Prompt of the Week - Week 9

It really did look weird now that she thought back to it. Surrounded on all sides by buildings several times its height, looking like it had been wedged in between them when no one was looking and with a façade that wouldn’t be out of place fifty years earlir, the tiny shop in the middle of the street attracted no attention from passers-by, and neither did any one of them bother to go in. As far as it looked like, she was the only person to even notice it was there at all… and that was far too juicy a mystery for Lauren to ignore. Her common sense flared up and told her she was being an idiot, but the bun was faced with something weird; therefore, curiosity demanded she poke her nose into it.

Much to her dismay (and slight confusion), she was met not by a dusty old antiques collection being tended to by some shadowy, crooked figure in a barely-lit room… but by a series of clothing racks, neatly arranged in much the same way a regular store would be, and bright LED lights in the ceiling. If not for the antiquated exterior, which just brought even more questions to mind when compared to what it was hiding, the store would look perfectly at home in a large mall, or even as a standalone establishment in a large city. It boggled the mind how it could look so out of place, and why it hadn’t garnered a reputation amongst a certain few circles as the best place to go that no one else did.

The selection was, frankly, astonishing; it seemed that wherever she went, the bun found even more wares to peruse, possibly a result of the building being longer and deeper than its unassuming front indicated. Just finding the register was a chore, though it did give her enough time to notice that not only were there no other customers in the whole building, there weren’t any employees either. The background music was still playing and the place was pristine, nary a smidgeon of dust on any surface, so clearly someone had to be making the rounds… and yet the more she walked, the more Lauren found herself completely alone. It was unnerving to say the least, and after a while she resorted to taking quick looks behind her back, just to make sure she hadn’t fallen into some kind of sadistic trap and was now at the mercy of a weirdly-themed serial killer. Alas, nothing of note came to pass; just more clothing racks.

At least the register wasn’t empty; with a sigh of relief, Lauren noticed someone sitting behind it, a young wolf solving that day’s newspaper crossword. They barely noticed the one customer they had, waving absentmindedly towards one of the many corridors when asked where the lingerie section was before returning to their little pastime. Not the best customer service, the bun thought, but at least she was given the correct instructions.

Lauren had unique needs, owing to her nature as a doubly-endowed hyper. It wasn’t enough that she had to carry around a bosom that made most people jealous even when it was completely emptied out, or a rear that muffin-topped out of whatever it was she wore, no; the bun had to live up to her species’ stereotypical proclivities towards breeding like maniacs by also having a male apparatus of… sizeable girth. She was somewhat embarrassed by how large it was, and how loud, thus making proper underwear one of her top priorities; if she could keep the damn thing from moving around too much, it wouldn’t attract even more attention than it did. And considering how it turned heads wherever she walked, that was already far too much.

As befitting the store’s practically supernatural ability to meet demands, Lauren found an entire section dedicated entirely to hyper-sized lingerie and conventional underwear, conveniently next to a series of corridors with shirts, coats and pants designed for people of her unique persuasion. Even though walking into the building was something she did purely out of morbid curiosity, the bun wasn’t one to waste opportunities like that; the prices were accessible, the selection was wide enough she could easily find something she liked wearing, and it was right there in a single shop! No having to bounce between three or five different establishments to fill out a wardrobe, she could just have a binge right there and carry far too much back home!

Once again, however, the building’s weird, shifting size came back to bite her, as the main hallway leading to the dressing rooms seemed to go on forever the more she looked at it; she thought it best to pick out all she wanted to try out rather than make several trips, ending up with so much clothing on and over her that the bun practically toppled over whenever they took a step. Dropping what had to be several pounds of cloth and denim onto the ground, she began the long, arduous process of getting her clothes off. This normally took upwards of ten minutes, owing to the endless amount of zippers and hooks necessary to both get the damn things on her and hold them in place; she was known to fill up during the day and needed some kind of support that could handle that kind of growth.

It was only then that Lauren noticed none of the pieces she picked up had any of that; they were regular bras (both ball- and not) and shirts, just… bigger. While at first her shoulders slumped with dreadful disappointment, the bun soon found that, regardless of their simplicity, those things seemed to do their job a lot better than the crap she was forced to wear every day. It had been years since she wore a bra where she only had to clip a single hook, and yet the first one she picked up was not only that simple, but somehow seemed to distribute her weight even better than the one she came in with. Sure, her back was feeling her tits a lot more, but the counterbalance was enough to leave her feeling substantially more comfortable than before; Lauren even went so far as to bounce a couple of times, a forbidden move for her if there ever was one, and marvelled at how the piece held up and refused to tear even the slightest bit!

