Greetings, all you right-wing conservative types who have never read an 
erotic story in your life, let alone enjoyed such an experience! We'd 
like to warn you ahead of time that this is your worst enemy! Yes, this 
is one of those dirty stories you hear about and are trying to blindly 
ban! Here's what you can expect in the following ribald ditty:
* Two consenting adults - in compromising positions!
* Rapidly enlarging breasts - a non-threatening fantasy element that 
cannot be duplicated in real life!
* A plot - something rarely seen in stories of this type!
* Character development - by the end, you might even remember the girl's 
name!
* A sense of humor!
So, if you're opposed to all those things, by all means, do not read the 
following story! It will only incite you to create new, uncostitutional 
bills that will be made into new, unconstitutional laws! And when you 
shut us down, don't forget to lock up all those people who keep 
circulating that big book where people procreate through the ages, 
occasionally  kill one another and generally have fantastic, barely 
believable adventures - it's called The Bible!
***
REMOTE POSSIBILITES 
By sievert@io.com and Inflate123@aol.com

Rachel was quite pleased with her new shape.  Turning to view her 
profile in the mirror, she tossed her mane of red hair over a shoulder 
and placed one hand against her stomach, flattening out the button-down 
shirt in an attempt to make her figure more apparent.  For the first 
time in her life, it made a difference.

Rachel had always been underendowed.  Actually, that was the polite way 
to put it; a less generous term might be nonexistant. Many feminists 
might say that that sort of thing didn't matter, but it did to Rachel.  
She had always longed, just once, to wear and fill a bikini top.  
Another fond desire was to be able to have cleavage while wearing an 
evening dress, something most women took for granted.  If asked if her 
life would be any less fulfilling without these simple pleasures, the 
admittedly already-attractive Rachel would have been forced to publicly 
admit it wasn't all that important.  But, deep down, she felt it was.

Breast implants had been a serious consideration for some time, but just 
as she had convinced herself to undergo the surgery, the silicone scare 
had struck.  Sick of living with rude nicknames and having no desire to 
go back to the endless line of unnaturally padded bras, she nosed 
around.  As luck would have it, a young doctor, full of ideas and 
opinions hard up against the grain of most of his peers, entered the 
equation.  He firmly believed in a new implant that had taken years to 
develop, but had been stalled by the delays of testing and federal 
approval.  Faced with years of red tape before his revolutionary 
advances would be accepted, he surreptitiously started the search for a 
willing test subject ready to try something new.

And Rachel had turned out to be that person. An almost impossibly petite 
redhead with a charming smile, Rachel surprised the doctor with the 
speed of her acceptance of his proposal. The surgery proved to be 
remarkably simple. It had only been two days since the operation, yet 
there were no visible scars or pain. She was already up and about in her 
room, packing her belongings and getting ready to leave.

Her new breasts were everything she had hoped for.  After viewing them 
every concievable way in the mirror, she decided the term 'perky' best 
described her new B-cup shape.  Slipping on her very first bra with 
actual cups had been a thrilling delight that resulted in several more 
minutes of admiring herself before getting dressed.  She knew they were 
nearly total prosthetics, but there was sensation, albeit somewhat 
diminished, as well as motion. Prodding them revealed nothing out of the 
ordinary except that they were somewhat cold to the touch. Some mild 
numbness, Rachel thought. Only logical. Beyond that, they looked 
perfect. 

Rachel was finishing packing when she noticed the small remote sitting 
by the side of her bed.  It featured one arrow-shaped button pointing up 
and another arrow pointing down.  She picked it up for further 
inspection. No brand name or company logo adorned the contraption, and 
the television remote was on the table next to the vase of crysanthiums.  
Shrugging, Rachel tossed the orphan clicker onto the desk.

As she continued, a faint hissing noise slowly became audible.  Unable 
to place it, Rachel stopped her packing to listen.  It wasn't the 
radiator, she thought; a bit warm for that, anyway.  She also realized 
that the area beneath the base of her bra suddenly began to itch.  Oddly 
enough, it also seemed to be a bit tighter than when she had first put 
it on.  Thinking about how nice it was to actually be able to consider a 
bra "tight," Rachel turned to the mirror for one last look, smirking at 
her sudden narcissism.

Taking a deep breath, she posed coquettishly with a rougeish smile.  
Letting out a sigh, she started to turn back to her suitcase when 
something caught her attention.  Looking down, she realized that her 
chest seemed to be a bit bigger than just moments before.  Post-
operation swelling was possible, but at this late a date? And what about 
that hissing?

