It was a beautiful spring day, warm sunlight streaming into the large, Victorian mansion. A little, six-year old girl was walking down the floor, looking rather grumpy. "I'm SOOOO bored!", she mourned, her long, baggy skirt waggling from side to side. With each step, the silver ornaments on her purple dress knocked against her body, a feeling she had gotten used to though. Not knowing what to do, the little princess yawned, stretching her arms out from her body. Her sleeves ended in white collars, flounced like her skirt, covering the lower half of her hands while leaving free view on her tiny fingers.
Suddenly, the girl stopped. Around the corner in front of her, she could hear at least three people talking. Happy about the diversion, she sneaked forward, wondering who it could be. Maybe her parents? No, they were not home, one of the reasons for her boredom. So, the girl figured it had to be some of their many servants, which of course were all too busy to play with her.
Curious like little girls are, she carefully peeked around the corner. Four of their cooks, including the chef, were standing in front of a room. One of them, a slender man with a large mustache, was speaking.
"…and the sugar? Did you measure it right?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's fine", a small, grim looking cook replied. "And the milk, the butter, and everything else we used! Just calm down already, will ya?"
Another cook, big and rather corpulent, sighed. "I really hope you're right", he said. "We spent the whole day making this "special treat" for our mistress." The mention of a special treat sharpened the girl's ears. "We gave all our heart and soul into this. If it turns out we messed up, I might as well hang my cook hat on the nail."
"Don't exaggerate!", the small man snapped at him. "I've done things way more difficult before. This may be the most "special" treat we ever made, but it isn't a hard one! So stop worrying about stuff like sugar and giving up on your career, everything's fine!" But after a while, he murmured: "Though I do wonder if I put enough cream on top..."
Again the plumb cook sighed. "Guess we can just hope. It's too late to go back into the kitchen and change something. We have to wait until the evening, and hear what the mistress will say."
The slender cook looked at an old, noble grandfather clock. "Do you think she will like it?", he asked, sounding a bit nervous. "It was her husband's idea, after all. She might find it a bit…"
"If she really loves him, it'll be fine", the chef, a young woman with a blond ponytail, interrupted him. "Anyway, we should get going now. The groceries won't get done by themselves."
The other cooks nodded. The little girl quickly pulled her head back, pressing her back against the wall. She heard as the cooks moved into her direction, their steps steadily getting louder. Her heart nearly stopped as they walked past her - sweat was running down her face, every muscle of her body stiff as a board. None of them took a notice of her, not even the small one, although he was just a few heads larger. After they had passed her, their steps slowly faded off until not even their echo resounded from the walls. In the distant, she could then hear a door getting opened, before it closed again with a squeak.
The little girl relaxed her pose, sighing in relief. A sly smile then spread over her face, her eyes gleaming in excitement. A special treat! In the kitchen! With cream on top! She tried to imagine what mysterious gift had been prepared for her mother: A cake? A pie? A tart? Inside their collars her hands began to shake, her whole body shivering in expectation...
Unable to hold back any longer, she dashed through the floors, her feet flying over the carpet. The ornaments on her dress rattled as she rushed towards the kitchen, her heart pounding heavier the closer she got. Overflowing with excitement, she nearly fell over her own skirt, sending her tripling for the rest of the way. Holding her hands in front of her, she just managed to keep her head from crushing against a door. After a short moment of shock, the little girl got all excited again: Right before her was the kitchen. Eager to see what waited there she swung the door open.
Aside from being very large, the kitchen was rather ordinary. As she looked around, she noticed something lying on one of the counters, and walked over to it. Standing on tiptoe – why did she have to be so short? – she tried to look over the edge. The first thing she saw was a line of white whirls. A wide smile then grew on her face, the little girl staring with shining eyes at the special treat the cooks had talked about.
A plate of creamy cupcakes.
"Sweet!", she exclaimed, then quickly put her hands on her mouth. After taking a nervous look around, the little girl began to giggle: Cupcakes were her favorite snack ever! Sure, she may have said that about many other snacks before, but this time, she meant it!
As she was about to grab one of the delicious sweets her hand hesitated for a moment. The cooks had made the cakes for her mom, not for her - and they usually were quite fussy about stuff like that. Also, she was forbidden to eat sweets before dinner.
