Michelle Woppernell, or 'Whoppers' as she was eventually nicknamed, lived for football (soccer). As far back as she could remember, 'Chelle had been part of some form of league or club, and spent her spare time immersed in following her favourite team and practising her skills.
To say she was talented would be an understatement. A local scout soon made sure that Michelle Woppernell found herself securely on her home team - a small but feisty club that was looking to pull itself towards the top of the league table. After a brief stint on the subs’ bench, it didn’t take long for Woppernell to secure her position as the clubs primary striker. She made goal scoring look easy. Other teams began to fear her and her team. She was good. Maybe too good.
After her first season, her football club had rocketed into the Top 3 in the league, and it’s important to remember that she’d started the year as a sub! It didn’t take much to realise that the team's trajectory was only going to climb higher. Whilst this was great news for Woppernell’s home team, other clubs in the league began to worry. They could lose players, support and, of course, valuable sponsorship deals if they were suddenly knocked from the top of the championship. Something had to be done to level the playing field.
Shortly after that 3rd place league table finish, Michelle Woppernell’s footballing career would begin to face an extra challenge. As an athletic girl, her figure was svelte and purposeful; strong, firm thighs combined with quick, powerful hips, leading to an agile, yet willowy upper body that carried very little excess. That would begin to change however. Her modest and manageable 30 C-cup sports bras would soon start to feel a little more snug, as she blossomed to a D-cup, then a double-D.
It was brushed off as a late-to-the-party growth spurt, and whilst big boobs and sports rarely mix, it wasn’t beyond a decent sports bra to keep things under control on the pitch. Off of the pitch, however, keeping control was becoming a challenge, as week by week, Michelle’s breasts continued to defy her athletic ambitions, and grow at steady pace. From an innocent growth-spurt to a cup-size epidemic, the off season saw the strikers breasts become ever larger and heavier. By the time pre-season training rolled around, many of her fellow players could hardly believe what had happened to their beloved goal-scorer. From a slender C-cup, she had ballooned to a mammoth M-cup. Even squeezed into a straining double-K cup sports bra, her kit was only just able to contain her over-developing assets. It didn’t take long for the nickname ‘Whoppers’ to stick.
Despite her overloaded chest, however, Michelle refused to give up. She was a strong willed, determined girl, and a silly pair of breasts weren't going to finish her career. Her bust line hadn’t given up either though, and by the time the football season started, Whopper’s bosoms had swelled and stretched to an impressive 30 double-R cup! With every off-the-shelf sports bra popped, ripped or tattered, the management and fellow players of her club all chipped in to order larger and larger garments in an attempt to keep their star striker on the pitch.
Even hampered by her heaving bust, Michelle still managed to perform well beyond what many imagined. She was slower for sure, but her teammates managed to take up the slack and deliver the ball to the over-boobed hot-shot. She couldn’t even see her feet, and yet Whoppers still gave the opposition a run for their money. The often half-full stadiums were beginning to see sell out crowds too, as people became curious to see this super-boobed wonder woman play.
Wonder they would, as Michelle continued to keep growing. She was sent away for tests at some of the best specialists in the country, but they could find little to suggest why the footballer’s breasts refused to stop growing.’ How much larger, or even ‘when will they stop’ only yielded speculation rather than actual answers, but as time passed, it was clear the striker’s boobs weren’t slowing down yet.
Despite almost reaching the end of the first alphabet, at an incredible 30 X-cup, Michelle kept on playing as best she could. She often played for a shorter stint, being subbed out or brought on later in the game, but she made every moment on the pitch count. She started picking up more yellow cards, as collisions between the vast, weighty momentum of her bust and the other players often sent them flying across the grass. Michelle tried her best, but each climbing cup-size saw her ability start to dwindle.
Although this gigantic growth-spurt had softened the strikers form somewhat, the other clubs in the league still seemed concerned. Could this be the year that Michelle’s team finally makes it to the top and claim the cup?
Further cup-sizes swamped the slender footballer, although in some way or another she managed to keep the points heading on the right direction despite being well into the second alphabet, as she desperately stuffed herself into an inadequate 34 DDx2 ‘Supa Bra’ - it was already creaking and complaining of it’s hefty load before the match had started.
Ten minutes into the game, however, the overloaded sports bra began to show the strain, bursting a seam between the side of the over-stuffed cups and the taught back band. Luckily, her fellow teammate and friend Sarah sprang to her feet, and rushed back to the changing rooms to grab some tape to make a makeshift repair. When Sarah arrived, however, she noticed one of the stewards lurking around the water bottles that had been prepared for half time. When the steward heard the clack of Sarah’s boots enter the changing rooms, they panicked and fumbled the bottle they’d been holding. Hurriedly, they screwed on the cap, and before Sarah could say anything, they’d scarpered.
Quickly, Sarah rushed to the table with the water bottles. There was little time to investigate, but next to Michelle’s bottle, there seemed to be a crystallised substance that was part-dissolved in some of the spilled water. With two fingers, she dabbed them in the solution, and then put them to her tongue. It was relatively tasteless, nothing like the sharp, sour flavours of the energy drink solutions they sometimes used. The roar of the crowd outside broke Sarah’s bubble of thought, and she rushed to the locker to grab the repair tape, before dashing back out to keep their super-boobed striker scoring.
Over the next week, Sarah went up a cup size.
Soon, there were questions of foul play…