Short Stacks
Volume XIVa
~ss.md
Conservation of Mass
Rachel scoured the shadiest parts of the internet she could find, looking for something, anything to solve her problem. Her problem being… her chest. Her breasts, to be more specific, or lack thereof. Rachel’s mom had D-cups; her 19-year-old little sister had Es. Hell, even her grandma had sported some impressive curves in her heyday. Every girl in Rachel’s sorority had at least Bs or Cs, except for Rachel. Genetics, or fate, or the boob fairy had decided to skip her mother’s firstborn and give a little extra to Reese.
And Rachel was determined to fix it.
The claims made on the store page for the pills were dubious at best. Take a set of pills for a week, and your breasts would grow. Take another set when you were happy with your size, and you’d go back to normal. It definitely seemed too good to be true. But Rachel was desperate; she’d try anything, had tried almost everything. The second set of pills was out of stock, but Rachel ordered the first set anyway. Who knew how long it would take for them to work, or if they’d even work at all? If they did work, Rachel planned on getting bigger than everyone she knew before she’d consider taking the second set of pills.
***
Rachel thought the cashier’s eyes might fall out of his head if they opened any wider. Her L-cup breasts tested the material of her T-shirt to its limits, but it was the biggest shirt she had. Her H-cup sports bra distorted her chest to the point that anyone with eyes could see it was woefully inadequate for her overgrown bosom, which wasn’t helping matters.
The problem was her budget. The pills had worked; they’d almost worked too well. But you can’t grow huge tits out of nothing. Rachel’s frame had few spare ounces of fat before she’d taken the pills, and her appetite had skyrocketed since. Every extra penny she had went to food, and it was never enough. She got a membership to the big box warehouse store to maximize her grocery budget, but the overloaded cart she emptied onto the conveyor belt would barely last the week. Rachel had no extra money to buy larger tops, let alone bras that fit. Turns out a 32L is a very niche size.
Rachel strained to push the heavy cart across the parking lot, trying to ignore her bouncing chest and the warm tingles that spread down her body as the motion stimulated her nipples. She saw the fast food restaurant at the other end of the parking lot, and her stomach growled. But she knew there was only one part of her body demanding more sustenance—or rather, two parts.
“Would you two hush?” She hissed at her bouncing bosom. “I don’t have any money for burgers; I’ll eat when I get home. Besides, you’re big enough already!”
Unfortunately, the shady online store was still out of stock of the second set of pills. Rachel wondered if any of her sorority sisters had chubby friends who could donate some shirts.
Flash fiction based on this prompt:
A girl goes into a sweet shop and mysteriously gets fatter as she considers larger and larger purchases.
Contains: Breast Expansion as Weight Gain
Sweets Shop
Lynn knew she wasn’t going crazy. Sure, she hadn’t been working at the sweets shop for very long, and yeah, this VIP customer had been pretty big when she squeezed through the front door, but surely she hadn’t gotten bigger in the past twenty minutes, had she?
Sally was the largest Asian woman Lynn had ever seen. Heart-shaped face, a bubble butt wider than most chairs, and boobs that looked as big as her head.
“Did you see the donuts, Miss Sally?” Lynn’s boss asked.
There was already a mountain of candy and desserts piled up at the checkout counter. Lynn knew their job was to sell sweets, but wasn’t this getting a little excessive?
“Oh!” Sally said, licking her lips and waddling to the glass display case. “I haven’t gotten donuts here in ages!”
Sally bought three dozen of the shop’s donuts last week, but Lynn didn’t know that.
“Hmm, I’ll take half a dozen of the bear claws and half of the crullers…”
Lynn swore she could hear Sally’s bra creak.
“Actually, make it a dozen of each… And a dozen of those custard-filled long johns.”
Okay, her bottom definitely wasn’t that big a second ago. Lynn used a pair of tongs to fill three boxes with donuts while her boss led Sally to another display.
“What about our chocolate-dipped peanuts? Or maybe pretzels?”
“Ooh, a pound of those pretzels, please!”
Lynn had to wait until they moved further down the aisle before she could access the bin of chocolate pretzels.
“You like gummy bears, right, Miss Sally?”
“They’re the best! Two pounds of those.”