Once more she glanced over the counter. The white, puffy cream almost demanded to be eaten…
"No one will notice if I take one, will they?", she told herself, reaching out her arm again. The little girl had to hop, her fingers constantly slipping off the valuable goods. It wasn't really of help she couldn't see more than the twirly peaks – really, why did she have to be so short? – , but at least she managed to pull one of them into her direction.
Finally, the cake was close enough for her to grab it. With a victorious grin she held it before her face, her mouth flooding with drool: It was marvelous! Beneath the layer of cream the cake itself looked appealingly soft and sweet, slightly steaming as it was still warm. The little girl shoved the cake right into her mouth, gulping it down as if she hadn't eaten anything in years. A delightfully sweet taste hit her tongue as she bit on the fluffy pieces of cake, spilling the cream all over her face. After a few seconds, she had emptied the cup, smiling happily as she licked her fingers.
A sudden rumble emerged from her stomach. She looked down at herself, patting her little belly. But as nothing happened in the next two seconds she shrugged it off. While she continued to "clean" herself, the little girl didn't notice her head was getting further away from the ground. Her skirt, which was usually dragged over the floor, began to rise, steadily revealing her blue ballerinas. The collars of her sleeves also slid up, while her frilly dress tightened around her torso. Unaware of what happened, the little girl jolted up in height, her eyes eventually in line with the kitchen counter.
Satisfied, the girl patted her belly again, not noticing her belt line was higher than usual. "That was good!", she exclaimed. As she wiped the remaining cream from her face however, she felt it was a bit hard to move her arms, as if her dress was a little too tight. Also, her shoes were pinching slightly, like they were a few sizes too small for her. She then remembered her mother had once said (after she had eaten a few cookies too much) that a lot of sweets would make her fat, so that she wouldn't fit into her beautiful dresses anymore. While thinking about it, the taste of the cupcake stayed inside her mouth. Chewing on it some more, her mind soon wandered off from her weight issues and back towards the remaining cupcakes in front of her...
"Just a few more", the girl said to herself. She grabbed three other cupcakes, a little surprised she could reach them so easily all of a sudden. One by one she devoured the delicious sweets, just as fast as the previous one, spilling the cream all over her face again. Their sweet taste began to drive the girl into an obsession – no wonder the cooks called it a "special treat".
Finishing the last cup, the girl let out a sigh, throwing the leftovers on the kitchen counter. Another rumble, far louder than the previous one suddenly sounded from her stomach, triggering another growth spurt. This time, the changes were hard not to notice: Little by little, her skirt rose up, uncovering her legs as they got longer and longer. Her shoes and socks seemingly shrunk around her feet until they completely broke apart, leaving the girl bare-footed in the kitchen.Her torso grew at a similar pace, though the girl found it strange her waist remained as slim as it was – nonetheless, it was getting pretty narrow for her. As her sleeves slid up her growing arms, her tiny child's hands reached out, growing more feminine. It became dizzy for the girl as her head rose into the air, the changes meanwhile also affecting her face: Her chubby cheeks deflated, her eye-lids extended, her childish expression maturing as she turned bit by bit into a teenager. Her curly hair also lengthened, remaining its position on her altering body.
As her knees were uncovered, the girl suddenly felt her skirt rapidly getting tighter: Her formerly inconspicuous butt began to expand at a faster pace, reaching backwards. From unknown sources flesh kept flowing into it, the outlines of her bum steadily curving out. Her hips also widened, matching the lager form or her butt. The swelling caused her skirt's rising to accelerate, the rear going up faster than the front. As it rose over her thighs her legs thickened slightly, not enough to be called "fat", their clean, tight appearance underlining the firm impression of her butt.
At the time her rear was growing the girl also felt something bulging out at her chest: Beneath her over-stretched dress, two small mounds began to ascend from her body. They pressed the fabric away, enlarging her head hole slightly – soon, she was able to take a humble look down at them, a small rift gaping at the top of her dress. A loud rip then announced her dress was crossing its limit: At her still slim waist the threads of fabric stretched over her belly, one by one breaking apart. Her dress split into two, both parts lying tightly on her new figure. As the strange entities on her chest shaped up the gap between them closed, her plump bumps squeezing each other.
