THE BIG DAY...
By Gunslinger



Bu-beep... Bu-beep... Bu-beep...

Groaning wearily, Michelle Sandhurst (Micki, to everyone on the planet except her mother), reached over and slapped the top of the small, black plastic noise-maker, then rolled over, sliding her strong, toned arms under the pillow and cuddling up to it...

Then a second alarm went off. This one, however, was in her head. Unlike the alarm clock, this one didn't 'beep' - instead, it nudged at her dim consciousness, pointing out a pertinent fact...

This was the fourth time she'd slapped the 'snooze' button.

Micki's blue-gray eyes popped open, and she spun in the bed to stare at the glowing red numerals on the clock's LCD display.

8:21.

�Oh, shit!� Micki swore, eyes first widening in shock - then narrowing in frustrated anger. �He promised me this wouldn't happen!�

Throwing the covers aside, Micki swung her long, toned legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. In that one instant, her naked body was centered in the golden morning sunlight streaming in the window of her bedroom...

...and the vision it created was one that many of her coworkers would have paid dearly to see.

She was tall - six feet, two inches to be exact. Six feet and two inches of firm, toned, and most definitely - or defiantly - feminine flesh, tanned a golden bronze by the sun, which the morning's glow turned into gleaming twenty-four carat for that one instant. While not overly muscular, Micki's body was fantastically fit and toned, with the lithe build of an endurance athlete. Her face was strong-willed and intelligent, as well as very attractive in a coolly sultry way, missing out from either 'beautiful' or 'sexy' by only a few points in either direction, and was currently surrounded by a sleep-mussed mane of shoulder-length silky black hair. She was a stunning, leggy, athletic monument to athletically sensual femininity, with a taut body, slender waist, and firm, high-set breasts just a tad on the 'small' size for a woman of her stature. It was no wonder that she'd earned the nick-name 'the Amazon' while in high-school - though it could have been a snide shot at an over-muscled 'butch' girl, in her case it was used in reverent awe of her sensual and athletic build and looks that somehow didn't detract a whit from her femininity.

All of which, however, Micki considered her greatest curse...

Mumbling under her breath, she hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower, being careful not to get her hair wet - she just didn't have time for it to dry this morning. She washed quickly and efficiently, her own, toned body so familiar under her fingertips that she didn't pay much attention to it - a fact that those self-same coworkers would have disappointed to learn, because in their imaginations, watching Micki shower would have been more... entertaining.

Toweling off just as briskly, Micki padded back to the bedroom, glad she'd laid her clothes out the night before - though the truth was, she hadn't done it to be efficient, but so that she could admire them. Even now, rushed for time, she couldn't help but pause and look them over, pride swelling behind the taut mounds of her breasts.

The boots, spit-shined to such a mirror finish that it was only with difficulty you could tell that the leather itself was black. The khaki slacks, with a black strip running up the outside seam of each leg. The glossy black leather belt, with every piece of equipment in place, the butt-end of each bullet gleaming like gold from it's loop in the belt. The khaki shirt, with it's small U.S. flag sewn above the right pocket, the state crest on the right shoulder - and, perfectly aligned above the left pocket, just above the small, brass name-plaque that read 'SANDHURST' - her badge, identifying her as a Georgia State Trooper. Not an 'Auxiliary', as her badge had read for so long - but a full-fledged Trooper, with the chevrons that gave her the rank of Sergeant in the State Police Force's roster.

Finally - after seven long years, she was a 'real' cop. Though she'd graduated at the top of her class, though she had an 'Expert Marksman' rating in both pistol and rifle, she'd been relegated to dispatcher at the Trooper detachment in Macon, where she lived. The Commander kept insisting that it was because there were no slots open for her, but she'd always felt it was because she was a woman - and, more then that, a fairly attractive, skilled, strong woman.

Then came the news: one of the Troopers had gotten an offer from the Secret Service - and he was accepting. Today was his last day, and it would be spent doing up final reports, meaning that his patrol-slot was empty...

So, after waiting so long, Micki finally got what she wanted. Her promotion, raise - and the right to be called 'Officer' or 'Trooper' Sandhurst, instead of Dispatcher Sandhurst.

Which is why she was damned well not going to be late for her first day on patrol. As she quickly began to dress, Micki continued to curse the doctor at the hospital, and his 'helpful' medication.

