#attributetheft

Blame

“…and this year’s returning champ….majoring in Communications, 22 years old, and shaking a pair of beautiful F cups…Number 23, KATRINA!”

The crowd went wild. Katrina smiled and bounced her gigantic girls up and down. She actually was relatively smart–she just loved to win. 

“Ready, girls? Here we go!”

Hoses shot each of the ten contestants in the chest, and they shrieked as the cold water clung to their gigantic boobs. The girls wobbled and jiggled for the benefit of the crowd, each already imagining what they’d do with the cash, and more importantly, the glory. 

Then Maria Rodriguez–Hotel Management major, 21, heavy E cups–whimpered, staring at her mountain range in horror. 

She was getting smaller. They were ALL getting smaller.

The ten young women clutched their chests, their murmuring growing into full-throated panic. Their enormous tits quietly dwindled away, making their pushed-to-the-limit shirts hang very loosely on them, like tents. They looked ridiculous. 

Beth Linden wailed as she squeezed her tiny hooters, trying to somehow plump them back up. Emily Van Holde just blinked, over and over, watching her juggs deflate so small that they wouldn’t even fit into a training bra. 

“The heat is KILLING me,” your neighbor will complain, arching her back and shoving her giant tits practically in your face.“I’m so UNCOMFORTABLE, you know? Stupid bras.” She pouted. Her boobs jiggled with every tiny moment. She’ll pretend to accidentally brush against you, a move that spilled half of her mountain range into your chest. “I wish we could get some AIR. I–”

She’ll freeze. “I…um…I feel…weird….” She’ll back away, her hands clutching her swollen orbs. “Excuse…me…”, she’ll sputter as she runs into the house. You’ll stand there, confused, as your sister screams. 

By the time you see the “My Eyes Are Up Here" girl, she’ll barely be able to walk. She’ll lumber out of her way to avoid you. You can see how weighed down she is. No one’s looked at her face in days. 

But you’ll chase her down. It’ll be easy, since she moves so slowly. You’ll summon all the strength in your body and look at her face. “Get flat, you cow,” you’ll say, trying not to look at her boobs. 

And then you’ll both wince in pain. Your tiny tits will start to ache. She’ll moan, rubbing her gigantic girls–at least as much of them as she can get her arms around. You’ll feel like a balloon, and you’ll have a little orgasm as you sprout into a B cup, and then a C. The Eyes Girl will gasp as she gets smaller and smaller. Your swelling funbags will begin to leak a thin, constantly dripping supply of milk. 

The next time they stick their chests out at you, they’ll discover they have a lot less to stick. 

“What the–what’s happening?”, one will whisper as her magnificent mountain range dwindles. “Are we…sick or something?”, another will whisper, her shirt hanging much looser on her. 

“Oh my God,” the third will gasp, holding her shrinking funbags while looking at you. 

Your mom has a talisman hidden away that allows her to outgrow you at every turn. Tomorrow night, you’ll spike all her food and beverages with an undetectable liquor. She’ll get very drunk. You’ll ask her how she manages to constantly get bigger than you. She’ll tell you about the talisman, where to find it, and how to bend it to your will, slurring and laughing all the way. 

After she passes out, you’ll find it in her room and reverse the link between you and your mom. You’ll feel it shift immediately as your breasts get taut against your shirt, growing up and up, spilling over your bra cups. You’ll shoot up 6 inches in weight, feeling powerful and confident. Your butt will widen into a fat, spankable bubble ass, and your lips will get plump and full.