Seeing them grow, the girl wondered what these things were actually good for. She knew her mother had them as well, just like any other female adult she knew. Until now she had always thought them to stuff their clothes with cotton, so it would be more comfortable to hug their children - she had actually seen her mother once putting something into her dress before going out with her father. It always felt so soft when she hugged her mother, like embracing a white, fluffy pillow.
White and fluffy, just like cream...
Savoring the cupcakes' delicious taste, the rest of the growth went on pretty much unnoticed. Her already torn clothes were strained further as she aged, a small rip going down her chest. Intended to cover her palms, the collars now decorated her elbows, leaving free view on her fine, filigree hands. Above her naked feet, one could freely glance at her smooth legs up to the calves, the skirt only held by her bootylicious butt. Between the torn pieces of fabric her slim, but not overly meager waist was in complete loss of cover. With an almost grown-up face the youngster now towered over the once high kitchen counter, being more than twice as large as before.
And as she looked down, she saw more of the creamy cupcakes…
"No!", the youngster said to herself. "I had enough! These are for my…"
Just then, behind the white ones, she spotted a plate full of brown, chocolate-garnished cupcakes.
She suddenly remembered chocolate cupcakes to be her favorite snack ever.
Leaving all qualms behind, the youngster took two chocolate cakes in each hand, and another white between them. Though she had already eaten four, her hunger wasn't satisfied: Like a pig she bit into the sweet-bitter cream, her cheeks soon rounded by tiny pieces of cake. One load after another she gulped down, her face spilled with white and brown cream as she dug her head into the tartlets.
It didn't take long before the cups were empty again. Dropping them to the ground, the youngster suddenly felt strange, first thinking she hat eaten too fast. But as her stomach growled once more she realized it was no ordinary sickness that overcame her: Again her height increased, this time only a few inches, all parts of her body equally extending. Packing on some more pounds, the youngster gained a pair of incredibly sturdy thighs, her legs seemingly made out of rubber. Her already curvaceous rear rounded out further, the bulking buns swallowing her underwear. Flaring out a bit, the width of her hips soon matched the volume of her bum, her waist in comparison only slightly thickening. The last remnants of childhood completely vanished from her appearance, the transformation into an adult virtually complete.
Again she didn't take much notice of her changes, this time however not out of ignorance: As the chocolate digested inside her stomach, a shallow tingle arose in her chest, spreading through the mysterious mounds that had formed on it. Her breasts, which had grown only slightly at first, suddenly started to blow up like balloons, the rift on her front quickly deepening. The fabric of her already tight top continued to dissolve, slowly revealing the rising domes of flesh beneath. With the growing pressure, their actually round shape got slightly demolished, the expansion seemingly weakening as the space constantly decreased.
A weird feeling was cruising through the young woman: For some reason she had to blush, an unknown sensation growing alongside her bust line. Slowly, her top was ripping apart, her cleavage already presenting more breast than she possessed after the last growth spurt. Every single fiber of her former dress could be seen on her bosom, flesh flowing out of the numerous holes. With every grown inch, another part of the fabric broke away. Her constrained breasts then immediately shot forward, therefore destroying more of her clothing. As their prison slowly dissolved in this vicious circle, her ample balls regained their spherical shape, sticking out from her like solid spheres. Though there was not much left of her top, its leftovers began to crawl over her bust, exposing a firm under-cleavage. With little to cover herself, the young woman sported a pair of full double D's, undeniable marks of her freshly gained adulthood.
Unconsciously, her breath had gotten heavier, interrupted by short, soft gasps. The weird sensation began to feel like a pleasure, one her still six-year old mind couldn't comprehend. Her luscious legs shivered at the unknown delight, but also as they fought to carry the meat on her chest. It seemed like her breasts had stopped growing, but the young woman could feel the pressure in her top was still rising. Stout as ever, her globes began to shake inside their jail, the movements of her bust rocking her whole body. Overwhelming bursts of lust rushed through the grown-up girl, the child inside her drowning in a flood of pleasure.
With a doubling in size her breasts blew her top to pieces, bouncing violently as the young woman fell onto her knees. Throwing her head into her neck, she let out a strong, sensual moan, her whole body shaking like her bust. Their jiggling movement couldn't hide the firm appeal her milkjugs possessed, her nipples only slightly falling from the centers.
