Jessicas Day

Previously posted elsewhere

Description: This story chronicles one day in the life of a woman with impossibly huge breasts. There will be a lot of mundane details about her life. If this interests you, read on. If that bores you, feel free to skip to the EPILOGUE. If you want to go straight to the sex, skip to EPILOGUE 2: THE SEX.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Jessica groped for her phone and cracked an eye to turn off the alarm. She wanted to close her eyes and go back to sleep, but she knew that in a few minutes her back-up alarm would go off across the room, and she wanted to be vertical for that. She reached above her to turn on her bedside lamp then pulled down her blankets and looked at her breasts. Jessica lay on her left side, on the right side of her queen bed, and her breasts stretched almost to the other side of the bed. Her left breast pressed up against the head of the bed, and her right breast sat next to it on the bed. Each was two feet wide on the bed, a foot-and-a-half tall at their "peaks," and weighed about a hundred pounds (they could vary by up to 20 pounds depending on the time of the month). Jessica preferred to sleep on her back, but that made getting up in the morning more difficult. She could lie down easily enough, but once down, she was held down by 200 pounds of boob flesh. Then she had to grab the handle at the end of a chain that hung from her ceiling and pull with all her might just to get into a sitting position. It was more difficult than getting up from her side, but she still preferred it. Unfortunately, the bolt connecting the chain to the ceiling had worked itself loose a few days ago, and she hadn't been able to get it repaired.

Jessica swung her legs behind her and off the bed. Her breasts anchored her top half, putting her in a kneeling position. She stood up, braced one leg against her mattress and pulled. She could feel the skin connected to her chest stretch and the glutes and quads in her leg strain as her breasts slowly slid across the bed, bringing her fitted sheet with them. She sighed, not relishing having to fix her sheets. She stood up straight and caught her balance as her breasts slapped against her and jiggled before settling down to their normal position, hanging down to just above her knees. As she took off the XXXXL men's shirt she slept in, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She had a beautiful face with bright green eyes and lips that were almost an inch thick. Her hair was red and thick, that ran in wavy tresses down to her ankles when she didn't have it done up in a braid, as she did now. Her hair was so thick that her braid was four inches wide and added a good 15 pounds to her body weight. She would cut it shorter, but it grew several inches a day until it reached its full length so she usually didn't bother. Her hips, hidden by her prodigious bust, flared out to just over two feet wide. Her ass stuck out behind her like the halves of two basketballs.

'Stupid wish,' she thought to herself for the ten thousandth time.

Nature called and she shuffled towards the bathroom, her knees knocking into her breasts with each step. She couldn't afford to have the door widened, so she grabbed her breasts on each side and squeezed them together. She still had to smush them to get them through the two and a half foot wide doorway. Due to her sleepiness she didn't center herself in the door and rammed her right hip into the doorframe. She cursed as she lost her balance and fell to the floor, landing on top of her boobs. The cold tile on over ten square feet of breast woke her up instantly. She didn't feel like standing up all the way, so she dragged her boobs over to the toilet and sat down, bending over to keep her breasts on the floor. It was cold, but was more comfortable than holding herself upright at the moment. When she finished, she washed her hands and squeezed her way back into her bedroom.

Jessica put on some music and began her morning exercises. She was sometimes tempted to skip them, but she knew that if she didn't do two hours every day, her mobility would be severely limited. That was the whole reason she got up at 5am every day. She began with backups. She put her hands on her huge hips, spread her legs, and leaned forward until her body was at a right angle and her nipples brushed the floor. She shuddered with unwanted pleasure as the carpet tickled her sensitive nipples. She felt a tingling in her nether regions and wanted nothing more than to rub herself stupid. But she didn't have time for that. 'Stupid, foolish wish,' she thought again. With a grunt, she pulled herself straight again, her (fortunately) huge glutes lifting all 200 pounds of breast flesh. Then she did it again until she had done 100 reps. Then she did 100 squats, working her glutes and her (also) huge quads. She shuffled over to the wall and braced herself against a bar in the wall as she stepped up onto a small step and worked her calves with 100 toe presses. After that she caught her breath and did two more sets of her exercises again. When she finished, she was panting and covered in sweat.

