Short Stacks - 6A.pdf
Short Stacks
Volume VI, Part A
Breast Expansion Edition
~ss.md
Lifetime Supply
Jan was concerned for her roommate.
Well, Jan ‘had been’ concerned for her roommate for some time.
Lana had a ‘complicated’ relationship with chocolate. Some would call it love–hate. Jan mostly called it love–love. So when ChocoMad ran a contest where one lucky winner would receive a lifetime supply of Lana’s favorite cold beverage, Jan did her best to keep her roommate from finding out. Some things are inevitable however, and the same day Lana saw a retweet about the contest online, she drove to every grocery and convenience store in town, filling the trunk and backseat of her car with the stuff.
Jan tried to gently suggest to her roommate that she didn’t need to drink every bottle to find out if it had a winning cap, but Lana refused to let the stuff go to waste. So for five solid weeks Jan’s roommate was never without a clear bottle with its red label, sucking the thick brown liquid down like it was water.
Lana had been busty from the day Jan met her. A tall, vivacious redhead to Jan’s five–nothing mousy bobbed brunette. But Jan was convinced there was something in ChocoMad that was making her roommate… expand.
It would be perfectly understandable if a twenty–something young woman drank chocolate milk from dawn to dusk put on a few pounds. And while Lana stayed thin and statuesque through the entire month–and–a–half adventure, Jan was certain that Lana’s breasts were getting bigger. By the time Lana inevitably found the winning cap, she’d popped half a dozen shirt buttons, and all her tees had become crop–tops.
Of course, Jan foolishly assumed that if Lana managed to win the contest, her ChocoMad intake would adjust back to a reasonable level. But words like ‘moderation’ and ‘enough’ had never been in Lana’s lexicon, and Jan watched cases of ChocoMad that were supposed to last a month being emptied almost weekly.
Showing a thorough lack of forethought, the company that sold ChocoMad didn’t do something sensible like set a limit on the special card they sent Lana when she reported her winning cap. It entitled the bearer to any quantity of ChocoMad from any retailer, to be reimbursed by the company. That included delivery apps, so Lana paid only the delivery fees and driver tips, in addition to cleaning out the local stores every time she went out. Jan sometimes liked to visualize the conversations in the accounting department when they saw the bills flowing in from retailers having their entire stock emptied as soon as they were replenished.
And so Jan watched Lana drink and drink, and grow and grow. Her breasts had been the size of her head when she found the winning cap, but now she was blowing through bra sizes faster than a kid singing the alphabet song. Jan was certain her roommate was spending her whole paycheck on upgraded bras and tops, but even still she was constantly faced with acres of cleavage, and occasionally flashed when Lana outgrew a blouse or snapped another bra.
“Hey, Lana…?”
“–ulp ulp aaahhhh– what’s up?”
“Do you think you should maybe… cut back on that stuff?”
Lana and Jan both looked over the immense tits that spread across the kitchen table, larger than any store–bought watermelons.
“Nah… it’s too tasty!” Lana said, twisting the cap off a fresh bottle. “Plus it’s got lots of vitamin D.”
Jan sighed and headed for the door.
“Could you pick me up another case on your way home?” Lana called.
Jan grabbed the card from the bowl of keys, wondering idly if Lana was also going to have a case delivered while she was at work.
She definitely was.
Reborn in Another World Where Boobs Hold Mana
Karina sighed, closing the dating app and dropping her phone in her lap. She’d thought that maybe she’d have better luck with women. She wasn’t sure what a relationship with a woman would look like, though she didn’t exactly have the best track record with men either. Things with Jacey had been going so well; they vibed, she seemed to appreciate Karina’s jokes, but everything had gone wrong, like it always did, when she sent updated photos.
Was it a little bit disingenuous for the most recent photo on her profile to be five years old? Sure. But was it a crime to want to get past that first stage of rejection in the attention-deficit hellscape that was modern dating? Karina didn’t think so. Most of the photos on her profile were candids from college, plus her cousin’s wedding when she was twenty, and one from the girls’ trip she’d taken with her dormmates to Cancun. Every photo that showed more of Karina than her face and a little tasteful cleavage was at least fifteen kilos and two cup sizes ago.