With closed eyes, she put her arms on her outrageous rack. A warm tingle arose at the touch, slowly spreading throughout her entire bosom, before scattering into the rest of her body. Hit by the surging sensation, her mind completely shut off, her instincts now fully controlling her actions: With a crimson face, she pushed her creamy hands into the piles of flesh, tightening her cleavage. The stout mounds responded by driving her thrill even higher, "forcing" her to press harder. Despite its firmness, she could nearly press half of her bosom together, making the area around her hands look even larger. Though she was gasping in arousal, the young woman still didn't feel satisfied: With fast, twitching movements she began to grope herself, each squeeze sending quick waves of lust through her body.
A charge of moans burst out of her mouth, the young woman strengthening her fondling. The sensation grew higher and higher, about to reach its climax, her whole body pumped with hormones. While she continued however, her voice suddenly began to fall, the power in her moans weakening - it was too much for her, she couldn't handle all this new feelings at once. After a few seconds, all she could do was throw out some husky wheezes, all the pleasure lost in a pool of exhaustion.
Losing feelings for anything but her breasts she fell to the side, the monstrous glands jumping in all directions as she released her grip on them. Even without the pressure their size outdid her head's, taunting the physics of law with their unsupported firmness(even though that was hard to see while she was lying on the side). Her hair was scattered around her head, her legs spread out so her almost non-existent underwear gave free view on her juicy butt cheeks. Her moaning turned into panting, before drifting off towards a harmless form of hyperventilation.
As the sensation faded off, the young woman slowly came back to senses. She held her belly, feeling a bit sick - the many sugar started to backfire on her. Wiping the remaining chocolate cream from her lips, she noticed her hands had left some of it at the sides of her bust. Pulling her head forward, she tried to lick it off, but couldn't reach there with her tongue. With both hands she pulled her breast closer to her mouth, spilling more cream over it. In the end however, she was only able to lick some sweat of her skin. Disappointed she let go of her breast. The stout sphere jumped back again, the young woman watching the jiggle until it lastly came to a halt.
With a chocolate garnished bosom, she decided to stand up. There wasn't really much she could do from her current position though, and rolling on her back seemed a little too risky. So, after some fruitless wiggling, she tried to get on her knees. While she managed to put her legs in a proper position, she had trouble to turn her torso –her breasts just wouldn't leave the ground, not even slightly. In stuttering movements she had to drag them over the glassy floor, their sensitivity nearly causing another calamity. After she finally managed to turn her front towards the floor, the young woman raised her butt. Her whole body was pressing against her bosom, cutting its length by half while doubling the width.
The next step was to somehow lift these monsters: Putting her hands on the ground, she tried to do a push-up. The pressure on her breasts got lighter, returning it to their round shape, while the ankle between her butt and back decreased. The further she rose however, the more she struggled, the load of her chest dragging her down. Just as her nipples left the floor, her boobs clashed right back on the ground, sending her whole torso wobbling. After a short moment of rest she tried again, only to fall back once more. The crashing and bouncing started to turn her on again.
Taking a deep breath, she gathered all her power, the veins on her arms pulsating as she lifted her body. Again the squeeze on her breasts was reduced, until they eventually set off from the ground. Having their whole weight to carry, the young woman stopped for a moment. Then, inch per inch, her bubbles rose higher, swinging slightly as they hung freely in the air. With some effort, she managed to get her arms straight, squishing her bosom a bit. Crawling like a baby, she dragged her legs forward, changing her position into some more dignified. Her sagging breasts fell back on her body, her skirt falling low enough to cover a decent amount of her butt.
Her arms were still holding her up. Wondering if she could sit by herself, she removed her hands. The full extent of her new endowments immediately became aware to her, but before she could react, the young woman fell forward again, leaving her exactly where she had begun: Bouncing on her bosom, slightly aroused, her bare butt pointing at the ceiling.
Sighing, she prepared for another try, when her ears suddenly caught voices coming from the floor. She turned her head as the door swung open, her eyes widening in fear as four figures entered the kitchen.
The chatter between them immediately died as the cooks saw their young mistress on the ground, buckled by her bosom while she presented her shining rear to them. Her body was shaking again, but not because she felt pleased.
"Um, this doesn't look good, does it?"