She bent over one more time to pick up her free weights and sat down on her bed, her breasts filling her lap. She worked on her arms and shoulders. She liked this part because she didn't have to support the weight of her breasts. When she finished, she lifted herself off the bed again. She would have to wait until her chain bolt was finished before doing ab exercises, because otherwise she wouldn't be able to get up again. Normally she used the chain to work her upper back, but she contented herself with resting her breasts on her bed and using the free weights to work her back. Most people didn't need to do as many reps as she did, but most people didn't need the endurance to carry around 200 pounds of boob all day.

Her last weight exercise was unique to her. She bundled a breast in both arms and curled, lifting the breast. 20 reps, three sets. Her biceps and shoulders ached, and were bigger than those of some of the men in her office, but she needed to be able to carry herself if she wanted to live independently.

She took a moment to catch her breath, then rested her boobs on her bed while she put on her running shoes. She'd gotten adept at tying them without seeing them. Then she squeezed out of her bedroom and into the living room. She heaved her breasts on top of the standing desk she'd put in front of the treadmill and started it up. The desk held enough of her weight that she could jog on the treadmill. She ran for forty minutes while watching the news. Then she pulled her breasts off the desk (which was easy because they were coated in sweat) and got on the floor to do some stretches. She had room for splits, but she had to spread her breasts apart to touch her toes.

When she finished, she hoisted herself up, squeezed herself back into her bedroom and bathroom, and got in the shower. Keeping her balance was tricky at the best of times, and especially when her feet were wet. Not that she could squeeze her breasts into a normal shower. She had a bathtub that she rested her breasts in, and used the handheld shower head to wash her entire body. She had paid extra to have a drain installed in the floor of her bathroom, so the entire room became her shower. She scrubbed her breasts with a long-handled brush, biting her lip as she brushed her nipples. They were so sensitive she almost came right there. She wanted to give in and enjoy herself, but her years of discipline won.

Since she couldn't have her headphones in while she bathed, it freed her mind to remember all her regrets, including the terrible, stupid wish she had made so many years ago.

FLASHBACK (TW: SA)

High school Jessica had average looks, but she was flexible and athletic, which got her a spot on the cheer squad. Like most of the other cheerleaders, she had a crush on one of the football players. In her case, she liked the quarterback, Ken Sterling. He was tall, and strong, and utterly suave and charming. She wasn't the only cheerleader to have a crush on him, and she knew she wasn't the prettiest. There were bustier girls, more athletic girls, and more outgoing girls. She had nothing that made her stand out, so she knew she didn't have a chance.

Until one day.

Jessica was at the mall and found a store that she'd never seen before. She'd never even seen a door on this wall before, and something drew her inside. The inside looked like an antique shop, with shelves full of various objects and curios.

"Can I help you, miss?" asked the old man at the counter.

"No thanks, just looking," she replied.

He smiled "well, Jessica, just let me know what you want."

Jessica paused. "How did you know my name?"

"I think you know."

And Jessica did know. This was a Wandering Shop. They were said to grant wishes, but often in a way that you didn't expect or wanted.

"How...can you help me?" she asked, warily.

"That depends," he said, "on what you really want."

That wasn't really a question, but Jessica paused before answering. "Well, there's this boy."

"There usually is," the old man said with a smirk.

"But he's really great, but I don't have a chance," she bemoaned.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Well, there's nothing that makes me stand out. If only I could become what he wants."

"Do you think that would make you happy?" he asked.

"Well, I think so? I mean, he's just the coolest guy." (The modern Jessica shuddered when she remembered how he described him)

"I can help you, but you have to be sure."

Jessica paused, then nodded her head. "I'm sure."

