Fetish Collection

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We decided to go camping alone together even though we were "just friends", and I knew that you liked me, but I also knew you fantasized about butts much bigger than my skinny ass. So when we got lost and had to set up our tent in a random spot, I was definitely not complaining about spending some alone time with you, I just wished I could look more like the porn stars you watched 😫

Though the spot where we set up was.... weird? Like it was perfectly flat and level, but there were also these bright magenta flowers everywhere, and they produced a STRONG fragrance that was heady like a perfume

As the night went on and the sun set, the more we breathed in the air, the more we could both feel the changes start occurring. I saw you continually shift you position, your balls swelling much faster than your member, gradually filling the space between your legs. Very quickly I had to abandon wearing pants, and before long my panties were becoming skin tight. And most of all, we were becoming insanely horny! 🥵

Neither of us seemed to mind our bodies inexplicably transforming, the airborne aphrodisiac essentially making us drugged with its aroma. Before long any sense of decency had completely left the tent, and we were soon fucking louder than any other animal in the forest

*6 Hours Later*

"Sooooo biiiiiiiiiig 😩"

All of my memories felt like a blur.... us doing it in countless positions, my ass growing so big that I wouldn't be able to run away (not that I wanted to), and your balls like actual watermelons smacking into my waterbed-sized backside as you slammed that now salami-stick dick into me! 😍

We couldn't stop even if we wanted to (not that we did), and as the early morning light streamed in, you grabbed the vast expanse of my cheeks with seeming renewed vigor before gutturally whispering one word...

"...More"

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Catrina had set out to sabotage you and, as much as you hate to admit it, she did succeed to a degree. The first third of your interview had gone well! Extremely well, in fact. Almost suspiciously well. Your answers were nearly perfect in every respect and it flowed like a casual, friendly conversation more than an interview. You knew your qualifications,.you knew you were right for the role, so there was no reason to stress. Besides, Catrina was a bitch. Nobody liked working with her and you knew the quality of your work was better than hers, so you could relax. And all of this despite the slight discomfort in your stomach. This role was really yours to lose.

The first sign was the adjustment of a bra strap. You didn't think anything of it at the time, too distracted by the ease of the interview. Another adjustment came shortly afterwards. You silently cursed yourself for tripping over your words and, suddenly, the room felt warm. Your clothes squeezed you like a second skin, growing tighter with each breath. You did your very best to keep the interview going, to not let whatever was happening distract you from your goal. Then, as you rolled your shoulders back to stretch and try to relax again—PING! A button broke off of your shirt and launched across the table. Finally, the situation couldn't be ignored. You looked down and your eyes went wide at the sight. Your little B cups were gone. Bulging over and under and out of your tiny bra, straining the limits of your professional shirt, were the biggest pair of tits you had ever seen. They were so big in fact that it took you a few seconds to accept that they were your own and a few seconds more to realize they were still growing. The clasp behind your back was creaking and groaning under the strain and you knew your shirt wouldn't last much longer. You wanted to cry. For a moment, you nearly did. And then, inspiration!

Just an idea inspired by your original story. If it strikes you, I would love to see what kind of story and/or image pairing you could conjure with it. 💋

P.s. your work is so good, it’s why I made a tumblr.

Goodness, you flatter me! Thank you very much for the kind words! I'm always a bit astonished at the idea that I could be inspirational, but I'm very glad that you found me to be so! And I'm glad you joined us! I really like your idea, too!

Addison sat up in bed and was immediately pulled back down. The impact back onto the soft mattress made the colossal udders that sat on either side of her slender torso jiggle and slosh like they were full of water or, more accurately, full of milk. A deep, frustrated groan built in her chest, rising with her anger. These stupid fucking udders! God, she fucking hated them! She just wanted C cups! She just wanted to not be flat as a board! But they never stopped growing, never stopped swelling, never stopped engorging with- Shit.

A damp spot near her fingertips reminded Addison that her little pity party had a time limit. If she was to go about her day, she'd need to milk her udders, another huge fucking waste of her time that wouldn't be necessary with the cute breasts she had wanted. Sliding off the side of her bed nearly brought her crashing to the ground. The swing and hang of her boulder-like tits threatened to drag her off her feet and, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew it was only a matter of time before they did. She could practically feel them growing and, while engorging with milk overnight made it hard to tell, she knew she was waking up bigger than when she went to sleep.

With gravity pulling in a new direction, Addison had to fight back against the instinctive letdown that her gargantuan udders wanted. She needed to get over to her breast pumps first. While she could have moved the milking station closer to her bed, she refused to do so on principle. She refused to let her tits take over her life. Every inch of ground they took was wrested from her by force and she wasn't ready to surrender. She wasn't some big titty bimbo, after all. She never wanted to be bigger than a D cup. She had read online that DD tits start to cross into the territory where you have more tits than brains and the thought of that had been sickening. Now, she tried her best not to think about it, especially as she all but dragged her enormous udders across the room. Each heavy footfall sent her tits wobbling and swinging and every time they clapped together, however lightly, Addison tensed. She ignored the light patter of her leaking milk hitting the floor. She refused to acknowledge her tits in any way. She wasn't a bimbo. She was better than this. She-

The world spun and the ground slid out from underneath Addison's foot. Stepping right into a puddle of her own milk, she slipped, gravity finally winning out. Thankfully for Addison, there was a table there to help catch her fall. Unfortunately for Addison, she landed on the table tit-first. Between the weight of her own body and the force of the fall, she squeezed her tit against the table a milk fired like a jet from her nipple. Despite herself, despite everything, Addison howled out a moan. With a pathetic look on her face, she glanced at the milk now gushing from her tit and then over to the milking station. It was just a few feet away, but she told herself it was too late. She was just going to have to do it manually.

