Bust check

The bedroom door creaked open.

Panty sauntered in, stretching with an exaggerated yawn as if she hadn’t just been tongue-deep in a “pop quiz” seconds earlier. Her stolen schoolgirl outfit — Stocking’s old uniform — barely clung to her curvier form, and her new J-cup bust bounced with every step like they had their own physics engine.

Kuromi peeked out from a pile of plushies, perched like a devilish gargoyle.

“Welcome back, sweet girls. I trust you've been… studying hard?” she chimed with syrupy fake-innocence.

Panty plopped onto the bed beside Brief and rolled her eyes, batting her lashes like a guilty child. “We were just practicing for school. Super wholesome stuff.”

“Hands-on learning builds the best memory.”

Stocking had just stepped out of her closet with a fresh towel in hand, planning to wipe off leftover cake crumbs. Her eyes landed on Panty.

Then dropped to Panty’s chest.

Then stayed there.

Her jaw tightened.

“…What the hell is that supposed to be?” she asked flatly, motioning to Panty’s chest with a pointed glare.

Panty blinked, playing innocent to perfection. “What, these?” She gave a casual bounce for emphasis — which turned into a seismic wobble. “Girl, I’ve always had these. You just never paid attention.”

Stocking looked genuinely offended. “No. You were a very confident, moderately stacked hussy. That—” she pointed again, waving the towel like a sword, “—is not moderate. That’s obscene. That’s anime logic.”

Panty crossed her arms (or at least tried — her boobs nearly swallowed her forearms), frowning. “Wow, sorry I’m not a spreadsheet, Miss Numbers. Some of us bloom later in life. It’s called natural development.”

Brief, sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, tried to disappear into a plushie.

“Hormones are mysterious,” Kuromi offered helpfully. “So is magical augmentation, but who’s counting?”

Panty raised an eyebrow. “You saying something, Kuromi?”

“Just admiring how well you’ve... filled in the uniform.”

Stocking squinted. “Wait—my uniform?”

Panty smirked. “Relax. It was just hanging there. I needed something conservative to wear.”

She struck a pose — shoulders back, chest forward, angelic grin on full blast.

Stocking looked ready to explode. “You’re stretching the seams so hard the stitching’s filing for worker’s comp!”

Brief, who had been quietly scooting toward the door in hopes of escaping this estrogen-fueled fever dream, froze mid-step.

Panty smirked at Stocking and sat up straighter, which made her breasts shift dangerously. “What’s the matter? Jealous?”

“I’m skeptical,” Stocking shot back. “Either you stuffed those with marshmallows, or you’re using dark magic. No way are those things legit.”

Panty gasped, mock-offended. “How dare you! These are 100% USDA-certified Panty Prime. You want proof?”

Before Stocking could yell “No,” Kuromi interjected again:

“There is only one way to settle this… empirical evidence.”

Brief groaned softly.

Stocking turned to him.

Panty turned to him.

Kuromi’s stitched mouth remained still… but Brief could feel her looking at him.

He slumped against the wall, eyes wide. “Oh no. No. No. Nope. I am not getting involved in—”

Stocking cut him off. “Brief, get the measuring tape.”

He whimpered. “I just wanted cake…”

Stocking leaned in close, arms crossed tightly under her own already generous bust, but her eyes were locked in deadly suspicion.

“Okay, there's no way your dumb cow tits grew overnight,” she huffed, her pink-and-purple eyes narrowing. “This is like, a whole alphabetical jump! You were a C, at best!”

Panty smirked and gave one boob a proud bounce with her hand. “Jealousy is so cute on you, Stocking. You’ve always had boob envy~”

Stocking scoffed and turned to Brief, grabbing his sleeve like an impatient scientist demanding a lab assistant. “Brief. Tape measure. We’re verifying this.”

“W-What?!” he squeaked, suddenly part of the experiment.

Panty grinned wide. “Ooooh~ You wanna measure me, huh? Should I raise my arms for accuracy, or do you need me to jiggle into place first?” She bounced for emphasis — comedically exaggerated, like an anime physics engine lost its mind.

“Measurement must be exact. Pressure applied during compression may affect surface area. Use both hands.” chimed Kuromi from the bed, voice sugary and sinister.

Brief was shaking. “I-I don’t have a tape measure!!”

Stocking already had her bag open. “I do. Goth girls are always prepared for drama and lying sluts.”

Panty gasped, mock offended. “How dare you!”

“I dare easily,” Stocking growled, holding up a pink tape measure like a weapon. “Strip.”

Panty didn’t hesitate. In a single dramatic motion, she peeled her borrowed too-tight top off — her comically massive new rack wobbling like twin water balloons trapped in a simulation.

Brief’s soul momentarily left his body.

Panty looked at him. “Better catch my bust size fast, nerd. The gravitational pull might knock you out.”

“Th-they have… moons…” Brief whispered.

“Get to work, Assistant. Boob science waits for no man.” Kuromi added.

Stocking huffed and took the measure to Panty’s underbust first, muttering under her breath. Then she shoved it up to her full bustline.

