A week of repetition

The following day Maria once again woke horny, preparing herself once again to climb out of bed and put on her bra she found, checking with certainty that her bra was too tight to fit around her breasts. A quick examination revealed to her some certainty in the matter, her breasts had shot up a cup size or so since she'd arrived.

She was left little time to wonder about it though, discarding her bra as she set out to breakfast, which was another similarly filling meal with a glass of milk.

And once again her day was filled with busy work, that took her around the farm, but not too close to the barn.

The cycle repeated, each day her waking usually hardly noticing the increase in her breast size, a little conversation with Romulus or Wynn at breakfast before setting out to do work.

It wasn't until she'd been at the farm a full seven days that she truly noticed how much bigger her breasts had gotten, if only because they'd begin to be clear even under her top. She'd started her time at the farm with A cup breasts, and within a week she was at a C cups.

Hints of suspicion began to cloud her mind. Perhaps her unique biology was reacting to something in this world, or perhaps it was intentional on the part of her hosts. Was the fact she never had quite enough time to masturbate intentional as well? Her failure to have ever entered the barn?

The suspicion sat stewing for a moment, a vibrant uncertainty that she couldn't quite trust as she worked. Of course there were different ways she could go about it.