[sketch,be,hyper,pos,les]
"Our story starts in the late 90's. The Iron Curtain had fallen and Yvette Seleski had a dream. She wanted to be famous, to be known as someone the world over instead of a girl lost to time in eastern Europe. However, growing up in the recovering Ukraine hardly offered opportunities for higher education and she had few physical talents to speak of. She could not sing, dance, or even act her way to stardom. However, she was brilliant and incredibly gifted with her hands. Her grandmother had taught her to play the piano, people had even praised her as a prodigy but, training, lessons, and the influence that came from them cost money. Money she did not have."
"Why are you telling me this, exactly?" Aya huffed under her breath as her tall, thin, and blonde roommate stuck her tongue out. The bus, which was empty aside from them and a couple of teenage boys upfront, hit a bump. "You've sent me the story. Multiple times."
"But you've told you never read it!" Kelly shot back. "Can I continue?"
"Whatever, I'm just here to make sure you don't get jumped going into downtown by yourself at night." Not reading it had been quite the accomplishment really. Kelly had been obsessed with urban myth since she stumbled across it on reddit. So much so the pair of sophomores were spending spring break traveling to the source or the rumor instead of anywhere else.
Not that she really had any plans. Aya was not above admitting she had been looking forward to just laying in bed and half hoping to never wake up. Quite a few people thought the sophomore's gothy presentation meant she was suicidal, especially since she was not white. To her though, the Gothic nihilism she harbored was more like a feeling that there was no reason to do anything more than survive, to endure. Trying and caring both only resulted in being hurt. It was easier to deal with disappointments when you did not invest anything.
"Anyway," Kelly said clearing her throat as she continued. "Fortunately for Yvette, the internet was a new frontier. Someone with dexterous fingers, the ability to learn dirty words and phrases, and some imagination could quickly build a following of people interested in experimenting. Within months she had built herself an online persona that could not have been further from reality. She called herself Jessica, after the busty cartoon lounge singer. She added Juggs for that American porn star feel."
Kelly kept talking as the bus trundled on. Aya half listened while looking at her phone and aimlessly browsing the web. Unbothered, her roommate faithfully chronicled how Yvette wrote about having an extreme puberty which left her tall, stacked, curvy. While the would-be internet porn star was, in reality, very tall and not exactly thin, she was hardly the bombshell she pretended to be. It did not matter to the people she talked to. All they wanted was to have an experience with a woman they would never have a chance with in the real world.
"You know, I still don't get that," Aya said looking up from her phone. "Why sex chat and not like...photos or something? I mean, sure, video like we have now wasn't a thing but, I can't imagine myself getting off while typing."
"A lot of it is stranger on a train type stuff," Kelly said with a roll of her eyes at being interrupted again. "A single passionate contact that has no consequence to the real world."
"Besides," she said fixing Aya with a side eye glance. "You spend a lot of time talking with digital people, surely you get the sensation of developing feelings for someone you've never actually met."
Aya raised an eyebrow, a slight blush showing through her light brown skin and smattering of freckles. "Sure...and I guess people looking for that feeling would be more prone to experiencing it."
"Yeah and Yvette apparently wasn't immune either. While she had started the whole affair as just a means to make money, she started to get off on the idea of being built like her persona. She wanted people to whisper behind their hands as she walked past them. She wanted to feel her over sexed body jiggling in tight clothes. Her chats become more and more about growing in all manner of ways. Soon, she was looking for a way to actually become Jessica."
"Which is what fascinates you, right? You've got that same obsession."
"I won't deny I write a lot of stories about me becoming all sorts of body types."
"Okay," Aya said, finding herself drawn into the story despite herself. "How did she plan to become this cartoon-esc bombshell then? How do you?"
"My challenges are a bit more steep. She had the advantage of looking when the holy grail was available. In the late nineties, there was a plastic surgeon working out of a clinic in Houston who was making strides with a new type of breast implant. One that would likely grow indefinitely. She got in touch with him and expressed interest. He said he had an opening. She cashed out her internet bank account for a ticket to America that day. A week later she was standing in lobby of his clinic."
"Which is where we're headed?"
"Sort of. See, the initial consult was promising. A surgery date was set. She had a week to change her mind. A week later, she was walking to the appointment when the cable of a suspended I-beam snapped over head. She had a moment to look up before everything went white."
"That's a horrible ending!"
"Only, it doesn't end there. Yvette opened her eyes a moment later and a young woman in a slightly rumpled business suit had a hand on her shoulder. She asked if Yvette was okay. The woman was flushed and a little out of breath, as if she had just done something physically taxing."
"Whew," Aya let out the breath she realized she was hoping. "Okay. So what happened? Did the woman save her?"
"I'm getting there! Yvette replied that she was okay and she was lucky to avoid such a close call. The woman agreed, saying she had not expected him to cum inside her. Yvette blinked, that was not the response she expected. She turned to point out the I-beam which had just fallen. Only, there was no metal girder, no crater. The high rise that had just been under construction was complete with people in many of the office windows. Yvette asked the woman what day it was and, when she glanced at her watch, Yvette followed her gaze. The woman's blazer was pulled tight across two perfectly round boobs. Yvette's hands absently rose to her own chest as she remembered her appointment. Conversation forgotten, she turned to walk the remaining distance to the clinic."
"So did she make it?"
Kelly shook her head. "The woman was oddly upset about being blown off. There was an altercation and Yvette fell to land face first between impossible cleavage. She reached out to push away, but her hand passed right through the other woman. Curiously, she could feel the woman's hand on her shoulder like it was her own. On a hunch, she jumped off the ground as if to tackle her apparent assailant. The next thing she knew, she was looking out of her eyes."
"So she did die..."
"Yeah..."
They were silent for a moment, the sound of bus engine filling the gap between them.
"Anyway, somehow Yvette's soul had remained here after being killed. The surprise of broke that her possession and she passed out of the woman's back to stumble on the sidewalk. The woman spun to face her. Her flush replaced with an expression of terror. She slowly backed away until she was a few feet from the office building and then ran inside. Yvette lay on the sidewalk confused. No one else seemed to notice her. In fact, a man walking towards her did not even blink as his strides carried him right through her legs."
The bus groaned to a stop and Kelly said this was where they would get off. As they got to their feet, Kelly explained that when Yvette got to hers, an unexpected weight shifted on her chest. Looking down, she seemed to be as endowed as the woman had been. Groping herself, she realized her boobs were not filled with silicone like the office woman, but felt one hundred percent real.
"According to the myth," Kelly continued as they stepped down to the curb. "Yvette's ghost kept possessing women with the same dream as her since they were the only souls who could see her. Her presence in their bodies would cause her measurements to be added to her hosts and, when she left, her own bust was increased to match. According to the last witness, she was beyond rational measurement."
"Okay," Aya replied, tucking her phone in a pocket. "So we're here in the middle of the night to find her and what? Have her possess you?"
"That's the plan. I want to be the biggest and, by all accounts, her dimensions are beyond normal measurements now."
Aya crossed her arms over her chest, squishing her own reasonable bust beneath her purple and black hoodie. She just did not understand why anyone would want to have boobs that could really only be measured by weight. Hell, she hated how much her girls weighed and she was just barely on the top end of average. Big as the rest her family was, she was thankful for only being a 36D.
"You're sure that's what you want?"