Braless Emily

Uggghhhh, alright, whatever. I guess I don’t want to have to see my character’s bare ass when she bends over, which was no doubt animated, and the small crop top is probably a sucker choice, at least braless she won’t have to have her midriff exposed and could theoretically hide it, not that this game would let her.

I shrug, then tap unconstrained tits, which causes my avatar’s tits to explode out and jiggle like in that one anime Josh showed me, Fairy Tale maybe? Sighing, I toss my phone back in my bag. God I’m running late, coach Chris will NOT be happy about this.

God, I just KNOW he’ll be like, “You’re supposed to be a leader, Emily! What’ll the other girls think, Emily?” I put my hand down after miming his annoying voice, then sigh, knowing I do actually have to better.

I get up, but before I take a step I realize my hands aren’t at my sides. I glance in the mirror, only to see myself TAKING OFF MY SHIRT???

Once again weights tear into my chest, ten times as strong as ever before. Fuck I gotta stop this and just GO. Why can’t I control my hands?

They feel like they’re not even a part of me, and all I can do is lean hard against the lockers, to try to stop myself, but I find my whole body now moving on it’s own accord, and I stand up straight, only to watch as I start to unhook my bra. Please no, that takes so long to fix up...

I see myself grimace as I struggle with all my might to stop my hands, desperately sending signal after signal from my brain to STOP, but nothing seems to work, and I don’t know if I’m going crazy or what the fuck is happening, but all I can do is watch as my boobs spring free and bounce wildly, seemingly growing two to three cup sizes in the process. They start to settle, my large pink nipples pointing at my face in the cold air while the bottom of my tit jiggles softly just below the bottom of my ribcage.

God I’m gross, I think, feeling tears almost coming to my eyes. Why couldn’t I just stop growing? I mean, there isn’t even any stretch marks, can I EVER get these things down?

Suddenly I realize that I can clench and unclench my hand, and can move my feet! Okay, I take a deep breather, trying to calm myself before the big match, and move the bra to my breasts.

As I get to them, my hand opens, seemingly on its own, and my bra tumbles to the floor. “damnit,” I grumble, as I yet again squat, this time to pick up my now dirty bra.

Only this time, I don’t squat, I fucking bend over and grab it quickly. Shooting up, I look around but see that I’m still alone, and thank god no one could see up my skirt. Not that it would really matter since I am wearing compression shorts, but at the same time they’re my old, skimpy pair, which definitely show off the curve of my ass and some cheek, man I gotta start doing laundry more often.

With a shake of my head, I get rid of this fugue or whatever it is. I hope anyways. The bra slides across my skin, but just before it settles I again drop it.

Wow, how can I be this clumsy yet still play tennis? The world may never know.

Before I reach down, I hear yet another ding on my phone. Which is weird, since I still have it on silent...

I go to grab it and my bra, taking special care to squat, but somehow find myself with my tits dangling in my face and my ass poking out in the air as I scramble to grab my phone and bra. Coming back up, I can feel the heaviness on my chest as my breasts swing, and sigh, then look at my phone.

On the lock screen, I see yet another notification from Gem Ladies: Having trouble? We’re truly sorry to hear it, but know that a good round could clear your mind!

Wait... no. It couldn’t be, could it?

Experimentally, I try to squat, but yet again find myself breathing into my hanging breasts. Another try or two yields similar results, and I still somehow can't get my bra anywhere close to where it's supposed to be.

After I drop my bra yet again, and bend down in a huff, I catch a glimpse of my boobs bouncing erratically in the mirror. Okay, I'm definitely going to need to wear something in case the coach comes in.

After throwing on my shirt, I raise my arms in the mirror and stare at my grimacing reflection. It's nowhere near good, what with my nipples clawing their pointy way out of the fabric and with my unconstrained boobs pushing out even farther, which of course generates even deeper cleavage.

A quick bounce confirms that yes, this would indeed be absolute hell to go play in, I do NOT want anyone to see my boobs bouncing this free. Hell, most people don't even realize how large they actually are! Besides, what kind of a slut wears a stretched performance tank top with NO BRA and the most serious case of underboob ever?

I must just be freaked out, trying too hard to get in the right headspace, and let the game influence me. Yeah, that's gotta be it. What the hell was I thinking, that some game actually hijacked my mind and body or something?

I raise my bra to my chest, keeping my shirt on, but STILL drop it before it reaches the prize.

Muttering to myself, I take a quick bounce and say, "Okay, you're just clumsy right now, just focus." But then I quickly find myself staring right between my tits, ass yet again in the air as I clutch frantically at my bra on the floor.

"Damn it!" I exclaim, then look around, seeing I'm somehow still alone. Okay, deep breath in, deep breath out. I can feel my fingers tremble as I bring up my bra, but my hands open on their own and it falls to the floor once more. And a dirtier bra there never was.

Okay, I can do this. But I do have to admit this is, well, weird. No, I'm overthinking it, just try again. Another ding and now I'm breathing out my nose and throwing my head back in frustration. But glancing at my phone, I see another notification from Gem Ladies. Checking it, I see that it reads, A thick one, are we? Or perhaps touching your toes before the match is important? Regardless, we have a limited time offer as you make those pesky punishments disappear: the next time you win, receive a bonus prize, free of charge!

Well, shit. One more attempt at bending down normally and the tit in my eyes fully convinces me that magic is somehow real, or I'm going bananas. And god, as much as I really don't want to be under the magical power of some perverted game I want to be crazy even less. And in the end, if I am crazy I might as well go with the flow, it's not like resisting has done much so far.

My phone rings, but this time it's an emergency alarm in case I'm not on the court. SHIT, what do I do?