She thought that, once she was vibing with someone, the revelation that she was closer to a J-cup than a double-D would’ve guaranteed a second date, but she’d yet to find a single match who stayed interested after the big reveal. Some guys made token efforts to soften the blow, some were bluntly honest, like ripping off the Band-Aid, but it always felt closer to a gut punch. Jacey had done something almost worse, no, definitely worse: without commenting on the photo, as if Karina hadn’t sent it at all, she kept up their friendly messages. Only, instead of a steady back-and-forth throughout the day, Jacey‘s replies started to take an hour, then an afternoon, then a day or more. It had been over a week since Jacey‘s last message, and Karina was well and truly ghosted.
Karina pushed herself up from the couch and padded into her kitchenette. She wasn’t sure why Jacey‘s rejection hurt so much more than her last dozen aborted matches, but she couldn’t sit and spiral with negative thoughts. She just needed to switch her brain off for a few hours, re-watching her favorite sitcom until she passed out. Unfortunately, her emergency pint of “emotional support” Rocky Road had about three tablespoons left in the bottom of its carton. To make matters worse, the bottle of five-euro rosé from ALDI was half buried in her overflowing recycling bin.
She allowed herself a moment to wallow in frustration and rage, resisting the urge to scream. The last thing she needed was a “concerned“ chat from her upstairs neighbor, Mrs. McGibbons, the next time they met in the hall. Karina spent five minutes debating whether or not she could disassociate her way through the rest of the evening raw-dog. With another sigh, she grabbed her jacket off its hook and stepped into a ratty pair of flats. What was the point of living two blocks from a convenience store if she wasn’t going to avail herself of overpriced sleep aids?
Under the buzzing glow of sodium lamps, Karina trudged down the abandoned city sidewalk. With virtually no traffic in sight, she crossed the intersection despite the glowing red hand. As she stepped off the curb, Karina felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. In a flash of uncharacteristic optimism, she wondered if Jacey had finally responded to her last DM. The notification on her glowing screen, however, was merely the Amazon app teasing “we found something you might like.“ At the sound of squealing brakes, Karina looked up. The last thing she saw was the telltale absurdist glow of the bar headlight of a Cybertruck.
***
“Seriously? A fucking Cybertruck?“
Karina stood in a featureless room, every surface a blue so pale it was almost white. The space was so bright she had to squint after the darkened city she’d been walking through seconds before.
“Welcome, human.“
Karina spun at the voice, finding herself face-to-face—well, face-to-tits—okay, fine, face to sternum—with a goddess. At least, a goddess as imagined by a particularly lewd comic book artist. Or maybe a mangaka. Definitely a gynophile. She towered over Karina, at least two meters tall, with blonde balayage waves straight out of a salon poster, a white toga dress thing that was barely there, and an assortment of gold bangles and chains wrapped around her arms, her waist, and holding the scraps of fabric together. She was exquisite. Luscious and ripe, with boobs that could only exist in art, the kind of rack that laughed at the very notion of gravity. The best genetics in the world, plus the best treatments and procedures money could buy, with the very finest makeup ever created, could not have produced a face half as perfect.
She was breathtaking. Literally. Karina’s chest clenched, and her heart ceased. Finally, she forced her mouth to speak. It was supposed to be “what?“ but came out as a little more than an incoherent gasp.
“You have been chosen,“ the goddess said.
Her voice was ethereal and harmonic, like several voices singing at once, each of them more lovely than the most lauded singers in the history of the human race. Karina wasn’t sure if she wanted to weep or come.
“As your reward, you may have a second chance. When you leave this place, you will be sent to another world.”
“Really? A fucking isekai?“ Karina’s brain was slowly recovering from her shock at the goddess’s appearance.
“A world of heroes and magic,” the goddess continued, as if Karina hadn’t spoken. “A place where your deeds and their rewards are more closely aligned.”
“That sure is a fancy way to say XP…”
“Please select a class from the following list: night, mage, Hunter, rogue.“
Karina thought about the various games she’d played over the years. She normally preferred the simplicity and catharsis of a melee class, but the thought of getting so up close and personal in real life turned her stomach. Plus, her roommate Sarah had run an entire Pathfinder campaign their sophomore year, and Karina definitely didn’t want to deal with the social hassles of being some kind of thief. Ranger might be okay, but then she remembered her uncle’s endless, droning stories about deer hunting and “bow season” she’d had to endure at countless Christmases and Thanksgivings.
