The Show
By Helia Melonowski 2002


The show had been a success right up to today's guests. One man, who had 
originally been skinny and unattractive, was now a powerhouse, built with a 
sculptured physique that was sure to get him all the attention and women he 
desired. With an inquiry into the audience, a vote generated by each 
audience member's handheld remote, they voted this man to be instantaneously 
dowsed by the Change-O-Ray and...wah-laa!...he was a changed man for good.

It had been the same for the man and woman before him. They had wanted a 
better sex life. The woman had desired more from her man and the audience 
had voted and...wah-laa...suddenly, with a zap of the Change-O-Ray, the man 
was sporting a huge pipe-sized bulge in his pants. Though the woman ended up 
scoffing and stating she'd probably leave him now, it was still a successful 
show.

And who knew how the Change-O-Ray really worked. Some say it was magic. Some 
say it was science, the surprising combination of a matter generator mixed 
with neural impulses of the person the ray was aimed at. It could only be 
directed at one person at one time, and the person had to truly desire to be 
changed, and...wah-laa...the "wish", as it were, was granted.

When my turn came to step out before a live audience, before the world, I 
was a bit tense. My mother was against me appearing on national television 
basically showcasing my...well...unique form. I had already had trouble 
with...well...producers of skin magazines and sexual type movies calling me 
day and night to get me out there to "showcase" my sizeable and obviously 
money-makeable attributes. They were anxious to "assist" me in showing my 
specialties to the wanting masses, mainly wanting to get my 92-inch 
all-natural breasts on film and centerfold spread.

"Going on this ridiculous show," my mother warned, "would only enhance your 
problems tenfold."

The green light went on and the backstage person who had helped get me ready 
for the show waved me towards the stage. The crowd of 300 in the studio all 
applauded and whistled and howled, sounded like mostly men out there, as the 
emcee announced my arrival on the show.

"And here is our next guest, Helia Melonowski, a young woman with, as you 
will see, the largest...and there is no other way to put this...the largest 
pair of breasts in the United States and, quite possibly, in the entire 
world according to the Guiness Book of World Records. Her bra size is a 
whopping 46NNN with her actually breasts measure at an astounding 92-inches! 
Please welcome...Helia...Melonowski!"

I stepped out onto the stage as the audience cheered and clapped and howled. 
Twin spotlights shone on my big breasts and I blushed as they followed my 
giant jiggling fleshbombs as I walked. My nipples were erect and making 
incredibly huge dots at the end of my boobs, protruding like overripe grapes 
against the material of my blue stretch top. The top was so stretched you 
could see a hint of the floral pattern material of my immense and 
overstuffed bra cups below the blue top.

"My gosh! Helia, Helia. Welcome to WHO WANTS TO CHANGE THEIR LOOKS," the 
show's host Greg Barker said as he stood and greeted me. He offered a hand 
and I offered mine and he shook it roughly, purposely forceful, making my 
giant jugs bounce heavily in my top. "My goodness! Look at those things. You 
won't have problems breastfeeding infants when the time comes, will you?"

I opened my mouth to respond and was drowned out by the audience howling 
with laughter.

"Sit down, Helia," Greg said as he offered me a chair next to the desk he 
sat at. His eyes were glued to my chest. Suddenly the chair in which I sat 
began to rumble and vibrate, vibrate so that it made my huge boobs wobble 
and quake quite heavily in my top. "Oops. We'll turn off the Vibro-Seat." 
Greg said with a sly wink to the audience and cameras.

The audience laughed and hooted some more.

I adjusted myself in the seat that seemed a bit small for even a normal 
sized person. I figured they must make the chairs small so they can pack 
more people on the stage that was actually quite small compared to what the 
TV viewer suspects. I kind of sat there scrunched up, my huge boobs resting 
on my lap that they did typically anyway.

"Hello. How are you?" Greg said still looking at my boobs.

"My boobs don't talk," I said to him. "But I am doing fine."

The audience laughed and clapped.

"So, gosh, the first question I am sure everyone asks you is...what's it 
like to have such huge breasts?" Greg said as he looked at me for a second, 
then his eyes dropped back to my breasts.

