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A transformation story by Bub(salub)
Also check out my non-expansion stories at https://www.deviantart.com/bubsalub1 and https://www.literotica.com/authors/bubsalub/works/stories

	I write this account as a word of warning. Though it sounds implausible - I would not have believed it had it not happened to me - I assure you that every word is true. 

 	-- Month One --

	One night, a little over a year ago, I was occupying myself after work with my usual hobby - I say hobby, more like "obsession," or "addiction," - of scouring the internet for new images and stories related to my vast list of varied and often contradictory fetishes. These fetishes included, but were not limited to breast expansion, ass expansion, sex change, futanari, inflation, female muscle growth, weight gain/ssbbw, female dick growth, multiple breasts, pussy growth, mini-giantess/height growth, shortstack/shrinking, hyper pregnancy, and so on. By "scouring the internet" I meant searching every archive and art website I could for content I hadn't viewed yet. I visited The Overflowing Bra, DeviantArt, Reddit, 4Chan, Rule34, Literotica, e-hentai, nhentai, and probably some others I can't remember. I did the same thing almost every day, sometimes for hours each day. 
	Like I said, it was an obsession. 
	On one of these sites, I came across an odd story. The title was "No Comments." When I clicked on it, I was greeted with the following text:
	"All right, you ungrateful perverts, I've had it. Enough is enough. Week after week I pour my heart into my smut stories just to give you some whacking-off material, and maybe one in a thousand of you is grateful enough to leave a comment. It takes me hours to craft a single story, and I don't receive any payment for it. Not one cent. The only reward I get is when one of you perverts comments to tell me that you liked it. When one of you tells me what you liked about it, call that an extra tip. But 99.9% of you greedy, horny beggars consume and give nothing in return. It would take you less than a minute to say 'I really liked the part where she came just from feeling her oversized labia dragging across the carpet,' or 'I thought it was hilarious when her boyfriend tripped over her boobs and landed face-first in her ass,' but I guess it's hard to type when you've got one hand clawed around your dick, or your fingers shoved so far up your pussy you can feel your womb. Well, I've had it. I'm sick and tired of you freeloaders getting away with consuming everything and giving nothing. So I curse you. That's right, just by reading this story, you're now cursed! Every time you jack off or flick the bean to a story, drawing, choose-your-own-adventure, ai-generated image, comic, cosplay, etc. for the rest of your life without commenting, your body will change to be like the thing that turned you on the most about that image. Whack it to some huge boobs? You're growing huge boobs. Spank the monkey to a catgirl? Hope you like pointy ears and a tail. Finger yourself to some shortstack porn? Good luck, midget. The only way to stop and reverse the changes will be to comment on everything you masturbated to. You need to show the creators how much you appreciate their work. Hope you're diligent or have a good memory. So long, you freeloading perverts. Have a good life." 
	And that was it. No story, just an angry rant about cursing the reader. I thought the concept would make a good story, and I probably would have jacked it to a story about someone reading that curse and their body changing, but this was too short to even get stiff to. 
	It did spark my guilt, a bit. I tried to comment on the next few pictures I liked, but soon I forgot all about it in my haze of arousal. I'm not even sure what I masturbated to that night. 
	So time passed. I probably would have figured it out sooner, but the curse was slow, and subtle. My first sign that something was off was about a week later. I got out of the shower to shave, only to realize that I had no stubble. This was very odd, because I'd been capable of growing a full beard for almost twenty years by that point. I decided to keep a watch on it, but I was running late for work. Over the next week, I was feeling good about myself because I was setting personal bests in all my morning runs. The 5k that used to take me about 28 minutes now took me only 24 minutes. Where I was only doing a max of 30 push-ups, I was now topping at over 50! I attributed it to my new protein powder. My waist trimmed up, and I had a six-pack for the first time in a decade!
	However, I also noticed that my nipples were getting sore during my run. I assumed that it was because I was running faster. After my shower, I went to rub Vaseline on them, and noticed that my chest felt soft and puffy. I wondered if I was growing moobs, but that didn't make sense. I had lost the fat around my waist, so why would I grow it in my chest?
	Over the previous week, my pants had grown exceedingly tight as well. At first I thought I had put some extra muscle on around my thighs and felt good about it. Then I noticed that my cuffs weren't reaching my shoes. I grabbed a tape measure and found that I had grown two whole inches! I was now 5' 10", a height I had always envied. 
	There were a host of other changes as well. My hair had grown long enough for another haircut, even though I'd just had it trimmed. The hair near the scalp was more reddish than my normal brown. Not only had my facial hair not grown in over a week, but my body hair was falling out, too. 
	And probably strangest of all, but during my nightly porn sessions, my dick had grown larger. It had always been about 6" erect, but now was closer to 8". The height was one thing. People grew. But dicks didn't just grow longer, no matter what the late-night pill ads said. 
	I scheduled an appointment with my doctor. Because it wasn't an emergency, the nearest appointment wasn't for two weeks. The health care in this country sucks. 
	Over the next two weeks, I continued to change. My muscles continued to grow, and so did my height. And my dick. I had no hair anywhere except my head, and that was now silky smooth and down to my chin. The new hair was not my usual curly brown, but straight and almost blood red. My chest continued to swell until I could no longer deny it: I had tits. At least they were nice tits. My hips expanded until I could no longer fit in any of my pants. I had to wear sweat pants or exercise shorts everywhere. My brown eyes had shifted in color to hazel. My skin wasn't very dark before, but it was getting lighter in color. My jawline thinned and my voice rose almost an octave. 