“I guess… Mage.”
For the first time since she started talking, a hint of emotion cracked the goddess’s orgasm-inducing visage. Her eyes roamed lasciviously down to Karina’s feet and back, pausing to appreciate her chest. The gaze lasted right up until the moment Karina felt an impulse to cover herself with her arms, and then the goddess’s eyes locked onto hers with a smirk. “Excellent choice.”
The goddess raised two fingers in a gesture of benediction and said, “Enjoy your new life!” as Karina’s world faded to white.
***
Karina appeared in her new world with a gentle pop and a faint queasiness in her stomach, like she’d been riding in a car and the driver had suddenly slammed on their brakes. Though she couldn’t have described it, she knew immediately that she was no longer on Earth. At least, not the Earth she knew. The sky wasn’t quite the right blue, slightly green, but closer to teal than the pea soup shade of an impending storm. She stood in an idealized version of a rural countryside: all prairie grass, low shrubs, and a smattering of trees. The trees were slightly unnatural as well—a bit too uniform, as if some artist or designer had tried to recreate the chaotic randomness of real trees, but hadn’t quite pulled it off. As with the sky, the colors were a bit odd: the browns too brown, and the greens too green. It was like some overly cheerful video game or anime, or perhaps Ireland. At least, the Ireland Karina had seen depicted in films and TV.
As her nausea faded, Karina realized she felt better than she had since she was a teenager. Strong, healthy, no aches in her shoulders or pain in her lower back. The heaviness she’d lived with since around 19 or 20, weighing on her, slowing her down, was gone. She held a long gray stick – a staff, she mentally corrected herself – and stood at a crossroads.
Looking down at herself, her arms, legs, and everything else she could see without the aid of a mirror, Karina discovered with dismay that, despite her newfound vitality, her body was unchanged. She was dressed like a medieval peasant, though again, the outfit was cleaner and more idealized than a real medieval peasant. She wore a shirt of some natural fabric, and a skirt that reached just to her knees with an embroidered bodice that cinched her waist. The outfit was cute, if nothing she’d ever wear, even when Sarah convinced her to go to a Renn Faire. The shirt, though it fit her perfectly, showed more cleavage than Karina ever displayed, even at the beach. She tugged the neckline upward, but it fell back in exactly the same position.
After seeing the goddess and this idyllic world, Karina was more than a little disappointed that she still looked the same. She’d expected to appear like a video game character, like Keira Knightley in those Pirates movies, or like one of those anime characters, who all looked about eighteen even into their late twenties.
Well, she thought, if I’m a Mage, I should at least be able to do magic.
She picked up the staff in both hands, pointed it at a small tree, and said, “Um… Fire bolt!”
Nothing happened.
One of her foster families had made her attend Mass, and Karina tried to remember some of the Latin she’d picked up.
“Ignis!”
A blast of red-orange flame shot from the ornament at the head of her staff, rocketing toward a nearby sapling. The tree’s small trunk erupted in a spray of splinters, flames licking up its spindly limbs and the surrounding grass.
“Shit, shit!”
Karina dashed to the small fire, stomping on the burning grass and leaves with her shoes. They were some kind of soft leather, but were undamaged by her “firefighting” efforts. When all the fire was out, she leaned on her staff, though she felt far less winded than she expected.
“Lesson learned, I guess,” she said to the air.
With no apparent quests or other goals, Karina read the crude sign at the crossroads. An arrow to the right read, “Fields of Fire 328.” To the left, “Frost Peaks 1283.” And straight ahead, “Ferndale, 17.”
She had no idea what the numbers represented, but Ferndale sounded like a town. It was also the closest by far. Maybe she’d find a quest there, or a place to stay. Maybe they’d even have a healer. If there was magic in this world, she wanted to find someone who could fix her body. At the very least, shrink her ridiculous boobs down to be proportional to the rest of her frame.
Karina rested her staff on one shoulder and started walking.
***
“Kyaaaah!”
Karina’s first impulse was to run away from the cry instead of toward it, but if this world operated on some kind of game rules, maybe this was a quest. She jogged toward the screaming.
