Hey you know what's fun? Fucking with retail employees

Morgan and you have no trouble checking in at the local medical center for her appointment, and it's not too long before she's following a nurse into an examination room, leaving you alone in the waiting area with your thoughts. You're not entirely sure how to feel about this whole situation. Morgan, for her part, seems happy enough to have tits that would be large on a woman twice her size. Still, you can't help but feel a little guilty. It's a betrayal of her trust to modify her body like this without her consent, even if it was accidental.

That said, you're not exactly disappointed with the results. You can't deny that the contrast between her otherwise tight body and her new breasts is attractive, in a novel sort of way. You're not really a breast man per se; you more prefer a girl with the "total package", as it were. And if you're being perfectly honest with yourself, Morgan had already ticked all your requisite boxes. Her new funbags are just icing on the (black velvet) cake. It's really more her attitude and goth style that attracted you to her in the first place; you've always been into girls who were a little outside the norms of what would be considered classically feminine. And maybe it was that attraction to the unusual that made you enjoy her new sweater stretchers. Quite simply, you've never seen a woman with the combination of a tight petite frame and over sized party melons like this before, assuming there even are women shaped like Morgan that aren't stuffed up to their eyeballs with silicone.

Not that it's all fun and games right now in titty town. She's currently being examined by a medical professional. Part of you can't help but worry about how her doctor is going to react to her sudden growth spurt; assuming the doctor found a mundane explanation for her changes, that still means they're probably going to want to run some tests on Morgan to be safe. Is there a genetic condition that causes sudden overnight breast development? A quick Google search answers that, but the answer isn't particularly satisfying. Apparently, breast hypertrophy can cause growth of several cup sizes over a few days, but that level of sudden growth is most common at the onset of puberty. And the photos you've found of the condition sure as shit aren't the kind of firm, gravity defying breasts that Morgan has.

Eventually, you give up the avenues of research and switch over to the Affection Multiplier. It's too late to worry about at this point; Morgan now has the kind of tits that cause traffic jams. What's done is done. You've made your extremely pillowy bed, and now you're just going to have to lie in it. Which honestly sounds pretty comfortable.

The first thing the app shows you, unsurprisingly, is a notification. You swipe it away without thinking, but still have the time to notice a Congratulations! on the screen before the thing is gone. Shit, you probably should have read that if it was another achievement. Oh well. You quickly navigate to Morgan's profile:

Lilian Morgan Lochridge - Age 19

Occupation - Courtesy Clerk/Student

Relationship - Single?

Likes - Rainy Days, Gothic Fashion, Tarot, Medieval Weaponry, Video Games, Jason Alejandro Ramirez

Dislikes - ****, Bigotry, Preachy People, Hot Weather, Shitty Customers

Affection: 84 (Often Thinks of You Fondly)

Love: 38 (Wants to Be Your Girlfriend)

Lust: 73 (Still Horny, Getting Hornier)

Wants - Get a Bra That Actually Fits, See What Jason's Got Below the Belt, Get My Own Goddamn Car

Recent Interactions:

Affection Gained: Morgan +3 (Free ride)

Love Gained: Morgan +2 (What a dork, but at least he's cute)

Lust Gained: Morgan +3 (Showing myself off is a turn on)

Okay, that's some new information to process. You take a moment to work through it. She's added you to her list of likes, she's pretty fucking horny, and she wants to see your dick. All incredible news, obviously.

Briefly, you consider checking out her gem store, but ultimately resist the temptation. As much as you'd love to see what exactly you could buy for her, it would still feel like a breach of her trust to do something like that at this point.

In any case, it isn't long before she's walking back into the waiting room. Now that you get a good look at her for the second time today, her size is obvious even through the hoody she has on. How the fuck did you ever think she could pull that off with padding? She strides up to you, and it's hard to read the expression on her face. Something like annoyance?

"So how'd it go?" you ask as innocently as you can as the two of you begin to walk out of the clinic and back to your car.

"Fucking bullshit," she spits out. "Doc wants to do bloodwork, make sure everything's kosher. They want me to fast for twelve hours before I come in."

"Well, that's not so bad, right?"

"It's a fucking hassle is what it is," she responds. "Plus, Doc says I might have some bullshit medical condition. Hypertrophy." She snorts. "She said it makes you grow giant tits," she continues, gesturing to her chest. "As if I couldn't figure that shit out."

"Well, hopefully it's not a sign of anything bad."

She shrugs. "Probably not. Most girls who get it end up going under the knife, getting reductions."

"Think you'll have to?"

"Fuck, I hope not. They haven't grown since yesterday, so Doc says they've probably topped out." She stops as the two of you get to your car, and turns to you. "Hey, can you do me a solid?"

"What's up?"

"Well, I know we were just there the other day, but can we go to the mall? I know your shift starts in a few hours, but I wasn't joking when I said I needed to go bra shopping."

You laugh, and then nod. "Yeah, sure. No prob." After the two of you get in the car, you can't help but add to it. "On one condition. You gotta model for me, alright?"

She gives you her wry smile. "Fuck, and here I wanted it to be a surprise," she replies deadpan.

