Britney Engel, a bright 18-year-old student at Westbrook High, had many things in common with her mother. She was a grade A student, soon to be class valedictorian. Her boyfriend, Brock, was the star quarter-back -- they were both attending Yale University after the summer. She had a small, dainty build with pale skin and bright red hair. The only thing different (glaringly so) was her cup size. Although Britney was a respectable C cup (proportionate to her frame), her mother was into the Ks and still growing.
It probably sounded petty and insignificant to most, but her grandmother had been the same. What made her so different? Mostly she tried to put it to the back of her mind but, periodically, it would crop up again. She just so happened to be thinking about it in class when her professor was called out suddenly. A few minutes later, another guy in a lab coat replaced him and started talking about chemicals. Britney, for a change, was not paying attention.
When the bell rang he asked that she stay behind, so as the other students packed their bags and left, she remained in her seat. A teacher had never asked her to stay behind before -- perhaps he could tell her heart wasn't really in the lesson today. She hoped she wouldn't be in too much trouble. After all, graduation was only next week!
"Miss Engel," said the professor. He was a tiny man, with greying hair and round Harry-Potter-style spectacles. A history of acne was spread across his face and though he smiled, it did not quite reach his eyes.
"Yes, sir?" Britney responded, trying to sound sincere.
"Perhaps I know your father. Quarter-back for the Westbrook Wasps in 82?"
"Oh, yes. That's him. Brad Engel," she smiled. A lot of teachers asked her this.
"And your mother..."
"Stephanie Mason. Valedictorian, same year,"
The professor nodded, as though she'd confirmed his suspicions. "You look a little alike," he told her. She nodded, smiling sadly. She got that a lot too. "But for one thing, of course. Two, more accurately." Britney's mouth made a perfect 'o' shape, and she immediately turned a dark shade of scarlet. "I take it that has not escaped your notice either. Well, Britney, there may be something I can do to help with that. I am a scientist, after all. Is that something that might interest you?"
Britney was still in a state of shock. Teachers didn't say things like this. They weren't supposed to. Although he wasn't being... sexual, really. I mean, she thought, he is a scientist. Maybe he just wants to help... to experiment?
"You don't have to answer right away," the man said, "Here," he handed her a long, black flask, "Take this. If you are agreeable with the... experiment, you must drink this in the next 24 hours. The sooner, the better. Keep it warm and it may last a little longer. You don't have to let me know. I can observe the progress over the next week, I'm sure."
"So," she said, confused, "Professor Miller is not coming back before graduation?"
"No, Britney. There is, I believe, a family emergency he must attend to that may take some time. Off you go now,"
* * *
That night Britney lay awake in her bed, the flask nestled between her legs to stay warm. She lived in a beautiful house at the end of one of the most expensive roads in Westbrook, with her father. Her mother worked abroad as a lawyer for the third world. Brad Engel was a businessman. So most nights she kept to her room. She didn't want to get in his way, or in the way of any of the clients he was entertaining during the evenings.
Her laptop, which lay next to her head, gave a ping!
Brock: send us a pic
Britney rolled her eyes.
Britney: uve got lots of pics
Brock: none of ur tits
Britney bit her lip.
Britney: y would u want 1 of my tits?
Brock: r u serious?
Britney: yes. Do u like them?
Brock: baby I love them!
Britney: and u wouldn't change them at all?
Brock: ...
This was it. The verdict. She decided that if Brock saw her size as a problem, then she was going to have to do something about it. After all, she was his girlfriend!
Britney: u wouldn't make them... smaller?
Brock: definitely not!!!
Britney: bigger?
Brock: u r perfect the way u r baby. But bigger is always better ;)
* * *
The next morning Britney woke with a sore back. She rubbed it all the way to school. And after science the teacher kept her behind again.
"So, Britney. How did it taste?" He asked.
"Warm," she said, "and salty,"
"Did you like it?" She shrugged, uncertainly.
"You will come to like it more and more as we increase the dosage. I can see that it has already had some effect. I won't measure you now, but I can see you were at least a C to start out with. I think we're making good progress. Now, as well as drinking it you should think about applying some directly to the targeted area Nipples are best. And don't forget to allow it to dry!"
That evening Britney hopped past her father and up the stairs (pleased that she was bouncing a little). Once the door was closed she immediately stripped off her shirt and bra, knelt down in front of her full length mirror and opened the flask.
She poured out the goop within. It was white and sticky, but didn't taste bad. She took a long drink and poured the remains over her chest. Once she'd set the flask on the ground beside her, she massaged the medicine into her breasts, concentrating on her nipples as she'd been told. She knew immediately that she had applied too much. Allow it to dry, the professor had said. Her door didn't have a lock and her father was in and out of her bedroom most of the evening. She leapt up and placed a chair against the handle -- like they did in the movies. She then sat on her bed and opened the window, allowing the fresh air to sweep across her breasts. She was sat there for a good half an hour before she was sure it was dry. The cool night breeze had hardened her nipples until they were like tiny diamonds.
The next morning not only did her back ache, but her breasts were practically pulsating. They seemed to jiggle with every beat of her heart. She could not get her bra to clasp, so had to wear a tshirt that had been too big just a week ago, and now hugged her titties to her tiny frame like cling film. At first she kept a sweatshirt on but after a while she got used to the attention and started enjoying it, so began to walk with a little more bounce.
"When I said apply a little to your nipples, you didn't listen to me, did you?" the professor said at the end of the day. Britney went bright red and shook her head, her jugs swaying with her. "You have grown at least 2 cup sizes since yesterday. But no matter, at least I can see you are eager. There is no danger, I shall simply have to start you on the next phase of the program sooner than expected. Here is your dose for this evening," he gave her the flask, "And here, on this memory stick, is an audio track I'd like you to put on while you sleep. As low a volume as you can manage. Wear headphones if possible. Don't concentrate on the sounds, just go to sleep as you normally would. Okay?"
