My mom got worried when my chest swelled. I was more worried about playing football. My chest felt fine. In fact, it felt really good. In bed, I would stare at the lumps underneath my pajamas. My nipples poked through the thermal cloth and I liked pinching them. Mom took me to the doctor when she caught me with Molly’s training bra.
My boobs were like tennis balls. Mom made me wear a sweater, but I had no problem taking it off to show Dr. Chu.
“It’s been going around lately,” she said. “Here’s a note to keep him out of gym class, and here’s another so he can use the girls’ bathroom, just in case.”
“We won’t be needing that,” said Mom. The next day she called me out sick. I sat on the couch, watching wrestling, my tits growing as big as oranges.
“Hey,” Molly whispered. She had crawled from her room to mine with a flashlight in her teeth. “Can I see them?”
We crawled under the blankets and turned on the flash light. My boobs were pink and soft like peaches. My nipples were the size of quarters, and they stuck out like brown cones. Molly squeezed them.
She squeezed them again. I started giggling. “Stop! You’re going to wake up Mom!”
“I want to be sick like you,” Molly said. “Can you give it to me?”
“I don’t know.”
She opened her mouth. “Cough on me.”
It was hard to cough quietly. I kind of breathed as hard as I could, right in her mouth. Molly sucked it in. She rubbed her face all over and licked her hands.”
“Thanks, Blake. Good night.”
She crawled down the hallway and jumped in bed. I tweaked my nipples and listened to Molly’s giggling until I fell asleep.
The next morning I watched Frozen. I paid less attention to “Let It Go” and kept my eye on Elsa’s dress. “Are we the same size?” I saw a tampon commercial and asked Mom what they were for. She asked me if I needed more ginger ale. My nipples kept rubbing my sweater. I didn’t have a bra, and my sweater was getting tighter.
Rick, from school, texted me a picture of Stan Rosovik. He was sitting in the cafeteria, eating pizza, with breasts the size of grapefruits. “He probably gave it to you,” Rick said.” Stan had berets in his hair and a touch of rouge on his cheeks.
A couple days later, Molly and I were brushing our teeth in our pajamas. Mine were pretty tight. The guy who designed my Cars pajamas hadn’t planned for an E-cup bust. I could just barely get my top over them and I had to pull the shirt down so my belly wouldn’t show. Molly didn’t say a word. I was looking at my boobs. They jiggled with every crush stroke, but I saw something in the corner of my eye.
Her pajama pants were moving. They were tightening. Molly acted like she didn’t notice, but I saw her erection stretch out until it touched the bathroom counter.
I said nothing. I finished brushing my teeth and said, “Good night.”
In the morning, Molly was a lot taller. When she walked out of the shower she had a towel around her waist and a big smile on her face. When I finished showering, a pair of boxers was missing. In its place was a red pair of panties. My hips were getting very soft.
Rick sent me more pictures: topless pictures. He and Jack Russo took a selfie together, making duck faces at the camera. The next picture was the two of them face to face, arms around each other. Their boobs were pressed together and bulging up into their faces. I saved them to my computer. I was tired of sitting around.
I took one of Mom’s shirts and put it on. It was big enough, but my boobs were the size of volleyballs. It took a long time to button all the buttons. I borrowed some jeans from Molly’s room. I snuck out while Mom was doing the laundry.
It was funny, walking to school. A breeze blew through my blouse, between the buttons. My nipples pointed through the fabric. I was bouncing and rubbing inside Mom’s blouse. Some people stared, but no one said anything. The closer I got to the school, the more I seemed to grow.
Mom’s blouse was creaking and stretching by the time I reached the front door. The moment I reached the top of the stairs, the door unlocked. Mrs. Tenniel, the school secretary, wasn’t at her desk. Instead, a blonde woman wearing an evening dress sat in her seat. She wore black gloves that reached up to her elbow, and diamond earrings.
“Hi.” My shirt stretched some more. “I think I have to go to class.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
She had a very sweet smile. Her red lipstick made her look succulent. My heart pounded. “Can I…uh…”
She giggled at me. I liked it. Suddenly my buttons shot off my shirt and my breasts bounced right onto her desk.
“I like you,” she said. She stood up and took off my blouse. “Follow me.”
She walked gracefully. Her high heels made a tap, tap, tap sound, like a clock in a quiet bedroom. I felt small next to her. She took my hand and whispered, “This way,” A ripple of joy ran through my legs and sat in my chest. She led me to the locker room. “I’m going to take off your clothes.”
