Bust

Note: This is a story-prompt for Ryan Caday.

$20 Patreon Directory

-

“Well my father says you should reconsider my funding,” said Sandra snottily.

Dr. Finch dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “Though I understand the importance of experiments regarding cosmetics advancements, I don’t think—”

“It has already been approved,” Dr. Wotley cut in.

Sandra gave a smug little sneer. “You have made the right decision, sir. You won’t regret it,” she said tepidly, before shedding her lab coat and heading to the locker rooms.

Finch gave Wotley and aggrieved look.

Sandra Sanders was the newest scientist hired at the lab. Usually the job necessitated years of experience and publications, but Sandra’s father was one of the top scientists in the biogenetics field, and one of the founders of the lab. He was the one who had gotten Sandra the job.

Ironically enough, Sandra barely knew the man. He spent his years doing esoteric studies in remote areas. Rumor said he was presently in the most remote jungles of the amazon studying an unknown species of primates directly linked to human evolution. He wrote in to the lab about thrice a year. Wotley assumed he wrote to his family just as often.

“It starts tomorrow,” Wotley said, motioning to the coffee machine.

Finch looked uncertain, but he nodded in agreement.

-

The following day, Sandra arrived late as usual. Wotley, Finch, and some others were already at work, coffee mugs in hand. Sandra gravitated right to the coffee machine. She took her fill, and moments later, began to stumble.

Wotley hurried over to help her, and as she passed out, he and some others helped lay her across a lab table. Sandra had missed a small clause in her new job contract. The clause that made her, essentially, a guinea pig. Wotley pulled on some latex gloves as Grayson took to removing Sandra’s clothes and sterilizing her skin.

“Syringe,” Wotley ordered, holding out his hand.

-

Sandra blossomed.

She had no idea that each of her breasts had been implanted with a fertilized egg; that an embryo had developed in each. Those embryos were thriving.

As the weeks passed, she grew weary, then lively again. She was just as entitled as ever. She seemed to take it as good fortune when she started to grow, and found happiness in her extending line of cleavage. The modest Bs on her chest rapidly swelled up to Cs, then Ds.

Everyone observed closely, as she fidgeted and scratched during the superficial work she did. Wotley had implanted a microscopic monitor that detected the state of the embryos. Both were doing well. With the same device, he was able to remotely control her hormone production to facilitate the continued success of the experimental pregnancy.

Sandra’s breasts continued to surge, stretching her lab coats, until she had to go up a size, then another. The mounds were bloated but soft—that would be the engorgement starting up. Wotley watched Sandra’s blouses stretch, skin peeking through the triangle gaps made in the buttons. And she was finally started to get overwhelmed.

With a pair of EE-cups, Sandra seemed flushed and weary. During a meeting, spots of moisture appeared on her clothes, and she hurried off in embarrassment.

The hormones were doing their job, causing milk production, that served as insulation for the babies. He could call them babies now, couldn’t he? Wotley shook his head and chucked to himself, amused and amazed by his success.

Sandra exploded with growth, her breasts coming to resembled volleyballs, then basketballs, as they bobbed and swelled. Her new custom-made clothes continued to stretch over her growing endowments. Her nipples were hard and fat, resembling grapes as they bulged hard against her clothes.

She was exhausted, often clutching her back, sitting down, or hurrying off to the restroom to deal with more leaking issues. She was getting just immense. Her face had taken on a permanent flush, skin sleek with sweat. Once Wotley saw her breasts actually vibrate with movement. The girl must have thought she was going mad!

Soon her breasts outspanned her shoulders, massive mounds bobbing on her chest. They squirted uncontrollably despite her best efforts to control it. She was a flustered mess.

One day she clutched the side of one, releasing a sharp groan. She attempted to stand, but sunk right back down, and arched, her face reddening. Her areolas resembled fat cupolas, nipples massive nubs, and visibly swelling out. “Oh god…what’s…happeninggg…” she whined, her face red.

The surrounding scientists looked at each other. Wotley gave a nod. Everyone hurried around for supplies. Wotley went over to Sandra helped guide her to an exam room.

It was time.