Micki had been unable to get to sleep last night. She'd gone ahead and climbed between the sheets at the usual time - but sleep itself had evaded her, and she'd felt slightly nauseous. Needing to be at least somewhat rested for her first day as a 'real' Trooper, she had sighed and crawled out of her warm bed to head off to the hospital - procedure dictated that no active-duty Trooper was allowed to 'self-medicate', even for something as simple as Nytol or other non-prescription sleep-aids, so she'd had to go into the hospital and wait to see a doctor. The one who'd finally gotten around to taking a look at her hardly seemed old enough to have graduated college, let alone med. school, and the way he kept 'ogling' her didn't increase her confidence in him.

Despite all that, his manner had seemed brisk and business-like, and he certainly sounded knowledgeable enough. He'd done some simple tests - then had come to a startling conclusion. Part of what was bothering her was, as expected, excitement - her adrenal gland was running over-time. However, it had been more then that - apparently she was also suffering from a mild stomach problem that could cause some pretty bad cramps in a few hours if left untreated. A legacy from the two burritos she'd eaten for dinner, it seemed.

So, rather then a sleep-aid, he'd prescribed her two tablets. One was a remedy for her stomach, and it came with the advice that she avoid dairy foods for the next twenty-four hours - a small percentage of people on the medication were known to develop lactose intolerance while on it. The second pill had been to inhibit her glandular functions, which would lower her adrenaline levels for awhile, allowing her to sleep. All of which was well and good, but the 'good doctor' had also claimed that, unlike sleep aids, this would not make it difficult for her to get up in the morning...

Yeah, riiiiight...

Thanks to the kid doctor's advice, she was running late - and not all that alert, thanks to the fact that even the near-panic of being late on this, her most important day in years, still wasn't enough to overcome the glandular inhibitor and get her revved up. She needed coffee, desperately, but she didn't have time to brew a pot - she'd have to swing by Starbuck's and pick up a cup.

Buttoning her uniform blouse over the white sports-bra that she didn't really need to wear, other then for decorum, she stuffed the tail of her blouse into her pants and zipped them up, buckling up her service belt as she hurried back into the bathroom, her boots lending her stride a heavy, authoritative sound that she'd always secretly enjoyed, Neo-Nazi overtones not withstanding.

She didn't bother with make-up today - not only would it save her a few minutes to skip it, she figured the more 'severe' look was more fitting for her new position. With quick, long strokes, she combed her hair out, then her nimble fingers quickly put it up into a tight bun atop her head, where her 'Smokey Bear' cap would cover it. She hesitated for a second over the question of jewelry, and finally decided that a couple of small gold stud earrings would be acceptable.

Checking herself out in the mirror and brushing off an imaginary speck of lint, Micki decided she was ready. Hurrying down the short hallway that joined the bedrooms and bathroom to the rest of her small wood-frame bungalow, Micki grabbed her hat, clip-board and 'duty bag' off the chair near the front door.

Stepping outside, she locked the front door behind her and hurried out to her personal vehicle - a 1986 Hyundai Pony, albeit one in remarkable condition for it's type and age. For the past few years, it had been the only car she'd driven - but that would change in just a short while, when she'd slide behind the wheel of a Georgia State Trooper's police-issue patrol car...

...the thought of which only made the Pony seem that much smaller and more forlorn as she started the sewing-machine engine and put the car into gear, backing rapidly down the driveway.

Thankfully, Make-a-Buck's was on the way to the detachment post, and it took almost no additional time for her to grab a large coffee. By the time she pulled into the parking lot of the Post, she'd already finished the double-double coffee, slightly scalding her mouth in the process. Ignoring the low, throbbing protest from her mistreated mouth, Micki slid from her car - not bothering to lock it - and strode purposefully towards the main building, not sure if she were slightly late or not... and not wanting to look at her watch and thus break the air of calm, professional competence she was trying to project.

All she could do was hope that she wasn't too late...

In the U.S. Army, there's a running joke - there's three offices that secretly run the universe, and these offices run along the lines of Army bureaucracy. The first office is the Head Office: God's office - but he's a four-star, out playing on the golf course, so just leave a message, and he might get back to you...

The second office was the Nasty Jokes department, run by Satan and his cronies - and they're always on the job, day and night, and you could only hope they were currently too busy to pick, specifically, on you...

Then there's the Fairy godmother Department. It consisted solely of a little old GS-2, who was usually out on sick leave. If she was in, however, she might - occasionally, when she was knitting or sipping tea - pick up one of the folders that slid across her desk, and see what she could do for the person whose dossier she held...