The old man shook his head. "Well, if you're sure." He walked down the aisle until he found an item that looked like a small, thin box. He opened it up, revealing two sides each the size of an index card with black wax. "The Tablet of Aphrodite. Write your name on one side and the side of this remarkable lad on the other. When you next awake, your form will have become that which he most desires. You can use any stylus or even a toothpick. The world will change so you have always looked this way, or come to look this way naturally. Your mind and personality will not change, except to remember your new life. Should you wish to change your form again, simply spread out his name, and write in the name of your next potential lover. I warn you now: you will never be able to return to your original form, unless you happen to find someone who most desires it."

Jessica thought it over. She wasn't too attached to her limp brown hair and hazel eyes, or any part of her boring form. "I'll take it. How much?"

"Only twenty dollars," he replied.

Jessica happily paid it. That night, she wrote her name in one side and Ken's in the other. She could barely sleep, she was so excited.

When she woke up, she found herself pinned to her bed by breasts that were almost 2/3 of her body weight. As her mother helped her get ready for school, she remembered how they'd started growing from when she was 10, seemingly doubling in size every month. A few years later her ass and hips expanded, too. Now she needed help just to get ready in the morning and was her school's most unusual user of disability benefits. She actually used a wheelchair to get around to classes! She wanted to be mortified, but her memories told her that this was just business as usual for her.

Fortunately, her memories also told her that she was dating Ken Sterling! She was the envy of everyone in school, despite being a freak. She put those thoughts together and came to a disturbing conclusion: her boyfriend was a freaky pervert! What kind of guy would get turned on by breasts so big they put her in a wheelchair? But he was nice to her and wheeled her from class to class.

As time went on, she started to see hints of his façade. He mostly respected her boundaries. That is, he never went all the way with her because she said no, but he would massage her nipples, which was enough to arouse her. Then he would squeeze and massage them until she came just from her sensitive nipples. While she was distracted, he would pump his dick in between her breasts until he came all over them. He would clean her off afterwards and apologize. He told her that she was just too sexy and he couldn't help it. Then he would tell her how lucky she was to find a guy who found her sexy, since most men wouldn't.

She believed him, too. Most people looked at her with pity or disgust. There were a few guys (and some girls) she saw looking at her with lust, and she wanted nothing to do with them. He was perverted, but he was at least kind about it.

Then came prom and what happened after. He got a room for them at the hotel where the prom was held and was adamant about going all the way. For some reason, the more he insisted and tried to cajole her into giving it to him, the more she grew a spine she never knew she had.

He became impatient and grabbed her nipples again. She was not in the mood and was angry with Ken, but her body betrayed her. She was instantly aroused and came and came again. As he thrust into her breasts, she realized that the sensitive nipples were definitely part of his desire. Normally she let herself go when he did this, but she remembered the old man telling her that her mind wouldn't change. She forced herself out of her orgasm-induced fugue state and leaned forward.

"Oh, going to suck me off for once?" Ken jeered.

"Not...quite," she gasped. She reached forward and grabbed Ken's balls and squeezed. Ken howled and tried to pull back, but girls who push their own wheelchairs have very good grip strength.

"What the hell are you doing, you dumb bitch?" Ken shouted and slapped her.

She refused to let go. Instead she gripped harder, forcing him to his knees. "Touch me again and these turn to jelly," she warned. He whimpered but didn't retaliate. She leaned over and grabbed her phone in the custom pocket she sewed into her bra. She called her friend Sandra and told her she needed help and where she was.

In ten minutes there was a knocking at the door. Jessica let Ken go and stumbled to the door. She collapsed a little in front of it and reached up to turn the handle. Sandra came in with a few of her friends, after Jessica was able to drag her tits away from the door. They helped Jessica back into her dress, wheeled her out, and took her home.

PRESENT DAY

That was five years ago. Shortly after that, Jessica had insisted on going to physical therapy and getting strong enough to move herself around. She graduated college and got a paralegal's certificate. She was currently saving up for law school. She liked working in law because she could sit at a desk all day and fill out paperwork.

