Pull Out

I mooed. Why did I moo? Lois was confused, and blushed furiously. She had made noises during sex before...moans, grunts, sometimes little chipmunk-like squeaks...but never a moo. Where did that come from?

The hands kneading and pulling at her breasts let them fall. They felt heavier than ever. Lois was actually a little nervous. Exactly how big am I?

"All right, dear." The nurse called out from behind the screen. "You can remove yourself now."

Maria stopped her massage, and backed up to allow Lois to pull herself free. Before, she had pressed her chest against the cutouts in the metal screen, now... Lois watched her breasts emerge with something like wonder.

"Don't be afraid to dream a little bigger," Lois muttered, echoing the nurse's words. Her pert handfuls had swollen and sagged, hanging low on her chest, flattening and spreading out. Bigger than on any pregnant women that Lois had seen...and the thought flashed through her head: that's exactly what they look like. The saggy, swollen tits on a woman that was pregnant. The reporter lifted her right breast, slimy with ointment, in one hand, and it overflowed her fingers. It was heavy...and, giving it a slight squeeze, a bit sore too.

And my nipples! Lois noticed with alarm. The former pink eraser nubs were now huge, easily as wide as her thumb, and had darkened to an olive brown, the puffy areola surrounded by odd little bumps, almost looking inflamed.

Still...it wasn't so bad. Even without a bra, I have an enviable rack. Lois noted. Bigger than either of them. Thinking of Maria and the nurse. With a bra, I'd have some serious cleavage going...or if I strapped them down with a binder, I could probably pass as not having had an augmentation at all.

"You've responded very well to the first parts of the treatment," the nurse's voice was soothing as he stepped back into view. "The screen allows the augmentation to be localized...and your breasts should continue to grow and fill out a bit. However, we now need to get the excess material out of you, so that it doesn't cause further changes."

The nurse took Lois' hand to led her out of the room...and to Lois' surprise, she found herself mutely accepting the nurse's direction.

I should...be more upset about this. I AM upset about this. Why am I...not complaining? The reporter wondered. It's the role, she told herself. I have to act like I want this. Get deeper into their operation. But deep inside, Lois was concerned that she wasn't fighting this.

"Further...changes?" Lois managed to get the words out in the hallway.

"Growth of body hair, osseous formation on the skull, occasional behavioral issues, the growth of additional nipples..." The nurse reached up and patted Lois on the head. "You don't worry about any of that dear." She guided Lois into the next room.

There was a metal frame, about a meter at a side, bolted into place against a wall with a television screen inset. A series of tubes ending in cups ran from a bank of stainless steel tanks and equipment off to one side. The bottom of the tank was padded, and there were straps hanging from the top of the frame.

"Now dear, let's get you hooked up and pump all that stuff out of you." The nurse guided Lois, who didn't even think to resist, toward the contraption. "Before it's too late..."