	-- Month two --

	When I walked into the doctor's office almost a month after reading the curse (which I had forgotten about), I no longer matched the information listed on my driver's license. I no longer resembled a 5' 8" man with short brown hair, I now looked like a 6' tall woman with short red hair. Or I would have, if it weren't for my 10" dick. The staff didn't even believe I was who I said I was. I had to jump through a bunch of hoops to prove my identity. Fortunately, I had been taking full-body photos for the past couple of weeks since I noticed my appearance was changing. 
	I explained everything to the doctor and even showed him the photos of my progress. He was as confused as I was and ordered some blood tests to see if it was hormonal or something else. 
	The next day, while I was jacking off, I noticed a tingling coming from behind my scrotum that demanded attention. I then felt my new pussy for the first time. I freaked out. I was looking more like a sexy woman every day, and now, I was growing a pussy! I would have thought I was becoming a girl completely if it weren't for my dick, which was still growing bigger by the day. 
	I waited in vain for the test results, which came back negative. No strange hormones. 
	I sat down and cried. My life was ruined. My body was changing every day, and we had no idea why or how to stop it. 
	To calm down, I spent the next four hours jacking off. I tried rubbing my pussy and found it sensitive as well. So were my nipples. Deep into my masturbatory haze, I ordered a vibrator. 
	The next morning, as I looked in the mirror after my shower, I took a good look at myself and realized that I looked hot. In fact, I realized just how many of my fetishes I matched. Height growth, muscle growth, breast growth, ass growth, futanari, dick growth. I suddenly realized that this wasn't a medical problem, I was cursed! I was changing based on what I had masturbated to. And it had all started when I read that story, what was it called? Oh yeah, "No Comments." 
	The realization dawned on me with horror. How many stories and pictures had I masturbated to in the last month? I spent at least an hour a day on it, and since I'd gone on sick leave two weeks ago, I'd been masturbating upwards of six hours a day! There had to be thousands of pieces of art that I'd used and not commented on. And all of them were changing me. 
	I quit my job. There was no way I was going to go back in looking like a conglomeration of my wildest wet dreams. This would also give me all the time I needed to track down all the pictures and stories that were changing me. It was tedious work. Also frustrating. I couldn't possibly remember everything I had masturbated to in the last month. 
	To make matters worse, I was hornier than ever. That's what happens when you whack it to stories of women who are hornier than in reality. It didn't help that in order to comment on porn, I was looking at porn all day every day. While I was awake, I could barely make it an hour before I was too erect and aroused to think about anything but jacking it. I kept a record of porn I had already commented on and felt safe masturbating to. Not that I usually needed to bother; I was becoming so much my own fantasy that I only needed to look in the mirror and I could get off my own reflection. 
	I thanked the stars I wasn't into bimboism, or I might have found myself growing dumber. 
	So I set to work, writing comments on everything that I possibly could have masturbated to, and I watched myself change. 
	I also tried to find the curse, but porn sites have terrible search functions, and "No Comments" is an extremely common string to search for. 
	A week later, I realized that the strange dark spots on my torso were not moles that I needed to see the dermatologist about, but nipples! I counted eight of them, meaning that if they turned into breasts, I was going to have a total of ten enormous tits. I wondered if they would grow at the same rate as my top pair and therefore stay smaller, but where the top pair was growing at a rate of one inch a week (cup size), the lower pairs grew at a rate of two inches a week until they caught up. By the end of my second month of changes, they had caught up to the top pair and I had five pairs of H-cup breasts. 
	It seemed that whoever had cast this curse liked to do things at a rate of one inch a week. I was growing taller, my hair was growing longer, my dick was growing longer,  and my chest and hip measurements were increasing all at a rate of one inch a week. Unless something needed to catch up to something else, then it grew at a rate of two inches a week, like my extra breasts. 
	Fortunately, for my sake, my muscles were growing at the rate that my bicep measurement increased by an inch a week. I needed the help with mobility because all my breasts were getting heavy. 
	During that second month, in addition to the extra breasts, some of the stranger changes started to manifest themselves. Each week that month, a bump appeared on my pelvis next to my penis, and over the coming weeks formed into a new penis with a new scrotum. My crotch was already getting crowded, but my pussy decided to get in on the action by swelling up as well. When I masturbated to it, I found my labia getting puffier and puffier and hanging down further and further between my legs - at a rate of one inch a week. I had no clitoris that I could find, but my collection of dicks probably counted for that. 
	My pores and scars all cleared, making my skin perfectly clear and smooth. It continued to lighten until I was as pale as alabaster. My lips thickened and darkened until they were coal black. My eyes changed color until they were as blood red as my hair. I guessed that making my hair blood red was how the curse balanced my love for goth girls with my love for redheads. 
	One day while looking in the mirror I said "I look like a fucking vampire." It was true. 
	Two months into my transformation I had: ten H-cup breasts, one 15-inch penis, four smaller penises ranging from 2 inches to 8 inches, five scrotums with a total of ten testicles, a pussy with four-inch lips, 11 inch-long hair that was blood red with brown tips, and pale skin with red eyes and black lips. I was also 6' 7" tall with widening hips and muscles like a bodybuilder. 

