Pasty Remedies (Commission for Zygrado)

Rachel was trying her level best not to say anything, but given that her friend had undergone such a radical change since the last time the two met, it’d be disingenuous to claim that the sergal wasn’t holding onto her own decency by only the barest of threads, having to fight against the instinctual urge to look down every time her eyes did anything but focus straight ahead at Zygrado’s face. The Lucario had always been reasonably busty, that much wasn’t a surprise; it’s just that the previous time the two had spent some time together, his breasts had been merely reasonably large, as opposed to so overinflated that they splayed onto his lap, covered all of it and then spilled over the sides, all while very clearly having their liquid contents rolling around inside of them. The why was obvious; the how… not so much.

“I can assure you that these are perfectly safe,” Zy stated, holding up what appeared to be two conspicuously tiny pasties, “I mean, look at me! I’m proof positive that these things work!”

“Alright, but… how though?” - Rachel was still trying not to look down too much; the cleavage was so deep she was bound to get lost in it if she did - “Does it make me… milkier, does it make it grow, h-how does it even work?”

“Do you really want to know?”

The Lucario’s smile was the smarmiest thing that the sergal had ever seen, and yet somehow it managed to hit the nail on the head regardless: Rachel didn’t particularly care about how the process worked, so long as it did. Years of having an underdeveloped bust (in her mind, at least) had left such a profound scar in her psyche that even something as utterly insane-sounding as dimension-altering nipple pasties inducing breast growth sounded like a perfectly reasonable alternative to more conventional methods. As much as it pained her to play into her friend’s shit-eating grin, she took the damned things off his hands and went directly into the bathroom, only to emerge a couple of minutes later with her shirt off and both nipples covered by the tiny pieces of plastic.

“So… when’s it gonna work?” she questioned, silently hoping the response would be something close to ‘soon’, only to get a cryptic wink, followed by her Luca friend getting up, wobbling over to her and burying most of her body in a bust that was larger than most of the sergal’s body, all before unceremoniously heading out the front door without a single word and leaving Rachel to stare at herself.

For about five minutes.

Whether it was an in-built function or her friend playing tricks on her, the pasties certainly began doing something shortly after Zygrado left; Rachel had hoped they would, but wasn’t quite prepared for that something to be the unmistakable feeling of having two very long, phallic-shaped objects thrusting into her nipples and forcing them to open up on a rhythm while her insides were stretched out to accommodate for the sudden intrusion. The impact was powerful enough to have her fall to her knees and bend over, both hands approaching her bust before her conscious mind interrupted what her instincts had tried to make her do; it was clear from all the evidence available to her that, despite the obvious impossibility of what was going on, it had worked with Zyg. Therefore, as much as it pained her, she had to carry on.

Certainly helped that it didn’t hurt for long; how could it when she had effectively put herself on the path of two completely literal titfucks that seemed to be self-sustaining and required no input from her whatsoever? Honestly, after the initial shock wore off, the experience was exhilarating enough that her hands began to migrate south in an attempt to deal with the rising heat between her legs… and with nothing there to stop her from doing it, the sergal spent a good half an hour just losing her mind while exploring her body. Sadly, there was no such thing as a reprieve from her stimulation; while Rachel’s hands might grow tired, the two shafts pumping her breasts absolutely didn’t, leading her to confront the fact that this was her life now.

It took a long time before she summoned up the strength to get on her two feet again, and even then the sergal only took short, careful steps to avoid losing balance. Her body was wracked by the rhythmic thrusting of the phantom cocks generated by the pasties, and already she could see what the effects were supposed to be: maybe it was just her imagination, but her bust did look slightly more swollen than it had been before, potentially as a result of those things… releasing inside of her. If that was the truth, it would certainly explain how noisy Zyg’s own breasts were, though the realization was nothing if not blush-inducing.

The rest of the day did not go as normal; how could it? All Rachel could do was carry on with her daily routine and hope for the best, all while avoiding picking up the phone to call her friend up and demand explanations. It was better if she rode it out and saw it for herself, at least then she’d get the authentic experience; it was either that or invite the Lucario over again and potentially go through a prolonged teasing session. Didn’t make going to bed any easier though, nor did her assertion of strength help her fall asleep; it was probably around three in the morning when Rachel finally collapsed from exhaustion, covered in sweat from tumbling around her bed so much and still reeling from the unstoppable, relentless onslaught pounding into her breasts.