Placing both hands gingerly on her new front, Rachel made a surprising 
discovery.  The hissing was coming from her!  By tilting her head to one 
side, she could just make out what sounded like a slow air leak on a 
bicycle tire.  Looking deeper into the mirror, Rachel became sure of it.  
There was no doubt about it, she was getting bigger at a very slow rate.  
"I, my God...they're, I'm, my...I'm...inflatable!"

She stood there in stunned amazement for a moment; then, all of a 
sudden, it clicked.  So that's what the doctor had been talking about, 
she thought to herself.  This is more than just a new set, they're 
adjustable.  And here I thought he was just talking about *future* 
versions of the prosthetic!

Connecting a third part to the puzzle, Rachel walked over to the desk 
and grabbed the small remote.  Giving the downward pointing button a 
tap, she listened intently.  Sure enough, the hissing stopped.

Unbuttoning her shirt, Rachel nearly squealed with glee.  Her chest had 
appearently increased up to around a C-cup, straining her now too-small 
bra.  They still felt perfectly natural, if a bit light for their size, 
and had a reasonable movement.  Stuffing the remote in her purse, Rachel 
beamed, and headed out the door.

***

"Honey, I'm off to the grocery store!" Rachel called from the doorway.  
Ed gave a slight wave of acknowledgement, glasses reflecting the 
computer screen in front of him, fingers typing furiously.  Rachel 
smiled.  Ed had become incredibly affectionate after he had seen the new 
Rachel, but he still could become so engrossed in work that the entire 
world seemed to fade away for him.  It was more than likely that he'd be 
on there for a few hours...which gave her just enough time to set up her 
plan.

Sure enough, she had time to not only buy but also sort, shelve and eat 
some of the groceries before Ed had managed to separate himself from the 
glowing monitor.  Ed pushed himself away from the desk, slightly dazed, 
and entered the bedroom, where he found Rachel wearing old sweat pants 
and a faded oversized shirt, reading a novel.

"Hello, dear," said Rachel, not looking up.  "Get a lot done?"

"Well, yeah, actually - I managed to fully encode and implement three 
more pages of the site, and I remembered to write a nasty letter to 
Senator Exon."

"Ooh, implementing pages..." cooed Rachel with mock passion.  "I love it 
when you talk technical.  I hope your work hasn't taken too much out of 
you?"

With that, Rachel stood and removed her sweatshirt, revealing a skin-
tight covering of black latex underneath.  As she shimmied seductively 
out of her bottoms in front of a stunned Ed, it became apparent that the 
top was part of a bodysuit, and her entire body, save the hands and 
feet, was covered in a thin layer of rubber, a thin silver zipper 
running down her side, with its pull resting at her ankle.

"It was on sale at the grocery store," she smirked.

When Ed finally managed to speak, he mumbled, "You should go shopping 
there more often." His pulse was racing, and Rachel knew it.  She 
reveled in the playful power her new body possessed.

As Ed approached her, Rachel took a step back.  "Ed, there's something 
else I haven't shown you," she offered coyly.  "I know you like the 
results of the surgery as they are, but...well, there's more."

"More?" he asked, surprised.  "What do you mean, 'more?'"  He scanned 
her body quickly.  "How much more could there be?" 

"That's what we're going to find out," she smiled, producing the odd 
remote from the rear of the nightstand drawer.  "I didn't want to tell 
you so you wouldn't worry, but my surgery was something of a...beta 
test.  I'm the first person with a special kind of implant that the 
doctor promised would be a new standard in a few years' time.  I wanted 
to wait for a special occasion and...well, grocery shopping was a good 
enough excuse.  Push one of those arrows, and you'll understand."

Ed cocked one curious eyebrow and, ever the optimist, cautiously tapped 
the up arrow once.  The hissing sound Rachel had heard in her recovery 
room returned, and this time she was able to witness the transformation.  
Slowly and steadily she watched and, this time aware of what was going 
on, actually felt her bosom swell.  Her inflating breasts pressed 
against the latex evenly and slowly, expanding under the stretchy black 
layer with controlled force.  She was well on her way from appealing B 
to perfectly poised C.

Ed, meanwhile, was obviously having trouble breathing.

"How did...what did you...was it this...umm..." Ed's brain froze.  All 
he finally managed to convey was a resounding "Huh?"