 	-- Month Three --

	Sometime during the first week of the third month, pressure built up in my breasts until they began to lactate. Because of course they did. I expressed my nipples by hand for the first day, but I ordered five breast pumps for same-day delivery. As it turned out, my nipples were sensitive. Milking was enough to bring me to orgasm, with semen spurting out of all my cocks at once.  
	My nipples grew an inch a week, too. By the end of the third month, the nipples on my ten L-cup breasts were four inches long. When they grew too long to fit in the breast pumps, I went back to expressing them by hand. That took more time than I wanted, so I ordered an industrial milker. That solved the problem. 
	Unfortunately, that used up the last of my savings. I needed cash, but I couldn't go out in public; I was a freak. A sexy freak, but a freak nonetheless. 
	For the first time, I decided to make the curse work for me. I considered starting an OnlyFans, but I wasn't comfortable showing off my body. And would anyone even be interested in a woman with this many breasts? Maybe a few people would be interested, but I needed a wider audience for the most cash. Fortunately, I had the goth look down. Besides the hair, skin, and eyes that I previously mentioned, over the past few weeks, my eyelashes had grown longer and darker, and perfectly drawn eyeliner had appeared over my eyes. And that wasn't all; my personality had changed: I had become more dominant. Besides the multiple breasts and the huge dicks, I had become, in height, appearance, and personality, a dommy mommy goth girl. 
	All I had to do was angle the camera right. All I showed was my face and half a foot of cleavage of my top breasts, and no one could tell the difference. 
	I started streaming and instantly gained an audience. While I played games I would talk to my watchers. I answered their questions like the dommy mommy goth I had become, and they ate it up. Donations started pouring in from my new army of simps. 
	As it turns out, there's not enough room on one torso for ten L-cup breasts. The second and fourth rows stuck out to the side so my torso was arranged something like this:
      O   O
O               O
      O   O
O               O
      O   O
except more squished together.

	 -- Month Four --

	In my fourth month, I hit a breakthrough. I had found and commented on one of the stories that had given me so many penises. Three of my dicks shrank and disappeared in one week. That left me with one 24" dick with testicles the size of softballs, and one 18" dick that was catching up. Not perfect, but it was progress.

	-- Month Five --

	In the fifth month, I found the illustration that had given me ten breasts. The bottom two pairs started to shrink and also disappeared in a week. I still had six R-cup breasts with nipples that rivaled a cow's udders, but I was so relieved by the improvement I cried. 

	-- Month Six --

	In the last five months, I had grown a lot of muscle, which had made moving around easier with my six huge tits and my ass which stuck out over a foot behind me. However, I was never into hyper muscle. I never grew as big as Schwarzenegger, which was both good and bad for me. Good, because I never lost too much flexibility, and bad, because these tits were starting to get really heavy. Even with my huge muscles, 500 pounds was a lot of tit to carry around. Besides, I was also 7' 7" tall. Human spines were not meant to be that long, nor bear that much weight. My back was in constant pain, especially when I stood to walk. 
	Not that I did much walking. Besides my two huge cocks, I had four testicles almost as big as softballs, and my pussy had swollen to the size of a basketball. It was impossible to put my legs together. I could waddle around the house, but that alone made me come. 
	If I was going to bear this much weight, I needed become stronger, but I didn't want my muscles to grow so big that I became immobile from that alone. I wondered if I could use the curse to fix the problems caused by the curse.
	I had been considering a hypothesis. Thinking back, I hadn't always had all the fetishes I did now. The pregnancy fetish came first, then the breast fetish. Later on I discovered multiple breasts, futa, giantess, etc. I began to wonder if fetishes could be learned and developed. 
	I looked up some Supergirl erotic fan fiction. Particularly stories that focused on her strength in sexy situations. I focused not on her muscles, but the strength itself. I tried to convince myself of how sexy that much strength would be. It wasn't hard to cum to that. I was on edge all the time anyway. 
	It worked. Within a week, my tits felt lighter! I knew they were still growing in size, and my muscles hadn't gotten any bigger, but I had grown stronger. I had bought myself time before I became immobile. 