A small, thin figure with long blonde hair cowered against a tree. She clutched a basket filled with fruit, vaguely pear-shaped but with blue and violet skin. More importantly, she was being threatened by a green-skinned creature with long, jagged ears.
“Help!” The girl yelled. “Just leave me alone!”
Yep, definitely a quest.
Karina tamped her staff on the dirt road and attempted her best hero pose. “Hold it right there!”
Her body tingled with a draft of cool air as something happened to her dress. She thought she heard someone say, “Finally.”
Glancing down, Karina gasped at the amount of skin on display. Bare skin. Her bare skin. Somehow, her dress had transformed into some kind of pervy armor. Glittering plate and chain mail hugged her boobs like a metal bikini top. Her bottoms matched, with a belt around her waist and a few scraps of chain mail barely covering her hips. She wore strappy, Roman-style sandals and bracers of the same material.
“What the fu—“ She didn’t have time to figure out her magic wardrobe; she’d gotten the goblin’s attention.
“Ignis!”
One fire bolt stopped it. At the second, it roared with rage. The third, so close Karina could feel its heat, dropped the goblin to a smoldering heap.
Karina approached the corpse cautiously, wondering if she was supposed to loot it or something. She extended a foot to nudge it when she remembered her toes were bare. In that instant, her outfit changed back into a dress, her sandals returning to leather shoes. She decided against touching the goblin. It had no pockets to go through—it had barely been wearing clothes.
“Um… thank you so much…”
The woman she’d saved had lilac skin and long, pointed ears. Karina said, “If there are elves, then this thing is definitely a goblin. Or, was…”
“Hmm?” The elf wore a puzzled expression, but her eyes were studying Karina a bit too thoroughly.
“Never mind. You’re welcome.”
The elf stepped in a circle around Karina, speaking to herself. “The accent, the masterwork frock. You’re an advena, a hero from another world? Such magic… Even old Enra can barely light a candle with her fire. Though I shouldn’t wonder, with mana sacks like that…”
Her cheeks reddened, and she took a step back. “Sorry, sorry! I’m a bit of a flibbertigibbet.” She made a slight bow. “Venri Greencloud, at your service.”
“Karina Novak. Call me Karina.”
Venri beamed. She was about Karina’s height, but with a slim, almost boyish figure. From a distance, she’d seemed quite young, but up close, Karina saw the faintest lines of age on her face, and her eyes held a gravitas only decades of life could produce.
She seems nice.
It was the same voice from before. It seemed to come from inside Karina’s chest, speaking in a crisp RP like a haughty Kate Beckinsale.
“Who said that?” Karina spun, looking all around. Her breasts wobbled despite the snug bodice, and she thought she heard the voice grunt softly.
“Mistress?”
The voice didn’t speak again, and now Karina looked like an idiot in front of this nice elf woman she’d just saved. “Nothing, probably just a gnat.”
Venri’s pale brows twitched in confusion, but she said, “If you’re going to Ferndale, I know the inkeeper there. Can I offer you a room and a hot meal as thanks? Only if you were going that way—I would never deter you from your Quest!”
As far as Karina knew, she carried only the clothes on her back and a magic staff. She hadn’t been looking forward to camping or rolling the dice with random berries or mushrooms in some fantasy world. “That’s, um, very kind of you. Lead the way.”
***
“More ale, hero?”
There were still several good swigs of ale in Karina’s tankard. She’d lost count of how many times it’d been refilled. She held a hand over the cup to keep Lialeth from pouring more into it.
“I’ve definitely had enough, thank you.”
“Are you certain? It’s on the house.”
Venri’s sister owned the sole tavern in Ferdale, and everything had been on the house. Lialeth claimed the title of older sister, but Karina could see no difference in their ages. The tavernkeep was somewhat fuller-figured than her sister, for an elf. Among humans, she’d barely have been considered thick. She’d proven very grateful to Karina for “rescuing” her little sister, and had piled Karina‘s table with food. Stew with big chunks of meat and unknown vegetables that she ate without question, and a tankard of ale that Lialeth had never allowed to run empty. The voice returned a few times to tease her about the tavernkeep’s attention, but she tried to ignore it.
