Haunted

It was 19.00 by the time Britney waved off the last of the moving company men. They'd all been so eager to stay back and help her unpack, she was more or less done but for all couple of boxes in the kitchen. She knew why of course. Why would any man want to put in a few extra unpaid hours after work when he should be getting home to his wife and family? It was all thanks to her perfectly formed, creamy set of DD's, packed tightly away behind a skin tight, white t-shirt. She did not often encourage this behaviour but... well, like she said – she was practically finished but for a few boxes in the kitchen.

Besides, she hadn't done anything. She'd just "accidentally" packed all of her bras away in a box, and she couldn't wear a dirty one, now could she? And the top she was wearing was tight enough to minimise the bouncing. Or so she'd thought. Although, she thought looking down at her huge chest, it has been pretty cold today. Feeling a little slutty she pulled the t-shirt over her head and went into the bathroom to have a shower, bouncing all the way.

That night she woke with a start. For a moment she forgot where she was. The light switch was not where she thought it was. Starting to panic, she looked up and screamed. A black shadow of a figure stood at the foot of her bed. Where was the light!? Click. Nothing. It was nothing. She was being stupid. Her breathing slowed, as she surveyed the room anyway. There was nobody there. It was probably just the lamp one of the boys had decided to put as far away from her bed as possible. Now how was that helpful? She laughed to herself, running her fingers through her vibrant ginger hair. She reached out, blindly to the right and found the glass on her bedside table. 'Whoops!' SMASH!

Crap, she thought, assessing the damage. Glass everywhere. Not to mention water all over the floor, the table and... yes. Her tits. It had rendered her nightdress absolutely see-through. Oh well, she thought. No one was around to see it. She'd deal with the mess in the morning. Removing her night clothes she went back to sleep in just her panties and did not wake until the next day.

She began the day off with her usual routine. An hour run on the treadmill, followed by a long hot shower. Then she dressed for work; a pinstriped power-suit with a pencil skirt and black stockings. Now if she could only find that box with her bras in... She started in the kitchen, because she remembered there being boxes in there. Nope. Nothing. Mugs, plates, a breadboard... no bras. She cast her mind back and tried to remember if there were any other untouched boxes in the house, but she knew there wasn't. Well that does it, she thought, she deserved this one. She had gone too far, teasing those guys. It wouldn't surprise her if one of them had helped himself. Sighing, she resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to buy some on her way to work.

At 8.30 she rushed out the door to her car, already running late. Not only did the bra hunt cost her time out of her usual routine, but to her horror the relatively new silk shirts she'd bought for work no longer fitted properly. She tried on shirt after shirt and eventually went back to her original choice. She buttoned it up as best she could but found that her breasts were practically spilling out of it. As she reached her 4x4, the keys slipped out of her hand and landed on the gravel of the driveway with a delicate jingle. She stopped. Took a deep breath, praying for patience, and bent over to pick them up. As she reached for them she heard the unmistakable bang of her new neighbour's door closing. She glanced up, still bent over, and found that the 40-50 year old man in a suit, clearly also on his way to work, was staring right down her top. Great, she thought, straightening up and waving to the guy, way to make a good impression on the neighbours.

As quickly as she could, without looking as though she were rushing, she got into her car and drove to work. The commute was far quicker from her new place. She felt she deserved it. To live in a nice neighbourhood for once. Especially after getting such a big promotion. It wouldn't do to turn up late on the first day either, she thought as she pulled in to the parking lot. She'd have to do a quick mall run on her lunch break.

As she walked in everyone was especially smiley that morning. She said hello to Joe, the 20-something parking attendant, and he offered to make her coffee. She declined explaining it was the first day in her new job and she wanted to make a good impression.

"I have no doubt you'll do that Ms. Engel," he smiled so sweetly Britney did not realise what he meant until she was in the elevator, half way up the building. Little shit. Still, she held her head up high as she walked into the office and pretended not to notice how much cleavage she was showing. She waved hello to the receptionist and knocked on the last door on the left. Her new office would be the one right next door to her boss.

"Come in!" she heard from the other side. She turned the handle and stuck her head through. Her boss, Mr. Wendell, was not much older than the parking attendant, which annoyed a lot of people who'd worked for the company a long time. It didn't matter what people thought if you're the CEO's son-in-law however. Britney put up with it because she knew, no matter how much of an asshole he was, he was the one holding all the free passes. He was wearing a suit no man his age should be able to afford, with his feet up his huge desk, not doing very much at all. "Bunny! Good to see you. Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable," he said, grinning widely. 'Bunny' was his pet name for her. It made her feel a little queasy. She entered the room, opening her mouth to speak when he said, "Close the door behind you." She turned around and shut the door. "Good girl," he said. She shuddered. He always said that – as though she were a dog. "Sit down."

"Thank you Mr. Wendell," she forced herself to smile as she lowered into one of his uncomfortable chairs. Mr. Wendell stared at her for a few moments and grinned. Then he made an obvious gesture to look at his watch and sighed.

"A few minutes late, Bunny. On your first day as my assistant? It doesn't make much of an impression..."

"Mr. Wendell," she gritted her teeth, "I'm sorry for my lateness. I just moved into a new place – it was a bit of a late start. I apologise. But I would like to mention that I am not your assistant; I am the assistant manager of this department." Mr. Wendell laughed, leaning back in his large, leather desk chair.

"And did you read the job description? It has changed quite a bit over the past week. Assistant manager of the department is now simply assistant to me. Do you have any issue with that?"

"Well," said Britney, thinking hard about how to go about it, "What's wrong with your assistant now... Julia?"

