'll never be able to fully explain what has been at stake here. You will be amply compensated for your troubles, both of you. My backers will cover any reduction surgery you might elect, and help to subsidize you in your lives. I expect that you will, at the very least, have some difficulty in obtaining wardrobes. You know that I have been a man of my word."

 Lisa and Heather nodded, as their preposterous breasts were undeniable evidence of his promises kept.

 "You may find returning to your lives a bit - awkward" he continued. "If you so desire, my backers can create new lives for you. It's no coincidence that all of you are, as you may have noticed, unattached, financially unstable, and orphaned. We have specifically chosen women in your situation, in case this situation should arise, it's much easier to help you start over if there are less strings attached. We can discuss your futures in further detail, if you choose to take the help of my backers. You have seen the lengths we have gone through already, and from this you might surmise the sort of power that they have."

 "You may not have considered just how useful your new endowments may be, but our backers have thought of everything. Obviously, either of you could be the best damn wet-nurses this world has ever seen" Doctor Franklin said, smirking a bit. "There are, however, many other lines of work you may not have considered. Your special attributes are extremely valuable.  I can tell you that you may find working for my people very rewarding in every way imaginable. I'll leave you two to think about your futures. When you're ready to talk, I'll be back." The doctor took one last look at the women, Lisa, looking like she was stealing two basketballs under her stressed T-shirt, and Heather, almost half buried under her mountainous mammaries, and left the room.

 Heather and Lisa pondered the future.