Apparently, that little old lady was in, at least for a moment or two... and she had Micki's file.

Not looking in either direction, or even at the clock on the wall, heart starting to pound, Micki walked across the reception area of the post, past the officer's lounge, the door to booking, all the other offices - and right up to the door bearing the name and position of the post's commander, Captain Richard Marcello. Nervous, but ready, Micki lifted her hand...

..and just as she brought it down on the door's hardwood frame, the triple tone of shift-change sounded, marking it as exactly nine o'clock.

�Come in!� The captain's voice commanded, and Micki proudly opened the door and stepped into the office - on time, to the very second.

�Captain...� Micki said, dipping her head slightly in greeting.

�Ah - Trooper Sandhurst...� captain Marcello paused for a second - then grinned. �Go ahead, trooper - we've all been there.�

At having the Captain himself address her as 'trooper', Micki's face had suddenly become strained with the effort not to smile with pride - but the Captain had caught it, and now that she had permission...

�Thank you, sir.� Micki said, allowing the grin to surface.

Marcello waved a hand in dismissal of the gratitude - like he said, they'd all been there. �Now, Sandhurst - before you go out, I just want to say...�

As the Captain launched into what was obviously a set-speech for all new Troopers. Micki tried to pay attention to his somewhat bored tones - she really did.

However.. she found it extremely difficult to do so. Not because he was sitting, feet up, staring out the window while his voice repeated the same words for the hundredth time in his career. No - she was having trouble following the speech because her mind had a tendency to wander...

...to the captain's masculine frame. Nearly old enough to be her father, not particularly handsome, and a 'forbidden' man if for no other reason then the fact he was a fellow officer, and her superior, Micki had never, ever really looked at Marcello 'that way'...

..until now. For a reason that she simply couldn't discern, Micki was suddenly, strangely, and very powerfully aware of the fact that, 'perfect specimen' or not, Captain Marcello was male, and a fairly fit, well-maintained one at that. In fact - she was so powerful aware of the fact that he was male that she was unwilling becoming aroused, her body ignoring her brain's stern - almost frantic - commands to the contrary, a warmth slowly building in her crotch, while a tingle swept through her chest and her nipples began to stiffen of their own accord. Suddenly, though the office was air-conditioned, Micki began to feel very warm...

'What the...?' Micki wondered, frantically, struggling to keep anything from showing on her face - and resisting the urge to slide one hand towards the tan fabric covering her crotch...

The tingling, warm sensation from her nipples was intense as they became engorged, forming hard little points atop her taut mounds - but, more then that, she felt a strange senstaion running through her chest, one she'd never felt before. Her breasts felt as if they'd suddenly tripled in sensitivity, and she was aware of the very pattern of the spandex sport-bra's fine weave as it contained her small, firm mounds. More then that - she was gritting her teeth to keep from moaning about the undesirably pleasant way her nipples felt, straining against that same material.

The Captain's words were a dull drone as she struggled to maintain a semblance of professional calm while her renegade body tried to insist that she should just rip of her clothes and jump the Captain, dragging him up on the desk and...

'Don't think about it...' Micki told herself, sternly, taking refuge in the 'approved' posture that a standing officer could take, hands folded behind her firm, taut, delightful ass, (Safely away from her crotch or breasts, both of which seemed to be screaming for attention), eyes locked on the wall directly in front of her (which kept them from wandering voraciously over Marcello's firm body...)

That taken care of, her body locked into the familiar, comforting pose of 'parade rest', she could devote most of her attention to keeping her face impassive, refusing to react to her body's sudden, traitorous desires. She didn't know why it was happening, but she refused to let it affect her.

�...do us proud at all times, Trooper.� The captain finished, dropping his feet off the desk and turning his chair back to face her...

...then he did a double-take so obviously, so classic, that it was almost comedic. He obviously had trouble keeping his face from revealing whatever he was feeling as he asked, in a slightly strained voice, �Any questions, Trooper?�

'What was he staring at...?' Micki thought - then... 'Oh, shit! My nipples must be visible through the shirt! Damn!'

�No, sir!� She answered, crisply - though her voice was also somewhat strained.

�Then.... dismissed...� Captain Marcello said.

Nodding, Micki turned - and fought not to make it look as if she were escaping from the office in a mad dash, though that's nearly what she did. She hurried to the bathroom at the rear of the building, nodding curtly to those other officers who called out a greeting.

Once in the bathroom, she ducked into a stall, locked the door behind her - and began to strip hastily, her usually nimble fingers feeling slow and dumb as she struggled out of her uniform.