	-- Month Seven --

	In the seventh month, I found a group online of people who had been cursed like me. They had all been cursed in different ways. Some were furrys, some had huge breasts, some had become futanaris, some had height changes. I felt really bad for the people who were less than two feet tall and still shrinking, and for those who had become ditzy bimbos who could barely think beyond wanting sex. As far as I could tell, I had the most and varied changes out of anyone. Lucky me. 
	At this time, six months of changes had made me 7' 11" tall, my six breasts were ZZ-cups, my hips were 26" wide, I had two 33" dicks that slapped against my knees when I walked, and my blood red hair hung down to my hips. Fortunately, my labia had stopped growing when they reached my knees. 
	The support group shared insights on the curse, how it worked, and how to overcome its effects. 
	It was there that I found two pieces of information that filled me with horror. 
	The second was the original text of the curse. No one was able to find the original posting, but someone had copied it and posted it to the group's wiki. While reading it, and the commentary, I realized I had made a tactical error. If you're reading this, you probably realized my mistake already. That's easy to do when you've just read the curse text and then read my actions a few minutes later. But remember, I hadn't realized I was cursed until a month after I had read it. I thought the curse triggered for every piece of art I masturbated to without commenting. Nope. It triggered every time I masturbated without commenting! So if I masturbated to something more than once, I had to comment each time I masturbated. I thought back to stories that I had masturbated to multiple times during one reading. Stories I had re-read and masturbated to. I thought of my entire list of stories I had labeled "safe to masturbate to" because I had already commented on them. How many times did I need to comment on them to lift the curse now? I had no idea. 
	That made my curse many times more difficult to lift, but still not impossible. I just had to make multiple accounts on some sites and comment multiple times until the curse was lifted. 
	The second clue I found was worse, though. Some members of the group had discovered through experimentation that you needed to comment on the original posting of the work. The original author of the work needed to know how you appreciated it. Reposts and pirating sites didn't count. That meant that every comic and image I jacked off to and commented on that had been uploaded without the author's permission to sites like e-hentai, nhentai, Reddit, and 4chan didn't count. I needed to find the original creators and comment on their original posting. 
	This would be easier for some than for others. I had to purchase memberships on sites like Patreon, X (formerly known as Twitter), and the BEStory Club so I could comment on the original stories. And what about all the hentai I had read? I had to find the stores for the original authors - which were all in Japanese - and comment on them. I probably had to do it in Japanese so they could actually read how much I appreciated them. 
	And what about authors who had deleted all their social media and disappeared? What about pictures posted to Reddit or 4Chan for which I had no source? What about stories posted to expired threads on 4Chan that could no longer be commented on? 
	It was hopeless. 
	I cried during my stream that night. For some reason, my tears made my "mascara" and "eyeliner" run, even though the magically-applied make-up never went away. The simps in my chat were really worried, wondering why their dommy mommy was so down. I made vague references to finding out that a medical condition I had was incurable. 
	The tips I got that night were insane. I could have probably stopped streaming for the next two years if I wanted to. 
	If I wanted to. It turns out my new personality loved the attention. 
	The next day, I didn't even bother commenting on porn. What was the point? I was just going to keep expanding and expanding until I was just an immobile, constantly cumming milk cow. I just sat in front of the mirror, staring at my unbelievably sexy body, and masturbated all day long. 
	The day after brought some post-nut clarity. 
	I remembered that I had made progress so I could continue to make progress, and that I didn't have to go through this alone. 
	I was tired of being alone in my house. I had cut off all real human contact for half a year. I got more active in the support group. I started sharing more about my changes and even uploaded some full body photos with my face edited out. As it turned out, there were others who found my transformation sexy. I started having conversations with them - real conversations! Not just acting the dominatrix to my simps. Joined together by similar trials, we developed friendships through the internet. 
	Some of us started playing games together online. I invited some of them to join me on my streams. I introduced them as members of a support group for the medical condition I'd told my chat about. I helped some of them set up their own streams and they gained their own followers. 

	 -- Month Eight --

	In my eighth month, I identified two main problems. The first was that I was now too tall for my house. My ceilings, like most ceilings, were 8' high. I was now 8' 3" tall, forcing myself to duck when I walked anywhere. The only places in my house I could stand up straight were my back yard, where I could only go at night or risk being seen, and my garage. I looked into getting a larger house, but finding a house with high ceilings was easier said than done. 
	My hands were also growing huge. I had to buy a custom oversized keyboard, mouse, and game controllers for my stream. 
	 My other problem was that after seven months of isolation, I was tired of masturbating by myself. I had two 33" cocks and a basketball-sized pussy that demanded to be used for their intended purpose. I wanted to have sex! But who could I reveal myself to? 
	The answer was my online support community. We had grown close, and some others had even hooked up, but I had hesitated. I had grown so huge, that it was hard to find anyone that fit me. Most of the people who were big enough for me were on the other side of the country. Too far for a booty call. 
	However, while looking through various profiles, I found one that stuck out to me, but I didn't know why. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about her transformations, at least as far as our community went. She was a dog girl futanari. She looked mostly human except for a thin layer of yellow fur, a dog-like snout, ears, a tail, and eight breasts, though hers were only A-cups. Now, I had nothing against furries, and enjoyed the occasional anthro porn myself, but it was a tier-three fetish for me, at best. Besides, she was obviously too small for me. Keeping all this in mind, I couldn't figure out why I kept looking at her profile. Sure, she only lived three hours away, but there were closer people who fit more of my higher-tier fetishes. 
	Then I noticed what my subconscious had latched onto: she mentioned dog-like personality. She imagined what it must be like to be a pet dog, and her change had only enhanced that. Reading between the lines, I came to the conclusion that this girl was a submissive. She wanted someone to order her around, to train her. It excited my new domineering personality. 
	I messaged her and we started to chat. Then we started to video chat. Then we started to video sex chat. I would give her orders and she would obey them while I stroked my huge cocks. I saw the lust in her eyes as she obeyed and stroked her own cock. 