Several hours after the point where she should have woken up, the sergal’s eyes flickered open over the course of ten minutes, her mind abuzz with a great number of horribly lurid dreams that refused to melt away like they usually did. The by-now familiar sensations were still there, still clinging to her and still just as brutally arousing as before, with the distinct difference that they were very clearly stronger and, oddly enough, wider than they had been the previous day; it was an odd thought, and not one Rachel quite knew where it came from, but it all became clear once she dragged her sorry self to the bathroom and took a long look in the mirror.

The sergal had already been quite large herself beforehand. Nothing too big, not like Zyg, but certainly above average compared to most people around her, reaching somewhere around a very full J-cup; Rachel self-evaluating as small was more the result of her hanging around hypers all the time, giving her a rather skewed perspective on what being “big” really meant. The whole point of accepting the pasties was to get something out of it, anything at all, given that most other methods she tried to develop even larger breasts had failed to yield any appreciable results; Rachel was so used to disappointment that, even with wishful thinking and the knowledge that those things were breaking the laws of physics as she knew them, she wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t have the slightest effect on her body. Then she took one long look at herself and saw that both of her tits had become big enough to cover a good half of her upper body, and had gained enough of a bounce that whenever the shafts thrusted into them, the jiggling kept going for long enough to chain into the next impact. Best of all, she spent so long looking at those things that she noticed they were slowly, but now quite obviously, growing even larger; enough that wearing a bra seemed… pointless.

Her happiness was so unbounded it’d probably need special mathematical notation just to explain properly, and the Lucario was very lucky he wasn’t in her house at that point; he would most likely have been thrown onto the ground and buried by a bust that, while not nearly as oversized as his own, was nonetheless on the road to being what Rachel had always wanted to be like. The serg was so happy, in fact, that she opted not to call Zyg at all; instead, she would visit him at his own place, seeing as that gave her an excuse to hit the street and let all of her neighbours and visual acquaintances get a good eyeful of her new self.

Just a shirt would do, no need for anything underneath it; her tits were not only just large, but oddly perky as well, despite their weight, suggesting that her initial suspicions about them being filled rather than grown were closer to the truth than first expected. This was perfect, at least in her mind; plenty of money saved on bras and lingerie when all she needed was to slap something onto her upper body and be ready to go, even if the fabric was stretched to the breaking point and what used to be a loose shirt was now clinging so tightly to her form that it perfectly outlined the shape of her nipples and the pasties fixed onto them. The amount of cleavage on display was, frankly, obscene, and yet Rachel found herself tugging at the brim of her shirt, wanting to show off even more of the depths of her bust. Why? She had no idea.

But it was immensely arousing.

The ten minute walk to Zyg’s place was one filled with open stares, slack-jawed expressions and even a few daring hands trying to get as close as they could before being bapped away by a barely attentive serg; as much as Rachel wanted to let those adventurers get close, she wasn’t anywhere near the size she wanted to be at, the size where others had the right to even begin to think about the possibility of being allowed to touch her bust. It’d take a while to get there, even considering her growth rate, but it was only a matter of time; already her shirt was starting to feel tighter by the moment, with the rhythmic pumping of the phantom shafts inside of her creating so much bounce that the thinning piece of cloth was about ready to slip off of her and fully reveal her bosom… which wouldn’t even be that much of a problem, given she was wearing pasties, and surely no one would bother to call the police on her after being given such a wonderful show to enjoy.

These thoughts entertained her in the time it took to knock on the Lucario’s door and throw herself at him the moment he opened it, smothering his face in a pair of tits that were as large as they were thanks to his deranged experiments; Zyg didn’t even have a second to say anything before he was dragged to his living room by an exceedingly happy Rachel, who couldn’t wait to let him know exactly how she felt, in the most descriptive, obscene way possible. By the end of it, he was blushing brightly enough to have the colour start to sink into his skin as a permanent feature, while the sergal promised to do her absolute best to push her titties to the limit “just for him”; those pasties were supposed to be experimental after all, so clearly the way to go would be to stress test herself and see how far she could take her body before having to remove them. Zygrado himself barely got a single word in edgewise before his friend got back up, smooched him on the forehead and promptly walked back out, mimicking the what the Lucario had done to her the day before; it wasn’t intentional, and if she had any of her wits about her, Rachel might’ve recognized the irony now that she understood the reason for it.