Karina took shallow breaths; all that the bodice of her weird outfit would allow. “One more and I’m liable to split a seam.”
You’d better not.
Lialeth’s eyes darted to her cleavage. Karina avoided wearing such revealing clothes because of such looks, but she found the attention less onerous than she expected.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lialeth grinned. “Your room is prepared, when you’re ready to retire. There’s no urgency, of course.”
The common room had been raucous and welcoming when Karina arrived, but dusk had fallen some hours ago. A handful of patrons remained, tiredly sipping their ales as the bard strummed soft laments instead of jigs.
“That sounds like an excellent idea.”
With her sister covering the bar, Lialeth showed Karina to her room. The tavern had several smaller rooms with bunks, but they’d offered Karina the suite. A spacious double bed covered in handmade quilts and a small fireplace against the chill.
“Wow, this is really nice—“ Karina turned to find Lialeth had followed her into the suite. The elf stood well within her personal space, wearing an expression Karina could interpret despite the difference of worlds and races.
“Is there any other service I could provide, Hero?”
Ah, finally. She really wants to get me off you.
“Stop that!” Karina muttered.
Lialeth took a step back. “Apologies, Mistress. It was too bold of me—“
“Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you.”
As quickly as she’d retreated, Lialeth was back. Her hands hovered so close to Karina’s hips that they tingled. “Then… you’ll allow me to… thank you properly?”
For a wonder, the voice was silent.
Random hook-ups weren’t her thing, but neither was murdering goblins with fire. “A-alright…”
The elf’s nimble fingers disappeared below Karina’s boobs as she undid the laces on her dress. Karina sighed with relief, a moment before Lialeth’s mouth met hers.
***
“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Hero,” Enra said.
“Please, call me Karina.”
The only healer in Ferndale was a human woman who Karina guessed to be in her early fifties.
“Alright, Karina. I’m confused. You want to make your mana sacks… smaller?”
“Why do you keep calling them that? Do you not have the word ‘breasts’ in this world?”
“We do,” Enra said. “But it’s rarely used unless referring to… Are you with child, Hero?”
“What? No!”
“Apologies, apologies. You must truly come from another world if you don’t understand mana.”
Karina sighed. “Yes. Explain it to me like I’m five.”
“Eh? Ah, yes. What a clever joke, Hero.”
The healer dug through the clutter of her shop as she spoke. “I’ve heard the tales of your bold rescue of Venri Greencloud, so you must know some magic from your world. It’s much the same here, but the power of our magic, mana, is stored in mana sa—er, breasts. This is why most mages are women, using their men for close-up combat and mana batteries. The larger—”
“Wait, mana batteries?”
Enra’s expression turned lascivious. “Mana is recharged by giving and receiving pleasure. In rare cases, it can even increase your capacity.”
“Increase my… You mean they might get even bigger!?”
Something had been nagging at her about the previous night’s rendezvous. It was her first time with another woman, though Lialeth had been eager and giving enough to more than make up for Karina’s naivety. The elf had given her three of the best orgasms of her life. If she hadn’t slipped out of the suite afterward, making the nature of the encounter clear, Karina would’ve been tempted to stay in Ferndale for the rest of her new life. But looking back, she remembered feeling something unusual in her boobs. Not unpleasant, but a tight, tingling sensation. Had that been her mana recharging? Had her stupid boobs grown bigger?
Enra tutted. “As I said, it’s very rare. But you’ve been quite blessed already. Ah, here it is!”
She produced a dusty booklet from under a stack of herb bundles and handed it to Karina. “This is my spell book. It’s yours now.”
“I can’t take this!”
Enra waved a hand. “I memorized them all years ago, and lack the mana to cast more than a handful. You’ll get far more use out of it than I ever did.”
Karina flipped through the worn and dog-eared pages. “Thank you, thank you so much.”
“As to the other thing, I prescribe a change in perspective. Whatever your old world was like, man—er, breasts are venerated here.”
“I’ll consider that, thanks.”
Karina got directions to the capital and left Ferndale, determined to find a more open-minded healer.
***
As she approached the lake, Karina knew the Nekos who’d asked for her help had been right about there being something wrong. A thick fog hung over the lake, and the water itself appeared dark and turbulent. It was like a heavy storm in this one spot; the weather had been sunny and clear everywhere else.
