"You're right, most woman don't have to deal with milk," her mother confessed. A knowing smile flickered across her face, but her daughter had no time to wonder what secrets she was hiding.
Joanna's looked down when she felt her bosom begin to change. Their was finally relief from the achey fullness as the milk in her breasts drained away. But something wasn't right. Despite no longer being filled to the brim with dairy, they felt heavier; stretched taught. She gasped as she watched her tits push up towards her face. Those fat, heavy bags of fat inflated into a pair of tight balloons. The foreign weight next found its way to her rear. Her hands flew back to find all the new cushions stuffed inside her lower half. Her hips had been padded out, giving he an artificial girth few woman could compete with. But this was still not enough to even out the dumptruck of plastic dragging behind her. That ridiculous bubble butt was now impossibly bigger and rounder than before. Two cartoonish and round orbs that seemed barely attached to the hips they dwarfed. Like two balloons stuffed down the back of her pants. Her body had achieved a perverted balance, with four shamefully fake yoga balls bolted onto her frame. She licked her bee stung lips, tasting strawberries. She poked and prodded with long manicured nails, surprised at how plump, soft and sensitive they were.
"Some woman would prefer to deal with silicone and saline," her mother taunted.
"Oh, I look like a bimbo fweak! Why did you do this?" Joanna asks, struggling to adjust to her luscious lips.
"Me? You're the one who wanted the surgery," her mother deflected. "I'm just being a supportive mother. You wanted the money. Don't you remember?"
Damn it, she was right. Puberty hadn't quite been as generous as Joanna would like and that glitzy new clinic had opened up nearby. She walked in looking for a cuter nose, maybe an extra cup size. But then they offered all that money and she walked out of there with a Barbie's face and a pair of pneumatic boobies. The clinic had the idea of making a woman into a walking billboard for everything they offered. They just needed a greedy slut to walk in. It was a hard way to learn what was hiding inside her and once awakened, she couldn't stop. A few shots of her stupendous tits pouring out of a low cut top and her Instagram blew up faster than her tits. It wasn't long after that she was raking in the cash with an onlyfans account and she would be lying if she said she was only doing it for the money. Highschool had become less about education and more an act of displaying the merchandise. She spent most of her final year in unseen corners letting her classmates grope her for cash. Needless to say, she had the grades of a bimbo too.
"N-no, it's the remote. I wouldn't do this to myself... right?" Joanna tried to keep her thoughts straight. But her mind struggled to understand reality.
"Of course you would sweetie." The mother assured her confused daughter.
Although, sex work became her only option anyways with what the clinic was doing to her. Joanna certainly felt like a dumb bimbo for not reading the giant contract that came with all that money. Sure, filling the town with bimbos might convince a few more woman to install bazongas. But some sluts strutting around like some pumped parade floats and suddenly some silicone doesn't seem that unreasonable. And Joanna couldn't stop them. If she said no then she would be forced to pay for everything. So she kept finding herself back in their office, taking their money and accepting their modifications. She was out of control. Addicted to the money, addicted to the stares and addicted to the excessive lifestyle. Now here she was, a walking billboard to everything modern medicine had to offer.
"Sigh, I guess you had to learn the hard way," her mother taunted. "People don't give silly girls like you money to be smart. No one wants another another doctor or professor. they want sluts. A fucktoy, a another pair of ass and tits on legs." Her mother was enjoying herself, mocking her daughter with some twisted life lesson. A bit of warmth touched her mother's smile. "But if you're happy, then I'm happy too sweetie." Joanna couldn't help but feel a moment of satisfaction as her mother leaned against her daughter wrapped an arm around her. "Of course let's face it, you're not exactly college material hauling these kegs around."
Joanna squeaked in surprise as her mother gave her shelf of an ass a firm smack, the saline bags sloshing violently. The rediculously wobbly girl tottered forward as she struggled to keep her overburdened frame upright. Her face turned warm, trying ignore how good it all felt.
"Do we have to go to the mall today?" Joanna asked. "I'm not exactly made for walking, you know," she whined.
"Nonsense, you need the exercise. We wouldn't want you trapped on your back would we? Although, your agent wouldn't complain," her mother chastised. Joanna blushed at the idea of being trapped on a bed, doing nothing but sex work. "Besides, your contract does have a quota for 'public exposure'. Besides we're here for your favorite thing." Her mother espoused.
"What?" Joanna asked.