"Ah, Julia," he seemed as though he was thinking fondly of a old friend long forgotten. "No I got bored of her, you're far more interesting." He smiled as though she should be flattered by this. "Anyway it's the same pay grade for less work, how does that sound?" Britney paused to think. Putting it that way didn't sound like a bad deal at all. But, she shuddered internally, she'd rather take on a greater work load than have to work for this prick. It didn't seem as though she had much choice. Before she could answer him, he said, "I knew you'd come around to it. And you are making a fantastic first impression – I was only kidding. Your attire this morning more than makes up for your lateness. Continue with this performance and I see bright things in your future." He winked sickeningly, "I've had your office set up how I like it so try not to make a mess. I let you get settled in. Dismissed."

She stood before she said something she'd regret and left the room, closing the door behind her. She took a deep breath and turned to the door next to her. 'BRITNEY ENGEL – ASSISTANT MANAGER'. It would have made her feel proud if she didn't know what the job would now be entailing. Uncertain of what to expect she opened the door and stepped inside.

At first glance it seemed like a normal office. Tiny. The size of a broom cupboard. But still an office of her very own. A desk. A chair. Somewhere to hang her coat. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and looked around for anything out of place, but found nothing. She relaxed and took a seat at her desk. The computer was already set up for her. Brand new. She was pleased with that. BUZZ!! Britney jumped half way across the room – which wasn't saying much.

"Bunny!" came Mr. Wendell's voice from a small white intercom, sitting on her desk . "Bunny log into your computer!" She did so quickly and found that she was staring back at herself. There was a webcam somewhere... but she couldn't see where. "Smiiiiile! I can see you! Isn't this great? Now I'll be able to look at who I'm talking to. Just minimize it off the screen whilst you're working – I want it on at all times, understand?" Oh shit, she thought. That's all she needed. God, were her boobs really that big? "Bunny?"

She leaned over nervously, her breasts literally out of her shirt and pressed the button to speak. "Yes Mr. Wendell," she said.

By the time Britney was making her way home she'd gotten out of her seat no less than fifty times to attend to one of Mr. Wendell's needs. She'd been making his coffee, shining his shoes, writing up his paperwork and more or less doing his job for him. And she was sure he kept talking to her just so she'd have to lean over and press the button to reply.

She had managed to go to the mall during her break, but only because Mr. Wendell needed his dry cleaning picked up. She got measured at the lingerie store she got all of her underwear in. "I don't know how you've done it," said the store assistant, "you've gone up almost 2 cup sizes since your last visit. Believe me – I never forget a rack." Mr. Wendell seemed disappointed when she returned with her breasts well and truly covered up by the new sweater she'd bought, but did not say anything to her.

She was glad to be home. She'd beaten her neighbour so she'd escaped that awkward conversation for the evening. She kicked her shoes off at the door, ran herself a hot bath and went to bed. That night she was woken up again. Although this time she wasn't sure whether she was awake or not. It was dark, but she didn't think to turn on the light. Her eyes were well enough adjusted to the environment. Besides there was a light coming from the computer screen...

She moved to get out of bed but immediately fell to her knees. Whoops, she thought. She tried to get up again but found that she couldn't. Like there was a weight, holding her down. The dark figure was back. She laughed, tiredly and yawned. Silly moving boys, putting her lamp so far away... A wind started up out of no where. At first a light breeze swept across her face gently, coming from the window which was slightly ajar. Then it got stronger until a few bits of loose paper were flying around the room. Then her arms were forced upwards and her nightdress was torn from her body, leaving her knelt in the centre of her bedroom in just her panties. The cold wind was making her nipples hard, and her hands were now forced round the back of her head, her fingers locked. Impossible to move them.

She tried to move and found that she could, but she could not stand up or remove her hands from the back of her head. The dark figure was standing directly in front of her. Looking down on her. She started to shake from the cold. From the... anticipation? She seemed to know what was going to happen next. A warmth came over her breasts. The warmth of a pair of enormous hands stroking them. She squirmed at first, but then came to accept it. It was kind of nice actually. She liked to be touched. To be groped. Soon the stroking became flicking. Something was flicking her nipples. The dark figure knew how to make her wet. How to make her moan out loud.

She looked down at herself and saw that it was not just in her mind. Her breasts were moving. As though some invisible force were kneading them like bread. The next thing she felt was on her face. Her right cheek. It was warmer than the figure's hands. Burning hot. And hard. It caressed her face and moved across her lips. She knew what to do. She opened her mouth wide and all at once it was filled. She gagged but something held her in place. She was frozen in that position, unable to move at all as whatever hot, hard instrument that was in her mouth pulled itself in and out, in and out. The warmth of the figure's hands were now on the back of her head, forcing her back and forth. She knew it was skull-fucking her, and she loved it.

When it was good and covered in her salvia it's attention went back to her breasts. They were bigger. Definitely bigger than they were. She had no time to examine closely because now it was slapping them with it's cock. It's hot, hard cock flicked past her nipples and she moaned like a whore. Then, with a sudden ferocity, her tits were grabbed, roughly and forced together as she felt it's cock slide between them, fucking them hard. They were wobbling like crazy. She'd never seen them shake so much. And they were growing. Fast. The harder it fucked them, the bigger they got. She was going to cum just watching it pound them. Then... it came. Not just on her tits. But her face. Her whole body dripped in pure white cum. It was in her hair, her mouth – everywhere. And just like that it was gone. The wind stopped. But she was still sat in the middle of the floor. Covered head-to-toe in the sticky mess. She wasn't waking up. She crawled to the bathroom, got under the spray and eventually made it back to bed, not bothering to put her clothes back on. The next day she woke in that exact position.