Mandy had grown another pair of breasts in the night. She had a double row of the things. Somehow she wasn’t bothered by this – it was as if in a dream; all questioning of the universe was switched off. She just accepted. They felt like her normal breasts – identically so. It was if someone had taken a 3D Xerox machine and duplicated her upper chest. “So I’ve got four breasts. Oh. Good job I’m not a big girl, or I’d be twice as large. Ah… I am anyway. Oh.”
Around 2 pm, in a storeroom at work Mandy fell asleep, and when she woke up half an hour later she had eight breasts. “Gosh, more of them. A doubling. I wonder if there’s something going on here.” Not the brightest of girls, is our Mandy, but she gets to the answer eventually. By careful leaning forward she managed to hide her new additions, and drove home strangely bland.
Another little sleep at home, and what a surprise sixteen breasts – overflowing her torso and running down her legs. Something new – all the breasts were bigger than her original pair. Again, no real emotion about this. Things just were.
About 9 pm another sleep. Thirty-two breasts. On her shoulders, arms, all down her legs. All the breasts are bigger again – as if fighting for space. You couldn’t see her chest for breasts, and most of the rest of her front-facing body was almost as bad.
After watching some bland TV, Mandy fell asleep at midnight. Sixty-four breasts, after some careful counting with the bathroom mirror. All down her back, side and front. The only place breast-free was her hands, feet and head, and these were slightly swamped by the multiple orbs. The rest of her body was now submerged in a sea of breasts. She walked like a very bow-legged jockey, the breasts all up the inside of both her thighs getting in the way.
Blandness. It was as if her personality was ebbing away. Somehow she knew this was the end, and that when she next fell asleep she wouldn’t wake up. She didn’t care.
3 am. She fell asleep standing up in front of the TV, not being able to rest comfortably in any other position, watching an old black and white film. Soon there were some gentle and soft bouncing sounds. It was the sound of 128 breasts settling into a heap. A heap of breasts only, not of girl. Of Mandy there was now nothing.
Before long there were little popping sounds, as one by one the breasts disappeared. Eventually the film played on, to an empty room.
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