Wrapping things up.

"Well, cutie. Our time is up." Heather kneels at your side stroking your hair. "I have to say you were amazing! You are so fucking hot. I don't know why you were wandering the halls half naked in the first place and I won't ask. This has been the best night we've had in a long time." She leans over and kisses your forehead.

You giggle. It feels nice to be complimented. "Thank you. I had a lot of fun, too."

Heather places her hands on your tits, cupping them carefully. "I must be going crazy. There's no way she was this big when she came in, right?"

You purr happily at the attention. "That feels nice."

Mark looks. "Wow, yeah, I thought they were smaller, too." He grabs one of your breasts, squeezing gently. "Damn, girl. These are flawless. Heather, they might even be better than yours."

A surge of satisfaction forces a smile to your lips. The expression feels slightly odd, like your lips have grown thicker since the last time you smiled.

Heather shakes her head. "No way. Hold on, I'll get to the bottom of this." She hops up and walks into an adjacent room, leaving you alone with Mark.

He smiles at you. "You're one hot slut, you know that?" He drapes his large flaccid cock over your face, sending a thrill of naughty satisfaction through your entire body. That thing had completely tamed you.

You giggle appreciatively. "I like your cock, Mark. I want more." You're not used to this feeling. Usually after an orgasm, you're just tired or at least content. It takes a while to get your engine running again, but not now. Your sex drive is still plenty warmed up, purring like a kitten, even after your unknown number of back to back orgasms at Mark's hand. It's an itch you just need to scratch.

Mark laughs. "Sorry. Heather wears the belt this month so she's in charge. That's how we do it."

You press out your full lips in a sexy pout. "But... cock." Your thoughts are still slightly scrambled from your experience, but you are lucid enough to realize that your sudden interest in cock is... new. You've never cared for the sight of one unless it was your own, and you've certainly never breathed deeply just to enjoy the thick, musky scent of one resting on your face. Mark's cock also smells like pussy. Your pussy, you realize with a grin.

Heather returns with a length of measuring tape, gesturing to you authoritatively. "Sit up." Her firm tone reminds you of the time you spent under her hands and you smile happily, shifting into a seated position for her. You hold your arms out while she gently wraps the tape around your chest a few different times. It tickles a little, and you purr enticingly as her fingers brush your flesh, but she's focused.

"34C." She says finally. "Well I'll be damned. That's exactly my size, too. I thought for sure you were..." her eyes wander down your body, pausing at your slightly wider hips and ass. "That red lingerie really did nothing for your figure, I guess. You're kind of stunning. Well come on, we did promise you some clothing. I think you've more than earned it. Mark, clean all this up and keep yourself hard for me. I'm coming back for that cock when I've finished with our new friend."

You stand, a little unsteady on your legs, and follow Heather deeper into the apartment. "You know, it's a shame we don't have more time to play; if you're actually my size, I have a whole bunch of very sexy things I'd love to see you in. We could have a whole photoshoot. But it's morning so you've gotta go."

Their bedroom is shockingly normal for such a wildly sexual couple. Tidy and well appointed, but uninteresting. Heather leads you to a large closet, rifling through its contents before handing you a selection. It's not what you'd have ever thought to pick for yourself, but she reminds you that beggars can't be choosers, so you put it on.

"No, no. Do it here. I want to watch." Heather says when you try to excuse yourself to the bathroom to dress. "It's not like I haven't already seen everything anyway." She grins.

You can't argue with that. Laying the clothing out on the bed, you step into the panties. They are a deep maroon color and made of a soft silky material you are entirely unfamiliar with. But it feels like heaven as is nestles up against the bare skin of your well-used pussy. "Mmmm. These are nice."

"Shh. Don't talk, just keep going." You're reminded that Heather still hasn't had a chance to get off, despite everything, and she's still really worked up. She massages her breasts as you slip your arms through the straps of the matching bra she's given you.

You struggle just a little with the clasp at your back; your experience with bras has more to do with their removal, after all, but you succeed well enough. Looking down, you're stunned at the prominent display of your tits; they look huge!

"One of my old push-up bras. I don't wear it anymore but it looks insane on you. Keep it." She grins lustfully at you, devouring you with her eyes and chewing her lip.

Besides the sexy lingerie, Heather has gifted you with a black stretchy sort of top with long sleeves that doesn't have any material around your waist, like it's only half a shirt. It hugs your chest and arms comfortably but shows off your gorgeous flat stomach and naval piercing. You wish it showed some cleavage, but you can't deny that the shape of your bust is phenomenal. It'll work.

Finally, you step into a pair of comparatively plain pants in a soft mossy green color. They hug your hips and butt really well and the legs are a relaxed fit. Super comfortable, if perhaps a little less than stylish.

Heather hands you a cheap pair of shoes. Flats, you realize with disappointment. For no reason you can fully understand, you would much rather wear heels. That's crazy. You've never worn heels in your life. But as you look at yourself in the mirror, you know you'd look better in heels. You feel a sudden urge to go shoe shopping. That thought is so weird that it makes you giggle like an idiot. "Heehee. I'm hot."

Heather laughs. "Boy, Mark really fucked you up, didn't he. You sound drunk-tired. Give me your address, sweetie. I'll take you home." Then, as if amused by her own comment, she adds, "It's a really good thing we're not the type to take advantage of a helpless, half naked bimbo like you."

Bimbo.

The word is lighting to your nervous system, a jolt of delight so strong it actually makes you moan softly and smile like a total idiot. But wait, that's not a good thing. Maybe you are really just tired. You give Heather your home address and let her walk you to her car. The whole time, you keep looking down at your mightily impressive chest in that push-up bra, cupping your breasts appreciatively.

You're definitely bigger, but if you understand the curse correctly, they're nowhere near done growing if you keep this up.

Oh shit, the curse! You'd totally forgotten. Ah, well. What's done is done, right? You'll just have to try really hard to be a good girl from now on. You mean good. Just good. This is going to be difficult.