As she wrapped her hand around her nipple, having to really reach around to the other side of her udder, another moan trumpeted from Addison's throat. "Fuuuuck! Fuck these fucking udders! They're so fucking biiiiig!" Each squeeze sent milk spraying out and waves of pleasure washing over her. Her arousal was like a spring. Shame and denial had wound it up right and now all that pent-up energy was being released. One tit rested on the table while the other hung down from her chest, the perfect spot for her to push her hips forward and grind against it. "Uughnn, fuuuuuck! My huge, milky titties are turning me into a fucking bimbo cow! I've got more tits than brains ten times over!"

Slightly repositioning her hips wedged her tit between them and the side of the desk. Once she knew it wasn't going anywhere, her hips started to move in earnest. Each thrust came a little bit faster than the last. Milk splattered at her feet. "I didn't want these fucking udders for this exact reason! They're turning me into a boobie-obsessed slut! Can't go more than a few hours without milking my huge udders! Can't go outside without everyone gawking at my gargantuan, slutty titties! Everyone wants to touch them! Squeeze them! Suck on them! Drink from them! I should just give in and fucking let them!"

With a sudden lurch, Addison's body bent forward. Her face was smothered by her own udder, perfect to muffle the lewd scream that ripped out of her throat. Her hips started to properly swing, the steady sound of her thighs clapping against her tit filling the air. Her face was red when she lifted it up again and hair matted to her forehead, but her eyes were rolled almost completely back. She bit her lip. "I should just give up being normal and enjoy them while I can! I won't fucking stop growing! I'm gonna get bigger and bigger until I can't even fucking lift them anymore! Then all I'll be able to do is hump! My! Fucking! Udders! All! Fucking! DAY!"

Addison punctuated each word by doing exactly that, finishing by squeezing her breast between her thighs. Her hands kneaded all the tit she could reach. Her throat was hoarse. She was so fucking close. "I'm just tits! I'm just fucking tits! Not Addison! Not Addie! No future! No life! Just tits! Just big, huge, gigantic, jiggly, juicy, milky TITS!"

1: I *really* enjoy having a huge cock. I'm big enough that my friends sometimes struggle to take my full length.

2: I want tits, but like C cups. I'm unashamedly obsessed with giant udders, but I like being kinda androgynous/masc. the women in my family are all top heavy though and I'm a little worried that I'll end up with tits that rest in my lap and that I'll end up titfucking myself all day every day

First and foremost, your identity is still valid whether or not you use hormones. You're a woman regardless of whether you've got a massive, swingin' dick or gigantic udders or both!

That being said, though, I can definitely understand where you're coming from! Massive, wobbling udders are next to impossible to ignore, especially when you're hopelessly obsessed with and addicted to them. And that's when they're on other people! If you had a pair of your own like that, you'd be utterly helpless. You'd never be able to focus on anything else! Even if you could find a bra that were big enough to hold them, you'd be constantly aware of their incredibly heft pulling down on your chest and your shoulders. If you thought it was distracting to see huge tits wobble and bounce, now you'd be able to feel it with every step you take. Showers would take hours as you feed your obsession, rubbing a soapy hand over your udders while the other hand rubs elsewhere. Just a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, clothed or otherwise, would be enough to set you off!

The other side of it is that you really have no idea how big HRT is going to make you. While your family history might make your desired C cups less likely, there's nothing that means definitively that you'll stop when you reach their size. You might just keep growing, hormones putting in the work to pump you up bigger and bigger and bigger. I'd imagine it to be both chilling and affirming to hear that you're too busty to fit in anything a traditional bra shop has in stock. It seems like you're already used to those around you being curious about a size they've never experienced before, but this time there would be a fair bit of envy in their glances towards your immense bust.

"But what about me! You're really going to throw away years- decades of our friendship just because, what, some two-bit tramp batted her eyelashes at you? No, no, no. I can't accept that. I won't accept it. Look what she's done to you! We used to be so tight. We used to text each other all day, every day. You were the first person I woke up to and the last person I thought about before falling asleep. Now I just stare at my phone screen and feel my heart twisting, waiting for a text that'll never come. You used to text me back right away and now it can take, what, ten minutes? Fifteen? God forbid, twenty?! Can't you see she's trying to isolate you from me? She's trying to come between us, forcing distance between us, and I will not allow it. But, don't worry, I'll make sure you don't miss her.

"I know how much you love big, juicy titties. That's probably why you wend for her, right? Those sloshy milkers on her chest? Well, look what I've done! Ta-dah! A pair of sloshy milkers of my own, even bigger than hers! Now, you won't need her anymore! You can have me! We don't have to date or whatever, but any time you wanna play with some mega milkers, some juicy jigglers, some fat fucking tits, you can play with mine! Grope 'em, suck on 'em, making 'em bounce and wobble! Do whatever you want! I grew them just for you! I'm sure that, once you get a feel for these, you'll forget all about ol' whats-her-name.

cake decorated by the sun today 🎂