It Go To
(MF, v, breasts, sn)
Once upon a time there was a woman named Susan. More than anything else in life, Susan wanted. She wanted anything and everything she could get. Luckily for Susan, she had been born with many of the attributes needed to achieve her goals. Her intellect was certainly above average, and her personality contained ample portions of superficial charm, greed, selfishness, and vanity, with a rather complete lack of morals and scruples which allowed her to backstab any competition and sleep with just about anyone if it would help her cause.
Still, Susan had only managed to achieve a limited amount of success in her less than 30 years. Clearly, there was something wrong. Perhaps it was the cruelty Susan demonstrated towards those she felt were beneath her, a group that included the majority of the population, or the callous and insensitive way she treated those who got close to her, including her lovers, the kinder of whom invariably ended up hurt and confused by Susan's emotional torture chamber, the rest of whom invariably got fed up with how much of a pain in the ass she could be and dumped her.
Susan, however, had decided that the something wrong was physical. Susan was certainly attractive: taller than average, long dark blonde hair, an exceptionally pretty face that featured a prominent mole above the left corner of her mouth, and long and shapely legs. What Susan didn't have was breasts, well, not much at any rate.
This was a constant source of frustration and anger for her, but because she was deathly afraid of medical procedures, she refused to have any surgery to enhance the situation. She typically wore loose turtleneck sweaters, short skirts, and high heels in an attempt to highlight her strong points and camouflage her deficiencies. Sure, she had achieved some success this way...but it was far from what she wanted.
One day, Susan was at a nearby holistic pharmacy, looking for something herbal to soothe herself after missing out on a chance to work an important client at her job (Susan was also something of a whining hypochondriac when she didn't get what she wanted). One particular item she hadn't seen before caught her eye. It was a bottle with the word "Enhancer" written on the label in large print. Inspecting the rest of the label, she only saw a more-or-less typical list of new-age ingredients, followed by writing in a language and in characters she didn't recognize.
Skeptical but curious, and not entirely sure why, she took it up to the counter. "What's this stuff about?" she asked the man who ran the store.
The man, who had dealt with Susan on plenty of prior occasions and knew how difficult she could be, looked up slowly and sniffed, "That's new."
Susan huffed and spoke as if she were addressing a hopelessly clueless child. "I know it's new, what I want to know is, what the hell does it do? It looks like some kind of scam."
The man behind the counter stared at her. "Not as far as I know. Got it in on consignment a couple of weeks ago. I've only had a couple of customers buy it, but one of them told me the next time they were in that it made her feel great. Big increase, I think that's how she put it."
Susan arched her eyebrow. For some reason, the man's words put her completely at ease, and actually made her want to buy the stuff. And buy it she did. She didn't even think to ask about the strange writing.
When she got back home, Susan decided to sample the merchandise. She took two pills. Within a minute she felt something, something strange. It took her a few more minutes to figure out what was happening. She looked down at her breasts. Susan was wearing a typical non-work outfit for her: loose black turtleneck sweater, black tights, and leather thong sandals.
She could have sworn that somehow her turtleneck sweater was tighter around her chest. She went into her bedroom and took off her sweater. There was no doubt now--her black bra was clearly tighter than usual. She got the tape measure out and wrapped it around her upper body. It seemed she had grown a full inch in the bust! Susan's sexy mole pulsated over her lips as her mouth shaped into an evil grin. She knew what she had to do.
Over the next few months, Susan was a master of patient planning and execution. Taking two pills every two weeks, she increased her breast size several inches. During that time, through her usual game of backstabbing and sex, which included fucking both clients and upper management, she was able to take over most of the high-profile clients in the organization. Interestingly, while many of the men and women there had clearly noticed the change in her look, no one seemed to be aware of just how huge an increase there had been in her breasts.
Susan had always kept an ear close to the grapevine, and all she heard were a few whispers here and there about implants. Otherwise, it was the usual tripe about her--the women cursed her behind her back, called her slut, and wondered why none of the men was able to figure out her true character, while the men just thought she was hotter than ever.
Susan had received two promotions during this time. Now the time had come for the biggest fish of all. If she was successful in impressing the number one client, she would control every important account, and the organization was well on its way to being hers. Of course, her boss, who was completely enamored with her at this point and to whom she had made a point of giving a blow job on a regular basis, didn't realize this was her ultimate goal, a thought that never failed to make Susan laugh.
Her opportunity would come at a presentation for which she had assumed total control and responsibility. The word had always been that this client, an older man, had a big thing for women with big tits, and now, finally, Susan was more than qualified to meet his standards.
Susan had noticed something during her rise to the top that was confirmed by the relatively limited nature of the gossip about her. The increasing size of her breasts had worked almost like magic, although all measurements confirmed that it was very much real. She began to view the phenomenon as something like hypnosis, and in fact had tried her theory out on a male co-worker.