With a splash and a piercing cry like a drowning seagull, a pair of creatures floated out of the water. They were amorphous blue, hovering in the air, and seemed to pulse threateningly.
Here we go, the voice she was starting to recognize as her outfit said.
Her bodice and dress changed into armor, and Karina tried out one of her new spells.
“Coruscus!”
Lightning crackled from her staff, jolting to one sprite and jumping to the other. She was starting to feel the mana inside her, and it seemed she could cast more and stronger spells than the day before.
Karina blasted the sprites again. The first erupted in a splash, while the other lobbed its own attack. A ball of water flew at her like a water balloon. It seemed comical to Karina until the water hit her. The impact stung, and the liquid was somehow scalding and ice-cold simultaneously.
“Ow, ow!”
You’ve let them get me wet.
Her armor sounded more upset at her than the water sprite.
“Coruscus!”
The second sprite burst, but two more emerged from the lake, along with a third, much larger version. Karina shot lightning at them, ducking and dodging their attacks. She was more nimble than she used to be, but still took several more hits. By the time the boss sprite erupted, Karina wobbled on her feet, aching as if she’d fallen down stairs. With her attention on her foes, she’d stepped much closer to a bluff overlooking the lake. Her sandal slipping on wet stone, Karina careened off the edge and into the water.
***
As she sank further into the deep, Karina wished her past self had learned to swim. Her armor had changed back after the fight, however, and she would’ve had a hard time treading water wearing a fantasy barmaid cosplay.
Don’t go blaming this on me. If you don’t know how to swim, I’d think you would avoid jumping into lakes.
Underwater as she was, Karina couldn’t voice a retort, but she suspected the dress could sense her thoughts, somehow.
Your suspicion is correct, though I’d prefer not to be described as “the dress.”
Before Karina could reflect on that statement, a figure emerged in the murky water; all limbs and hair and… fins?
The woman pressed her lips to Karina’s, forcing air into her lungs. The darkness creeping into the edges of her vision clarified. The woman wrapped her in a princess carry and propelled her back to the surface. She laid Karina on a pebbled beach, where she coughed up water and finally got a good look at her savior.
Blonde barrel curls with pink highlights that seemed unaffected by the water, pale lavender skin everywhere but the turquoise clamshells covering a pair of breasts nearly as large as her own, and from the waist down, an aquamarine fish tail to match the shells. Elves, goblins, and catgirls; why not mermaids, too?
Indeed.
The dress—or whatever—speaking made Karina aware that her outfit was somehow completely dry. Runnels of water trickled through the pebbles back into the lake. Thanks, she thought.
It’s not for you—I daresay I dislike being drenched as much as you dislike wearing wet clothes. Nevertheless, you’re welcome.
“Are you alright, Hero?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“My lake is dangerous if you can’t swim. Though I don’t know how any of you landfolk swim with these things.” She ran a hand up Karina’s thigh.
“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind. I’m Karina.”
“Eldoris.” She slid further out of the water, framing Karina’s hips with her arms. “I can’t thank you enough for ridding my lake of those wretched sprites.”
People in this world certainly weren’t big on personal space. “It’s no problem. I, er—“ Karina decided not to mention she was on a quest for a village of Neko, just in case catfolk and merfolk didn’t get along. “—I was in the area anyway.”
“But—“
“It’s me who should be thanking you; I would have drowned if you hadn’t saved me.”
“Oh, no, no. I’m in your debt!”
“I can’t— You know what? Let’s just say we’re in each other’s debt and call it even.”
“In that case…” Eldoris ran a finger along the edge of a clamshell. “Would you permit me to recharge your mana, at least?”
***
As she made her way back to the Neko village, Karina could tell her breasts had grown again. The blouse top of her outfit pinched and pressed into her skin, its low neck slipping dangerously lower, resisting her every attempt to pull it up.
With the lingering adrenaline of nearly dying flooding her system instead of bottomless ale dulling her senses, she’d felt everything. When Eldoris teased their nipples together—Karina’s outfit opening at her consent before she could touch its laces—mana had trickled between their bodies, rising to a tidal wave as they crested their respective orgasms.
