Wasting II

Note: This is a story-prompt for alexander estrada-palma.

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Kim decided to drastically increase her food-consumption. The more calories that her breasts could ingest through food, the less it would absorb from her body—or so Kim assumed. She started by doubling all of her meals. Immediately, her breasts surged with growth, and her weight loss seemed to slow down. Feeling encouraged, Kim took to eating even more. She would have three bagels with breakfast, packed with cream cheese and butter. For lunch, she stuffed down several sandwiches. Dinner, was usually a huge bowl of pasta drenched in cheese and more butter. The stuffing-sessions were exhausting, and left Kim feeling uncomfortably full. Meanwhile, her breasts took to bulging heavily from the low necklines of her newest tops. And finally, her weight seemed to stabilize.

It was a precarious situation for Kim. If she didn’t keep up her calories, it was quickly reflected on her physique. She took to eating more and more, stuffing her face almost constantly.

Her breasts continued to surge with growth. The mounds were round and fat, and entirely large on her slim build, E-cups swelling to FFs, then GGGs, until she looked as though she was balancing a pair of volleyballs on her chest. Kim could not deny her pleasure at the sight of them, but they were growing quite rapidly—she would estimate that by then, they were taking on a pound a day! At times, she struggled to keep balance, or her back felt stiff. She found the best way to walk was with the increasing weight on her chest was with her thrust out, shoulders drawn, and back erect.

This worked for several days, but the mounds continued to swell, and proportionally, seemed to necessitate even more calories, if evidenced by Kim’s thinning face. Kim did her best to keep up with the demand—now stuffing down pure fat in the form of sticks of butter and tubs of mayo, sometimes even sucking down bottles of syrup for dessert. She ate and ate, even to the point that she was nauseated. But much as she consumed, she couldn’t seem to meet her breasts’ demand. Soon enough, Kim began to lose weight again.

Her arms were getting thinner, as were her hips and waist. It didn’t help that her breasts were getting impossibly heavy, and all the harder to carry around. Soon it was a struggle for Kim just to get out of bed sometimes. She was not only losing fat, but height as well. She took to clutching her breasts in her arms as she moved heavily, people often staring at the super-slim young woman with basketballs strapped to her chest.

Her breasts swelled and swelled, so round and fat, and positively trembling with growth at times. Kim continued to eat as much as she could, to keep her wasting at bay. But it was just getting harder the more her breasts grew and her body shrank. Basketballs rapidly became beachballs, and soon Kim’s breasts were perched on her lap.

Incredibly weary, Kim opted against getting out of bed one day. Instead she dozed in and out of consciousness, at times struggling, but then resigning again. Her breasts were hot, and full, and pulsating. Her body felt feeble and small. Her arms could no longer reach beyond them. In fact, Kim came to realize that the mounds were bigger than she was.

She whimpered as she gazed down at her heaving mounds, regretful that she had not eaten all day. The plump mounds were taking up a good portion of her mattress. Kim squirmed and came to realize that her feet could no longer contact the bed.

“Help,” she called out, but her voice seemed tiny. She gazed around, and it was as though she was looking up from within an expansive valley. It was difficult to tell whether she had substantially shrunken or if the breasts had substantially grown. She heard a shuffling of feet, and became aware of the fact that someone was in her house.

Kim was barely ten inches by then, and gazed up as seemingly-massive figures approached her bed.

“Is this them?” said a girl nervously, eying Kim’s mounds. The girl was pretty, and had no chest. She twirled a strand of long blonde hair about her finger.

“It is,” responded a man. He was wearing a lab coat, and scrutinizing Kim’s mounds. “I’d give it another hour, and they should be ready for transplantation.”

“What!?” said Kim in shock, though by then, she seemed even smaller. She squirmed helplessly, feeling herself dangling from her pulsing mounds. “Who are you!? Get out of my house!”

The blonde nervously bit her bottom lip. “Is that…her?” She leaned down, her large eyes almost frightening.

The doctor flashed a smile. “Yes. But not for much longer.”