"I told you there was more," she laughed, inhaling deeply and arching 
her back to make even more of her expanded assets.  They were now big 
enough to force the catsuit to pocket under her bosom instead of fitting 
her form all the way down.  "The doctor explained the process as an 
untested theory, and I really didn't expect this perk in my own surgery, 
but I have to admit, I love it.  Don't you?" She reached out for his 
arm, and he dropped the remote.  She placed his trembling hand on her 
swollen left breast and leaned her weight onto the bed.  Ed was stuck 
between trying to be polite and trying to function.  Ten minutes ago, 
she had been her normal gorgeous self; now, there was a latex goddess 
before him, pumped up in all the right places.  He gently massaged her 
single breast, feeling tension and a unique kind of...light density, 
something he'd never felt before.  Rachel just closed her eyes and 
smiled.  Ed nearly tripped over himself as Rachel drew him onto the bed.

"Does it..." Ed swallowed rather convulsively.  "Are you in any...is 
there much feeling?  I mean..."  He gently pressed upwards against her 
breast, stroking it as reverently as if he were touching Ming china.

"Yeah, there's--oh, that feels good!--there's still quite a bit of me 
involved with those things you're fondling.  The...'addition' is mererly 
air.  How do they feel to you?" Leaning a bit closer to where he had sat 
down on the covers, she nudged him with the edge of her burgeoning new 
front, grinning in delight at being able to do so.

Shifting his gaze from where it had been riveted for the last few 
minutes, he looked up.  "The latex makes it kinda hard to tell, but it 
feels real to me!  Rather firm...but you always were."  She gave him a 
mock frown that had an infectious glee bubbling under the surface.  "I'm 
amazed it moves so naturally!" Once again he poked her gently, watching 
the slight shimmy that ran through her new torso.

"Now, you don't have to be quite so gentle!" said Rachel.  "It's not 
like I'm going to break.  It's been weeks since the surgery, and 
according to the doctor, all of his theories are officially tested.  I'm 
in no pain, and," she smiled, "I'm ready for action!"

So saying, she lunged forward suddenly from her spot on the bed. 
Standing up just enough so that her shoulders were about even with Ed's 
head, she tackled him soundly, the stretched latex squeaking merrily as 
she wrapped her arms about his neck and bore him over backwards.

Ed was stunned, to say the least.  Rachel had always been rather 
exuberant, but tonight she was positively grow...er, glowing.  He knew 
that she had always harbored a desire to have something more than the 
smidgen that nature had alloted her, but he had never known how much it 
meant.  Of course the fact that he was now up to his ears in her new 
assets also might have something to do with his mental state.  She 
rubbed up and down quickly, once or twice, pushing his glasses up onto 
his forehead with her balloons.  His eyes, impossibly enough, opened 
even wider.

Throwing one leg over his, Rachel pulled herself astraddle and slowly 
drew back.  Ed's now revealed face had what could best be described as a 
silly grin.  After a few quick blinks he refocused, pulling his glasses 
back into place.  "Anything to say?" she inquired archly, leaning 
forward so he could barely see her face over the curve of her bust.

After a few moments of running about madly in circles, Ed's sense of 
humor finally caught up.  "Hmm...my very own Barbie doll!  And life 
size, no less..." Rachel squirmed off of him, hopping to her feet on the 
bed, then bouncing up and down once or twice before thumping down 
solidly on the floor.  The shaking of her enlarged, bubbly features was 
stunning to watch.

"Y'know, I never used to mind going to the pool or gym the way I was," 
she remarked conversationally as she reached down and fondled the 
remote.  "I have to admit, I was always a bit jealous of the girls there 
who could fill out their shirts a bit better than I could.  The odd 
thing was, I found them a bit on the attractive side as well."  Seeing 
Ed's look of surprise as he sat up, she continued.  "No, not that...just 
a sort of envy.  I was more interested in their bustlines than anything 
else.  Sometimes in the locker room at the gym I'd catch myself looking 
at a bra bigger than any I could wear and fantasizing about being able 
to.  In a funny sort of way, that fantasy kinda turned me on.  And 
now..."  Turning, she reached out and twirled the dimmer switch.  The 
lights faded to an even glow.  Looking at the remote in her hand, she 
tapped the up arrow once.

And twice.

And a third time.

"And now," she repeated with a wicked smile, "the fantasy becomes 
reality."

