This is the story of a girl named Stella.

Stella woke up one morning in her home, and looked at her thin, naked figure in the mirror.

“Why are my breasts so small?” Stella asked, out loud. “I’ve done exercises, I’ve taken supplements, I’ve done everything I can think of to give myself massive breasts, and yet they’re still tiny!”

Stella hammered this point home by cupping her miniscule, a-cup breasts with her hands, completely covering them.

“It’s just not fair!” She whined, whinely. “I just want bigger tits!”

“Well, maybe you should just get implants”, thought the narrator. It was, after all, a very convenient way to quickly get bigger boobs, if you could afford it.

“But that’s just the thing! I can’t afford it!” Yelled Stella, looking up into the sky.

The narrator paused.

This was odd.

“You’re damn right it’s odd! And who the hell are you?” Stella shouted, a note of fear in her voice. She suddenly covered up her lithe body with her hands, whipping around to try and find the source of the voice. The narrator felt a little chill run down his spine.

“Oh, so you’re a he?! Great, an omniscient narrator staring down on me and he has to be a he!” Stella bellowed, frothing at the mouth, like a crazy lady.

“I am not frothing at the mouth!” Stella shouted, turning a shade of crimson. “Stop lying to them!”

Having no idea to whom the ‘them’ that Stella was referring were, the narrator ignored her ramblings, and returned to-

“You know perfectly well who I mean! The people reading this!” Stella continued, managing the impressive feat of both interrupting and not making any sense.

“Hey! I am making sense! You keep adding conjecture to everything I say!” Stella continued, mendaciously. “Why are you even bothering to report my speech if you’re just going to discredit it afterwards?!”

Ignoring the rules of narrative discourse, Stella continued: “So if you can see everything, can you do anything?”

With this, Stella noticed her breasts slowly start to expand, growing ever so slightly larger on her chest, inflating and blowing up, quarter inch by quarter inch. They looked highly erotic, slowly getting bigger and bigger.

“Oh my god! My tits!” Yelled Stella, redundantly. “They’re blowing up! Are you doing this? Wait – can anyone else see this?!”

Stella looked around, but couldn’t see anyone. This relaxed her – she knew she was on her own.

“Well I’m obviously not on my own! You’re narrating everything I do, you nutter!” said Stella, hurtfully, ignoring the effect that painful words can have on a sensitive soul.

“Sensitive?? You’re the one spying on me!” Shouted Stella, grabbing a bra and clasping it round her swelling breasts, which had gone from a small A-cup to a large C, curving out gorgeously in big, round orbs on her chest. The bra was the largest she owned, and cut into her bulging tits quite severely. This drove home to Stella how much bigger her tits had gotten already, and this made her quite aroused.

“Damn, this doesn’t fit! And stop describing what’s happening to me!” yelled Stella, who was getting more and more aroused the more her tits swelled outwards.

“That’s not true!” lied Stella, reaching for a black, figure-hugging t-shirt to hide her ballooning bust. She slid it on, and was secretly thrilled by the difficulty she had pulling it over her expanding chest, which was really cutting into her bra now, pushing against it and creating large spills of breastflesh over its cups.

Once she’d tugged it over her increasingly cumbersome boobs, Stella couldn’t help but check herself out in the mirror. She turned to her side, and admired her swollen profile, loving the bulging curve of boob that stuck out almost four inches from her chest.

“Fuck, I look amazing!” She breathed, with a touch of arrogance.

“Would you stop passing judgement on my words, please!” She shouted up.

Stupidly.

“Hey! Stop it!”

The narrator decided to stop passing comment, to allow the narrative to proceed at a more efficient pace.

“Wait – what narrative?” Stella asked, her breasts wobbling and bulging larger with every second. A slight sliver of pink belly could be seen as her t-shirt rode up, pulling over her breasts as they bulged bigger and bigger. They began to resemble nothing more than small melons, packed into her tight top.

“Are…you doing this?” Asked Stella, looking around, trying to spot the narrator. “You are, aren’t you?”

The narrator decided to stay quiet, as Stella blew up, larger and larger. Her tits were continually inching outwards, stretching and pulling at the fabric of her shirt, which was beginning to become very tight over her chest – there was too much tit to cover; her shirt wasn’t up to it. Stella loved the sensation of being too big for it – such power.

