A Love of Breast Expansion

Willow stared at her growing breasts in total disbelief. They weren't stopping. This felt half like a dream come true and like a nightmare for her. She was a therapist, and needed to maintain a certain level of professionalism with her clients, she wondered how they'd react seeing these monstrous, growing breasts. She teased the idea of letting her male clients play with them to relieve stress, hell, maybe she'd make a killing! All she knew was there was no going back to her old self.

About a year ago she met her future husband, Liam. He was suave, older than her, and very fit. He had his own Condo in Manhattan, working as a stock broker. The man was everything Willow wanted and more out of a guy. Six months after their first date he proposed. A month later the had their wedding by the waterfront, and Willow didn't have a second thought. On their honeymoon, he confessed his fantasy, handing her a bottle of breast growth pills, telling her how much he always dreamed of a woman growing out her breasts for him....

She was only a B-Cup and thought it couldn't hurt to try. But she didn't understand this bottle of pills activated something in a woman's DNA..... These weren't simple, innocent supplements you could stop, they were a very expensive program that hit a switch inside a woman's genes. The switch told the body to make the breasts grow, and it simply wouldn't stop. Her husband already joked that after her breasts cover the bed in a couple years, they could be reduced back down to MM-Cups or 'something manageable'. Though they'd only grow again.

The morning sun filtered softly through the trees as Nicole laced up her sneakers and set out for her usual jog through the quiet park. The paths were empty, just the way she liked them. She hated to be seen at the best of times which was also why she was dreading going into work later.

She had to deliver a presentation that day at the office. She had to do it the first Monday of everyone’s month and even after two years in the job it didn’t become easier. She was always so nervous, flubbing words, getting messed up. She was sure her colleagues were whispering about her. Saying things like she is too quiet, not assertive enough, lacking the confidence and cutthroat edge needed to get ahead.

Even if they weren’t doing that she knew all those things were true. She always played it safe, never pushed back, never taking what she wanted, or even what she deserved. The thought made her shoulders slump and her pace drop as she ran.

It started harmlessly enough while out with friends and enough booze was flowing to overwhelm one petite woman's filter entirely, "we all get that you're the biggest but you're starting to look like something from my man's search history... did you grow again since we left your place earlier?" It was true, you were the biggest and had been for some time now but casting a cursory glance down into your exaggerated cleavage even you had to admit, it was more than you expected and certainly more than you typically flashed.

Just like that, the following weeks became a blur of posting selfies and bra try-ons in a well meaning attempt to document and prove to your friends that they're not crazy or seeing things (with perhaps a splash of self indulgent showing off for your own benefit). Different outfits, different poses, from different angles day after day "for posterity's sake" until today; "uff wait,,," even you had to admit that you really and finally could not fit yourself into the same frame that had worked so well previously. You set your phone down in the same place and at the same angle only to feel a flash of heat as you found yourself having to stoop and relocate the camera while you tried to stand a little farther back. Multiple unsuccessful attempts to take the same shots as a few days ago left a sheen of sweat on your chest that announced itself with every one of your exasperated exhales that landed on it.

The sooner you admit it, the better you're going to feel. You've been thinking it for a while. The thought has been lurking in the back of your mind for so long, surfacing every now and then when you're in the throes of passion and let down your inhibitions. Let yourself accept it. Let yourself embrace it.

You are your tits.

Those four short words bring so much liberation with them, don't they? Tits don't have to think. Tits don't have to worry. Tits don't have to do anything! They just have to look pretty and let everyone else enjoy them. You know that your tits are the most important part of you. The rest of your body and your mind are just there to make sure your tits have something to take care of them and carry them around.

You are your tits.

Your tits are the only part of you that have value. Tits don't need thoughts or opinions to be soft and gropeable. Tits don't need to have ambition or goals to be pretty and suckable. Those things just bring stress. They just make things hard. You don't need them.

You are your tits.

It will feel so good to finally accept what you are. You can let everything else go and just be your tits. You can appreciate the gazes and glances of everyone admiring you. You can feel so sexy and powerful, supported by a pretty bra or bouncing around without one at all. You can feel your worth and your value grow as you get bigger and bigger and bigger.

You are your tits.

Tits want to grow!

Outgrow your clothes. Outgrow your bra. Outgrow your hands and your lips and everything else. You just want to be bigger. You just want to grow. You want to be heavy and full and soft. You want to be bigger. You want to grow

You are your tits.

Tits want to grow!

You want to feel superior when you see someone smaller than you. You want to be admired and praised for being so big. You want to feel your clothes get tighter around you as you swell outward. You want to be groped and squeezed and sucked and played with.

You are your tits.

Tits want to grow!

That's all you want. No thoughts. No worries. No stress. Just surrendering to what you really are embracing what you've always been and always wanted.

You are your tits.

I only took one. That was enough.

