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The subliminal messages echoed through her, like jolts of electricity. As with every quaking clap and rippling wobble, Latoya's ass and breasts swelled. As the heat within grew to a fever pitch, Latoya squealed and howled as she came over and over again; her curves ballooned until she was pinned in her bed.

There wasn't a thought left in her head by the time her husband walked into their bedroom and pulled out a tape measure. "Hmmm mmm mmmmh~! That's a new record for your growth!" His voice made Latoya quiver and mewl. "I knew you would be perfect once you listened to that tape." He chuckled as he spanked his wife on the ass. "You are such a good girl." Latoya came the instant she heard those words, her eyes rolling backwards as she suckled on her husband's thumb.

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A scientist who obsessed with growth tricks her assistant into drinking a formula that truns her into a Hcow 

The newly swollen udders that bounced on Gabby's chest made her escape attempt completely futile. She barely made it halfway down the hall, flopping and bouncing, milk spraying from her nipples, before Dr. Gellar caught up to the fleeing cow. Her strong arms wrapped around Gabby's swollen tits. Immediately, the pressure forced a torrent of milk out of her and the sterile walls carried the echoes Gabby's mooing and moaning for ages. Every struggle, every kick, every flail made Gabby's udders bounce and slosh, but Dr. Gellar's grip was too strong. Between pinching and rolling Gabby's nipple between her fingers and rubbing the frightened cow's back, Gabby's attempts at escape weaken. Finally, she surrenders with a weak "Moo..." and melts into the doctor's embrace.

Dr. Gellar coos softly. "Oh, I know, Gabby. I know. I'm so bad for betraying your trust like that. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. You just wanted to impress me. Of course, you did. How could you not look up to one of the most eminent scientists in our field. And I used that against you, made you into my guinea pig."

If Gabby weren't so mercilessly turned on by having her huge, sensitive tits groped, she'd be tearing up. All of it was true. She had leapt at the opportunity to work with Dr. Gellar, had done everything she could to position herself as the doctor's protege. And now look where it got her, with tits too big to ever be taken seriously, too sensitive to focus on work, and too milky to do anything but spend all day being pumped. Even now, the serum was still coursing through her. Her tits swelled in Dr. Gellar's grip, bulging over her arms, raining even more milk onto the cold, linoleum floor. All it took was one last tug on her nipple to break Gabby's resistance, a desperate half-moan-half-moo ripping out of her. Dr. Gellar tried not to smile too proudly.

"I can't get enough of you, my darling thrall. I've been out in the world, corrupting people and seducing them and absorbing their lustful energy for centuries and no one, not one person, has fed me like you have. You wanna know what the best part is? I barely had to do a thing, didn't I? You were already a porn-obsessed, brain-broken gooner when I found you. So twisted, so perverse, so— Oop, someone liked that, huh? You like being Mommy's good gooner, huh? You like rubbing and touching and feeding me all of your precious lust, don't you? I know you love what it's done to me. Every dro of your essence has made my titties grow, made my hips widen, made my ass expand. Just look at my fishnets! They couldn't contain this gigantic fucking ass your pathetic gooning has given me. I'm not even sure you see me as a real person, do you? Or a real monster, at any rate. I'm just moving, jiggling, bouncing porn for you and you so willingly give up everything to make me bigger. Make me bigger, my precious gooner pet. Give me everything and make me fucking enormous.

Damora had only wanted to gain a cup size or two. But now, now she wasn't going to stop until she was nothing but tits. Two gargantuan, milky, sensitive, orgasm-inducing breasts with a mindless, horny slut stuck to them.

It certainly helped thar her psychic power helped fuel the hunk's own mental gift. The fatter his cock got and the larger his cumtanks became, the greater his lust became. It was an indescribable feedback loop, and neither could or even wanted to stop and walk away. With each new inch, the world around them faded until them, and their quickly swelling bodies were all that remained to him.

Your girlfriend really shouldn't have promised to stop, because there's no way that was ever going to happen. I mean, come on. In the middle of dinner, in a public place, she felt her body grow and expand until her G-cup bra, a bra that's already more than double what people would consider average, broke from the strain. She didn't just overflow it. She didn't just stretch it out. The bra fucking broke. Her growing curves were too much for it to handle and it gave up entirely. I can only imagine how her eyes must have fluttered, how she grabbed the edge of the table, how she clenched her thighs together to try and squeeze out as much pleasure as she could from the feeling of growth. When her eyes finally opened and she glanced around the room, all of the looks, lustful and jealous in equal measure, would have just stoked the flames inside her to even greater heights. To go through all that and then, afterwards, promise to never experience that kind of pleasure again? Did you really think that promise was going to hold?

What happened that night was a revelation to her, a feast for the senses with such richness and decadence that it permanently unlocked a part of her mind. For her to have to go back to her normal life would be unbearable. Being big is fine—good, even. But growing bigger? Feeling herself expand in every direction? Knowing that she's making a spectacle of herself and that no one can keep their eyes off of her growing body as it becomes a beacon of power and femininity? That's true pleasure, distilled into its purest form. She can't just give that up.

Your confrontations are only making it worse, too. Honestly, I don't think she really cares what you think about her growth. A goddess doesn't concern herself with the opinions of a flea. When you bring it up, however, it does give her a great excuse to push back on you. You said she pinned you to the bed, underneath her towering, curvaceous body? She doesn't want you to stop protesting her use of the hormones; all she wants to do is prove—to you, yes, but mostly to herself—that she's getting even stronger. Every time she pins you to the bed or backs you up against the wall, it gets easier. She's getting taller, bustier, stronger, but from her perspective, you're getting smaller, lighter, weaker. It won't be long before she'll be scooping you up and lifting you into the air, moaning at just how easy it is, reminding her how much stronger she's gotten.