Now riding a wave of excitement, the bun quickly grabbed the first ball bra she found in the pile and affixed it to her waist as fast as possible, needing to know if they repeated the same stunt as their brethren up top. Much to her delight, they did, and not only held up her overinflated nuts, but kept them so tightly constrained that they barely sloshed at all… while somehow still maintaining a level of comfort that Lauren could only ever find when she was entirely naked. How exactly that shop was empty left her more confused than worried; surely, at some point, a hyper must’ve visited in the past, so why wasn’t the place flooded with eager customers wanting to get a piece of the stock? These were the best clothes she had ever tried on after puberty, and yet the place was completely deserted!

No matter, just more room and stuff for her to buy, that’s what was important. Trying out the other bras was now an afterthought, with the bun focusing on the shirts and jeans, all of which, surprisingly, she absolutely adored. It wasn’t every day that the bun found herself practically biting her lip at the sight of herself in a mirror, but whatever it was that made those clothes look so good, she was nailing her new style. The only obstacle now was price; Lauren doubted she had enough cash on herself to pay for all of that, and slapping such a massive bill on her credit card was sure to bite her in the future… and yet, by the time she formulated those thoughts, she was already taking her clothes off and putting the terrible old ones back on, shovelling everything into a neat pile and then walking towards the register.

“What am I doing?” the bun thought to herself, “I can’t afford all of this!”

It was true, and yet she didn’t care. Her feet walked of their own accord, leading her to the one other person in the building… who promptly waved her away from the register and towards the door. Lauren tried to ask to pay for what she had picked up, but every time she placed the clothes next to the till she received an angry growl and a pointer finger directed at the exit. Still reeling from the sudden shift in atmosphere, the bun nonetheless took her stuff and left, figuring that if the store’s owner (employee?) wasn’t going to stop her, then she had nothing to fear. And without any kind of alarm system, leaving the building was as easy as stepping outside and closing the door behind her, after which it became patently evident that such a door simply did not exist.

In the split second in between her turning around and blinking, the weirdly-outdated façade was still there, wedged between two apartment blocks. Then it was gone, the space it occupied vanished as well, as if the buildings next to it had stretched to close the gap. Lauren half-expected the stack of clothing she didn’t buy to disappear as well, and for the whole thing to have been a very vivid daydream, but they were still there; they were in bags she didn’t remember picking up, but they were there, leaving the bun even more confused than before. Was this all a lucid dream of hers? Was she not even awake and everything up until that point had just been fake? It seemed insane and nonsensical, but then again she was a massively-sized hyper with assets belonging to the female and male sex, so what did she know?

Shrugging, Lauren turned around and headed home, wanting to sift through her not-purchases in order to properly organize them in accordance with her overly-complicated sorting system. It was when she looked down to look at how many pieces were still there that she realized she wasn’t wearing her regular clothes; those were neatly folded and placed in one of her bags. On her was the first shirt she tried on, the first pair of jeans, and the same two bras that started it all, snugly fitting onto her and just as heavenly as she remembered them. At that point, Lauren figured it had to be a dream; there was no way this was actually happening, so she happily walked down the sidewalk humming to herself, perfectly content in the “knowledge” that she’d wake up soon after realizing that truth, and thus not paying all that much attention to her body.

The first changes came without warning and left her huffing at the sudden weight she was made to carry. It was odd how her dream self could feel so real, even going so far as to tug at the same muscles in her back that her tits always did when they got too full. Then again, it was her body, so it figured it would know exactly how to replicate itself in her dreamscape; at least she got to experience her growth in fast motion now! Lauren was used to filling up and inflating to larger sizes, but this was usually over the course of a couple of days, at best, or a few hours at worst whenever she felt particularly aroused or got carried away doing something she enjoyed (either-or, really). It wasn’t enough that she could see it happen; every once in a while, the bun would look down and notice her bust had grown a few inches or her nuts had burgeoned outwards by the same amount and that was that. Now though? Now she saw her tits bulging from her frame, filling like balloons and feeling several thousand times heavier than one, while a couple of damp spots formed in two very conspicuous places on the front of her stretched-out shirt.