I pulled back, but all she did was stroke my hair. “Relax.” She unbuttoned my jeans. “These are getting pretty tight.” It was easy to see why. My thighs were chunky and jiggled when I walked. My hips were round. She pulled down my panties and folded them up. “We’ll save those so they don’t get hurt. How do you feel?”
She hugged me. “You’re real pretty, Blake.”
“You too.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was agony. Fortunately, I grew.
My legs stretched higher and higher. The secretary grabbed my hands and helped me keep my balance. “That’s it, Blake, keep going.”
“Okay.” My voice got softer. A mess of hair grew out of my crotch and my dick disappeared inside it. I was getting older. My hips were wide before, but now they were huge. Higher and higher I grew, rocketing through my teens, reaching adulthood and racing past it. I grew mountains of hair, put on weight, grew long eyelashes, and loved it. My vulva was fat and my pussy was so big I could smuggle a canned ham inside.
My boobs blossomed. I wouldn’t stop cradling them in my arms. They were the size of beach balls and as heavy as milk jugs.
The lady took off her gloves. She touched my breasts and looked me right in the eye.
I laughed. “You’re Rick!”
I hugged her. I wanted to hug her ever since I saw her, even if it was just to feel her silk dress on my skin.
“Not now,” Rick said. “We’ve got to go to the auditorium.”
We passed the front door and I saw Mom pounding on the glass. I couldn’t hear what she was yelling. She wasn’t alone. Fatima Lynn’s dad was trying to kick the doors open. Conner Sanchez’s dad had a crow bar in his hands. Rick pulled me away. I suddenly realized something.
“Where is everyone?”
“Home, I suppose. They closed the school.”
“How’d you get in?”
“I never left.”
I heard piano music coming from the auditorium. Rick opened the door. Everyone was there. They had turned into men and women, drinking whiskey and bourbon, with long strings of cigarette smoke trailing from their fingers. I couldn’t help blushing when they began to clap.
“Good to see you, Blake.”
“You look splendid.”
Rick led me to the stage. We passed Tommy So, wearing a kimono and singing Melancholy Blues. His kimono was open so his tits could fall out. Somehow his udders didn’t get in his way of his hands playing the piano.
“Aren’t kimonos Japanese?” I asked.
“Tommy doesn’t care.” Rick fitted me with a black, satin dress. It had long sleeve and a skirt with a slit running up the whole leg. High heels kept me upright. The chest was open except for a little bit to cover the nipples: call it respectability. The whole ensemble was an excuse to lift my breasts.
“Blake!” I turned and saw Molly. She was still wearing my boxers, and her My Little Pony Shirt stretched across her chest. “Some cough, right?”
She was happy, but half-formed. She looked a little too boyish for this crowd. She smiled and laughed, but I wanted to get back to Rick. “Have fun,” I said, and I kissed her on the cheek.
Molly caught her breath. She got taller and taller. Her muscles flexed and thickened. She was so thick that I could see every contour under her shorts. Her chin squared off and she grinned. “Take care, Blake.” She kissed my hand. She put on a tuxedo and walked up on a lady. The last time I saw her, Molly’s hand was on the girl’s ass. They walked out together.
I smelled smoke behind me. I listened, but no one was talking. “Rick?”
“He went to powder his nose. Want a drink?”
I did. It was Mustafa Colon. His hair was huge and curly. His ass was the equal to my breasts. I understand now that he inherited it from his mother.
He lit a cigarette and didn’t offer me one. “Do you know what the best thing about all this is?”
Her bottom was perfectly outlined by her white dress. She looked ten times bigger. “What?”
She took a long draft and blew the smoke out her nose. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next: nobody does.”
Some girl whispered in a boy’s ear. Everyone laughed.
I said. “So, what do we do?”
Mustafa put his hand on mine.
I heard pounding coming from outside. I had this feeling that there wasn’t a lot of time left. “Do you want to dance?”
Mustafa was pressed against my tits. My hands were on his ass. We were one couple of many, dancing close and slowly. Tommy never left his piano. The pounding outside got louder, but we held each other closer. Those who had no partner found one. When they broke down the door, I looked at Mustafa. His head sat right on my breasts.
We kissed, and we didn’t stop, even when they stormed the room.