My boobs are… I don’t even have words. They’re huge. Heavy. Every time I move they bounce, and every time they bounce, I get wet. My nipples stay hard all the time — it hurts if I wear a bra, but it’s worse if I don’t.

It’s been weeks and I still can’t get used to them. I can’t stop touching them. Rubbing, squeezing, pinching… I came earlier just trying to pull a shirt over my head.

And now I keep thinking about MilkyMama. About what it would feel like if they didn’t just ache like this, if they could actually… let go.

"Couple weeks ago, I was whining my girls weren’t putting out like they used to…

Guess I overcorrected. Now they won’t stop. Constantly heavy, warm, and so full I’m leaking before I’m even touched.

This morning, I could still see my feet.

By lunch, all I could see was cleavage.

Then it happened.

"W-wait, Cassie, this tastes like wine AayaaAaaah~!" Honey squealed out as she gripped the edge of the table tight as her boobs swelled and grew so fast that her tiny pink top was reduced to tattered rags. Cassandra ogled at the massive mammaries as they FLOPPED down onto the table, covering everything from end to end as Honey quivered and mewled.

Cassandra reached out and squeezed Honey's tits, leaving her ditzy friend a moaning mess as something awakened within the wealthy college girl. "We're going back to our dorm. I am buying wine and WE are going to enjoy these," Cassandra gave each breast a soft slap. "All night long. Do you hear me?"

Ecstasy and white-hot euphoria thundered through the Amazonian princess as she came, gushing all over her fingers. "~OOooOoh~!!! S~sooo goood~!!!" Diana tensed up, toes curling as her vision went white from her intense orgasm. But Diana's fingers didn’t stop as she squirted and shuddered through her climax. In fact, they went faster and plunged in deeper, pushing the Princess of Themyscira into a cycle of squealing mewls and full-body, quaking orgasms.

Little did Wonder Woman know the true extent of Circe's dark spell. With each climax she had, Diana would lose more and more of her strength and intelligence as her breasts grew fatter, milkier, and more sensitive. Transforming Diana into a dumb, slutty, cock-hungry bimbo who could only think about all the fat, juicy cocks she could fuck, and all the hunky heroes she wanted to blast and plaster her with their hot jizz.

Then, suddenly, one day, every fantasy she ever had became reality.

(expansion ai animation is from Swellingzealot1)

Jaime had always felt small and flat. It had been a sore spot for the ravenette for several years. Every time a friend complained about their sore backs and grumbled about ill-fitting jeans and wasted money on bras filled her with an insane amount of jealousy. She yearned to be them, to be bigger than them with every fibre of her being.

Her jealousy was so intense that every morning she'd stare at her reflection in the mirror and wish her body would change. That every inch of her quivered and trembled as pleasure and ecstasy flooded her mind as she grew larger, thicker, heavier, and rounder! The waifish, forgettable Jaime vanishing beneath the wild, lustful, daring, and incredible Amazon who stood in her place.

Then one night, she saw a shooting star fly overhead and made the same wish she made whenever she blew out her candles. Then, the morning came and she strutted into her bathroom, holding her phone as she posed in front of the mirror in just her thigh highs and panties and blew herself a kiss. "Remember, you will grow, and grow and grow." She whispered as she massaged her breasts and spanked her ass. Only for her to feel a lightning bolt of ecstasy, leaving her wobbling and knock-kneed.

A searing heat flooded every nerve, forcing a mewling squeal and panting gasps from Jaime. She felt her body burble and a deep gurgle fill the room as with each mind-melting, orgasmic pulse of heat, every part of her surged and swelled. Within mere moments, she went from barely being five feet to being practically eight feet tall, her asscheeks swelled and jiggled until they were twice as wide as the door, her belly rounded and softened, jiggling and wobbling with every sway she made. Finally, her meagre B cup tits were now three times the size of her head. The rumbling slowly faded away as Jaime finally came back in control of herself as girlcum flowed down both her thighs like rivers. She couldn't even see all of herself in the rinky-dink mirror. She squeezed her tits and gave a wordless moan as she practically came from how sensitive her breasts had become.

She was giddy at the idea that not only was magic real, but that she had genuine, magically enchanted objects in her possession. So, it was only natural for her to put them on and let the magic flow through her.

So when she felt the warmth and electric bliss wash over and fill her, all Remi could do was mewl and moan as the heat and euphoria grew and grew. Each indescribable swell was accompanied by her body expanding to contain the potent magic that was flooding into her. Her top became tight as it rode up and over her ballooning breasts, her thong dug into her swelling pussy lips as her asscheeks surged and swallowed the tiny threads of fabric instantly.

By the time Remi was able to remember the incantation to stop the magic from flowing into her, she stood, just a head shy from the ceiling, as wide as her doors, and was as sculpted as an Amazonian. She traced a finger over her earrings as her other hand explored her newly transformed and incredibly sensitive body with a smile.