“Oh, so now you pipe down?” smiled Stella, hefting her swollen chest in her hands, loving the large, weighty sensation of her new, still-growing tits. Her nipples were long and hard, and poked out almost an inch through her top. Her tits were getting so heavy.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes.” grinned Stella, looking very smug. With a big ‘snap!’ her bra burst open, allowing her growing jugs to carry on swelling forwards, packing her top tighter and tighter with her big, still-growing tits.

Stella looked down, and could only see six inches of swollen breast below her. She was finding it hard to see her feet, and felt a massive thrill at how big she’d gotten already. The top of her t-shirt was being pulled away by her increasingly huge chest, and she was able to see a little of the enormous cleavage that was developing below the shirt. It was already so tightly packed in there. She found herself wondering just how huge she would get. Suddenly, she realised she wasn’t wearing any pants.

“I’m not wearing any pants!” She yelled, once again stating the obvious.

“Shut up! I forgot!” She complained, rushing to the wardrobe.

Unfortunately, Stella had also forgotten that her tits had ballooned about 5 cup sizes since she had last run, and her massive, shaking boobs bounced madly as she ran across the room on nimble legs. Her body suddenly looked so small and thin compared to the meaty funbags weighing down her top half.

“Really? Meaty funbags?!” Stella shouted up, sardonically.

“Yes, Stella. Meaty funbags.” The narrator shouted back, suddenly full of disgust for this arrogant, ungrateful wretch that was criticising his beautiful prose.

“If I’m in a story, as you seem to be suggesting, then it may as well be a good one!” Stella grinned back. “And you’d better make me absolutely huge.”

The narrator thought for a second, irritated that he’d broken the fourth wall and spoken directly to a mere character.

“What do you think you are, buddy?” Stella called up, being annoyingly on point for a balloon-breasted bimbo with a growing butt.

“What did you call me?!” bellowed Stella, outraged, pulling on some skinny jeans. “I may have balloons for breasts – and very nice they are too, not to mention your doing – but I do not have a growing butt! It’s shapely, sure -”

At this point, Stella noticed that her butt was indeed growing. Like her tits before it – though they were still…growing strong –

“Oh you did not just make a pun!”

Like her tits before it, Stella’s butt began to bulge outwards, filling out her tight jeans more and more with each passing second, as it swelled and inflated bigger and bigger, her ass and surrounding thighs thickening and increasing in mass even as her boobs continued to inflate.

“Oh god, this feels amazing! Keep going!” groaned Stella, as her entire body expanded and blew up, her tits inching forwards larger and larger, fast approaching the size of small watermelons as they took up more and more space in her struggling top. “I want to be big! I want to be huge!”

Stella’s wishes seemed to be being granted, as her entire body began to grow. As her tits continued to balloon outwards, fast becoming the size of small beachballs, looking completely ridiculous on her thin frame, her butt expanded into her tight jeans and her thighs grew thicker, stuffing tighter and tighter into her already packed jeans. She was beginning to look very huge indeed.

“You call this huge?!” Stella yelled up to the heavens, grunting as her body stretched and bulged in front of her very eyes.

At this, her growth increased, and her black top began to give, unable to contain the preposterous melons that swelled beneath it.

“You wouldn’t know preposterous if it fucked you in the ass!” said Stella, very rudely, not really getting the tone of this story, which up until now had been sexually explicit, but not particularly profane.

“Fuck that! Blow me up bigger and bigger! You can, right!?” Shouted Stella, apparently growing a bit crazy. “That’s what the folks at home want to read, right?! Me inflating bigger and bigger until I can’t move!”

This was all getting a little bit meta for the narrator’s tastes, but still, Stella continued to expand, her already enormous breasts reaching the size of over-inflated beachballs, sticking out from her chest something like twelve inches, in massive, swollen orbs of tit. They were incredibly huge, and her top was pulling itself to pieces trying to contain them.

“Talk about my butt! I want that bigger!” Yelled Stella, crudely and impatiently. But she was right – he ass was tremendously huge now, and was getting bigger and bigger with each passing second. As her massive, stuffed, wobbling cheeks blew up larger and larger, her jeans began to tear open – there was just too much flesh to hold in. The seams of her jeans began to become torn asunder as she expanded into them, bigger and bigger and bigger.

Stella fell to the floor, bursting out of her jeans and her top, an enormous, sex doll of a human, ripping out of any clothing that tried to contain her. She was truly massive, and felt herself becoming more and more aroused as her entire form continued to swell and bulge.

