originally been skinny and unattractive, was now a powerhouse, built with a
sculptured physique that was sure to get him all the attention and women he
desired. With an inquiry into the audience, a vote generated by each
audience member's handheld remote, they voted this man to be instantaneously
dowsed by the Change-O-Ray and...wah-laa!...he was a changed man for good.
It had been the same for the man and woman before him. They had wanted a
better sex life. The woman had desired more from her man and the audience
had voted and...wah-laa...suddenly, with a zap of the Change-O-Ray, the man
was sporting a huge pipe-sized bulge in his pants. Though the woman ended up
scoffing and stating she'd probably leave him now, it was still a successful
show.
And who knew how the Change-O-Ray really worked. Some say it was magic. Some
say it was science, the surprising combination of a matter generator mixed
with neural impulses of the person the ray was aimed at. It could only be
directed at one person at one time, and the person had to truly desire to be
changed, and...wah-laa...the "wish", as it were, was granted.
When my turn came to step out before a live audience, before the world, I
was a bit tense. My mother was against me appearing on national television
basically showcasing my...well...unique form. I had already had trouble
with...well...producers of skin magazines and sexual type movies calling me
day and night to get me out there to "showcase" my sizeable and obviously
money-makeable attributes. They were anxious to "assist" me in showing my
specialties to the wanting masses, mainly wanting to get my 92-inch
all-natural breasts on film and centerfold spread.
"Going on this ridiculous show," my mother warned, "would only enhance your
problems tenfold."
The green light went on and the backstage person who had helped get me ready
for the show waved me towards the stage. The crowd of 300 in the studio all
applauded and whistled and howled, sounded like mostly men out there, as the
emcee announced my arrival on the show.
"And here is our next guest, Helia Melonowski, a young woman with, as you
will see, the largest...and there is no other way to put this...the largest
pair of breasts in the United States and, quite possibly, in the entire
world according to the Guiness Book of World Records. Her bra size is a
whopping 46NNN with her actually breasts measure at an astounding 92-inches!
Please welcome...Helia...Melonowski!"
I stepped out onto the stage as the audience cheered and clapped and howled.
Twin spotlights shone on my big breasts and I blushed as they followed my
giant jiggling fleshbombs as I walked. My nipples were erect and making
incredibly huge dots at the end of my boobs, protruding like overripe grapes
against the material of my blue stretch top. The top was so stretched you
could see a hint of the floral pattern material of my immense and
overstuffed bra cups below the blue top.
"My gosh! Helia, Helia. Welcome to WHO WANTS TO CHANGE THEIR LOOKS," the
show's host Greg Barker said as he stood and greeted me. He offered a hand
and I offered mine and he shook it roughly, purposely forceful, making my
giant jugs bounce heavily in my top. "My goodness! Look at those things. You
won't have problems breastfeeding infants when the time comes, will you?"
I opened my mouth to respond and was drowned out by the audience howling
with laughter.
"Sit down, Helia," Greg said as he offered me a chair next to the desk he
sat at. His eyes were glued to my chest. Suddenly the chair in which I sat
began to rumble and vibrate, vibrate so that it made my huge boobs wobble
and quake quite heavily in my top. "Oops. We'll turn off the Vibro-Seat."
Greg said with a sly wink to the audience and cameras.
The audience laughed and hooted some more.
I adjusted myself in the seat that seemed a bit small for even a normal
sized person. I figured they must make the chairs small so they can pack
more people on the stage that was actually quite small compared to what the
TV viewer suspects. I kind of sat there scrunched up, my huge boobs resting
on my lap that they did typically anyway.
"Hello. How are you?" Greg said still looking at my boobs.
"My boobs don't talk," I said to him. "But I am doing fine."
The audience laughed and clapped.
"So, gosh, the first question I am sure everyone asks you is...what's it
like to have such huge breasts?" Greg said as he looked at me for a second,
then his eyes dropped back to my breasts.
"Well, I guess I have gotten used to being so big so don't much think about
it anymore. Sometimes having such big breasts is a problem and
sometimes...well...I just don't know. I actually, I guess, don't have a
problem with being this big." I answered him.