The growth process, meanwhile, was still going as strongly as it did, with her increasingly more revealing shirt stretched to the point where it covered very little beyond her areolae. Even out in the streets, with the ambient noise of a bustling city all around her, Rachel could hear the faint sloshing emanating from within her breasts, a sound that only intensified once her front door was slammed shut behind her and the serg walked into her living room. She wasn’t about to remove her shirt, that would be a complete waste; better to hold onto it until such a point as she snapped it clean off of herself, all while growing tighter and tighter,barely able to contain the burgeoning mass of her own breasts.

The rest of the day was spent in a haze, with only part of her brain actively focusing on whatever she was actually doing; Rachel still got her cooking done, still swept the floor and cleaned whatever she had to clean, and even went so far as to get some work done when she remembered she had a few documents to finish up before the end of the day. But most of her wasn’t really there, or at least didn’t care enough to be; a vast majority of her conscious self was fully focused on the bust hanging on her chest and making her back hurt from its weight, as well as the impossibly-energetic pounding they were still on the receiving end of. It was amazing to think that she had two cocks constantly pounding her tits while stretching her nipples out to accommodate them, doubly so considering her breasts were effectively being inflated like cum balloons; it was a kink dream come to life, and it was happening to her! It was impossible to express how happy she was, beyond the simple fact that her ability to resist herself was becoming more fragile by the moment; by dinner time, the sergal was already openly groping herself, barely able to put a pizza in the microwave just to get something to eat. Once bedtime rolled around, so too did she, on the carpet in the middle of the living room; Rachel had collapsed onto the floor, unable to resist the allure, and while one hand was still busying itself burying its fingers into her overstuffed breastflesh, the other was becoming intimately acquainted with her nethers again. This carried on for a respectably long time, given how battered her stamina was by that point, but it had to end eventually; at around midnight, the sergal’s mind blanked after what had to be her third climax of the day, and she collapsed into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Waking up the following morning was simultaneously the best and worst experience of her life. On the one hand, she couldn’t see anything and breathing was incredibly difficult; the weight that had mounted on her chest overnight was enough that just getting enough air into her lungs was already hard enough without having to account for her muzzle being stuffed into a pair of tits big enough to cause that level of discomfort. On the other hand though, her bust had become so spectacularly huge that all the sergal had to do was roll over onto her side and, magically, she found herself with a couple of beanbags so large that her back had to be arched just to keep them squished against the ground!

Getting up was practically impossible, and took her so long that Rachel almost gave up several time throughout; it didn’t help that, as expected, the pasties had grown to fit the new size they were servicing, with the result being that the cocks that were still thrusting into her had grown big enough to become borderline unreasonable, each about two feet long and wide enough that even her overengorged nipples were having trouble taking them in. Each motion added another spurt of cum to her, the constant rippling of flesh never stopping, her circumference only ever increasing; the growth was fully visible and nothing if not obvious now, and every time one of her mounds jiggled from the impact, it visibly bloated harder and harder. It was now or never, Rachel thought to herself, because if she didn’t get back on her feet immediately, then she’d be doomed to a life of… well, not doomed really, being stuck to the ground because of a pair of tits half as big as she was didn’t seem that bad, but the sergal did want to get some breakfast in her.

Still, it took far too long for her to drag herself over the wall, at which point she still had to waste ten minutes pulling herself up and onto a standing position. No wonder as well, given that a single one of her cumstuffed mounds was big enough to completely obscure her torso, with the full set of two competing for space so much that their wobbling could only be described as aggressive whenever Rachel moved her torso from side to side. Her full bust protruded at least two feet to either side of her, with the serg’s torso now being the smallest part of her above the waist, to say nothing of how much room those blimps took up in front; even something as simple as taking a step was a chore, with Rachel having to carefully manage her center of gravity so as to not drop back down, every motion being a potential catastrophic failure. Squeezing through the door to the hallway also took her an inordinate amount of time, and so much smushed breastflesh that she felt all the cum stored inside of her would burst out by the end.

But she didn’t mind; in fact, she didn’t even care. All of this was exactly what she wanted, the culmination of a lifelong dream of developing ever larger breasts, to put everyone she knew to shame. And now, not only had she achieved just that, probably being bigger than Zyg himself, but the process wasn’t even over yet! She stood there, looking down at her cleavage as it grew deeper in realtime, as the weight pulling at her back grew heavier, as her breasts continued to billow outward in every direction, and she knew that it was right. She knew she deserved it, nay, was owed it. This was finally her break, and the sergal was going to literally milk it for all it was worth.

After all, it wasn’t over yet. And if she had her way, it wouldn’t ever end.