The bedroom still smelled of warm vanilla, fresh sweat, and the thick, sweet scent of Seraphina’s endless milk. Sunlight spilled across the white sheets, highlighting every glistening detail of the obscene scene. Seraphina Vale sat perched elegantly on the edge of the king-sized bed, exactly as the photo showed her: long platinum-blonde hair cascading down her back, the oversized shiny pink satin bow tied neatly at the side of her head like a gift. Her tiny pink dress was bunched uselessly around her waist, completely drenched and clinging transparently to her skin. And her breasts — her impossible, ever-growing breasts — dominated everything.
Before Damien had even entered her, Seraphina had already been enormous: a 34M cup, each breast the size of a large beach ball, heavy, round, and constantly leaking. Her nipples were thick, puffy, and perpetually dripping. Now, after draining him, they had ballooned dramatically. She smiled with lazy satisfaction as she looked down at her new size. Each breast had swollen to a staggering 34N—each one the size of an oversized exercise ball, far too heavy and full to be contained by any normal clothing. They rested heavily on her lap, forcing her toned thighs wide apart. The pale skin was stretched drum-tight and glossy, veins faintly visible beneath the surface. Both nipples, now thicker than her thumb and almost two-and-a-half inches long, gushed powerful, steady streams of warm, creamy milk.
Thick white rivers ran down the massive undersides of her tits, soaked the pink dress until it was see-through, and pooled in wide puddles on the sheets and floor beneath her. Every tiny shift of her body sent fresh, forceful spurts jetting out, splattering audibly. On the floor right beside the bed lay Damien, completely naked, unconscious, and utterly destroyed. His once-muscular 6’2” frame looked strangely deflated, skin pale and clammy, chest rising in weak, shallow breaths. His cock lay soft, shriveled, and spent against his thigh, still twitching feebly as if his body refused to accept how quickly it had been emptied.
The front door slammed violently. Furious footsteps stormed down the hallway. The bedroom door flew open with a bang. Mia burst in, Damien's 24-year-old girlfriend. She was pretty in a wholesome, girl-next-door way: shoulder-length chestnut hair, slim athletic build, and a naturally perky pair of 34D breasts that filled out her tight white tank top beautifully. Right now those D-cups were heaving with rage and fear as her wide eyes darted from her unconscious boyfriend on the floor to the blonde goddess sitting regally on the bed. “What the fuck did you do to him?!” Mia screamed, her voice cracking between fury and panic.
Seraphina tilted her head cutely, the big pink bow bouncing. She didn’t stand. She simply rested her hands on the sides of her newly massive breasts and gave them a slow, indulgent squeeze. Powerful jets of milk erupted from both nipples, spraying several feet across the room and landing on the hardwood with wet smacks. “I didn’t have to do much, sweetheart,” Seraphina purred, her voice like warm honey laced with venom. “I charmed him the second he looked at me. One smile, one soft whisper… and Damien forgot you even existed. He followed me home like a helpless little puppy. But once we got to the bed… oh, poor boy. He couldn’t handle me at all.” As she spoke, the dark magic inside her activated again.
Her already gigantic breasts began to swell even more visibly. Each orb pushed outward another inch… then two… then three. The skin grew tighter, shinier. Her nipples lengthened and thickened further, lightening to a divine shade of pink as milk production kicked into overdrive. What had been heavy streams became constant, forceful fountains. Milk poured down her enormous chest in wide, glossy waterfalls, completely drenching the front of her pink dress and running in rivers down her belly and thighs. Mia’s mouth fell open in horror. “They’re… they’re growing right now! What the hell are you?!” Seraphina moaned softly, eyes fluttering half-closed with pleasure as her tits expanded before the other woman’s eyes. “Mmm… yes, they are. Before I even touched Damien, I was already a 34M. Each one is bigger than a beach ball and constantly leaking. It only took seven minutes to completely drain him. Seven pathetic minutes. The second he pushed inside me, my body was too much for him. These tits bouncing in his face, milk spraying everywhere, my tight pussy milking him… he lost it instantly. He came so hard he couldn’t even keep a rhythm. By the time those seven minutes were up, he was collapsing on top of me, eyes rolled back, body shaking, completely drained dry while I kept taking everything he had.”
She lifted her right breast with both hands—struggling because of the sheer new weight—and presented the still-growing globe. It had easily reached the full 34O size now, each tit a massive, heavy exercise ball globe that forced her arms wider apart. Milk gushed from the thick nipple in powerful arcs, splattering across Mia’s tank top and soaking her 34D breasts until the white fabric turned sheer, her own nipples visibly stiffening from the warm liquid. “Feel how heavy they are getting,” Seraphina continued, her voice turning teasing and cruel.
“These tits are turning into medicine balls because your man couldn’t handle me. He was so full of energy when he walked in: his gym body and cocky attitude. Seven minutes later, he was nothing but an empty, passed-out shell on my floor, and every bit of his life force is making me bigger… wetter… heavier.” Mia took a shaky step back, but her gaze stayed helplessly locked on Seraphina’s chest.
The growth still hadn’t slowed. Seraphina’s breasts surged outward again, visibly gaining even more fullness as the last traces of Damien fed her. Milk poured in thick, rhythmic pulses, pattering onto the sheets and floor like rain. The pink dress was ruined beyond repair, plastered transparently to the impossible expanse of her chest. “Look at you,” Seraphina laughed softly, the sound making her enormous, still-swelling tits jiggle and spray even harder. “Such cute little 34D breasts. Perky. Normal. Safe. Meanwhile, I stole your boyfriend and turned him into nothing but milk and curves. Want to feel them? They’re still growing because he’s still feeding me, even unconscious.”
She stood up slowly, her massive 34P breasts swaying and bouncing heavily with the movement. One thick, dripping nipple brushed Mia’s arm, leaving a long, warm, sticky trail across her skin. Mia whimpered, trembling between terror and shameful fascination. Seraphina leaned in close, voice dropping to a sultry whisper while her breasts continued to balloon and gush nonstop.
“And the longer you stand here watching… the more of him keeps turning into my milk. These tits are already so massive I can barely hold them, and they’re still getting heavier because of him.” She gently but firmly grabbed Mia’s wrist and pulled her closer until one of her leaking, still-growing nipples hovered just inches from the smaller woman’s lips. “Taste what he gave me. It’s still warm… still full of everything he used to be. Or just stand there and watch while I keep getting bigger because of him.” The pink bow in Seraphina’s hair bobbed cheerfully as she smiled down at her rival, milk pouring endlessly from her newly enlarged 34Q chest in heavy, obscene streams—all because Damien had lasted a mere seven minutes against the overwhelming power of her body.
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