Dropping her uniform on the floor of the stall, she let one hand slide down her flat, taut belly while the other one reached up to cup a breast and...

�What the...?� Micki gasped, in shock, staring downward in amazement and disbelief.

Her breasts were bigger. It was incredible, impossible - but true. Even if her eyes were playing tricks on her, there was no way her sense of touch could be lying to her in the same way. Even since after puberty, she'd been a firm-but-small B-cup - yet the breast she was now cupping was a full C-cup, maybe even a small D. Like a pair of halved grapefruit, her breasts rode larger on her slender ribcage, tipped with larger, fully erect nipples.

No wonder the Captain had done a double take - she did one now, in shock. There was no way she could deny what had happened, no matter how incredible it all seemed - somehow, her breasts had grown two cup sizes, finally achieving the fullness she'd always secretly desired. Yet, somehow, it wasn't quite as joyous an occasion as she'd expected - not with it happening so suddenly, so quickly, so unexpectedly...

...and on her first day as a patrolling State Trooper.

However, she had other things to... worry about at the moment. Like the fact that she was more flat-out horny at the moment then she'd been since she was a hormone-driven teen, making out at the local drive-in.

Biting her lower lip, Micki continued sliding her other hand towards her crotch, while her other hand continued exploring her new endowments, finding them to be very firm, full...

...and satisfying.

Then one supple, slender-et-strong finger found the part of her crotch that was begging for it, and for several minutes she completely forgot all about her enlarged breasts...

She was too busy trying not to scream in pleasure as the quick, sharp orgasm ripped through her body.

* * * * * * * *

As the tan-and-black Caprice Classic rolled over the secondary highway, only part of Micki's mind was on the road, watching for traffic violations and standing by in case of an emergency call. The rest of her mind was trying to figure out what had caused her to suddenly gain two cup sizes in the space of about five minutes.

Not that she wasn't appreciative of her new bust-line - oh, no, she was quite happy with it, in the abstract. It was just the manner and timing that had her worried and confused, and she kept turning the events in the Captain's office over in her mind, trying to work it out.

Meanwhile, the shoulder strap of the seat-belt was bugging the hell out of her, in a very pleasant way, pulling her uniform blouse that much tighter over her firm, newly-swollen breasts, which were filling out the uniform quite nicely.

However, Micki was also dealing with another little problem - a very low energy level. The energy she'd had a while ago was sexual energy, and masturbating frantically in the ladies' room at the station had released most of it - and so, now she found herself dragging. She decided she needed a 'pick me up'.

�Starbuck's, here I come...� She muttered to herself, pushing her swollen endowments as far back in her mind as she could, for the moment. They might be inexplicable, and they might even be fantastic - but, right now, they were irrelevant. She had other things to do, and she needed a slug of caffeine in her system more then she needed an answer to the sudden growth of her once small breasts.

Taking the 'long way' to the coffee shop, she kept an eye out for any 'criminal element', enjoying the feeling of being a real cop, despite the day's events so far. Pulling into the coffee shop, she radioed that she was going 'Code Four', then hurried into the store.

�Hey, Officer Sandhurst...� Jason, the guy behind the counter, said with a grin. He and Micki knew each other from Micki's frequent visits in the evenings, when she'd pick up a coffee on her way home from her desk job.

Being familiar with Micki's usual appearance in uniform, Jason couldn't help but notice that she was filling out her uniform blouse more then usual. Though he didn't mention it, it was obvious he'd noticed from the way his eyes widened slightly - and had a hard time leaving her swollen chest.

�Hey, Jason - didn't know you worked the morning shift.� Micki said, a bit uncomfortable about having her bust eyed that way - but also feeling a sort of guilty pleasure at it, too. Though she was used to being 'ogled' to some degree, it had never been her chest that had been the focus of attention before.

�Oh - somebody called in sick, and I'm just covering...� Jason explained, a little vaguely, finally managing to tear his eyes away from her chest. �The usual?�

�Actually - something with a little more punch would be nice...� Micki said, looking at the varieties on the board, wincing at some of the prices for the 'specialty' coffees.

Jason caught the look - and grinned. �Gee, Micki - maybe you've forgotten, but head-office policy is pretty clear. No charge for coffee for any on-duty officer of the law. Go ahead - splurge.�

Micki grinned - her day was certainly looking up. �Okay, then - give me an extra-large cappuccino.�

�Sure thing...� Jason said, turning to the array of coffee-pots and makers behind the counter and getting her drink.