Ed watched in awe as his wife, a formerly athletically shaped 
individual, made her chest swell bigger with each breath.  A slight 
hissing was barely audible to him from where he sat.  The latex pinged 
and popped as it moved to accomodate her growing form.  Rachel looked 
downward with an almost worshipful expression, watching as her feet 
dissapeared from view.  "Oh, Ed.  You wouldn't *believe* how this feels!  
I'm growing!" She was having trouble finding the words to describe it to 
him, but could tell from the look on his face that he wanted to know.  " 
I can feel the suit getting tighter against me, but it's not hurting at 
all.  There's just a kind of...bubbly feeling to it.  Sorta like the 
feel of champagne against your lips, you know?"  She squeaked one hand 
along one of the softball-sized protubrances on her chest.  "I'd say I'm 
a triple D now! It's so weird...I guess this is what balloons feel like 
this when they're filling up.  I'm blowing up bigger and *bigger!*"  

Ed realized that the growth itself was starting to turn her on as he saw 
her nipples standing out clearly against the snug fabric of the suit.  
She continued to grow, slowly, the glued seams under her arms pulling 
forward slightly.  With a last soft hiss, almost a caressing sound, the 
inflation stopped, leaving her with a ballooned bosom the size of twin 
volleyballs.  Perky to the point of defying gravity, they swayed 
ponderously as she experimentally shook her shoulders.

Staring at Ed, Rachel slowly ran her hands down her hips, smoothing the 
already ripple free latex.  "And has this little boy..."  She pouted her 
lips as she outrageously mimiced an old pose perfected by Marilyn Monroe 
and placed her hands on her knees, squeezing her already oversized bosom 
to even greater heights.  "...been *good* today?"  

With that, she broke into a wildly overacted nightclub dance, hamming it 
up the whole way, bouncing vigorously.  Ed sat with his mouth open.  The 
things people will do in their bedrooms, he thought to himself after a 
moment.  The only thing missing was a pole to twirl around and even that 
she made a go at, draping herself around the back of a chair.  This 
didn't quite compensate however, and she went over the top of it with a 
thump, bringing a restrained snicker from Ed, who tried to hide it as 
best he could.  The innocent look he gave her when she came back up was 
enough to start her off as well, trying to suppress her characteristic 
snort/giggle by putting her hands over her nose.  This broke the dam for 
Ed, who had to take his glasses off to wipe away a tear of mirth after a 
few moments.

"What's so funny?" Ed managed after a moment.

"You had to be there..." Rachel replied, which set them both off again.

Giggling, she walked across the room, sliding into his lap with a 
sensuous squeak and dropping the remote over his shoulder.  Nudging her 
extremely pronounced front up against him and wrapping her arms about 
his, she commented softly, "This is the first time something's ever come 
between us."  He glanced down at the twin spheres that held her at elbow 
length, pressed up firmly against his chest.  Her warmth pervaded them 
and he could feel the heat from her exertions radiating through the 
latex.

Throat dry, Ed stared back, then smiled like the sun coming up.  "Well, 
then, I guess we'll have to do something about that.  Where's my 
pocketknife..?"

"Hey!"

"Kidding!"  Ed suddenly shifted the balance of power and eased Rachel 
onto the bed.  Her swollen bosom stayed eerily balanced atop her torso, 
nipples now clearly visible through the thin rubber.  "I think we're 
going to have to get used to that," said Rachel softly.  "As long as I'm 
all pumped up like this, they're
going to defy gravity a bit." 

"I don't mind, really," smiled Ed.  "There's something humorously erotic 
about having my own real-life inflatable doll.  I could get to like 
this."

"Rowwrr.  C'mere, you smooth-talking rascal."

Ed straddled her and leaned over to kiss her parted lips.

But as his weight shifted onto her body, her weight in turn pressed on 
the bed--or, more specifically, on the remote buried between the 
comforter and her back.  Silently, the device registered one up arrow 
press...then another...then another.  The commands started to stack up.

The telltale hissing started again.  "Well! You certainly are eager to 
see what the 'new me' can do, aren't you?" The pressure in her chest 
built slowly but satisfyingly steadily, and she smiled with the look of 
someone who's just achieved snuggly warmth.  "Just be careful how many 
times you hit that, lover..."

"Hit what?" replied Ed.

"The remote, of course.  Don't go overboard pressing buttons on your new 
toy."

