Jen looked into the mirror. And stared. And screamed.
Her breasts were growing! Rapidly enlarging right before her eyes! The fabric of her shirt was straining, her bra long gone, and finally her shirt ripped along her cleavage. She looked down at her massive mammaries, shocked and feeling the weight of them drag her chest forward. Of course, this was all in her head, and the only thing an observer would see is a girl hunched over, looking into a mirror and grabbing at the air about a foot in front of her. Jen recalled the curse, "your breasts will grow until your shirt rips, and then at lunchtime, they will fill with milk that can only be removed by another person. Your back will strengthen so that your added weight feels only mildly uncomfortable."
Just then, Jen hears a knock at the door. It is