Up until my fourteenth birthday, life was pretty good.
Sure, maybe it wasn't perfect. My biological dad was kind of a loser - sometimes showing up for important events, but most of the time missing him. I lived with my Mom, who was pretty cool most of the time - and she lived with her parents still. Sometimes I think she felt resentful towards me - especially more so after my fourteenth birthday. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I grew up there, and despite her faults, my mom managed to go through with college and get a degree. She doesn't have the most glamorous job in the world - typing up reports for some soulless corporation - but it's something. More than a lot of girls who get pregnant right out of high school manage to get.
My Uncle Jim was a pretty funny guy - when I was younger, he babysit for me a lot. He still swings by every now and then. He and my mom trade verbal barbs a lot, but I know they care for each other a lot.
Since my fourteenth birthday, I've noticed that Uncle Jim keeps giving me these furtive looks when he thinks I can't see him. Like he's worried about something - but, well...I suppose there's a reason for that.
But like I said. I had a pretty good life. I made some good friends at school. There was Lucy, my best friend since we were in preschool, who's always there to defend me and has been a great support since my fourteenth birthday. Ashley, who was on the cheerleading squad and kind of my current crush - I'm still trying to work up the courage to talk to her about it, though I'm pretty sure she suspects something since I asked her to a pride parade last year. Brooke, who was a great swimmer - we all called her a fish out of water.
We did everything we could together. We weren't the most popular girls at school, but it didn't matter much.
And then we entered high school, and things got a little awkward.
I guess I'm kinda avoiding this part, because I don't like to talk about it.
See, something happened to me when I hit fourteen. I finally hit puberty. Up until then, I'd more or less been behind most of my classmates. As they all began to develop and mature, I kinda felt like the odd girl out - still flat chested, still feeling like an awkward little girl.
And then, a few weeks after I turned fourteen, it happened. I was so happy at the time! Mom was excited for me, my friends threw me a party. It was great.
I started to develop, even! I went from nothing to an A-cup in a few days. And then, a week after that, a B-cup. It was great. I was happy with how I looked and filled with confidence - wearing more daring outfits to school (often changing after leaving so Mom wouldn't make me change first).
And then a week after that, they had grown again.
And the week after that.
And the week after that.
...And the week after that.
That was a few months ago. And since then, without fail, they've continued to grow.
Right now, my breasts are like bowling balls on my chest - not necessarily in size...because see, they're actually larger than bowling balls...but because of how much they weighed. For a time, I'd been forced to order custom bras, but they were expensive, and as my breasts continued to grow, we just couldn't afford to keep buying them. My grandma had sown some basic ones for me to wear, but...even then, I was outgrowing them regularly. I purchased a lot of plus sized shirts to try and hide them. As they continued to grow, my Mom got concerned, and took me to the doctor - and then took me again when the first doctor had said he couldn't find any reason for the growth.
Two weeks ago, I was pulled out of school. That had been...awkward.
"She's distracting to the other students," the principal had explained to my mom.
"That's bullshit - she can't help how she looks! She's here to get an education!"
"I know, I know - but please. Listen. We've gotten numerous complaints, from staff, from parents, from other students - it's just...it's distracting. I don't know what else to tell you."
I sat there in a sort of numb silence, breasts large enough that they brushed against my legs. I didn't have anything to say in my own defense - what the hell was I supposed to say in a situation like that? Gee, sorry my tits won't stop growing. Sorry that it's so distracting for everyone. It's distracting for me too you know. I couldn't even sit in the desks in class - I had to either sit at tables or in a separate chair. Stares followed me wherever I went. Just the simple act of walking resulted in the kind of bouncing you only normally see in video games. When I had first started developing, I liked the attention. When they were about a D-cup, it was fun to prance down the halls, smirking slightly, enjoying standing out for the first time in my life. But as they kept growing, and growing, and growing...the attention was annoying.
Girls were the worst about it - often poking and prodding at my chest without any preamble. Guys mostly didn't - they made a lot of suggestive comments and stared relentlessly, but only one had been stupid enough to try and grope me, and he'd been expelled for the effort. But girls! God, Jennifer Smith came up to me once and squeezed them. "Wow, Bronwyn, I guess you aren't stuffing," she'd told me acidly. What a bitch.
Anyway, yeah...I was essentially expelled from school for my breasts. I think Mom was still seeing if she could get a lawyer to take the case. But even so, there was still the pressing issue of my growing tits.
They just...wouldn't...stop...fucking...growing.