“Bigger! Bigger!” Stella screamed, as her legs began to stretch and grow, as her huge tits towered above her, big wobbling fleshy balloons that began to eclipse anything in her eyeline. It was like lying down with two medicine balls balancing thunderously on her chest.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you!” Shouted Stella, her breath sounding more and more forced by the enormous juddering balloons of flesh that sprouted bigger and bigger on her chest.

The narrator was of course unmoved by such displays of expansion, but simply commented on big Stella was becoming. Her body was stretching taller and taller, tearing out of any remaining clothing as she became closer to 6’ tall, her long, lithe legs now thick and huge, her massive rear pressing into the floor as her mammaries grew larger and larger on her chest.

“You want me to fuck myself now, don’t you?!” Stella cried, as she patted the side of one enormous, over-pumped medicine ball shuddering on top of her chest. She could barely reach the top of it, but she stretched her growing arm, and began tweaking an enormous nipple.

“What would you like next?!” Asked Stella. “Lactation? Maybe some weight gain? Whatever gets you off, buddy!”

Despite the fact that what happened next was none of her business; it was happening to her, not controlled by her –

“Hey! That’s not the fucking case!” Shouted Stella, trying to wrest control of the story that had already been written, her enormous body bulging bigger and wider with every passing second. “I choose lactation, and you can’t stop me! Go on, make my massive titties fire out milk!”

The narrator sighed, and Stella’s already preposterous boobs began to harden even further, filling and engorging with milk. They were already so big and heavy, but now they were insane. Stella leaned to her left side, and her staggering, sixteen inch protruding tits slammed into the floor, and she grabbed her nipples, tweaking them furiously. Almost straight away, droplets of milk began to form in their huge tips, and Stella almost yelled with pleasure.

“That’s it! Fill me up with milk! I want to explode!”

This was all very crass, but nevertheless, as Stella’s body stretched to about 6’ 5, her ass still expanding to new height of huge, tight roundness, all pretence at fitting into clothes long gone, her gigantic shuddering tits got heavier and heavier, swelling up and up with milk.

“How big are they now?!” She yelled –

“I was getting to that”, the narrator uttered, tersely.

They were already unclassifiable – too big for any kind of bra measurement – but then, that was quite a long time ago. Now they were impossibly large, approaching the size of small exercise balls, wobbling straight up into the afternoon air, as Stella lay on the floor, ready to explode.

“Mmm, time to explode.” Muttered Stella, still trying to take control of the narrative. The narrator decided to punish Stella by holding off her orgasm, as her breasts swelled wider and bigger with milk.

“Oh my god, I am so ready! Let’s do this!” Stella moaned, tweaking her nipples harder and harder.

“Sorry Stella, I’m going to make you wait.”

“Oh my goooooooood!”

In a flagrant disregard of the rules, Stella’s massive, impossibly swollen exercise-ball breasts erupted with a huge flow of milk, which shot out of them in two thick, creamy arcs, shooting all over the floor. Stella’s preposterous mammaries shook and convulsed, pumping almost a quarter liter of milk out onto the floor in big fat jets.

The narrator didn’t know what to say. He’d never been disobeyed so flagrantly.

Stella was almost unable to speak. This was partly due to the massive, groaning breasts that wobbled atop her huge form. But she was also panting with the exquisite release that came from such a thunderous, milky orgasm.

Stella didn’t know what she would do next-

“Yes, I do. I want to grow bigger.”

Stella didn’t know what she was saying. She was still flushed with the giddy thrill of such an intense ejaculation, and decided to keep quiet.

“Nope. If this is someone’s fantasy, I want it to be mine, too. Make me bigger, please. Oh, and a bit stronger, so’s I can move about. Don’t want to be stuck on the floor. And I’ll have lots more orgasms, please.”

The narrator looked around, to see if anyone was going to back him on this.

“Um…anyone?” He ventured.

Stella tapped a finger impatiently on the floor of her room, her titanic jugs resting to the side, a comfortable eighteen inches from her body. Milk lay sprayed across the floor, a physical reminder of the pleasure she’d just known. She wanted more.

Reluctantly, the narrator closed his eyes, and threw his script to the side.

“Fine. Have it your way.” He said, with a touch of bitterness.

Stella smiled, as her breasts started to slowly to expand once more. The muscles in her long, thick arms and legs firmed up, and she felt a sense of power flow through her.

And Stella smiled. “This was going to be fun. Wasn’t it.” She thought.

The narrator said nothing.

—

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