"But..." he started, "I'm not.  I don't have the remote."

"What?" Rachel suddenly became acutely aware of a jabbing pain in her 
back.  Still hissing, she motioned for Ed to move off her, and quickly.  
Turning and looking down, all she saw were her expanding breasts, not-
so-quietly inflating at pace.  Leaning over them, she found the remote 
on the bed where she'd been laying, picked it up and examined it.

"Oh my God."

"What? What?" Ed did not like the sound of urgency in Rachel's voice.  
His eyes focused on the remote.

The up arrow was completely embedded inside the casing.  The button was 
stuck, flush.

"Turn it off.  Hit the other key!" Ed offered helpfully.

"I can't!" she said, stabbing pointlessly at the down arrow.  "It's not 
working! The up button is totally jammed!"

While the remote had decided life as a paperweight would be more 
interesting, the implants continued to work as advertised--and then 
some.  Rachel was ballooning to great proportions, a bulbous multi-cup 
bosom filling out on her once A-cup frame.  The growth continued 
relentlessly in time to the hissing accompaniment.  Rachel realized with 
horror that, because the remote was jammed, it was still registering 
"up" hits.  She was blowing up nonstop.  She had to act fast.

Her first instinct was to remove the latex suit.  "Get this off, get it 
off!" she screamed, straining her right arm to reach the zipper at her 
ankle.  Bending over was easy; not suffocating on her inflating 
mammaries was the difficult part.  Ed scrambled for the zipper and 
started to run it up the length of her leg.

>>TOK<<

"What was that?" Rachel asked.

"Looks like the remote's not the only thing that's broken," said Ed.  
"One of the zipper teeth just committed suicide; now I can't move the 
thing up *or* down."

"No, no, no..." Rachel moaned.  "This can't be happening...this wasn't 
supposed to happen!" She gingerly put her free hand on the side of her 
inflating breast.  She could feel the steadily mounting pressure inside, 
feel herself physically blowing up, the pungent latex perfectly 
mimicking the properties and texture of a party balloon.  
Experimentally, Rachel pressed in slightly, gauging the density.  Her 
fingers sunk in slightly.  I'm not full yet, she thought.  I still have 
time.

"Maybe I can fix the remote or something," Ed muttered as he glared at 
the offending item.

"Ed, you can't even fix the screen door.  How do you expect to 
repair...this!" Rachel snarled, her massive orbs shaking in time with 
her outburst.  While they still had movement, it was far less than 
before and the overall shapes had begun to assume those of balls stuck 
to her chest.  Her nipple outline was no longer visible; whether it was 
due to the loss of the mood or the stretching of her skin was impossible 
to tell.  Rachel fought hard to squelch a rising feeling of panic, and 
questions formed in the back of her mind.  What if they don't stop? What 
if I just keep getting bigger? And what happens when I *can't* get any 
bigger? She couldn't consider it.  She had to stay in control, even if 
some parts of her weren't.

Straightening up from her futile tugging on the zipper, she winced as 
the latex squeaked loudly and puckered deeply around her waist, under 
the breasts and beneath her armpits.  It only took a second to realize 
what was wrong, and she reached up to the high collar and eased it out 
with one finger, allowing air to seep in beneath the sealed rubber.  The 
wrinkles around her torso eased, but her ever-expanding front had 
started to pull up all the slack, and standing straight was beginning to 
give her a minor wedgie.  In these sorts of situations latex is not 
known for its forgiving qualities, and she spent a moment digging and 
pulling.

"Ed!"

Ed glanced up from his prying at the depressed button with the edge of a 
dime and stared in astonishment.  His wife, the woman who he had used to 
call 'Skeeter' back when they were first dating, much to her irritation, 
stood before him looking more voluptuous than all but the biggest of the 
silicone queens.  Impossible curves met his eyes as they skittered over 
her, not certain where to settle.

"Stop playing with the remote and call the doctor.  He built 
these...these things!" Rachel gestured at her expanding breasts.  "He'll 
know how to turn them off.  He's got to!" She snapped her fingers in 
front of Ed's nose.  "C'mon, hurry up!"

"Yeah! Yeah, phone, yeah." Ed vaulted from the bed, nearly braining 
himself on the half-open door as he tried to run out into the hall while 
still looking back at Rachel.  The sound of his feet was distant thunder 
on the stairs followed by a crash of kitchen chairs as he slipped on the 
linoleum.