�There you go!� He said - eyes once more fixated on her breasts. �One big-ass cup of cop-juice.�

Micki grinned - at both his witticism, and at his obviously admiring interest. �Thanks.�

Heading back out to her cruiser, Micki had to admit - however it had come about, she was really beginning to enjoy this...

Putting the cruiser back in gear, she pulled out of the lot and headed back to her assigned patrol route, sipping at the steaming, thick coffee. More psychological then real, she nevertheless seemed to feel the energy flowing back into her tired body, despite the fact that the caffeine burst would take a few minutes to kick in. Just the taste of the coffee was enough for the emotional lift, though.

Despite the fact tat it was, indeed, a 'big-ass' coffee, it didn't take her all that long to finish it - once she'd taken a few sips to lower the level in the cup, she took the lid off, allowing it to cool more rapidly, all the more so since the cup-holder was directly in front of the vent for the air-conditioning. Soon she was gulping the liquid down, eager for the extra energy it would supply her with.

Soon after she'd finished the 'big ass' coffee, she began to feel the first stirrings of the caffeine rush - the slight warmth in her stomach, and the warm tingling sensation that seemed to run through her body and...

...center in her chest...?

Micki frowned in puzzlement as she felt that weird, tingling sensation in her breasts, almost as if they'd somehow 'fallen asleep', and were now awakening with that pins-and-needles sensation. Almost against her will, she felt her nipples stirring to life, pressing more firmly into the strained fabric of the B-cup sports bra that was doing double-duty to contain her new D-cup tits.

The tingling sensation continued to increase, and Micki was suddenly very aware of how much extra work the stretchy material of the sports-bra was doing to contain her enlarged masses. She was more aware of how snuggle it was pressing into her firmly soft new breasts, of how it was straining tightly across them, especially her swollen, erect nipples, which seemed to be almost crushed by the taut fabric of the...

�Holy shit...!�

As the feeling of 'containment' had grown more obvious, she'd instinctively glanced down - and found out why the feeling was increasing.

Her tits were growing again, the material of her blouse slowly growing tighter over her chest as the mounds behind the tan fabric strained within the confines of the bra, looking like a fast-forward view of bread rising.

Snapping her head back up from her swelling chest, Micki was glad to see there was no traffic on the secondary highway - in that moment of shock, she'd almost forgotten she was driving, and the car had swerved into the oncoming lane. Now, very aware of the tightening sensation in her chest, as well as the growing weight of her swelling breasts, she guided the cruiser to a stop on the shoulder.

�Why is this happening to me...?� She asked the empty air, grimacing as the now too-tight bra pressed into her swelling mounds painfully, the stretchy spandex unable to expand far enough for her increasing mounds of breast flesh. With nervous fingers, Micki undid her uniform blouse and pulled it open, staring down at the creamy breasts that were straining at her bra, spilling over the top as if eager to escape the now-painful constriction of the bra.

The car was too confined for to easily get her blouse all the way off, and she wasn't stepping out of the vehicle to stand on the side of the road while this happened. Now quite frightened by the inexplicable -and rapid - swelling of her mounds, Micki fumbled at her belt, finally retrieving the small knife she carried. Hurriedly opening its short blade, she very carefully used it to cut the double-stitched hemming at the bottom of the straining bra...

With a long, sharp 'riiiip', the fabric parted gratefully under the strain, the bra tearing into two parts and freeing her new endowments from its painful embrace.

�No... no, stop it...!� Micki - irrationally - demanded of her still-swelling mounds, dropping the knife so she could grab her tits, as if trying to force them back into her chest. The sensation of her hands on her large, thick nipples made her gasp in pleasure, but she tried to ignore the urge to further explore that sensation as she stared down at her slowly expanding boobs.

�My god... I'm getting huge...!� She gasped - her breasts were already the size of small melons, what must be a firm, round, triple 'D', or maybe 'EEE' cup - but they were still growing, pushing insistently at the palms of her restraining hands.

�Stop it!� She told her breasts, eyes wide in confusion and fear. �Stop it - you're too big!�

Yelling at her tits seemed incredibly stupid - but it was as if they'd heard her, because they actually did stop growing.

�Oh... My... God...� Micki breathed in disbelief, slowly lowering her hands to stare at her new mounds. They were big and round and firm, easily deserving of the title 'chest melons' now, since they were the size of a pair of prize cantaloupes, a good seven and a half inches across, maybe a little more - a GG or FFF cup, about the largest size that most stores sold bras for - and generally, those bras were designed for either hefty women, or were maternity wear...