Even now, they were getting bigger. The doctors and my Mom didn't really believe me when I said it, but I could swear I could feel them growing sometimes. Slowly, yes. But steadily. Surely they would have to stop at some point.
Right now, I was sitting in the car. My breasts were over a hundred inches, and made up more than half of my body weight. Upon first glance at me, most doctors assumed I had something called 'virginial breast hypertrophy' or 'gigantomastia' if you want to be fancy about it. I'd had a bunch of blood drawn, cat scans, x-rays, you name it. And none of them had come up with anything that could explain why my tits just wouldn't stop growing. My mom kept taking me in, trying to find an explanation or a cure. But none of the plastic surgeons wanted to operate on me, since I was so young and still growing. And none of the doctors could think of anything - they'd prescribed hormone blockers and all kinds of medicine, to no effect.
We'd just finished another appointment.
"I'm sorry," the doctor had explained to my mom. "I really am. We've done the tests, we've analyzed her blood and DNA...there's no indication that she has any genetic disorder."
"How can you say that?" my mom demanded angrily. "Look at her! There has to be something going on! This isn't normal!"
"No. It's not. But unfortunately, I don't have a medical explanation. Right now, all we can really do is wait, and keep trying to find the root cause." I'd looked up symptoms of that disorder once. Breasts that grew that large and that rapidly tended to look pretty gross - red and swollen and irritated. That wasn't true of me. They were comically large, yes. Massive hindrances and the cause of future back problems, very much so. But aside from their size, they were normal. No red marks, no rashes, no irritation.
If it wasn't for the fact that they just wouldn't stop fucking growing, they were otherwise perfectly normal looking breasts.
A tear fell down my face. I missed what my life was like before I'd turned fourteen. Now, only a few months past puberty, and I had breasts larger than any woman I'd ever seen. I'd googled celebrities with big tits once, curious. Kate Upton was nothing compared to me. Syndey Sweeney? Please. I outclassed her tits by several orders of magnitude. Even some of the camgirls and thots on Instagram were nothing compared to my massively swollen hooters.
"I'm sorry, honey," my mom said, reaching over to brush a hair out of my face. "I am. We'll find answers...I promise."
I nodded, not really believing it. I didn't blame my Mom, but it was hard to have any faith that they would find answers when none had turned up yet. For fuck's sake, I couldn't even do the seatbelt without pushing the seat all the way back so that the belt could be stretched across my tits. With the size they were now, it was starting to become a struggle to walk around thanks to the back pain. I'd burst into tears last week when my grandma and mom had been arguing about whether or not to get me a wheelchair to help get around.
And if this kept up, it was going to be the only way I could get around. And shit, if they didn't stop, eventually that wouldn't be enough.
They'd have to stop sometime right? They couldn't just keep growing. Right now, I could just barely put my arms around them and still grab my hands. In about a week's time, assuming the growth kept up, I wouldn't even be able to do that. Sometimes I felt like it was getting faster. And despite their size, they felt pretty great - I'd never told this to any of the doctors, to my mom, or even my friends. But sometimes I'd rub my nipples when I was alone in my room, and holy fuck, it felt good. It would send tingling shivers of pleasure across my entire body no matter how long I did it. Once, I was able to bring myself to an orgasm three times just by fondling my tits. The bigger they got, the more sensitive the feeling was. Just the act of having my shirt brush up against my nipples underneath the shirt was enough to get me wet sometimes. It was probably for the best that I wasn't in school, all things considered. Fuck, at this rate, I wouldn't be able to fit into a bathroom stall at school in a couple weeks time. Or the doors to the classroom for that matter. Fuck! At this rate, I won't even be able to fit through the doors of my own house! What the fuck will I do then? Surely it won't come to that. They gotta stop. Right? I don't care how good it feels. Though it feels really good...but...no! I want it to stop. It has to stop. Even if the thought of Ashley massaging my tits makes me almost dizzy with pleasure sometimes. Not that she'd ever do that....
I shivered. At least the girls were coming over later. They were good about cheering me up. They hadn't abandoned me, even when I'd been forced to leave school.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as Mom started the car, all too aware of the stares of people entering and leaving the hospital. I was kind of hard to ignore, even in the car. And the jiggling that the movement of the car caused was both irritating and...well, it kinda felt nice. I blushed and looked away from the window. It wasn't easy living with such massive tits. It was only going to get more difficult if this kept up. Hopefully my friends would stay by my side anyway.