"Stop already!" Rachel whined to her own chest as she took a firm hold 
of the crotch of her suit and pulled down, her bosom getting in the way 
as she did small dance of frustration in the middle of the room.  It did 
little good, for as soon as she let go, her swollen chest bounced 
upwards, yanking everything with it and causing her to squeak in dismay.   
The suit had to go, she thought, as she eyed its well-packed, rounded 
confines jutting out almost horizontally under her chin.  As she grew 
larger, the suit grew tighter, the pulling forward of the arm and 
shoulder material was getting uncomfortable and, worst of all, it was 
becoming difficult to breathe.  The pressure of the latex was only 
restricting her breasts anyway, pressing in on them and making it more 
likely for them to...

The small voice in the back of her head started to internally verbalize 
her nightmares. 

(I'm not going to make it...I'm going to pop like a balloon...I'm going 
to explode)

She stopped herself again, blocking out her fear.  If the zipper was 
stuck, she reasoned, then the only thing to do to keep herself from 
bursting was to cut it off.  The image of the scissors in the bathroom 
flashed through her mind.  As she turned toward the bathroom, she caught 
sight of herself in the mirror.

Ed's difficulty in leaving the room was somewhat justified, she thought 
to herself in astonishment as she stared at the overinflated latex toy 
that gazed back at her from the mirror.  Pumped with gas that she was 
helpless to stop, her titanic breasts started at her chin and went down 
almost to her waist, deep ripples in the material under that giving mute 
testimony to the strain.  Gently she rubbed one hand along the
smooth and bulging side of her chest, almost in a reverie.  The 
awkwardness of moving her restricted arm brought her back to reality, 
however, as did the discomfort.

The bathroom door proved to be a bit of a problem as soon as she got 
there.  Designed to fit beween the confines of a closet door and a 
window, it was a few inches narrower than a standard doorway.  Normally 
this was not a difficulty and went unnoticed until Rachel bumped into it 
and stopped, her breasts touching either side of the door.  She paused a 
moment in disbelief, then bumped forward again, only to have her motion 
arrested once more.  Turning to the side wouldn't help; her chest had 
inflated so far out in front of her that she was as deep as she was 
wide.  The panic started to swell in her again, almost as fast as her 
ballooning breasts.  (It's hopeless...I'm too full...just forcing myself 
through the doorway will cause me to burst) But the nerve-wracking 
hissing was enough of an impetus for her to back up a foot or two, then 
rush forward, popping through the door frame with a squeal of synthetic 
fabric.

Rachel spent only a fraction of a second looking into the tiny mirror 
over the sink.  It was far too small to show anything more than a bit of 
her now.  She found herself agreeing with her inner tormentor.  "I *am* 
going to explode," she muttered to herself.  "If I don't get free, I 
*will* pop!" Puffing, she dug through the drawers, cursing as she 
discovered how difficult it was to do with over three feet of breast to 
get in the way.  The simplest solution was to bend almost all the way 
over and yank the drawer out.  Further wedging was an unfortunate side 
effect, but it was better than the alternative. The scissors finally put 
in an appearance from behind the toothpaste, the tip gleaming a 
stainless bright in the dimness of the drawer.  She pounced on it with a 
cry of triumph.

(Getting bigger...too big...it's not stopping)

Looking at herself, she realized the mirror would be little help.  All 
that was visible was her face and a swell of latex creeping up towards 
her chin.  Looking downward was of little use either, as even bending 
over was insufficient to see her feet.  Manuvering around, she distantly 
felt the bottoms of her pressurized breasts touch the faucet.  The blade 
of the scissor fit into her palm nicely as she held it aloft in front of 
her face.  One false move, she thought, and these things could do a 
world of hurt.  (I can feel the pressure building.  I can't take much 
more.) Gotta stay calm. 

"Time to let you guys out," she said somewhat hysterically, as she 
plunged the tip into the latex bed beneath it.  

The suit parted easily, the low-resistance latex peeling back and down.  
"Waaaaigh!" was all Rachel had time for as her cleavage made a concerted 
rush out of the newly formed gap, boiling up at her face.  The suit 
practically exploded away, her arms shrugging back at the release of 
tension.  Her breasts seemed to burst from their confines, smacking into 
the mirror and her chin as her back bumped into the towel rack.  All 
that was visible in her reflection was her panicked eyes staring at her 
over a rising sea of swollen pink.  The pressure surged and rolled wihin 
her, driving strange feelings even as horror threatened to overcome her.   
Clutching at the sides of her chest, she realized she couldn't even 
reach the further wall, much less get her hands around or under them.  
She was too late; her doomed inner voice was right.  "Edddd! I'm gonna 
explode! HELP ME!"