A round bit of plastic rolled across the shop floor until it hit Lynn’s shoe and came to a stop. She bent to pick up the button, which looked remarkably similar to the ones that ran down the front of Sally’s top. Lynn picked it up with trembling fingers, glancing at the customer, who now showed even more pale, jiggling cleavage. Something was definitely not right here.
On and on they went, with Lynn’s boss suggesting one sweet, sugary, calorific treat after another. Lynn filled boxes and bags with candy and desserts, adding them to the growing pile beside the register. Occasionally, other customers wandered into the shop, looked around for a few minutes, then left again when they saw both available employees fully occupied serving one enormous customer.
By the time Sally had considered every option the shop had on offer, her purchases were in real danger of avalanching off the counter. A bead of sweat rolled down Lynn’s neck as the floor beneath her feet trembled with each of Sally’s steps. The woman who waddled to the counter was twice the size she’d been an hour ago. Her pants splayed open, belly spilling out all around and over her waistband. Seams split along her thighs, and one heroic button still held on for dear life across the biggest set of tits Lynn had ever seen.
“Will that be all, Miss Sally?” Her boss asked. “Are you sure we can’t tempt you with anything else?”
Sally plucked a lollipop from the jar on the counter, popping it in her mouth. “One of these for the road, I guess.”
Her sole remaining button gave the last full measure of its service, nearly hitting Lynn in the eye.
Flash fiction based on this prompt:
A writer expands as she writes bigger and bigger characters in her stories. She sees it, but as if pushed by certain daemons she may or may not have struck a deal with, she can’t stop writing.
Contains: Breast Expansion as Weight Gain
One More Story
Clarissa’s fingers clacked across the keyboard, putting the finishing touches on her latest story. After all the adventures her heroine endured, she settled down with her sidekick so the two women could enjoy her watermelon-sized breasts for the rest of her days.
Make her bigger, a small but persistent voice said in the back of Clarissa’s mind.
With a sigh, Clarissa highlighted a few words on her screen and typed new ones. “The two women could enjoy her lap-filling breasts for the rest of her days.”
Not big enough, the voice insisted.
“Not big enough?” Clarissa asked her empty apartment.
Punctuating her words, the fetish writer rolled her computer chair away from the desk. She’d been sitting sideways, typing with one hand. She couldn’t face the desk and reach the keyboard, because her lap was filled with two enormous orbs of flesh wrapped in a T-shirt with multiple X’s on its tag. Clarissa patted her massive mams with her palms, making the flesh beneath wobble and quiver.
She’d put off writing another story for almost a month after the last one sent her beyond all known bra sizes. She could barely fit in her shower stall, and they rubbed against the steering wheel whenever she tried to drive. “If I make her any bigger, I won’t be able to walk!”
The only response to Clarissa’s angry threat was the persistent ticking of the wall clock, but the voice repeated, Bigger.
“Where am I going to get clothes that fit?” Clarissa asked. “I already lost my real job, and barely a hundred subscribers isn’t going to cover my bills if I have to custom-order more bras!”
The voice echoed its demand while Clarissa sat and stewed. She imagined her tropey fantasy heroine with her plucky, diminutive sidekick. They lived in a small cottage where the sidekick took care of all the chores by day and spent every night exploring the heroine’s massive tits. The scene should have been sufficiently arousing, but Clarissa found herself disappointed. If the heroine’s tits filled half the bed, the sidekick would be able to swim through them, sliding her entire body through her endless cleavage.
“No, no!” She said aloud. “That’s too big!”
Bigger…
Replaying the scene, the little five-nothing blonde wriggling through the heroine’s tits, Clarissa was already soaking her panties.
“For fuck’s sake…”
Sliding back to her desk, Clarissa deleted the line and resumed typing. Now too big for even the most renowned armorer’s breastplate to fit her, or even to ride a horse, the heroine retired with her sidekick. She couldn’t get around much, but her lover made up for it so enthusiastically that the heroine didn’t mind.
Clarissa pasted the story into her browser and clicked Submit. The voice in her head fell silent, drowned out by the gurgling sound of her swelling breasts.
Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Weird terrorist uses “Boob Bombs”, a type of weapon that, within a radius, increases the size of tits by 30-fold in seconds.
Contains: Breast Expansion as Weight Gain
Boob Bomb
Kelly and Kris raced down the service stairwell of a darkened office tower. Their tactical heels clacked on the diamond-plate stairs as they pursued their prey: a mysterious master thief known only by his pseudonym, The Mathmatist.