	-- Month Nine --

	Eight months after I was cursed, I asked her to drive to meet me. She was afraid of going out in public and being seen driving her car. Learning what I had from the Supergirl smut, I sent her a story about a girl who got turned on by being embarrassed in public and told her to masturbate to it. 
	A week later, I ordered her to drive to my house. 	Three hours later she was on my front porch. I told her to go around back and come in through the garage door. We stood before each other. She was about five and a half feet tall, which was not much shorter than I had been before the change, but I was now 8' 8" tall. She looked tiny to me. She stood before me shyly wearing a sundress with her tail poking out from under the hem. Her blond hair flowed down to her hips, and she held her hands clasped behind her back. 
	I could see her panting with lust. It had been a long drive, after all. How many people had seen her face? How embarrassed had she been? 
	I leaned down, placed my finger under her chin and lifted her head to look at me. 
	"So," I said, "you're the lost little puppy dog looking for a home?" 
	"Yes," she whispered. 
	"Do you want to be my pet?" I asked. 
	"Yes," she whispered again.
	"Yes, what?" I asked her. 
	"Yes, please," she said. 
	"Try again," I instructed.
	"Yes, master?" she said, hopefully.
	"Close," I said with a smile. "You will address me from now on as 'Mistress.'" I didn't know when I had started thinking of myself as a woman, but it felt right. 
	"Yes, Mistress," she said.
	"And your name is now Daisy," I said. 
	She smiled. "Yes, Mistress. Thank you Mistress, I love it!" 
	I scratched her behind the ear. "Good girl," I told her, "good girl." 
	She leaned into my hand and her leg started to jiggle. Her tail wagged frantically. 
	"How was your drive, Daisy?" I asked her.
	"It was fine, Mistress," she said, "but a lot of people stared at me."
	"How did that make you feel?" I asked. I knew the answer. Her penis was tenting the sundress. I could see spotting where it had been soaked with her precum. 
	"Embarrassed," she said, "and horny, Mistress." 
	I smiled. It had worked!
	"Follow me," I commanded.
	"Yes, Mistress." 
	I ducked through the doorway into the house and led her to my bedroom. I paused just outside. 
	"Daisy," I said, "take off your dress and hang it over that chair."
	"Yes, Mistress," she said. She took it off. She was wearing no underwear nor bras. Her dog's penis stood out red and proud from its sheath, nearly a foot long. If my pussy hadn't expanded, that would have been huge, even for me at my height. Her tail still wagged. She really did love to be ordered around. I would have to reward her. 
	"Now," I said. "Take that painter's plastic," I pointed to a box I had placed next to the door, "and spread it around the floor and on my bed." I had disassembled my bed months ago when it became too short for me. Instead I had set two queen-size mattresses next to each other on the floor. This gave me a bed that was 10' x 7' 8". I would soon need a third mattress, with the rate I was growing. 
	"Yes, Mistress."
	"We don't want to get my room dirty, do we?" 
	"No, Mistress." 
	"Good girl." 
	Her tail wagged harder. 
	As I watched her spread the plastic that would protect my carpeting from my semen, I started to stroke my cocks. I hadn't worn clothing in months, as nothing I could possibly order would fit me for very long. Daisy snuck quick glances at me, but she worked quickly. 
	When she finished, I ducked into the room. I lowered myself to the bed, mindful of my huge pussy and my four volleyball-sized testicles. I leaned back, supporting myself up with my arms. My thighs spread until they were almost two feet across and my ass stuck out behind me almost the same distance. My blood red hair spread out on the mattress behind me. My twin cocks each jutted out 42". Each was about 7" wide. The cocks' heads came up to Daisy's chest. 
	"Daisy," I said, "I haven't cum all day because I was waiting for you. I've saved up all this cum for you. Don't you feel honored?"
	"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress!" Her tail wagged. 
	That was important to me. I was her mistress, and I would command her, but I wasn't going to be cruel. I'd read up on dom/sub relationships. Contrary to popular belief, subs held most of the power in a relationship. Doms could only order their subs to do something the sub was willing to do. 
	"Have you had a lover before, Daisy?" 
	"Mistress?" 
	"Don't make me repeat myself, Daisy."
	"Um, yes mistress. Yes, I have dated before." 
	"What is the name of your most recent ex?"
	"Um, Jennifer, Mistress." 
	"Good girl," I said. "That will be our safe word, because unless I go too far, I never want to hear that word from your mouth again. I don't want to hear you talking about other women around me. Do you understand me?"
	"Yes, Mistress." She smiled and wagged her tail. 
	"Good girl. Now, eat me out, and you're not allowed to cum until I tell you to."
	"Yes, Mistress!" She dove right in. Her head fit in between my labia and could have penetrated all the way to my womb. She licked and rubbed and stroked my pussy all over, and it was wonderful. She knew what she was doing and brought me to orgasm quickly. My twin cocks fired over a gallon of cum into the air over her head. 
	"That's enough," I told her. "My breasts are full. Drink!"
	"Yes, Mistress!" She dutifully climbed on top of me and grabbed one of my teats and began to drink. Between her licking and sucking I came again before she was full. 
	"Mistress, I can't drink any more." 
	She had done her best and had distended her stomach with my milk. 
	"Good girl. Now, come here and kiss me."
	She gingerly stepped around my pussy and my scrotums, then stepped on my thighs to lean up and kiss me. Her kiss tasted like milk. 
	I pulled her to me and rolled over until she was sandwiched between three breasts on top and three breasts beneath. My cup size had surpassed the alphabet weeks ago. Let's just say that each of my breasts was approaching 100 pounds each. 
	I stroked her hair. "You did very well, my pet."
	"Thank you, Mistress," she said in a sleepy tone. 
	"I suppose you are wondering when I will let you cum." 
	"Yes, Mistress." 
	"We will come to that, but first I'm going to explain your duties."
	"Yes, Mistress."
	"I require frequent milkings. I will teach you to use the milkers. You will drink as much as you can. Anything you can't drink gets pumped."
	"Yes, Mistress." 