Panting with the exertion, Rachel suddenly realized something.  It was 
quiet.  The hissing was gone.  Turning her head, she rested one ear 
against an upflung breast.  Nothing.

"Oh, my goodness." She turned her head even further to see Ed, standing 
in the narrow door, staring in at her, a slight twitch under one eyelid 
being the only thing moving.  In one hand he held the remote, in the 
other, its batteries.

"Oh, Ed, it's stopped! They've stopped, I'm not gonna pop," Rachel 
gasped out, her arms wrapped about her new front.  Even though things 
were no longer getting bigger, she was still wedged into the bathroom, 
her chest resting in the sink and pushing her solidly into the wall.  As 
for Ed, he was not quite sure exactly what to feel.  His wife was stuck 
in the bathroom by her own body, her huge breasts, each the size of a 
beanbag, stuffed in firmly. 

After a minute or two of total silence, her calm returned.  "So, the 
doctor said to pull the batteries?" Rachel managed 

"Yeah.  He said to take them out and it would stop sending signals to 
your...you." Ed shook his head once or twice.  "Rather obvious, really.  
The automatic fail safe probably kicked in first, however.  You were 
listening to yourself before I got the chance to take them out." Ed 
reached out and rapped the side of her breast with a knuckle, causing a 
shimmy throughout the taut surface.  "Lord, you're _huge_."

Standing before him was a swollen form that, incredibly, now belonged to 
his wife.  Her overinflated implants resembled pink punch balls that had 
been pumped to twice their normal size.  Rachel's extraction from her 
predicament was easier than either of them thought, although the wall 
hangings in the bathroom were askew.  With Ed pulling and Rachel 
providing directions--"Does your hand need to be right *there*?"--she 
made it to the door and gingerly passed through one breast at a time as 
she went sideways.  Pulling the second one out made a noise much like a 
cork coming out of a bottle.  Rachel stood there and shimmied for a 
moment, her arms only reaching halfway around her enormous new front.

"The doc says he'll be right over.  He was leaving when I came up the 
stairs," Ed mentioned.  "And apparently, you've got the wrong remote or 
something.  He has a better one he's bringing over." He stared at 
Rachel's blank, sunken expression.  "What's the matter? You're safe 
now."

Rachel sniffled a bit and sat down on the bed, blinking in surprise when 
she realized her breasts were in her lap and still rose high enough to 
almost touch her chin.  "I'm sorry.  I wanted this to be perfect for you 
and now I'm some sort of inflated freak.  I'll have to get these taken 
out."

Ed wrinkled his eyebrows.  "Why? You told me yourself that this was a 
test case.  There are always going to be a few problems with that sort 
of thing, and I'd say you were pretty lucky that this was the only side 
effect. Besides, the doctor sounded like he knows what to do when he 
gets here; he's apparently prepared for such emergencies."

Rachel looked up.  "You mean...you mean you don't mind me looking like 
this?"

"Well, it is a bit on the silly side, but it's only temporary.  Rachel," 
Ed continued gently, "you were the happiest I've seen you in years when 
you came home from the hospital.  One or two minor setbacks," he said, 
eyeing her lap with a smirk, "...or major ones, for that matter, 
shouldn't stop you from looking the way you want to look."

"Okay, sermon over," he said  "C'mon, lemme help you get the rest of 
that latex off.  Besides," he added with a lilt, "the doctor won't be 
here for another hour or so..."

Rachel looked at him with mild astonishment. "You're not seriously 
suggesting..?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but *I'm* certainly in the mood."

She smiled lopsidedly and bobbed her head in that isn't-that-just-like-
you-men manner. "You're sick, Ed.  Very sick."

Ed looked ingenuous.  "It took you three years to figure that out?  I 
mean, after all, this is *science*."

Rachel wiped one eye--reaching up and around to do so--then bolted 
straight with a memory. "Oh, wow...I hope the rest of the girls don't 
have problems like these."

"What other girls?"

"The rest who volunteered to try these out.  We'll have to warn the 
doctor about it."

"When he gets here.  When he gets here."

An hour is a long time when people are occupied.

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