The tape stretched. And kept stretching.

And kept stretching.

“...J,” she deadpanned.

“I told you!” Panty cheered, clapping her hands — which only made her chest bounce harder. “J for Juicy Jackpot Jugs!”

“Confirmed. Proceed with touch-based verification.”

“Excuse me?” Stocking blinked.

Panty held out her arms. “You heard the demon plush. C’mon, verify all you want, babe~”

Brief sat there, entirely forgotten, nosebleed threatening.

Stocking looked at Kuromi, then at Panty’s smug grin.

Then she lunged.

Stocking’s hands landed with a dramatic SMACK on Panty’s ridiculous new rack — and immediately sank in like she’d slapped two oversized waterbeds. Her fingers twitched. There was give. There was bounce. There was jiggle.

And there was betrayal.

“This is disgusting,” Stocking muttered, voice strained as her hands involuntarily molded to the obscene softness. “They’re real.”

Panty preened like a cat stretching in a sunbeam. “Told you. So, how do they compare to yours~?”

Stocking growled, pressing her hands deeper in the middle, forcing Panty’s breasts together in an absurd valley of cleavage that made Brief nearly faint.

“I feel like I’m holding bags of pudding in a zero-G hentai,” she snapped.

“Consistency: 10/10. Yield: eternal. Comparison to tester's own results: inconclusive. Further hands-on research required.” Kuromi added helpfully, her voice echoing from somewhere near the pillows.

Panty leaned forward just a little — which had the effect of flopping her boobs over Stocking’s hands and half her forearms.

“You could always measure them against yours, Professor~”

Stocking yanked her hands back like she’d been burned. “I’m not pressing boobs with you, you deranged cow!”

“Only through controlled exposure can true scientific breakthroughs emerge.” Kuromi whispered like a seductive little devil.

Brief was trying to sink into the mattress. “I-I think I’m gonna die.”

Panty sat back up and leaned on her hands, chest puffed proudly, her breasts practically laying across her lap. “C’mon, Professor Stocking. Round 2. Compare notes. Graph results. Touch mine, touch yours. For science~”

“I will slap you,” Stocking muttered.

“Is that your form of peer review?” Panty laughed, then turned to Brief. “Okay, nerd. What’s the ruling? Which one of us has the best bust?”

“I—uh—” Brief tried to hide behind a pillow.

Panty grinned. “Come on~ I’ll even let you bounce-test them next time.”

“NO ONE’S BOUNCING ANYONE!” Stocking barked.

“Time for blindfolded sample tests?” Kuromi chirped innocently.

“NO!”

Panty just giggled and crossed her arms, which only lifted her boobs more. “Someone’s afraid of the truth~”

Stocking, still clearly trying to hold onto her last scraps of sanity, stormed to her desk drawer and yanked it open with purpose. Out came a pink tape measure — soft, flexible, and doomed.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “We’re putting numbers on this freakish inflation.”

Panty rolled her eyes and flopped backward on the bed, her massive chest wobbling like two overinflated balloons in slow motion. “Ugh, I’m not measuring myself. That’s totally biased. We need someone objective~”

All eyes turned.

Brief froze like a squirrel in a minefield.

“...Me?”

Panty gave him a slow, devilish grin. “C’mon, nerd. I won’t bite… unless you mess up.”

Stocking tossed the measuring tape at him with the grace of someone hurling a cursed relic. “Do it before I change my mind and stake her like a vampire.”

Brief swallowed hard. This was it. His personal hell.

He stepped forward, tape measure trembling in his fingers. Panty, still lounging with her arms behind her head, arched her back. It made her absurdly large breasts jut upward like an obstacle course designed by perverts.

“Just… around the fullest part,” Stocking said, pretending to read a nonexistent manual. “If you get a nosebleed, I’m stabbing you.”

Brief leaned down, trembling as he reached the ends of the tape behind her back.

Panty’s eyes sparkled. “Wow, nerd… your hands are really cold. Are you trying to give me tit-frostbite?”

“S-sorry!”

He tried again — this time her boob bounced as he adjusted the tape, smacking his wrist.

“Whoa, that one’s got a mind of its own~” Panty laughed.

Then the tape slipped.

Brief panicked, tried to catch it, and his palm accidentally pressed straight into the side of her breast.

She blinked slowly. “...You know, usually dinner comes first.”

“I—THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT!”

“Do accidents count if they happen three times in one minute?” Kuromi mused from the pillow pile.

Stocking was pretending to glare, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Keep going. We need a number.”

Brief bent again. Somehow the tape had wrapped around his wrist and her boob in a perfect spiral. He tried to unwind it, but Panty sat up at the same time — bringing her chest directly into his face like a soft, warm airbag of doom.

“Ghh—!”

“D'awww, is the nerd getting lost in the numbers~?” she cooed, bouncing her chest slightly against him just to be mean.

Eventually — after five more false starts, two faceplants, and a short tangle in which Brief was pretty sure he saw the afterlife — the tape settled in place.