Sometimes she considered putting someone else's name in the tablet to get rid of her huge boobs, but now that she knew how perverted men were, she didn't want to take the risk. What if she chose the wrong guy and her breasts got even bigger, or she expanded to weigh 600 lbs, or became a seven foot tall amazon? Actually, that last one wouldn't be so bad, but she just couldn't bring herself to take the risk.

After she finished washing herself, she underwent the laborious process of drying herself. It took two towels just to do her body including her boobs. Her hair, surprisingly, only needed one towel and dried quickly. It seemed that Ken wanted her hair to be easy maintenance. She did use a blow drier on the underside of her boobs. If they weren't completely dry they tended to chafe. A little corn starch grabbed the rest of the moisture.

She squeezed back into her bedroom. She grabbed one of her custom bras off its hanger on the wall and set it on the bed. Then she put her arms in the shoulder straps and shimmied into it. The shoulder straps were five inches wide and padded like a backpack's. She reached behind herself and joined the two sides of the zipper at the bottom. The back of her bra stretched from the bottom of her ribcage up to her neck and had a foot-long zipper that joined them together. The zipper key had a foot-long strap so she could zip it up herself, which she did, now. Sometimes she felt like Tony Stark getting into his power armor when she put this on. She took a deep breath and heaved. When she stood up, her breasts came off the bed with her. Instead of hanging down almost to her knees, they now sat above her hips. This way she could walk without kicking herself in the tits. Unfortunately, this way they also stuck out a full two feet in front of her and made her four feet wide.

She sighed as she looked at her panty drawer. There just weren't as many sexy options for women with hips her size. At least they were stretchy and comfortable. She rested her breasts on her bed as she slipped on a pair of XXL pantyhose. She pulled an enormous blouse from her closet. She buttoned the lower half of the buttons (the ones she couldn't reach while she wore it), then stepped into the top and pulled it up to her torso. She slipped it over her shoulders and buttoned the remaining buttons. A professional skirt and some step-in loafers completed the look. She approached the door with her right breast, squeezed it through while rotating around the left door frame - carefully so she wouldn't pop off a button again - thrust her hips forward like she was doing the limbo to get her ass through, then finished the rotation and pulled her left boob through. She had to wear darker blouses because white ones always got dirty from the door frames.

She grabbed her purse and squeezed out her front door the same way. She was relieved that she didn't meet anyone, as she filled up most of the hallway of her apartment building as she walked. The stairs were another challenge. She approached them slowly, questing out with her foot until she found the edge of the stair, then worked her way down. She went slowly so her breasts didn't jiggle so much. Too much and she could snap ANOTHER bra.

Out on the street, she apologized to everyone she passed by since she took up most of the sidewalk. Some people gave her understanding nods, but some, especially old women, shot daggers at her with their eyes. She heard more than one whispered "slut" as she passed. She sighed. How else was she supposed to dress? A nun's habit? Occasionally she passed someone who looked with obvious lust. She shuddered and tried not to let it bother her. She knew not everyone was like Ken.

The lightrail showed up just before she made it to the stop and she tried to speed walk to get there since she couldn't really run. The other challenge was that she had to judge the distance just right or all her mass would pull her right past the door without letting her slow down. At least the light rail had wide doors. Unfortunately, it was packed as it was rush hour. She apologized to everyone she had to push out of the way, since she took up as much room as 3-5 people. Sometimes she was lucky enough to get one of the priority seats, but not today. She took a wide stance and gripped two of the loops overhead as hard as she could so her inertia didn't knock her over when the train started and stopped.

After an hour, her legs and back were burning with exertion, but she had made it to work. She walked into the office, greeting the lawyers and other paralegals. Those who saw her coming ducked into cubes to get out of her way. At least they were nice to her at work, since she worked hard. At least no one looked at her like she was a demon of moral corruption. Except that old bitch Debra, but no one liked her, anyway.

Her employer was very accommodating with her condition. She had an extra-wide seat and a keyboard split in two halves so she could rest her chest on her desk and not have to reach over or under them to type. She could bury herself in her work and forget about her chest until lunch time. Bethany, the angel she was, even brought Jennifer coffee.