---------------------------------------------------------
It was a beautiful summer day, warm sunlight streaming into the large, Victorian mansion. A tall, 22-year old woman was walking down the floor, looking rather grumpy. "I'm SOOOO bored!", she mourned, her large, baggy bosom waggling up and down. With each step, the massive mounds on her chest knocked against her body, a feeling she had gotten used to though. Not knowing what to do, the buxom princess yawned, sticking her chest out from her body. Her pink dress ended in a cut-open cleavage, flounced like her skirt, covering the lower half of her breasts while leaving free view on their still rich top.
Wondering if she should go to her parents, most of her body stopped as she heard voices around the corner. Quickly the young woman pressed her back against the wall, only its highest part touching it though since she had to press her butt along. For the first time since a few weeks her distinctive shape became a hindrance as she sneaked towards the corner, trying to stand straight while listening to the conversation.
"…and the sugar? Did you measure it right?"
"Jeez, I think I have a déja-vu", the small cook sighed.
The slender cook grumbled. "Well, after we messed up last time…"
"I wouldn't call it a mess-up", the corpulent cook argued. "The fact that the cream cakes made our young mistress older doesn't mean it wouldn't have made our... um, more mature mistress not younger. The recipe said it would direct the consumer towards "perfect beauty", so the effect probably varies on the age. And" he added after clearing his throat "I don't think anyone here doubts the effectivity of the chocolate."
It sounded like the small cook was shaking his head. "I can't believe we tried another one of those recipes! Haven't they learned from what happened to their daughter?"
A small pause. "Maybe they liked the results…", the slender cook said after a while. And in a much lower voice: "I do."
"We shouldn't question our masters' decision.", the chef threw into the talk. "They pay us to cook what they want, after all. Anyway, we should go up and inform them..."
"What was that?", the slender cook suddenly asked. He could have sworn someone had just passed through the floor towards the kitchen.
The small cook shrugged. "I didn't see anything. You are just overworked."
A wide smile on her face, the young woman dashed through the floor, her curly hair fluttering while she ran. No clapping came from her red high-heels as they only barely touched the ground, her long, slinky legs taking big steps. Her skirt, which ended just shortly above her butt's end anyway, leaving a faint view on her pink slip and what it not covered, now floated in her airstream, revealing a remarkable amount of booty. The copious bouncing loosened the hold of her dress, her braless breasts nearly slapping into her face. With her bust ahead she crashed against the door, causing tremendous waves on her body as she stumbled into the kitchen.
Panting, she bent forward, accidentally airing her bum. Still swaying from the impact her breasts hung down her body, almost falling out of their generous cover. After recovering her breath the young woman rose her head, eager to see what the cooks had prepared.
She dropped her jaw at the sight of the new treat.
Directly in front of her, on a large roll car, the biggest, frilliest, most delicious looking cream tart in the whole universe presented itself to the young woman. In terms of size it easily outmatched her, being made out of seven grand floors, each decorated with numerous cream whirls and strawberries. Little chocolate figures had been placed on it, the one on top resembling an angel, while large areas were garnished with chocolate or strawberry cream.
The drool was almost dribbling from her mouth. Lucky since cream tarts were her favorite snack ever, the young woman slowly moved towards the mountainous sweet, her breasts pounding alongside her heartbeat.
One step before it, one step before she could grab a piece and shove it into her mouth however the young woman stopped. The consequences of her last snack forcefully pressed themselves back into her consciousness: Not only she had lost most of her friends during the last few weeks, she also had to study five hours per day to prepare for college, plus special lessons in posture. And as she was still a child in her mind, her body already teased her with enough mysteries in this age - like why almost all boys stared at her in such a strange way, especially on warm days when she dressed only lightly. Not to think what would happen if she got even older. Also, she had not forgotten how her mother had scolded her after finding out she ate sweets before dinner, the fearsome memory sending a shiver down her spine.
On the other hand though, it was a cream tart…
"No!", she said to herself. The shaking of her head send her bosom in similar motion. "It was fun, but I've learned my lesson. This time, I'll behave!" In a solemn motion she turned around, her legs and bust moving towards the door.
Just before she left however she looked back once more, glancing at the fancy cake with all its adornments...
Sneaking a little bit of cream wouldn't hurt, now would it?
I've got an idea for another story in my mind already. Maybe I will write it down.
Cause I doubt it really bothers you
Just out of curiosity: What is the "minimal" age you see appropriate for such a story?
Killer story by the way. One of the hottest I've read
But thanks