He read the number aloud, voice cracking.

“...J-cup.”

Panty grinned like a cat in heat. “Well, well~ I’m officially… academically stacked.”

“Next subject: hands-on geometry?” Kuromi offered.

Stocking facepalmed hard. “We’re going to jail.”

Great! Here's the next part of the scene:

Panty arched her back, resting her hands behind her head and puffing her chest proudly.

“Okay, nerd. Now that we’ve got the numbers—time for the tiebreaker.”

Brief blinked. “Tiebreaker?”

Stocking narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms under her chest, which only made her impressive bust press together even tighter. “Yeah. Numbers only tell you so much.” She shot a glance at Panty. “What matters is feel.”

“I-it what now?”

Kuromi’s voice chimed in sweetly from the corner:

“Only an experienced touch can tell true quality. Proceed with the examination, Brief.”

“Examination?!” Brief yelped.

Panty giggled, scooting closer. “C’mon, loser. Doctor’s orders~”

She leaned in, her breath warm against his cheek. “Be honest. Which one of us is squishier? Firmer? More… memorable~?”

Brief gulped so hard it was audible. His eyes darted between the two girls. This was madness. They couldn’t possibly be serious—

Stocking huffed. “Well, if you’re gonna make it weird, just get it over with. I’ll even go first.”

She turned her body slightly, presenting her chest with dramatic indifference, as if this was all just part of some bizarre medical exam.

Brief’s shaking hands hovered in the air like he was defusing a bomb. Then, with eyes squeezed shut and a silent apology to the universe, he placed his palms gently—

Soft.

Too soft.

Like warm velvet wrapped around a pair of water balloons, impossibly full yet somehow still springy.

Stocking raised an eyebrow. “What, did your hands die halfway through?”

Panty cackled. “He’s in shock~ You broke him already!”

Brief jerked his hands back, stammering, “I-I can’t do this, I can’t—”

“Next subject.” Kuromi announced.

“Data is incomplete without comparing both samples.”

Panty wasted no time. She grabbed Brief’s wrists and guided them straight to her chest like she was tossing him into the deep end.

Brief landed face-first into two new problems.

They were heavier. Ridiculously so. Like two plush wrecking balls wrapped in skin-soft satin. His fingers accidentally sank into them and didn’t immediately recover.

Panty moaned dramatically. “Oooooh~ Doctor Brief, you’ll have to pay for that if your hands linger too long~”

Stocking made a **** noise from the side, not sure if she was horrified or jealous.

“Seriously? You’re just letting him fondle you like that?”

Panty shrugged, still holding Brief’s red, steaming face against her bust. “Well, I can’t see him complaining.”

Kuromi’s voice added with smug cheer:

“Test concluded. Subject Brief is now clinically unfit to function.”

Brief, shaking, peeled his face out of the cleavage trap and collapsed backwards into the pillows, groaning in a daze. “I-I can’t feel my arms…”

The argument escalated quickly.

“I’m obviously the winner!” Panty snapped, thrusting her chest forward like it was a trophy. “Mine are rounder, softer, and they didn’t need a measuring tape to prove it.”

“You cheated, you blow-up doll!” Stocking growled, grabbing the tape measure and snapping it taut between her hands like a whip. “You inflated those cow udders with black magic or hormones or something!”

Panty gasped. “How dare you! These are natural J-cups!”

Brief sat on the floor, still dazed, watching as the two girls leaned closer and closer, snarling, their breasts jostling like twin wrecking balls on a collision course. The tension was thick. The air crackled. A punch could’ve landed at any moment.

Instead—

“Make out already.”

Kuromi’s flat, smug voice sliced through the room.

Brief blinked. “Wait… don’t you mean ‘make up already’?”

But the correction was useless. Too late.

Stocking and Panty both froze, then slowly turned to look at each other.

Then—

Boom.

Panty tackled Stocking into the bed, their breasts pancaking together as their mouths met in a sudden, intense, messy kiss. Stocking let out a muffled gasp, only to double down and kiss back harder.

Brief let out a noise that might have been a scream or a whimper. “W-what is happening?!”

Panty, somehow multitasking mid-kiss, pulled Stocking closer by the waist while her free hand flipped off Brief blindly. Stocking climbed on top, pushing Panty deeper into the mattress, groaning into the kiss as her thigh slid up—

Two heavenly goth angels entangled in a full makeout session, their plush bodies writhing and tangled together on the bed, moaning softly between kisses like he wasn’t even there.

It was too much.

His face went bright red. His ears buzzed. He felt like his soul was trying to eject from his body.

“I—I need water—or CPR—or an exorcism!!”

In a flurry of clumsy motion, Brief stumbled to his feet, bumped into the dresser, kicked over a pillow pile, and finally flung himself through the bedroom door like a man escaping a burning building.

He bolted into the living room, slamming the door behind him and collapsing onto the couch, clutching his chest like he’d just run a marathon.

“What the hell was that?!” he whispered to himself, face buried in a cushion.