	"I also need help finding and commenting on some of the art that is changing me. I need to solve this curse before I become immobile." Experiments done by the community had shown that it worked if someone else made the comment from your account. 
	"Yes, Mistress."
	"Now, as for letting you cum."
	"Yes Mistress?" she asked hopefully.
	"Do you really think that your tiny dick is enough to please me?"
	"N-no, Mistress. I'm sorry." Her ears drooped. 
	"It's not your fault, but it is an issue that needs to be fixed. Don't you wish you had a nice, big cock you could ravish me with? You can say no, if you want."
	"Of course, Mistress. I do, Mistress." I could feel her tail wag, so I knew she was telling the truth. 
	"Good girl. Now, we could fix your size with the curse, but that would take months before you're big enough to fuck me. And we don't want to wait months to make love, do we?"
	"No, Mistress."
	"However," I said as I sat us up and reached for my tablet, "I believe there is a faster way, but it will be hard on you. Very hard. It may be the most difficult thing you've ever had to do. But I promise that if you endure to the end of it, we will be fucking in one month's time. Will you do this for me? Again, you don't have to, but I'm asking you to, and I'll be very happy with you if you say yes."
	Daisy was silent for a moment, then she said "yes, Mistress, I'll do it." 
	"Good girl." I unlocked the tablet. "Now, read this comic, and masturbate the whole time. But remember, you are not allowed to cum until I tell you to."
	"Yes, Mistress." 
	No matter how big the dick in the futanari art, no matter how many futanari stories a cursed person masturbated to without commenting, their penis only grew at a rate of one inch a week. I didn't want to wait the better part of a year before Daisy was big enough that I could feel her plow me. While trying to think of a faster way, I remembered a series of "No Nut November" comics from a few years past. The general plot of these comics was that a futanari would abstain from cumming  for the entire month of November. During that time, not only would her balls swell up, but so would her cock, and often her breasts. If this worked on Daisy, within a month her dick would be huge. 
	I considered having her masturbate at some smut that would swell her pussy like mine, but I thought that would be too much to do to her at the same time. Besides, one of us had to maintain mobility. 
	As she read, I coached her imagination so she would gain the right changes. 
	"Just imagine, Daisy. Imagine doing this challenge. Imagine your balls filling with seed. Imagine your cock growing bigger. Imagine it growing until it's big enough to fit me. Imagine your balls growing so big you could inflate me."
	"Y-yes M-mistress," she stammered as she read and masturbated. 
	We reached the finale of the comic, where the enlarged futa inflates the women who had tormented her with her stored sperm. "Now look at their swelling bellies. Imagine how good it would feel to fill me like that." I also stroked myself a little bit. If she was going to inflate me, I needed to be able to stretch.
	"Y-yes M-mistress," she stammered again as her stroking intensified. 
	When we finished the comic I ordered "stop masturbating, now!"
	She paused "Mistress?" she inquired, pleadingly.
	"For the next month, you are forbidden from masturbating. No matter how much your balls and penis swell, you are not to touch your dick except to wash it or pee, and you are forbidden from stroking it. Do you understand me?"
	"Yes, Mistress," she whimpered. Her ears lowered. 
	I felt bad, like I had just kicked a puppy, which was a very apt metaphor. I considered relenting, but I knew this would be worth it.
	I closed the incognito window on my tablet. I didn't know why I still looked at my porn in private mode when I had moved out of my parents' house over a decade ago, but old habits die hard. 
	"Now," I said, pulling up real estate listings, "I need you to help me find a new place to live. I haven't been able to stand up straight in my own home in almost two months, and I'm sick of being cooped up in this house. I need some space away from prying eyes where I can stand up straight."
	"Mistress," Daisy said, hesitatingly, "why don't you come live with me? I inherited my parents' house when they died. There's several acres of forest with riding trails, and though I sold the horses when they died, there's a barn we could make livable, or even tear it down and build a new house for you." She grabbed her phone from her purse and showed me pictures of her property. It looked nice.
	"How's the internet?" I said. I made my living by streaming, after all. 
	"Google signed a deal with the county to give everyone fiber a few years ago. They didn't realize until they'd signed the contract that I was technically in the county, so they had to install a mile of fiber optic cable just to reach my house!" 
	It sounded perfect, but I'd have to see it myself. The next day, Daisy rented a moving van. We loaded my mattresses into the back and she drove us up to her property. It was as idyllic as she'd described. The barn could keep the rain off, but couldn't do much else. We decided to demolish it and build a new house for me, as Daisy suggested. 
	Over the next month, we sold my house and most of my possessions and moved the rest up to Daisy's. We hired a contractor to build a small house with 15 foot high ceilings. He balked until I appeared before him. My 9' tall self, wrapped in a hastily constructed robe made by stapling bedsheets together, changed his mind. It would take a few months to build, and I hoped I wouldn't eventually grow too tall for it. 
	When we weren't handling logistics, we did the things that people in a relationship did. We watched movies with her snuggled inside my triple cleavage. We shared music with each other. We ate meals together. We brushed each other's hair. I started to grow quite fond of her. 
	A few days after I moved to her house, I gave her a present: a blue collar with a dog bone-shaped tag that read "Daisy." 
	"Oh, Mistress, I love it," she said, and eagerly let me put it on her. 
	Over that same month, I got to watch Daisy grow. As I'd predicted, the No Nut November comic made her grow when abstaining much more quickly than the curse by itself did, even though it wasn't November. Instead of an inch a week, she gained an inch a day! Every morning she presented herself to me, showing off how much she had grown in the night, her tail wagging as I measured her. As time went on, she spent more and more time erect. She would squirm, struggling not to give relief to her throbbing erection as it grew ever larger. 