"We have some footage of how problematic those big things are." Greg said as
the lights in the studio drew low and a big screen behind us lit up.
"Terrence, roll the tape."
I again blushed as a movie of me, obviously taped earlier and without my
knowledge, showed me getting caught in the studio entrance, in the revolving
door. The thing was small and my boobs actually got pinched in the door and
they needed three big security guards to wrestle me out. The next scene was
me in the dressing room and two technicians struggling to help me get my bra
on, one pulling the straps together as the other hooked the ten-hook
contraption. I told them I could do it but they insisted, obviously knowing
I would be taped. Another short clip showed me mashing my breasts in the
face of a guy, who I embarrassedly realized was my father's best friend and
that they all would be watching. The clip (again, who knows how they got it
or who did it) showed me mashing my boobs in the guy's face, then the next
shot was him with dual black eyes and a fat lip yet a big smile on his face.
Still photographs flashed on the screen also, stills of me in a rather huge
and hideous bikini, in my immense-sized bra and panties (my boobs were so
big and heavy they partially obscured my pantied lower quarters). They also
showed some movie footage from me at my favorite local night spot, dancing
with about a half dozen guys who were all feeling me up, ogling my giant
tits as I danced and laughed and showed I was obviously enjoying myself and
the attention my huge boobs received.
I didn't know where they got the still photos or the bar footage.
"Well, it looks like those beauts can be a problem and, like you say, you
don't seem to mind," Greg said as the screen blinked out and the lights came
back up. I was blushing like a big red beet.
"Helia is here today because she wishes to be smaller in size in the bust
department," Greg said as he read off a cue card. "A smaller 42D or E-cup
size is what you are asking for. And what would you do with a smaller bust
size, dear Helia."
"Probably not get stuck in doorways," I said and the audience laughed.
"And what if you couldn't have your wish and, say, your breasts would never
be smaller," Greg asked.
"Well, this is concern from my doctor that, speaking of having babies, if I
do have children my breasts could become even larger, possibly excessively
more larger. That is at least one thing," I said nervously wondering what
the audience would vote.
"Honey, I got to say, excessively larger...those things are already
excessively LARGE," Greg said and the crowd laughed and howled. "And, gosh,
imagine even bigger milk-engorged breasts. My my my."
"Have the fat broad show us her tits!" someone in the audience yelled.
I wasn't fat and I looked out into the studio audience to give the guy an
evil look. Unfortunately I couldn't see the faces in the crowd due to the
bright stage lights.
"Obviously the crowd grows anxious to vote. So let's not delay and get right
down to it," Greg said as he turned to the audience and TV cameras.
"This is Helia Melonowski. She has a 92-inch bust. She seems to like them
but wishes for smaller, more manageable breasts. Audience, it is your turn
to vote. Does Helia get smaller breasts? Your votes will be tallied and fed
directly to the Change-O-Ray and, in a moment, we will all see if Helia gets
what she truly deep down wants." Greg said as the audience settled down and
you could hear the clicks of voting buttons on remotes being pressed.
>>From the ceiling a large dome lowered, lowered directly over the area in
which I sat. I had seen it when the one guy got the muscles and the other
guy got the big cock.
"Okay. The votes are all in," Greg said as a little light on the side of the
dome went from red to yellow. "Okay, Helia, here we go."
The little light went from yellow to green and I could detect a faint hum
from the dome. I felt my skin prickle, tingle. The feeling went from my head
down to my toes.
"Okay, a minuscule 12% of the people voted for you to have smaller breasts,"
Greg said as he read the print out that popped from his desk. "While, my
word, a whopping 88% of the audience voted that..."
I felt a strange pressure in my chest. I actually felt my huge boobs start
to wobble as if taking on a life of their own...and I was sitting still! My
big nipples felt on fire.
"88% of the people want you to have breasts full passed the 100-inch mark
and full of MILK!" Greg announced.