Usually, Susan took her pills at home, but on that day, she took the pills right in front of the man, dismissing them away as vitamins. Within the usual minute, her breasts had increased. More importantly, her co-worker's demeanor had gone from casual flirtation to outright fascination shortly thereafter. Susan considered this to be her greatest weapon in her quest for power, and planned to use it freely during her big opportunity.
The day of the presentation arrived. That morning, Susan got ready for the show. Although her breasts were now several inches larger than before, she still usually dressed in turtleneck sweaters, only now, instead of concealing her shame, they were emphasizing her gain, in what she could still rationalize as a "conservative" look. Susan slipped on her favorite, a bright red rib-knit sweater made of silk and lycra which had an incredibly high turtleneck collar and very long sleeves.
Susan pulled the collar up all the way so that it reached her forehead, then folded it perfectly in half, so that it came up just below her chin. She thought this red turtleneck would be perfect, because as tight and clingy as it was now, its material would still accommodate what she was planning.
Applying her makeup, taking extra steps to call attention to her mole, Susan couldn't help thinking how incredible she looked in that sweater, especially since, for obvious reasons, she was not wearing a bra. Susan then put on the rest of her outfit: short black skirt to emphasize her bare legs (old habits and vanity die hard), long black blazer, and black spiked high heeled open toe slide sandals.
Finally, she went to the bottle and took out a half-dozen pills, which she transferred to a small traveler's size container that she placed in the pocket of her blazer. Susan took one last look at herself in the mirror and smiled wickedly. She thought back at all the people she had screwed, all the lies she had told, all the nasty things she had done. Susan regretted none of it, and now, she would reap her reward...
Susan stood in front of the client and the boss and began her presentation. She knew the client was ogling her, and that filled her with an almost obscene satisfaction. There was a mirrored window in the room, and she caught a look at her reflection. There was no doubt that Susan, wearing her red turtleneck, black blazer, black mini-skirt, and black high heeled sandals, was the total package. And there was even less doubt that Susan knew it. The time had come.
Acting according to her plan, Susan coughed a couple of times. Apologizing for allergies, she reached for the pitcher of water in front of her, and slipped her hand into her jacket for the pills. She swallowed all of them. Almost a minute later, Susan felt the usual surge in her chest. She noticed both the boss and the client staring at her in lust, so she smiled and removed her blazer. Susan knew that the increase this time would be substantially more than usual, and she wanted everyone to get a good look at what would happen.
Susan kept on with the presentation as her breasts continued to expand. Catching a look at the window, she couldn't believe herself how big she was getting. The confidence she had in her turtleneck was well placed, as it continued to expand along with her breasts. Nothing could stop Susan now!
Suddenly, the sensation ended. Susan figured that was the end of it, and was quite pleased with the results she had obtained. The client then spoke up, asking if there was really any need for any further discussion, that Susan had impressed him so much he was willing to become her client right there and then. Susan's smile was viciously self-satisfied as she reached out to shake the client's hand. Before she could, she felt another rush in her chest that startled her. She looked at her hand, and was puzzled: the sleeves of this turtleneck usually covered half her hand even with her arm extended, but now, her wrist was exposed.
Susan felt the rush again and began to sweat. She looked at her reflection in the window, and was almost fainted. Susan saw that her breasts had continued to grow at an enormous rate, and suddenly realized that this new growth was causing something to happen to the rest of her. Susan's red turtleneck was tightening around both her chest and her neck as this new expansion continued unchecked. She stepped back from the client, who was now looking at her in shock, and stole another glance in the window.
There Susan saw herself, her bloated torso wrapped tightly in a bright red turtleneck sweater, with a short black skirt that now looked like a napkin on top of bare legs and a pair of high heeled sandals.
Susan panicked. She tried to run from the room, but was betrayed by the heels of those sandals as she tripped and landed directly on her enormous breasts. Susan immediately felt something different in her chest, and was relieved beyond belief when her breasts began to deflate.
Relief soon turned to terror, however, as Susan realized that as her chest was deflating, her head was inflating. Susan screamed. She took another look at the window and saw her huge head and face, her sexy mole more prominent than ever, tottering on a neck and torso covered in her ruined red turtleneck. Susan screamed again and kept on screaming. She did not stop until the explosion.
Word of what had happened swept quickly through the organization. Naturally, most people refused to believe some of the more outlandish details. However, those who had seen Susan's body laying on the floor of the presentation room, black high heeled open toe slide sandals on her feet, short black skirt covering her hips, bright red turtleneck sweater covering her neck, arms, and torso, and nothing but a mess of blood, bone, hair, and tissue where her head had been, tended to give the story more credence, especially those who had noticed how stretched out of shape her turtleneck was.
Of course nobody knew the cause. That was because nobody could read the strange writing on the label of the bottle, the warning against taking more than 2 pills at a time, the warning that an impact to the breasts while they were in the process of being enhanced could result in "other less flexible body parts being affected."
Susan's death was officially explained as a suicide, and no one took the time to question that. The irony was that Susan had always believed that her breasts would bring about her downfall, but as it turned out it wasn't her breasts that had ultimately betrayed her, as she had expected. It was her head.
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