	I never stopped masturbating, and Daisy whimpered with desire as I made her help me get off. I would have her grip my cocks, one in each arm as I thrust into her, or I would have her lick my swollen labia. I was getting almost too big to get myself off, so having her with me was a godsend. I also hoped that arousing her would cause her to grow more quickly. Though she was obviously suffering, she took it in stride. I could see that she enjoyed being teased and ordered by the wagging of her tail. She never said the safeword, either, so I figured everything was all right. 
	I was pleased to see her breasts growing as well. They didn't grow as quickly as her cock did, but maybe the growth had to be spread over all the breasts. By the end of the month, her little A-cups had grown to jiggly D-cups. 
	While her dick growth was impressive, her testicle growth was astounding. By the end of the first week, they were the size of softballs. By the end of the second week, they were volleyballs. By the end of the second week, they surpassed my own balls (at least individually) and grew to the size of basketballs. By the end of the fourth week, her growth truly surged and her balls each grew to the size of bean bag chairs. She could barely drag them around. They stretched her scrotum to its limit. 
	I thought they were glorious.
	I could tell during that fourth week that her discomfort was slowly turning to an ache, then to pain, then to agony. 
	On the twenty-seventh day, she could focus on nothing else and begged to be released. 
	"Please, Mistress," she wailed, "it hurts! Please let me cum!" 
	"Shh, not yet, my pet," I said, stroking her hair. "You're almost there. You're such a good girl, and I'm going to give you such a reward for this. That's my good girl." 
	She whimpered but determined to carry on. 
	Until a few hours later when she collapsed in sobs. 
	"I'm sorry, Mistress," she sobbed, "I can't do it any more."
	"You're almost there," I said. "Just three more days."
	"Jennifer," she whispered. 
	"What was that?"
	"Jennifer, Mistress," she wailed. "I'm sorry, but Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer!"
	That was our safe word. Daisy had followed every one of my orders exactly for twenty-seven days. She had never found a reason to defy me until now. When I heard my faithful puppy say those words, my heart broke. What did it matter if she hadn't made it the whole month? This wasn't a story written to satisfy horny perverts, this was real life, and this was my real lover. And what was another three inches to me? Her dick was already 3' 3" long and 8" wide! That was plenty big. Probably.
	I leaned back on our bed. I lifted my scrotums, revealing my glistening, swollen pussy. "Okay, my pet. That's enough. You may have me."
	With a strength I didn't realize she had, and a mad, desperate gleam in her eye, she rushed at my pussy and inserted her enormous cock all the way to the hilt. I screamed in orgasm as I felt it penetrate my womb, which now stretched up somewhere in my chest. Then I felt her knot inflate, and she was locked into my pussy. She was big enough to fit me! Finally, after nine months, I had found a worthy dick! She looked almost ridiculous pounding against me, since I was nine feet tall, almost twice as tall as her. But I didn't care. 
	She thrust with all her might, her entire torso of breasts jiggling. The tag on her collar jingled with each thrust. Every few thrusts I came, and my cocks spurted cum in unison each time. It was perfect. She was perfect. This was the most pleasure I had ever felt in my life. 
	Finally, she came inside of me. She screamed as huge gushes of cum flooded into me. The knot kept any of her cum from leaking out of me, and with each gush my belly swelled further. For ten minutes she came, pumping me up. By the end, my belly looked as though I had a full-grown adult inside. After ten minutes of constant orgasm, she collapsed on my swollen belly, comatose. 
	I was too heavy to get up, so when I felt her knot inflate and her cock receded from my pussy, I pushed her forward with my leg, grabbed her shoulders, and dragged her up and into an embrace. I stroked her hair. "Good girl," I said. 
	She made no sound to indicate she'd heard me, but her tail wagged in the air. 
	When she recovered from her stupor, she sobbed into my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mistress," she wept, "I failed you. I wasn't strong enough. Please don't hate me, Mistress." 
	What had this poor girl been through in her life that she thought I would hate her? Was a fear of abandonment why she enjoyed being ordered around? I wasn't a therapist, but I cared about her, and I could occasionally play at being a decent fucking human being.
	"I could never hate you, Daisy," I told her as I stroked her hair. "You are wonderful, and you tried so hard for me. I know that. Who cares that you didn't make it to the end? I don't. All I care about is that your cock was big enough for me. Tell me, how did it feel inside my huge pussy?"
	"Tight, Mistress." 
	"And did any of your cum leak out of my pussy while it pumped in?
	"No, Mistress." 
	"There you have it. Now listen to me, Daisy: your cock rocked my world just now. That was the best orgasm I have ever had in my life! So no more crying about not being good enough. I order you to be proud of your world class cock! Do you understand me?" 
	"Yes, Mistress." 
	"Say it! How do you feel about your cock?" 
	"I ... am proud of it, Mistress!" 
	"And why are you proud of it?" 
	"Because my Mistress loves it!" 
	"Good enough. And why does your mistress love it?" 
	"Because ... it's the best fucking cock in the world?" 
	"That's right. And who owns the best fucking cock in the world?" 
	"My mistress does!"
	"Correct. Good girl, Daisy." I stroked her hair.
	Daisy gave a satisfied sigh and wagged her tail. "Thank you, Mistress," she murmured. 
	"I love you, Daisy."
	"I love you too, Mistress." She snuggled deeper into my shoulder and fell asleep. 
	While she slept off her ten-minute orgasm, I did some thinking. As a dominatrix, it was my responsibility to mete out punishment. But Daisy was a good girl. I never had reason to punish her. This time, I was the one who had been bad. I had forced her into weeks of discomfort and pain just for my own pleasure, and I needed to be punished.	 
	"Daisy," I said, when she woke up and had regained her strength, "it's my fault you were in pain."
	"No, Mist..."
	"It was my fault," I cut her off. "As such, I need to be punished."
	"Mistress?" 