Kris ran slightly ahead of Kelly, the shorter brunette’s jiggling B-cups slowing her pace. Kelly was still far more nimble than their third teammate, Sabrina. The blonde had just returned to active duty after spending six months recovering from a bullet wound and had strict orders not to stress her body. The fact that Sabrina had gained twenty pounds and swollen to a full J-cup was something none of the women commented on.
Static crackled in Kris’s earpiece as she ran. It was Sabrina, radioing from the surveillance van parked outside.
“I’m getting nothing but static on the security system—he must have cut the feeds somehow.”
“Of course he did,” Kelly said through the coms. The brunette was nearly an entire floor behind Kris. “Can you get anything on infrared?”
“Trying now.”
Kris rounded a landing, grabbing the railing to spin herself to the next flight of stairs.
“I see two signatures moving fast,” Sabrina said. “That must be you two—about five floors up?”
“Just passed the fifth floor,” Kris said.
“The only other heat signature is at ground level—that has to be him.”
“He’s in the lobby,” Kris called behind her. “Hurry!”
“I’m hurrying!” Kelly’s voice echoed from above.
Kris stalked out of the service corridor into the dark lobby, pistol drawn and ready. A few seconds later, Kelly followed, covering her blind spots. “It’s over, Mathmatist!” Kris called. “The police are on their way!”
Kris saw a shadow move behind a marble column as the pop of Kelly’s shot rang in her ear. Polished stone sprayed from the column, but their target was unharmed. Derisive laughter echoed through the cavernous room.
“Hehehe… You can try to stop me, Sirens. But then you’ll never disarm my bomb in time…”
Sabrina’s voice crackled in Kris’s ear. “A bomb? Shit.”
“I see it!” Kelly said.
Kris followed her partner’s eyes, landing on a duffel bag unzipped on the security desk. They dashed toward it. A display screen showed a number: 9,227,465.
“Nine point two million?” Kris called out. “We’ll have hours to disarm your bomb!”
“Over three months,” Kelly added.
“You should pay more attention to details, Siren,” The Mathmatist sneered.
Kris looked at the display again. It read 832,040. “The hell?”
“It’s counting down in the Fibonacci Sequence. When it goes off, the dark matter inside will increase any woman’s breasts in a ninety-seven-foot radius by thirty-one fold! Good luck!!”
Cackling laughter followed the thief out as Kelly fired off two more ineffective shots. The timer was now down to 6,765. Kris tapped the screen, and a grid with a few scattered digits appeared. She groaned.
“Sudoku?” Kelly said. “That’s not even a math puzzle.”
The two women tapped in numbers and argued while the timer plummeted. 610, 377, 233…
“That’s a four.”
“No, there’s already a four in that square.”
“I hate this game.”
“Just let me do it!”
8, 5, 3, 2, 1, 1…
“No!”
Kris and Kelly dove away from the desk as the timer beeped. Instead of an explosion, a mild shockwave radiated out from the bomb. It blew back Kris’s short dark hair for a moment, and her earpiece popped. She pulled it out with a cry, tossing the smoking device to the floor.
Heat pulsed in her chest, and she felt herself expand. Within seconds, a pair of breasts the size of bowling balls stretched the material of her black tank top, untucking it from her belt. In curious fascination, Kris kneaded her new assets. “Huh. Who knew The Mathmatist was such a perv?”
Brushing herself off, Kris rose to her feet. The bomb had caused no destruction; it was more an annoyance than anything. She’d definitely be slower than Kelly, now.
Kris froze as her gaze landed on her partner. Kelly was bent over, trying to rise, but anchored to the floor by a pair of tits like giant bean bag chairs. Her own shirt was bundled around her neck, clearly inadequate for containing her enormous assets. “Holy shit…” She breathed. “How?”
“Didn’t you hear him?” Kelly grunted. “Thirty-one times bigger…”
“What’s with all his weird numbers?”
“Ugh. They’re primes.”
“Wait… if you grew that big… We need to find Sabrina!”
The front of the lobby exploded inward in a shower of broken glass. Kris looked up to see a pale, skin-colored wall inching toward them.
From beside her, Kelly said, “I think Sabrina found us.”