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Aw, sweetie! It sounds like you already know what you should do! I bet if you closed your eyes and really thought hard, rubbed your last two braincells together the same way you rub your new, big, juicy, titties, you'd see the answer, clear as day!

No? Nothing? Nothing at all in the empty, bimbo head of yours?

That's okay, cutie! Bimbo Mommies aren't supposed to think, anyway! I'll just tell you the answer to make it easy: go find your boyfriend and thank him! I'm sure he left out those growth-inducing, brain-draining brownies specifically for you to eat and you were so good, eating every last one of them! And now look at you! Busty and curvy and soft and giggly, exactly the way he wanted you! Doesn't that feel amazing? Doesn't it feel so good to know that you're doing exactly what you're supposed to, looking exactly how he wants you to?

burpin' and jigglin around :))

also, can i just say.. i fucking love how my belly just hangs between my thighs when i spread my legs. it's soo... delicious.

“You look soooooo pent up darling… Here, let your huge pregnant wife help 😍”

My motherly instincts had been off the charts now that I was getting closer to delivery… not that you were complaining being on the receiving end of it 😏

“You’re insatiable, you couldn’t even wait until we got to the bedroom to start getting yourself off with my rack? 😜”

*PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP*

“You’re lucky they’re getting even more sensitive as they get bigger… fuck that feels good 😍🥵”

i'm a crazy lady, huh? Is that what I am?

Y'know, I was on this site, admiring the reviews for spell after spell, and then I saw it. The fattest ass I'd ever seen, hell it had to be the fattest ass in the whole entire world!! I couldn't help myself, and I just spent the evening fingering myself, wishing that ass was mine.

Then, I found this mimicking spell, and GODDAMN!! I am addicted to my ass!! Whenever I don't need to squeeze and stuff my fat, succulent cheeks into a pair of jeans, I am waltzing about, bottomless, ogling each jiggling cheek in the mirrors in my home. There isn't a day that goes by without me groping and masturbating myself to sleep.

"Wow, those are really gorgeous," a commuter complimented Michelle's breasts.

"Oh, um, thank you!" She blushed, smiling big, looking away, very embarrassed.

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's OK, I'm actually really flattered. Most men just grope me. Or jerk off on them as I commute into the city."

Oh, yeah, she's totally fine! And, good news, she's probably not in denial anymore! There's only so far someone's denial can be pushed before they're forced to face reality. When it comes to size-related things, bursting out of her clothes is usually the moment when their denial falters. Everything else can be justified away. Before, I'm sure she just told herself that her jeans had shrunk in the wash or that she had maybe packed on a few extra holiday pounds and my god aren't you rude for mentioning it. Getting stuck in door frames is a bit harder to explain, but she manages to find something to blame it on, anything besides her growing, expanding, inflating ass.

Now, though, now that her ass has split her jeans open, she can't deny it any longer. She can feel herself growing bigger and she can see the denim carnage left behind. It's not bad, though! She's going to be fine! More than fine, I'd say! Accepting that she's growing is the first step towards embracing it. Not being able to stop bouncing is a great sign; it means that she can't get enough of the feeling of her gargantuan ass bouncing and clapping and wobbling. As soon as she acknowledged her ass, she became addicted to the pleasure it brings her, and it's only going to get worse—or better, depending on your point of view—as she continues to grow and grow and grow.

Pretty soon, she'll be rolling her hips and moaning at the thought of needing a separate chair for each cheek. Turning what were meant to be knee-length skirts into lewd minis as they fail to reach all the way around her hips and ass will be intoxicating and drive her to show them off even more. She won't be able to stop shaking her ass, bouncing her cheeks in the direction of anyone who will look. Even laying in bed, she'll be bouncing her hips, every idle moment accompanied by a background of growing, wobbling flesh.

"Oh, you think I can't tell? I could feel your jealousy the moment you laid eyes on me. That burning envy is what drew me to you in the first place, cutie. I know how badly you want tits like these, tits like mine. You're just seething with it, aren't you? It's okay, cutie! You can admit it! If you don't admit to being jealous of my huge, bouncy, shirt-destroying udders, then I won't be able to thank you properly!

"Of course, I'd want to thank you, silly! It's your jealousy that's made my boobs grow so much bigger! This shirt fit when I came in. Well, mostly fit, anyway. Go ahead, take a look. Take a big, long look at my colossal udders. It won't be rude! I want you to look! I want you to—

For Stella, it was a simple matter of weighing the costs and the benefits. She was a bit of a dork, after all, and running statistical analyses like this could easily entertain her for hours on end. The benefits were the most obvious and, by far, the most enticing. Stella craved big, swollen, milky tits. Six months of estrogen had given her little more than some soft padding on her chest, just enough to tease her, to sharpen her jealousy as it stabbed into her chest.

Her roommate, the one who told her about the bovine hormones in the first place, cautioned Stella about the drawbacks. Significant behavioral changes, a skyrocketing of libido, not to mention growth beyond anything that could be controlled were all common threads among women who shared their stories. Stella, however, was able to dismiss these concerns with relative ease. First and foremost, she would simply not overdo it. She was smart. She was clever. She could control herself and keep herself from becoming like them. Secondly, well, those 'drawbacks' didn't seem so bad. More than a few nights were spent with a vibrator against her gock, imagining what it would be like to feel all that soft weight on her chest, so an increased libido didn't seem too bad. Those drawbacks wouldn't even be a problem as long as she kept to moderation. Within days, her roommate had ordered her more than enough to give Stella the udders of her dreams.

Within a week, Stella was already showing improvement. An increase in sensitivity made measuring her breasts something of a trial—albeit an enjoyable one—and confirming that she had already blown past a D cup just made her want to enjoy them all the more. There were some unusual side effects: her appetite became more and more insatiable with each passing day, despite the fact that she found herself naturally transitioning into a vegetarian diet. The pressure building up inside her breasts was also cause for a bit of concern; no amount of massaging seemed to soothe the deep ache. All those worries melted away under the compliments and attention of her roommate. Constant praise at her developments kept Stella smiling and blushing and eager for more. Before she knew it, her breasts had doubled in size. Euphoric was the only word she could think to describe how it felt to walk around the mall, feeling her huge breasts bounce and wobble underneath her shirt. The seemingly permanent stiffness of her nipples made them much more noticeable, even beyond their enormous size, as well as keeping her at a chronic state of arousal as her shirt rubbed against them.

The haze of need made it difficult to notice that she was becoming increasingly docile, increasingly obedient. In her mind, her roommate was so good to her. Stella just wanted to return the favor! Her roommate's smile made Stella melt and her hand on the small of Stella's back made her heart race, but that was just normal roommate stuff, right? Her roommate even helped her remember to take her bovine hormones! She kept forgetting. Stella was so lucky to have a roommate like her.

Some amount of time passed. Stella didn't know exactly how long. She couldn't really remember much anymore. Her eyes fluttered and she let out a long, low moooo. Her hips pushed forward and, with them, her massive udders swung underneath her. Milk leaked from her nipples and soaked into the bed underneath her; still more milk sloshed inside her gargantuan udders. Her size defied the alphabet but it hardly mattered. There was no more need for bras anyway. Her roommate took care of everything. Within moments of her desperate cries, her roommate entered the room, carrying an industrial breast pump under her arm. She stroked Stella's back while putting the suction cups over her nipples. Another cow-like moan, this time much louder, rang out as her roommate flipped the switch and the suction started. Whatever thoughts Stella had left rushed out of her along with the milk that flooded down the hoses and into the storage tank.