“If you’re not ‘The Dress,’ what should I call you?”
The outfit sighed audibly. Foreigners are always so ignorant. I suppose it can’t be helped. I am TK, Bulwark of Muneate.
“That’s a bit of a mouthful.”
You’re a bit of a bodice-ful, TK retorted.
“What?”
Never mind. TK, if you must.
“And you’re… magic armor? Talking magic armor?”
Only the breastplate you wear, to be precise. The rest of your attire is merely extensions of my glorious self.
“Figures I’d get a magic breastplate…”
Do you still not comprehend the nature of— No matter. Yes, I was created to protect and support mana sacks.
“Fair enough.”
Karina entered the largest house in the village and presented the mayor and her partner with a handful of faintly glowing river stones Eldoris called water sprite cores. TK and KT offered her a room for the night and threw a feast in her honor. The large dining room was packed with Neko, by turns generous and fawning, and eager to hear of Karina’s world and her adventures.
Like everyone else she’d met, the catfolk were very tactile, taking any excuse to touch her arm, shoulder, even her back.
The mayor seems particularly interested.
No, she can’t be, Karina thought. She has a spouse.
Apart from their ears and tails, Nekos appeared human. The mayor and her husband sat to either side of Karina, refilling her plate and brushing fingers against her as they partied.
Perhaps they wish to share…
The pair definitely were handsy.
Among other appendages…
A soft tail teased the hem of her skirt, brushing her bare leg.
“I’d better get to bed,” Karina blurted. “You said you have a room for me?”
“The best room in the manor, if you want it,” KT purred.
“With a very large bed,” TK added, running a finger along Karina’s jaw.
Shit, TK had been right. Well, when in Rome…
Where’s Rome?
Hush, you. “Lead the way.”
***
~ss.md
Overqualified
Molly’s Milk Bar was famous across the city both for its delicious milk and dairy based menu items, and the voluptuousness of its hucow staff in their Holstein print maid outfits. Pretty much everyone who worked at Molly’s ‘front of house’ wore comical prosthetic bra inserts to create watermelon sized cleavage to bounce and sway, dangling enticingly in the faces of customers. Molly’s patrons were mostly male, but more than a few women were regulars.
It was probably inevitable that Bess got a job working at Molly’s. Being particularly blessed from a young age, and continuing to slowly grow well into her early twenties, Bess was the first ‘milk maid’ Molly ever hired who didn’t need prosthetics to match her coworkers’ appearance. At first, the sight of the incredibly well–endowed Bess stirred feelings of jealousy in the other waitresses, but once word got out that the tall, blonde cowgirl was 100% natural, the milk bar got so crowded that the patrons and tips spilled over to the rest of the milk maids.
Unfortunately, Lucy didn’t share her fellow maids’ begrudging appreciation for Bess’ voluptuousness. Standing barely five feet and filling out her work uniform almost entirely with foam, Lucy decided to sabotage the smug blonde.
The second thing anyone meeting Bess learned about, after her enormous teats, was the tall cowgirl’s appetite. Claiming the extra calories all went to her chest, Bess regularly ate two to three times as much as any of her coworkers. So Lucy found a supplement powder designed to help nursing mothers and started mixing it into Bess’ milkshakes and banana splits.
At first, Lucy cursed her stupidity. All she’d managed to accomplish was bumping Bess up her next few cup sizes even faster. Molly joked that after one more upsize she’d need to start having Bess’ uniforms custom–order. After a few weeks though, Bess started having ‘issues.’
The first was a button that popped right in front of a customer. The next day one of the other maids spotted the dark wet patches on Bess’ uniform apron and Molly sent her home early. These mishaps continued with more frequency as Lucy continued sprinkling the lactation powder into Bess’ snacks. The customers didn’t seem to mind, however, and both the requests to sit in Bess’ section and the milky blonde’s tips were growing even faster than her ridiculous boobs.
Shift after shift Bess continued to grow and grow. She leaked, dripped milk on plates, suffered wardrobe malfunctions, and raked in more tips than the rest of Molly’s maids combined. Lucy was furious, and eventually stopped dosing Bess’ treats, but the damage was done— Bess kept growing, and the tips kept flowing.