�How am I going to explain this?� Micki asked herself, hands coming back up to touch her firm, round new tits... and it felt really good. Really, really good... so firm and sexy... so sexy...

�How...� She asked in a sultry tone that was half-moan, closing her eyes and smiling vaguely. �...am I going to explain...�

She slid lower in her seat, hands fondling her huge new tits and tweaking her larger, thicker nipples.

�...how I became... so.. damned.. sexy...� Micki moaned, licking her lips and thinking about how cock-hardening hot she was, with her huge, sexy new tits that just begged to be stared at and admired...

The radio crackled and issued a call. It wasn't directed at her - but the sound of the new dispatcher's voice, speaking crisp, business-like 'Police-ese' was enough to snap Micki out of her daze.

�What the hell am I doing?� Micki asked herself, sitting bolt upright. �What the hell am I thinking...?�

What she was thinking was that she was an incredibly sexy, fuckable woman who could turn men on... and even as she struggled to push that out of her mind, it didn't disappear completely, the thought circling around in her head and insisting on being heard.

�This... isn't right...� Micki told herself, confused - and feeling oh-so-sexy, with her huge new tits and gorgeous, toned body...

Sighing at the thought that refused to go away, she struggled to figure out what was going on, why her breasts had suddenly decided to...


�Coffee!� Micki said, staring at the empty cup in it's holder. Each time her tits had grown, it was shortly after drinking coffee - and her tits had grown considerably more after drinking an extra-large coffee then they had after just a large one. �Somehow, coffee's making my tits grow!�

It all made sense - well, 'cause and effect' sense, anyway. She still had no idea why coffee would make her tits grow - but now she knew to avoid coffee altogether.

Breathing a little hard from the shock - and, she was forced to admit, the pleasure - Micki shook her head and forced her mind back on her job. As much as this might be strange and even scary, she wasn't going to let it screw up her first day on the job. She knew she should call in and have herself taken off duty for a medical check-up - but to do that on her first day would look very, very bad indeed. So, her tits were large now, bordering on massive - so what? She could still do her job.

Besides - she needed the extra time to think...

There were definitely going to be some questions asked when she returned to the station house with these babies...

It seemed almost sacrilegious to cover her amazing new tits up, but that's what Micki did. It was a bit of a struggle to get the uniform blouse to button of the highest point on her swollen breasts, but the fact that they were unrestrained by a bra meant she could sort of 'fiddle' with them, shoving them so they spread out a bit and allow her to button her blouse. Once she'd eased up on them, though, her breasts pressed quite firmly against the tan fabric, her nipples making impudent dents in the fabric...

...which felt quite good, as a matter of fact.

Trying very hard to ignore the way her tits felt, crammed into the uniform top (and not completely succeeding), Micki resumed her interrupted patrol.

* * * * * * *

About one o'clock, Micki took her lunch break. Because of her rush this morning, she missed breakfast, and she was starving.

Pulling into one of the local diners, she parked the cruiser behind the building - for some reason, business seemed to drop off if there was a cop-car parked out front.

As she walked towards the front door of the diner, she was very aware of the way her newly swollen tits jiggled and swayed with every step she took, of their new weight and bounce. The motion was doing fascinating things to her nipples, which were rapidly becoming erect, enlarging the dents they made in the fabric of her uniform.

There was no way of hiding her erect nipples, nor the sheer size of her huge new tits. Indeed - part of her didn't want to hide them at all, wanted to revel in her wonderful new rack. It was quite difficult for her not to strut into the diner as if she owned the place, chest out-thrust and a challenging, sensual smile on her lips.

Despite her 'control' over her sensual urges, she was hardly inconspicuous as she entered the diner. Many of the male diners fell silent, and simply gaped at her massive, firm breasts straining at their cloth prison - and she felt a surge of pride over the attention she was getting, making it even harder not to flaunt them.

Picking a back-corner booth, Micki sat down and ordered a double cheese-burger, fries and a large chocolate shake. The food arrived quickly, with the kitchen already in full swing for the lunch-hour surge.

Starved, Micki barely tasted the food as she scarfed it down - a good thing, considering this place wasn't exactly a four-star establishment. The food was plentiful and cheap, though, and she inhaled her food eagerly, filling herself and quieting the rumbles in her stomach.

