Whump… Smack!
Halfway between one precise leap and another, Sakura's melons bounced free and smacked her in the face. Blind, she stumbled and caught her toe on the flat roof's edge.
"Fuuuuuuuck!" She cried as she fell.
Mind you, a twenty foot fall onto asphalt didn't bother her much. Hell it barely hurt. All she'd really done was wound her pride. And land in a dark alley full of trash. Fuck. Naturally, her tits had slipped free. And while she struggled to wobbled them back behind their frail restraint, she made her way back to light of the streets. She'd seen enough hentai to know how hanging around would play out.
She had to walk the rest of the way. And when she finally got to the street with all the clothing stores. Nobody helped her. The plus-sized lady boutique still hadn't gotten her order. And every other clothing shop met her with narrowed eyes and folded arms. They were sure she was pulling some sort of prank. She ended up with her picture on the wall of several establishments.
Finally, desperate, she ducked into a swimsuit shop. One of those adult ones with brown paper in the windows. And an entrance in the back.
Inside, she found rack after rack of bathing suits. All for women. Bikinis by any other name. But she swore there was more hanger than cloth on them because god damn was this some skimpy swimwear!
There was only one sales lady. A bottle blonde gyaru with a cheetah print bikini top, some daisy dukes, and not much else for clothes besides lots of jewelry. Sensing her customer's distress, she lead Sakura to the store's back. Where they kept the really big swimsuits.
Ultimately the only model which fit her was the 'fetish wear' model. A skinny thong of stretchy material which clung to her plush hips like a second skin. Two high and looping stems of material sprouted from there. Forming vertical slings which barely covered her nipples. A palm-sized diamond of cloth covered each of her swollen rosebuds.
She was limited on print too, they were all lewd! One was cheetah printed, another had the green stripes of a watermelon. And the third? Why it was cow patterned! Of course. Sakura eliminated the cheetah print right away. Torn between the two others, she resorted to a coin flip. Tails landed her with the cow print bikini. The cashier rang her up with the best sympathetic smile she could muster. Not a natural expression for her obviously, but Sakura appreciated the effort.
Her final purchase that day was a breast pump. One of those expensive automatic ones which a pregnant woman could passively wear. Going about her life while the machine drained the nutrient rich fluid from her bust. Sakura would be damned if she was gonna wake up covered in milk again!
On Tuesday, she was a K cup. Her new bust measurement was 113 centimeters (45 inches for Americans like yours truly). And the first day she'd be back at work. She knew there'd be hell to pay for the past two skips.
Meticulous as ever, Sakura strapped herself into her new underwear. The sling bikini went under her clothes of course. Her skirt of course covered the criminally tiny thong. But the straps of it were clearly visible across her toned stomach. Her dress had its last button an inch below her shallow belly button. She'd never given it much thought before now. Still, even though she couldn't get the tiny garment closed across her epic bust. She still insisted on fastening the last button.
"Don't let them get to you… Don't let them get to you…" Sakura chanted to herself. With a book entitled How to be a Bad Bitch For Dummies in hand. Hinata's recommendation. "They're just jealous bitches. You're not even that big…"
The rest of Konoha would beg to differ.
Boing!
Boing!
Boing!
Boing!
Sakura's breasts didn't actually make those noises. More of a 'realistic' plap plap plap really. But if there was ever a fat set of knockers capable of making cartoon sounds effects with every ridiculous bounce, it was hers.
Every step she took jiggled her monstrous milkers. Barely contained by her skimpy bikini, they shimmied like water balloons on the moon. Sometimes in the same up and down motion. Sometimes in opposite directions. Or even the occasional left and right jiggle. Every strutting step she took shook them like jello. The biggest molds ever conceived by man. Skindented the barest centimeter by their containment straps. Stuck in place with chakra so her nipples wouldn't slip.
Sakura did her best to stay confident. Hands on her hips, chin slightly inclined. She aimed her eyes straight ahead. Balanced on her high heeled sandals. Strutting with one foot placed precisely in front of the other. An exaggerated sexy walk which turned her shoulders at every step. Inadvertently showing off three-quarters views of her technically-not-naked knockers on both sides. Stubborn in her refusal to acknowledge the aghast villagers to her left and right. People saw her coming way, way off, and scrambled to clear the decks.
Children scattered in fear of the 'boobie monster'. Men walked square into lamp posts. Into each other. Any vertical surface they could find. Because god damn were they ever not watching where they were going. And she left an envious cloud of green among the female population. Who were quick to dope slap their male counterparts.
Sakura, for her part, kept up the act admirably. But she was full of bees on the inside. Seriously what was the big deal here? They're boobs for god's sake! Every woman has them. Everyone deals with them. She was just a little bigger than average. That's all.
But for all her insistence to contrary; there was absolutely nothing little about her gargantuan girls. And as her morning commute terrorized the town, she inadvertently caused all kinds of boob shenanigans.
The hospital's reaction was predictable. And tedious. Everybody had an opinion on her boobs. 'Oh you need to cover those up!' 'Oh you're harassing the patients!' 'Oh your poor back!' Blah blah blah blah blah. Sakura turned up her nose at their petty buzzing. Like the book had said. Let the flatties seethe! Let the men drool! It wasn't her problem.
Wednesday brought a whole new challenge though. And two jumps in bra sizes.
"M cup. 116 centimeters. 47 inches." Sakura dutifully recorded her growth. Hidden in an alcove in the hospital's hall, she tucked the little book between her breasts. They were so 'big' now, the lateral pressure of them actually held her moleskin in place. Big still wasn't the word she'd use. Voluminous, maybe, excessive almost definitely, brobdingagian too if she felt verbose. But not big. Oh no, never big.
By this point, she'd more or less hit her stride with controlling her pneumatic mammary glands. She knew how to walk to minimize their jiggle. She had hands-on experience with cleaning milk from anything stainable. And she'd even figured out how to run in the mornings without accidentally tit slapping herself. Happy day!
But after she'd figured out how to handle all these challenges; a new challenger had arisen. Her own libido. Which had swollen to immense proportions. Suddenly she felt the unbearable urge to titfuck every man she came across. As if she could smell the arousal of their cocks. Jutting at her, throbbing in heartbeat pulsations. Lured by the ridiculous gravitational pull of her new knockers.
Pai-zu-ri! Pai-zu-ri! Pai-zu-ri! Pai-zu-ri!
Cheered as if by hundreds of horny sports fans, the naughty word rang in her head. It didn't matter if she was in with a patient, or an investor, or even one of her male nurses. People whom she'd known for years and had long since stopped seeing as sex partners. Yet now all she wanted to do was shove them to the floor, rip open their pants, and stuff their hard dicks between her meteoric melons. Drown them in silky breast meat. Smother their arousal in softness. Quench their hot brands in the welcoming warmth of her bosoms. To playfully tease them as they twitched and gasped from the circularly rubs of her gigantic breasts around and around on the sides of their dicks. Strong hands clutched tight to those absurd balloons as they pounded and pounded and pounded and pounded~<3!
…What was she talking about again? Eh, whatever. Point is, her boobs were giving her a crippling paizuri fetish. And it was even worse the next day.