One day Lucy overheard Molly talking to Bess in her office, and stood flat against the wall, eavesdropping.
“If you’re willing, Bess, a position at my new store could be very lucrative for you…”
“What would I have to do?”
“We’re marketing products there made entirely from hucow milk. Your milk.”
“M–my…”
“And. For customer who pay a very high premium, private nursing rooms.”
“N–nursing…”
There was a long pause.
“How lucrative are we talking?” Bess asked.
“The prices will be nearly tenfold what they are here.”
“Ten…! And with…”
“With tips to match, yes.”
Enraged, Lucy stepped into the doorway, readying a verbal tirade against her matronly boss.
“Oh Lucy!” Molly smiled. “Just the maid I wanted to see. I have a special opportunity for you, if you don’t mind taking some of that powder you’ve been sneaking to Bess here.”
Bess and Lucy’s mouths dropped in comical unison.
“What… how…?” Lucy stammered.
“There are no secrets from me in my place.” Molly said simply. “But never mind that. While Bess here will definitely pull big numbers at my new club, a girl your size would be a very expensive… ‘delicacy.’”
The silence stretched.
“Or… I could always fire you for drugging a fellow employee?” Molly said sweetly.
Bess and Lucy both took the job.
~ss.md
Claire’s Black Friday
Channeling her best ‘Karen,’ Claire strode tits–first through the glass doors of the local burger joint. Some called it a chain, though Tommy’s only had 5 locations— only one was even in a different state. The mousy blonde hostess gaped at the brunette’s chest as her medicine–ball size bosom wobbled and quaked.
“H–how many?”
“Just one.” Claire smiled. “And I have a coupon.”
Claire twisted to one side so she could extend an arm past her torso to show the little hostess her clipped slip of glossy newsprint.
“T–this is for 5 Guys…” The hostess mumbled, still staring at over a foot of cleavage filling Claire’s green tank top.
“Oh I know. But your store policy on your website says you honor other chains coupons plus ten percent.”
“Oh!” The hostess squeaked. “Well, if you’ll just follow please…”
The booths at Tommy’s were generous, but Claire slid up to the edge of the bench seat so she could rest her overlarge chest on the tabletop.
“Y–your server will be right with you…” the hostess finally broke her gaze from Claire’s cleavage and scurried away.
Three Hours Later
“Three more double bacon cheeseburgers for table eight!”
“Megan,” the shift manager hissed, “how is table eight still here??”
“I don’t know Dan!” Megan huffed. “She just keeps eating and eating…”
“Well, at least it’ll be quite a bill. But we’re starting to run out of stuff! First pickles, and now we’ll be lucky if the buns we have last until closing!”
“So you probably don’t want me to tell you about the coupons?” Megan said.
“Coupons?”
“She’s got all these coupons. And with the restaurant’s matching policy, we may end up owing her money by the time she’s done.”
“How is that possible!?” Dan nearly screeched.
“Well, this one,” Megan pulled a slip from her apron and handed it to her manager, “says one free burger. And this one,” she handed him another, “says buy one get one free.”
Dan’s face went pale, then red. “Are there no limits on these!?”
“You’re the manager, Dan, you tell me!”
Dan rushed to his office to review the company policy on coupons. Megan slid three plates with tall burgers accompanied by mounds of waffle fries onto a platter.
Claire sucked the grease off her fingers as she finished another burger. She rested her hands on her mountainous breasts as they swelled up from the tabletop. They were nearly twice the size they’d been when she arrived. Her skin was starting to turn a little pink from the pressure of all the beef and carbs she’d packed into her unnatural bosom, but Claire was still hungry. Her eyes lit up when she saw the tall thin form of her server returning with more burgers.
“Oh good. Here.” Claire handed Megan another coupon. Buy 5 get 5. Megan’s face went pale as she tried to count how many of Claire’s burgers had not been free. It was at least fifteen. Sure, they were 50% off, but that didn’t matter, apparently. Claire was already wolfing down the first of the three burgers, alternating bites with mouthfuls of fries. Megan thought she could see the girl’s breasts swelling with each bite.
“Just bring them out whenever they’re ready. –homf– It should be twenty–five more.”
“R–right away miss.”
Never mind buns and pickles. They were going to run out of beef at this rate.