She was just washing down the last of her fries with the last of her shake when she heard a burst of noise at the front of the diner - then a loud 'ripping' sound that made her blood run cold as she recognized the sound of automatic weapons fire.

�Nobody move!� A male voice screamed, it's tone raw and angry. �Anybody move, and I'll blow your head off!�

It sounded too 'Hollywood' to be real - whoever the unseen gunman was, he'd watched too many movies, and was spouting movie-villain lines without thinking - a fact he proved with his next order, which directly contradicted his first one.

�Everybody out of their seats and on the floor, face down!� He yelled, and Micki could hear the sounds of the diner's other patrons complying. Silently, Micki prayed that the cook was dialing 911 - she hadn't heard the gunman open the door to the kitchen and order the staff out, which meant he wasn't all that bright.

Of course, dumb and heavily armed wasn't exactly a thrilling prospect either.

She heard the sound of the man beginning to walk down the diner. �If you aren't on the floor by the time I get to you, you're dead!� He screamed, shrilly - the fact that he couldn't see into all the booths was obviously preying on his paranoia.

The sight of a State Trooper wasn't going to calm him any - and she only had her side arm, and no clear view of the target. Trying a Hollywood heroic right now would probably cause him to fire his weapon indiscriminately, and get some people very badly hurt...

�Wait!� She called out, as calmly as she could.

�Who the fuck..!� He shouted back. �Get out where I can see you, bitch!�

Swallowing nervously, Micki thrust her arms up into the air, so he could see them above the divider of the booth. Very slowly, she slid out from the booth...

The gunman was more of a gun-boy - eighteen or nineteen, at most. Dressed in torn jeans, a white T-shirt and a leather jacket, he was dark-haired, athletically built - and cradling an Ingram Mac-10 submachine gun in his hands, a gun that cambered the heavy, man-stopping .45 round. In an enclosed place - like the diner - such a weapon could do massive damage to the human body...

�Shit!� he cursed, seeing she was a cop. �Don't fucking move! Keep your arms up! Shit!�

Micki did just what she was told - trying to go for her service sidearm would only get people killed.

�Okay, yeah.. shit!� The young gunman said, obviously rattled at having a cop hostage. �Uh... take off your gunbelt! Slowly!�

Well - he wasn't a complete idiot...

With careful motions, her hands never getting near the butt of her standard-issue S&W 9 millimeter sidearm, Micki undid her belt and let it drop to her feet, kicking it over as the nervous young man demanded.

It was just about then that Micki began to notice a strange sort of tingling in her chest...

Micki's mind was already up to speed from dealing with the tense situation. The sensation rattled her, and her first thought was 'But I didn't drink any coffee...!'

Her mind, however, quickly made he connection, what the coffee and what she'd just had both shared in common - as well as a probable cause for the whole event.

'Lactose Intolerant' her ass - the two medications must be a bad mix. It was milk, or dairy products, that was causing this to happen...

...and she'd just had a whole shitload of dairy, many times over what was in even a 'big ass' cup of cappuccino...

�Oh... shit...� Micki said, as her breasts began to swell.

�What do you mean...?� the gunman started, angry and nervous - then he stopped, his eyes slowly widening as he stared at Micki.

Her shirt was slowly pushing outwards, the buttons staring as the edges of the front of the uniform began to bulge open across her slowly swelling mounds. There was no doubt as to what was happening - the material was making a very distressed creaking noise as the pressure on it mounted, Micki's tits swelling steadily larger and fuller.

�uh... uh... uh...� the would-be robber said, jaw dropping as Micki's expanding tits struggled to overcome the cloth containing them. The gun he held slowly dipped, it's muzzle pointing at the floor.

It would have been a good time to jump him - and that was what Micki was considering doing, though it had nothing to do with police work. In the Captain's office, she'd become very, very aroused by him. In the cruiser, she'd been alone - so she'd been aroused by herself. Now.. now she thought the young criminal was the most sexually perfect specimen she'd ever laid eyes on, and she was staring at him with a hungry look.

�Oh... I'm going to be sooo big...� She moaned, licking her lips, while her blouse strained and struggled over her huge - and still growing - bust.

It was too much strain - the first button, at about the level of her gigantic, thick nipples, let go.

Pa-WANG!

The little plastic burst from the blouse and flew across the room.

Poink...

�Uh...� the gunman said, shaking his head and lifting a hand to rub the spot where the button had hit him. Unconsciously, he lifted the hand with the gun in it - and almost negligently dropped it, not even thinking about it, his mind - and eyes - focused on the breasts in front of him.