Well. Based on Morgan's sense of humor, that's probably a fifty fifty shot of her actually doing it.

And you like those odds.

Of course, once the two of you got to the underwear store proper, you begin having second thoughts. After all, you're in a fancy women's underwear store, and you're the only guy in the place. You resolve to do the classic "guy in the ladies section" maneuver; you keep your eyes forward, and don't look at anything on the walls. You desperately try to not make eye contact with any of the employees. And for gods sake, you must keep that monster in your pants suppressed.

Of course, the first thing Morgan does once you're in the store is make a beeline for an employee, with you trailing behind her in "uncomfortable boyfriend" mode.

"Hey, I need some help with sizing," she asks nonchalantly to the back of the tiny floor rep, who gives a surprised squeak as she wheels around to find herself face to tits with Morgan. She's got her long blonde hair back in a ponytail, she's wearing simple working clothes, and she'd maybe crest five feet tall if she was wearing heels. At 5'6", Morgan doesn't really tower over anyone, but if she could, it'd be this girl. Her body honestly might have looked similar to Morgan's, sans the recent additions, but much like the Bailey's uniform, her clothes aren't doing her any favors.

She backs up a little in surprise, but quickly regains her composure. "Oh, right! Sure, yeah!" Her voice is pretty high pitched, definitely fitting the kind of person who squeaks in surprise. But once she takes a second look at Morgan's chest, she seems a bit confused. "Umm... do you know what size you might be?"

"Nah," she says dismissively. "Had a recent growth spurt."

The rep nods knowingly. Based on her reaction, you'd assume it's not that uncommon. Hell, she'd know right? Working in a bra shop and all. "What size did you use to wear?"

"28A," she answers nonchalantly.

"28... A?" the rep replies, as though she may have misheard.

"Yeah, I wasn't joking about the growth spurt," she continues, now sporting her usual wry smile. It's obvious that she's enjoying the sales girl's reaction.

The rep looks over to you for confirmation, the shock evident on her face.

"She has a medical condition," you casually provide. The rep still doesn't look convinced, but quickly perks back up.

"Well, my name is Becky, and I'll be glad to assist you today. If you want, we can grab a dressing room and I'll measure you."

Smile firmly in place, Morgan gives a dismissive wave. "Nah, there's no one else in the store right now. You can measure me over my shirt, I'm not wearing a bra."

Again, poor Becky looks to you, hoping you'll provide the answer.

"Don't look at me, she's the one with the tits," you answer her deadpan, copying Morgan's tactics. Sure enough, Morgan sputters out a surprised laugh and smacks you on the arm again, as Becky looks away in embarrassment. This sales girl is surprisingly easy to fluster for someone working in an underwear store.

"You're a fucking dick," Morgan finally gets out once she's done laughing. Score one for Jason!

"What do you mean, you don't have anything in my size?" Morgan asks Becky incredulously from inside the dressing room. To your disappointment, Morgan was actually joking. The dressing rooms, surprisingly, are actual rooms with proper doors, no doors with two feet of clearance from the floor to discourage theft. But considering you're standing right outside trying to look nonchalant, you can hear their conversation easily regardless.

"Well, you're... you're not on my sizing chart!" Becky shouts back.

"It's not that fucking hard, Becky," Morgan shoots back. "You take the under bust, you take the bust, and you split the difference. They're in alphabetical order!"

"Y-you're larger than anything we've got!" Becky responds, standing her ground. "We have a 40 band that goes up to H, and our smallest band only goes up to F!"

"Ugh!" Morgan replies. "Alright, fine, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a bitch about it."

"N-no, no, it's fine, I'm just not used to this... situation. How about I grab a 30G for you? We'll see how it fits, and go from there? I can order something larger once we have an idea."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Morgan answers. A moment later, Becky darts out of the room, and back onto the sales floor.

"I'm so sorry," she mouths at you as she hurries to grab the aforementioned garment.

You let a moment pass, before asking "You okay in there?" through the door.

"Yeah, just fucking pissed," Morgan replies. "I'm probably going to have to order something online, which makes this trip a fucking waste of time."

"Well, if you want to go somewhere after, I already said I don't work until six."

"Eh, fuck doing shit today. How about we just go to my place and kick back?"

"Sounds good to me," you answer as Becky comes back up with the test bra. It's pure white, white as the driven snow. Even if it did fit her, you know there's no way Morgan's going to buy it.

"I'm so sorry," Becky apologizes as she opens the door just wide enough to hand Morgan the bra, "but I've got a customer on the floor and my manager's still on break."

"It's fine," you and Morgan both answer simultaneously.

"I think I can handle this part myself," Morgan clarifies through the door.

Becky gives you both a quick thank you, and darts off back for the sales floor as you casually lean back against the wall.

You put a hand to your head. This trip was a total bust. Pun not intended. You're almost about to pull out your phone when Morgan speaks up from within the dressing room.

"Uh, Jason?" she says uncharacteristically meekly through the door. "I uh... I can't get the clasp."

Another moment of silence passes.

"So?" you inquire, not daring to dream of where this might be going.

"So get the fuck in here and help me!" she answers you, making that dream come true in the way only Morgan can.