Perfectly normal for a girl your age. The weights..." she pushed the iron barbell weights hanging from my nipples and set them swinging, "... will help stretch your breasts out to your new size. They will also lengthen your nipples to help give you a more cow-like appearance."
She paused to gloat over my predicament. My hands were cuffed behind me. I was pressed against the exercise machine with my breasts stretched over the support, my nipples stretched horribly by the iron weights. I could not move because doing so would only pull my breasts more out of shape. Tears streamed down my face. I cried less from the pain than from the knowledge that Mrs. Reynolds intended to ruin me by turning my nice firm breasts into drooping udders. The weights already had my nipples pulled below the edge of the pad. I imagined that over time, they might well be stretched down to my stomach or even further. I pictured what I would look like with my breasts hanging down to my navel. At the same time, the fertility drugs would make me into a sex-fiend who would be unable to keep her hands off her pussy. Worse, I could look forward to having my huge breasts fill up with milk that I would be unable to express. I could not even imagine what that would feel like. I hung my head and tried to find a more comfortable stance behind the weight machine.
"I see you are contemplating your future," Mrs. Reynolds told me. "Let me be clear about the rules. You will continue to come here every day after school. You will continue to receive such treatment as I decide to administer. You will participate willingly in those treatments. You will wear these clamps and weights for an hour each afternoon. You may choose to use the stand for support, or you may sit, stand or lie in whichever position you like, but you will not be permitted to have the weights supported in any way. Am I clear so far?"
"Yes, Mrs. Reynolds."
"Good. After your weight-training period you may not dress. You will remain naked above the waist at all times when you are in this house. I want to be able to monitor your progress. You will use your spare time to complete whatever homework you have been assigned. I expect you to keep up your grades in school. You will continue your cheerleading. It will amuse me to sit on the sidelines and watch you flop around as you try to do your routines with your enormous udders. You will discuss this with no one. If you should disobey me or if it should ever enter your mind to try to seduce either of my boys again, I will cut off your nipples. If you fail to arrive here when you are supposed to, I will tell your mother what a perverted bitch you are. Am I perfectly clear on all of this?"
"Yes, Mrs. Reynolds."
"Good. Now, here is a timer you will use to be sure your weights stay on for the required hour. I will remove your restraints now. Remember, do not try to support the weights or I will start the timer over again."
She unlocked the handcuffs and put them back into the box with the rest of the paraphernalia. The only thing she left out aside from the clamps was the shears. These she placed in prominent view on a shelf to remind me of the consequences of disobeying her.
She took the box back upstairs and left me to suffer my torture alone. As much as I wanted to remain as still as possible, I found I could not stand in one position for long. Each time I moved, the weighs would start to swing and I would have to freeze in position until they stopped. The pain dulled as the minutes ticked by on the timer and I began to get bored with just standing there. I looked around the room for something to take my mind off the weights pulling on my breasts and their inevitable effects. I could see the wide-screen TV from where I was, but it wasn't on. I could see out the glass doors into the yard, but the trees and grass did not hold my interest for long. When I looked to my left I got a shock. There was a mirror on the wall behind the weight bench and I could see my reflection. I could see a side view of my breasts and how badly stretched they were. I began to cry again. My sobs made the weights bounce and pull on my breasts even harder. I quickly learned not to cry, but for some reason I could not stop looking at my grotesque reflection in the mirror. I kept wondering how distorted my breasts would become.
When only a few minutes remained on the timer, I decided to try to get myself off the support. I leaned forward as far as I could over the pad and found that I could grit my teeth and take the strain on my chest. I slid my hands under my breasts and lifted them up and off the support, but I could not clear the support with the weights. I fumbled around with the adjustment latch on the support until I figured out how to release it and lower it enough to allow the weights to clear the top.
When I stood upright for the first time in an hour I decided that the change of position was well worth the trade-off of having to support the weights from my breasts and my chest instead of just from my nipples. It seemed that the strain was better distributed this way. I felt my back muscles try to cramp from being forced to hold a stoop for so long and without thinking, I leaned back to try to work the kinks out. As I did, the weights swung around my sides and pulled my breasts apart. The change of direction hurt like hell, but it was a pain in a different place and I welcomed the change without regret. I even raised my arms up over my head to stretch my torso even more.