"Oh no no noooo!" I exclaimed as the pressure within my breasts came to a
head, well...came to my tits is more like it...and I placed my hands over my
bulging boobs and cried out as they pushed forward, swelled, ballooned,
grew, fattened, began to gain more weight and more girth. They weren't only
growing but also, much to my surprise, becoming increasingly full with what
I could only figure was a ton of milk.
"Yes, Helia, the audience has voted and you not only get to keep the
enormous knockers you seem to love, but also get to be several times bigger
with them gorged full of mother's milk ta boot." Greg said with a whistle as
he watched my tits expand right in front of him.
"No! Wait! This…isn't…what…I…wanted!" I huffed as I tried to contain my
swelling boobs. It had always been impossible to even cradle my huge boobs
and now, with them rapidly increasing in size and becoming even larger, it
was an effort in futility. They pushed out from under my arms, expanded out
on the sides, pushing my top, stretching it further and further.
"Ugh!" I gasped as my bra, able to compensate for a little extra flesh, got
to its extended size limit. The straps dug into my shoulders and back. I
could feel the hook poking into my flesh.
"Looks like your big ole 46NNN is really struggling. It really must be
saying NNNnnn trying to hold that massive breasts back," Greg said as the
microphone picked up fabric tearing, both my overstuffed bra and
overstretched blue top. The sound reverberated through the studio and the
crowd cheered and clapped.
"And, well, that ole bra has to give up the ghost because you, Helia, were
our special-picked guest for tonight's show where we open the voting lines
to America's viewers," Greg said with a wide smile. "And the viewer's who
voted at home and also agreed YOU, Miss Melonowski, should have even larger
tummy-slappers!"
I felt another jolt, another wave of pressure surge through my chest. My bra
blew beneath my top, freeing my ballooning breasts. They bulged obscenely in
my top and pushed it to its final breaking point. My top shredded at the
side seams and parted as my huge, now-naked boobs spilled out for all to
see. The swelling giants flowed over my lap, over my knees, heavy,
oh-so-heavy, pulling me out of my seat.
"Hmm, can you imagine folks, resting on top of those roly-poly soft
mattresses?" Greg said as I struggled, now lying atop my growing boobs. I
couldn't see them but I could feel my nipples, that I had no idea how big
they were now, were squirting warm liquid. I could feel the dampness
underneath me, then noticed the wood floor of the stage gleaming with a
whitish liquid. I was milking!
"Stop! Please stop! They are getting too big! I can't…take much more! I feel
like…ungh…they feel ready to explode!" I cried as I was now lying sprawled
out across my titanic-sized breasts that continued to expand and swell
across the stage. My left breast expanded and nudged Mr. Barker's desk and
he was suddenly getting out of the way as the chairs and the desk were
pushed aside.
"Wow! The voters really want you LARGE!" Greg said as he, with microphone,
moved around in front of me. The spotlights shone now partially into the
audience, staying on my ballooning breasts.
"Plee-ease! Turn the Change-O-Ray off! I am getting too BIG!"
The people, all guys as if I shouldn't have expected anything different, in
the front two rows cleared out as my tits enlarged, spread into and against
their chairs. I grew larger and larger, rising up and up. Soon more rows
were cleared…and I get getting bigger and bigger.
"Please! I am going to burst!" I cried but then, with one rapid surge of my
swelling milk-engorged colossal breasts, my cry was muffled as my
breastflesh mashed against my face. My butt hit the ceiling and I felt all
four walls of the studio pinching my breasts in. "Mmmmfff..oh
please…too…big…"
A few minutes later, as I lay there pinned between my massive boobs and the
ceiling of the television studio, someone opened the skylight that was a few
feet from my head. I breathed in cool fresh air. A guy appeared near the
open skylight and dropped a little television monitor down so I could view
it.
I gasped.
There on the screen was a view of the outside of the television studio.
Outside doors and windows were open and bulging from the openings were
bulges of taut pink flesh, MY FLESH! MY GIANT BREASTFLESH!
Greg Barker appeared on the screen, smiling at the camera and the viewers.
"Good night, folks. And stop by if you need a glass of milk before bed."
END