Pop... poink... poit...!

Three more buttons rippled off in quick succession - and, like leviathans freed from imprisonment, Micki's huge, incredibly round tits burst into view. Easily the size of basketballs, the gravity-defying mounds of breast flesh continued to swell...

...as did a certain part of the perp's anatomy, as well.

�Mmmm...� Micki said, licking her lips at the sight of his pants bulging at the crotch. Eyes fixed as avidly on his crotch as his were on her bust, Micki began slowly, sensuously closing the distance between them.

�eep...!� the ex-gunman said, as those massive - and still growing - tits drew nearer. He began to sweat, and he licked his lips nervously, eyes going wider and wider...

Micki pressed herself against him, her still-growing tits against his chest as her hand went to his pants and began to undo them. Due to the fact she was so tall, she actually had to look down to meet his eyes...

...not that she could, as she'd buried his head in her expanding cleavage, making little whimpering sounds of pleasure and submission.

Having gotten his pants undone, she lowered her own, her panties sopping wet as she pulled them from her crotch and down around her angles. Bracing one foot against one of his, she leaned forward...

..and they tumbled over, her landing atop him. His head made a rather loud 'thock' as it met the tine floor, but he didn't even seem to notice.

By now, the other patrons of the restaurant had scrambled to safety. Now, they stood just outside, staring into the window in disbelief, while sirens began to rise in the distance.

Micki was beyond noticing anything like that. Instead, she had a vapid grin fixed on her face as she fought the weight of her medicine-ball-sized tits to lift herself up...

..and slide her hot, wet cunt down on the young man's throbbing, hard shaft.

�Oh, yeah...� Micki moaned, closing her eyes in please. She leaned forward, resting the weight of her enormous, round tits on the young man, and began to flex the toned muscles of her long, sexy legs, driving herself up and down, making sounds of pleasure as she rode the young man's cock, her tits jiggling and swaying with the rhythm of her thrusts.

�Uhn.. uhn.. uhn..� She gasped in pleasure as she increased the speed of her rhythm, riding him hard and fast, her beach-ball-sized tits finally slowing to a halt in their growth as she fucked the perp hard and fast.

It didn't take long for her to reach climax - she was so ripe and ready, she'd almost cum on having his cock fill her ready cunt. Tossing her head back, she screamed out in pure orgasmic ecstasy...

..just as three of her fellow state troopers burst into the restaurant, guns drawn. They all stopped dead, eyes bulging and jaws dropping, at the sight of Micki, her huge breasts quivering with the orgasm shaking her body, screaming out her pleasure as she came long and hard.

Finally, one of the troopers found his voice again.

�Uh... Micki...?� He said, hesitantly, eyes locked on her glistening, sweat-covered mounds of tit-flesh. �Is... is that you...?�

As the orgasm faded, Micki came back to herself - and suddenly became aware of where she was, and what she'd just done.

�Oh my god!� She cried, in shock, staring down at her huge tits. �I... I... What am I doing?�

�Well...� One of the other officers said, sizing up the situation. �What you should be doing is getting off him - he can't breath...�

Looking down, Micki discovered why the youth hadn't made orgasmic sounds of his own - he was barely breathing, his head completely buried in her huge cleavage.

With a remarkable amount of effort, she rose from the perp, her huge tits making standing up a problematical task as they tried to pull her off balance.

Slowly, stunned, Micki brought her hands up to her massive new endowments. They were gigantic, bigger then any pair of tits she'd seen before in her life - and they were thrust from her ribcage, tipped by huge, thick nipples.

�Oh... my... god...� Was the only thing she could think of to say.

Then her eyes rolled up into her head, and she fainted dead away.

* * * * * * *

THREE DAYS LATER


With a grimace, Micki carefully rested her massive new tits, contained in a custom made bra beneath a custom-tailored uniform blouse, up onto the soft 'cradle' provided to ease the strain on her back during her workday.

Sighing at the way things had turned out, Micki had to admit, for all the problems these monster tits of hers had caused, they did have a few advantages - like the fact they were highly sensitive, and very enjoyable when fondled, licked or sucked.

She had no shortage of volunteers to do that for her, either.

The biggest drawback to them, however, was what they'd cost her.

Sighing again, Micki reached out and pressed a button that had been relocated for easy reach, since anything directly in front of her would have been problematic.

There was a burst of static - and Micki said: �Unit twelve, this is Dispatch...