"Well, I guess I have gotten used to being so big so don't much think about 
it anymore. Sometimes having such big breasts is a problem and 
sometimes...well...I just don't know. I actually, I guess, don't have a 
problem with being this big." I answered him.

"We have some footage of how problematic those big things are." Greg said as 
the lights in the studio drew low and a big screen behind us lit up. 
"Terrence, roll the tape."

I again blushed as a movie of me, obviously taped earlier and without my 
knowledge, showed me getting caught in the studio entrance, in the revolving 
door. The thing was small and my boobs actually got pinched in the door and 
they needed three big security guards to wrestle me out. The next scene was 
me in the dressing room and two technicians struggling to help me get my bra 
on, one pulling the straps together as the other hooked the ten-hook 
contraption. I told them I could do it but they insisted, obviously knowing 
I would be taped. Another short clip showed me mashing my breasts in the 
face of a guy, who I embarrassedly realized was my father's best friend and 
that they all would be watching. The clip (again, who knows how they got it 
or who did it) showed me mashing my boobs in the guy's face, then the next 
shot was him with dual black eyes and a fat lip yet a big smile on his face.

Still photographs flashed on the screen also, stills of me in a rather huge 
and hideous bikini, in my immense-sized bra and panties (my boobs were so 
big and heavy they partially obscured my pantied lower quarters). They also 
showed some movie footage from me at my favorite local night spot, dancing 
with about a half dozen guys who were all feeling me up, ogling my giant 
tits as I danced and laughed and showed I was obviously enjoying myself and 
the attention my huge boobs received.

I didn't know where they got the still photos or the bar footage.

"Well, it looks like those beauts can be a problem and, like you say, you 
don't seem to mind," Greg said as the screen blinked out and the lights came 
back up. I was blushing like a big red beet.

"Helia is here today because she wishes to be smaller in size in the bust 
department," Greg said as he read off a cue card. "A smaller 42D or E-cup 
size is what you are asking for. And what would you do with a smaller bust 
size, dear Helia."

"Probably not get stuck in doorways," I said and the audience laughed.

"And what if you couldn't have your wish and, say, your breasts would never 
be smaller," Greg asked.

"Well, this is concern from my doctor that, speaking of having babies, if I 
do have children my breasts could become even larger, possibly excessively 
more larger. That is at least one thing," I said nervously wondering what 
the audience would vote.

"Honey, I got to say, excessively larger...those things are already 
excessively LARGE," Greg said and the crowd laughed and howled. "And, gosh, 
imagine even bigger milk-engorged breasts. My my my."

"Have the fat broad show us her tits!" someone in the audience yelled.

I wasn't fat and I looked out into the studio audience to give the guy an 
evil look. Unfortunately I couldn't see the faces in the crowd due to the 
bright stage lights.

"Obviously the crowd grows anxious to vote. So let's not delay and get right 
down to it," Greg said as he turned to the audience and TV cameras.

"This is Helia Melonowski. She has a 92-inch bust. She seems to like them 
but wishes for smaller, more manageable breasts. Audience, it is your turn 
to vote. Does Helia get smaller breasts? Your votes will be tallied and fed 
directly to the Change-O-Ray and, in a moment, we will all see if Helia gets 
what she truly deep down wants." Greg said as the audience settled down and 
you could hear the clicks of voting buttons on remotes being pressed.

>>From the ceiling a large dome lowered, lowered directly over the area in 
which I sat. I had seen it when the one guy got the muscles and the other 
guy got the big cock.

"Okay. The votes are all in," Greg said as a little light on the side of the 
dome went from red to yellow. "Okay, Helia, here we go."

The little light went from yellow to green and I could detect a faint hum 
from the dome. I felt my skin prickle, tingle. The feeling went from my head 
down to my toes.

"Okay, a minuscule 12% of the people voted for you to have smaller breasts," 
Greg said as he read the print out that popped from his desk. "While, my 
word, a whopping 88% of the audience voted that..."

I felt a strange pressure in my chest. I actually felt my huge boobs start 
to wobble as if taking on a life of their own...and I was sitting still! My 
big nipples felt on fire.

"88% of the people want you to have breasts full passed the 100-inch mark 
and full of MILK!" Greg announced.

