Eve

"No, no, no, no, no! What the fuck is happening to me!? Please just stop fucking growing!"

An hour ago, June didn't have anything at all to grab up top and now her breasts were spilling over her arm, one hand barely able to cover her areola. Soft flesh like she could have never imagined bulged out around her grip and puller her already overworked shirt even tighter. Just grabbing her own breast forced pleasure through her entire body, bellowing a moan despite her panic.

"Ooohhhnnnnffffuuuuck! N-no, f-fuck, they're getting too big! How the fuck are these going to fit in a bra! Everyone who sees me will think I'm some sort of big-titty slut! I— Nonononono!"

The now frighteningly familiar feeling of growth surged inside her chest once more as another wave hit her. She arched her back and pushed her chest forward, both from pleasure and in a desperate attempt to keep her breasts from pulling her off her feet. She could feel them swelling outward, getting bigger, getting heavier. The top, what was left of it, pulled tight over her overly sensitive nipples. Arousal dripped down the inside of her thigh and her knees almost buckled. June threw her head back and screamed.

I want you to know that I hear you. I hear you and I can totally understand how that might happen, overcompensating while you try to balance your curves, needing to go back and forth while 'accidentally' turning yourself into a porndoll. I hear exactly what you're saying.

I just don't believe you.

Firstly, did you go back to the same plastic surgeon each time? Because, according to you, you went at least three rounds in your tits and your ass. If you went back to the same surgeon the second time, and still wound up unbalanced enough that you felt it necessary to inflate your curves again, that's a "Fool me once..." sort of deal if I've ever heard one. If you were really that upset over being unbalanced, you ought to have been changing doctors instead of going back for another fill-up! Either that or suing for malpractice for not following your instructions.

But, more than that, there's one thing that tells me that it wasn't just the inconvenience of being slightly unbalanced in your bimbodoll aesthetic that made you keep getting bigger and bigger.

It doesn't appear to have occured to you to go smaller.

You didn't have to go bigger, right? If your ass implants were too big, you could have gotten them removed and replaced with smaller ones. If your sloshy, saline-filled balloonboobs were too massive, you could have gotten them drained a little. There were other options! You didn't have to keep getting bigger.

But you did anyway. Time and time again, you took the first opportunity to inflate your tits, to blimp up your ass. You wanted this. You wanted to be bigger. Being 'unbalanced' was just the excuse you gave yourself to justify going back to the surgeon and begging them to stuff you even bigger, even fuller, even faker. You could have balked at the obscene amount of cheap saline being poured into you, tens of thousands of ccs between your tits and your ass, but you didn't. You signed on the dotted line as soon as you could. Some part of you hoped that you'd wake up from surgery 'unbalanced' so that you could go right back and do it all over again.

Time to give everyone with breast implants a fear of airplanes.

What? I thought she wanted bigger boobs? What's the problem?

Safe to say she's never going near a plane after this.

Best to avoid anything sharp until that is sorted out.

Yes, she's a regular. How did you know?

Uh oh, it seems like this date might be ruined by their respective problems! Alex's tits are leaking milk through his shirt and from underneath it, quickly pooling around his feet and under the table. Meanwhile, Michael's two foot long cock is growing as he can't help but stare at Alex's cleavage and at his milky nipples, causing him to leak precum, mixing with all that milk under the table. They are both blushing, both nervous, but really hopeful the date would go great, however, others at this restaurant are starting to notice this creamy, milky, white pool forming, centered around the bustyboy and his hung crush...

The rate that they're leaking is only increasing as they feel the other people's stares, and their attempts at small talk are cut short as they wonder if they should maybe pay the bill and leave quickly, though Michael reassures Alex that things will be okay, even if he's nervous himself, his heart beating fast as the flood continues.

As the restaurant finally issues a flood warning that 'ruins' their date, since the place is starting to fill up from wall to wall, and the streams aren't showing any signs of slowing down, they make their way out of the restaurant, both still leaking, still staring at each other with love, and both agree to take things to a more intimate place... They could go back to Alex's place, or to Michael's. Does it make a difference?