“That’s… that’s funny,” she stammered to herself, “t-these feel really real…~”

Her voice was barely under her control, and judging from the reactions she was getting from everyone around her, wasn’t all that proper for civilized company either. Lauren didn’t know her subconscious was that into public humiliation that it would create such a detailed simulation of what it would be like to undergo a growth spurt in the worst way possible, along with such a long run-on introduction to why it happened… wait, what was she thinking?

… this was happening, wasn’t it?

Her eyes shot open as the realization of how absurd her belief was hit her about as hard as the next jump in size did. Before the bun could do anything to either stop it or at least just brace herself, her ball bra felt immensely more constricting as her nuts filled up with gallons upon gallons of her seed, expanding until even the stretchy fabric they were entombed in began to creak and groan under the strain. She could feel it start to tear, the bulge pocket in her pants finding itself stretched to maximum capacity; now panicking, the bun tried to run, only to break out into a disjointed waddle that nearly knocked her flat on her face. Everyone around her took the opportunity to move out of the way, a few giving her a disdainful look that only made Lauren’s face brighten up so much it was practically luminescent; she just wanted to get home as quickly as possible in order to get those clothes off of her. Why were none of the cabs stopping for her?!

Poor thing tried hopping from one foot to another, but considering the growing weight between her legs, this was easier said than done. She had to bite her tongue not to cry out when she felt her balls hit the ground, their bra giving in completely and ripping down the middle; the only thing keeping her decent was the cloth pocket her package was in, and even that was starting to fray at the edges. Up above the waist, her breasts were causing a similar scene, mostly thanks to having broken free of their brazzer far before her nuts did; the shirt’s low neckline, together with how much that thing rode up her torso, left her with what was effectively a strip of cloth that looped around her back and barely covered her nipples, revealing most of the areolae and dripping thick ropes of her milk out front. Even then she didn’t stop growing, with the “shirt”-cum-tube top thinning out considerably until it began to dig into her skin; this was surprisingly painful, enough that Lauren had to consider whether or not she wanted to rip it off just to make it end…

… not that she had to think about that too long, as her body made the decision for her. With a barely audible snap, the tattered remnants of her shirt flew off, revealing her tits completely for the world to see. They fell heavily on her chest, slapping against her skin and practically bending her over from how heavy they were; each nipple, now the size of her clenched fist, was in full flow, a perfect cap to a pair of milkers that had grown to cover most of her upper body and still continued to pack on mass from seemingly nowhere.

Below the waist, things weren’t much better; not only were her nuts now bulging out from the many, many holes in her pants, but her ass and thighs were starting to get in on the fun as well! Her belt was struggling to hold itself in one piece while the muffin-topping only got worse, resulting in what remained of her jeans reaching some kind of breaking point and immediately tearing themselves apart without so much as a warning. The bun was left entirely nude… and yet didn’t care nearly as much as her mind told her she should. Maybe it was the flood of hormones necessary to even trigger such a transformation, that made sense… or at least as much sense as any of the past hour did. Finally people started to pay attention to her, even if it was to start snapping pictures with their phone or try and grab a handful whenever they were close enough. It gave her something to do: ask for help getting back home with a dreamy smile stamped on her face.

By that point, the transformation seemed to be over; with the clothes gone, her growth had begun to halt, leaving her just large enough that her tits were hanging low to where the top of her nuts’ curvature smushed into them, while her cock was firmly wedged into her cleavage even in its flaccid state. Not that it was soft; damn thing was hard enough to slap her in the face whenever she wasn’t paying attention, spurting her cum all over everyone around her. Lauren was left to take whatever assistance she could, slowly make her way back to her apartment thanks to all the wonderful people whose hands took up far more of her body than they had any right to. It was positively wonderful, being able to feel so much love and be given so much attention, even when she ended up being unceremoniously thrown through her front door and then closed inside while hearing protestations about “milk damage” and “fucking indecent”. Honestly, she didn’t really care; the one thought in her head, when she tried to get up and head to the bathroom, acting on instinct in an attempt to drain herself, was whether or not the store would be there the next day.

She had more shopping to do.