"Oh no no noooo!" I exclaimed as the pressure within my breasts came to a 
head, well...came to my tits is more like it...and I placed my hands over my 
bulging boobs and cried out as they pushed forward, swelled, ballooned, 
grew, fattened, began to gain more weight and more girth. They weren't only 
growing but also, much to my surprise, becoming increasingly full with what 
I could only figure was a ton of milk.

"Yes, Helia, the audience has voted and you not only get to keep the 
enormous knockers you seem to love, but also get to be several times bigger 
with them gorged full of mother's milk ta boot." Greg said with a whistle as 
he watched my tits expand right in front of him.

"No! Wait! Thisisn'twhatIwanted!" I huffed as I tried to contain my 
swelling boobs. It had always been impossible to even cradle my huge boobs 
and now, with them rapidly increasing in size and becoming even larger, it 
was an effort in futility. They pushed out from under my arms, expanded out 
on the sides, pushing my top, stretching it further and further.

"Ugh!" I gasped as my bra, able to compensate for a little extra flesh, got 
to its extended size limit. The straps dug into my shoulders and back. I 
could feel the hook poking into my flesh.

"Looks like your big ole 46NNN is really struggling. It really must be 
saying NNNnnn trying to hold that massive breasts back," Greg said as the 
microphone picked up fabric tearing, both my overstuffed bra and 
overstretched blue top. The sound reverberated through the studio and the 
crowd cheered and clapped.

"And, well, that ole bra has to give up the ghost because you, Helia, were 
our special-picked guest for tonight's show where we open the voting lines 
to America's viewers," Greg said with a wide smile. "And the viewer's who 
voted at home and also agreed YOU, Miss Melonowski, should have even larger 
tummy-slappers!"

I felt another jolt, another wave of pressure surge through my chest. My bra 
blew beneath my top, freeing my ballooning breasts. They bulged obscenely in 
my top and pushed it to its final breaking point. My top shredded at the 
side seams and parted as my huge, now-naked boobs spilled out for all to 
see. The swelling giants flowed over my lap, over my knees, heavy, 
oh-so-heavy, pulling me out of my seat.

"Hmm, can you imagine folks, resting on top of those roly-poly soft 
mattresses?" Greg said as I struggled, now lying atop my growing boobs. I 
couldn't see them but I could feel my nipples, that I had no idea how big 
they were now, were squirting warm liquid. I could feel the dampness 
underneath me, then noticed the wood floor of the stage gleaming with a 
whitish liquid. I was milking!

"Stop! Please stop! They are getting too big! I can'ttake much more! I feel 
likeunghthey feel ready to explode!" I cried as I was now lying sprawled 
out across my titanic-sized breasts that continued to expand and swell 
across the stage. My left breast expanded and nudged Mr. Barker's desk and 
he was suddenly getting out of the way as the chairs and the desk were 
pushed aside.

"Wow! The voters really want you LARGE!" Greg said as he, with microphone, 
moved around in front of me. The spotlights shone now partially into the 
audience, staying on my ballooning breasts.

"Plee-ease! Turn the Change-O-Ray off! I am getting too BIG!"

The people, all guys as if I shouldn't have expected anything different, in 
the front two rows cleared out as my tits enlarged, spread into and against 
their chairs. I grew larger and larger, rising up and up. Soon more rows 
were clearedand I get getting bigger and bigger.

"Please! I am going to burst!" I cried but then, with one rapid surge of my 
swelling milk-engorged colossal breasts, my cry was muffled as my 
breastflesh mashed against my face. My butt hit the ceiling and I felt all 
four walls of the studio pinching my breasts in. "Mmmmfff..oh 
pleasetoobig"

A few minutes later, as I lay there pinned between my massive boobs and the 
ceiling of the television studio, someone opened the skylight that was a few 
feet from my head. I breathed in cool fresh air. A guy appeared near the 
open skylight and dropped a little television monitor down so I could view 
it.

I gasped.

There on the screen was a view of the outside of the television studio. 
Outside doors and windows were open and bulging from the openings were 
bulges of taut pink flesh, MY FLESH! MY GIANT BREASTFLESH!

Greg Barker appeared on the screen, smiling at the camera and the viewers. 
"Good night, folks. And stop by if you need a glass of milk before bed."

END

Send all correspondence to me, Helia, at: bounce_69@hotmail.com