	"I order you to tease me. Draw this out as much as you can. Torture me with arousal. Make me beg to cum. Only when my balls are blue and full to bursting, and you feel I have learned my lesson, may you give me release." 
	"Are you ... are you sure, Mistress?"
	"That. Is. An. Order, Daisy!" 
	"Y-yes, Mistress, as you order!" 
	She stood up on shaky legs. Her testicles, which had deflated to the size of volleyballs, dangled against her shins in her over-stretched scrotum. I figured it would contract to a normal size that night, but seeing those dangling balls was sexy as hell to me. 
	"Um, Mistress?" 
	"Yes?" 
	"Do you have any exes?"
	I smiled, as I saw where this is going. 
	"Yes, my last girlfriend was named Charlotte." 
	"Then that will be your safeword, since I don't want to hear her name, either." 
	She went to the other room and came back wearing a pair of high heels and a slinky black dress that stretched across her eight D-cup breasts and her fat cock. The dress extended to just below her knees, so the tip of her flaccid but still huge cock just poked out the bottom and her balls swung in view just beneath it. She placed a Bluetooth speaker on a table by the door and started playing music with a heavy bass beat. She unclasped her collar with exaggerated movements and made sure I saw her place it on the table. 
	"Sit up," she said. 
	Most of her spunk had leaked out of my pussy while we had embraced, but there was still enough of it inside of me that it was all I could do just to sit up. I didn't think I could stand. 
	Daisy was very good at walking in heels. She didn't slow down as she trod through the puddle of mixed cum that coated the floor. With each seductive step, her tits and cock jiggled underneath it. She walked right up to me and placed one foot on the mattress, making her head level with mine. "I bought this for you," she said, "but didn't know the right time to give it to you. Since I'm in charge now, I think this is the right time." She revealed a black choker in her right hand, then leaned forward and clasped it around my neck. "There," she said with a smile, "don't you look like a good girl." 
	I gulped. How was she so good at this? Was I really being intimidated by this puppy who was so much smaller than me? 
	No, she wasn't a puppy. She was a fully grown dog woman, and while dogs can be submissive, they have fangs, too. 
	She leaned forward to kiss me, and when I leaned in to receive the kiss, she backed off whispering "not yet." Then she backed off of the bed.  
	"Stroke yourself," she instructed, "but don't touch the tips!"
	I complied. My cocks stuck out before me, each 4' 3" long and eight inches thick. Beneath them hung four testicles that were each six inches long. I was barely able to grip one shaft in each hand and started to stroke them in the middle. That would be enough to keep them stiff, but without touching the sensitive tip, wasn't enough to make me cum. 
	She bit her lip and looked at me through half-lidded eyes. Then she started to dance. She swayed back and forth, rubbing her hands over every inch of her body. She fondled each of her breasts in turn, and even stroked her huge dick through the dress. It started to stiffen up. 
	She saw me looking at her dick and said "you love my huge cock, don't you?"
	"Yes."
	"You want it inside of you, don't you?" 
	I swallowed. "Yes." 
	"Your pussy is so loose, that you need a big, fat cock to split you in two just to feel something, don't you?" 
	I nodded. "Yes." 
	She went back to fondling her breasts. "I don't think you're really a dom," she said. "Real doms want to be on top. They want to fuck their subs senseless. But you don't want to fuck me, do you? That's why you didn't give me a hyper pussy. You want to be underneath while a big fat cock splits you open. You act big and tough, but on the inside, you're more of a sub than I am. How pathetic. You'd do anything to be split open by your little puppy sub with her big, huge, fat, cock, wouldn't you?"
	My mouth went dry. I was more turned on than I'd ever been. Where was she getting all this? 
	"Yes," I said.  
	She smiled. "I thought so," she said, and went back to dancing. 
	After a bit, she sauntered over and straddled my left cock. She leaned down and started to suckle at my bottom left breast. While she did, she rubbed her crotch on my dick. She licked and sucked and deep throated my teat, which drove me wild. It could have been enough to get me off on its own, but she had been milking me for a month. She knew exactly how much stimulation it took to get me to cum, and she stimulated me just less than that. 
	After a while, I started to get concerned. My milk came out quickly, and she usually grew full from it in just a few minutes. But she kept sucking and sucking and sucking. When she finally detached, I realized that she had emptied my breast! Daisy usually could only take a quart or so, but my full breast held 2.7 gallons of milk! When she stood back up, I looked at her in shock as I saw her stomach stretched as though she were nine months pregnant! 
	"Daisy, how...?"
	"Shh," she said, then burped. She covered her mouth demurely and giggled. "Excuse me!" 
	She went back to dancing and rubbing herself all over, only this time she rubbed a belly which stretched out her black dress. Fuck that was hot! I don't know how she managed it, but looking at that belly swollen with my milk made my cocks rock hard and begging for release. Every muscle in my body tensed. I could feel my balls begin to swell with the extra semen my body was producing. 
	"Lie back," she commanded. 
	I did.
	She stepped back up onto the bed and grabbed one of my cocks. Then she started holding it and dancing around it like it was a stripper pole! Sometimes she would walk over my belly or thighs, but what did I care? I was made of muscle, and she weighed nothing to me. Sometimes she would pass over me and bend over so I could see her moist pussy. I was starting to regret not giving her a hyper pussy like mine.  My cocks wanted to penetrate her tight little snatch, but that was impossible. My cocks were too big, and she was too small. I whimpered as my kegels flexed, doing nothing but making my cocks bob.
	That was enough to make her fall to her knees on my right side, where she grabbed the bottom breast on that side and start to suckle. That was too much. There was no way she could hold the milk of a second breast!
	"Daisy, stop!"
	She detached just long enough to say "no," before returning to suckling. 
	"Daisy, stop," I repeated. "That's an order!"
	She looked up at me. She looked me right in the eyes. "I'm giving the orders right now. Be quiet." 
	I submitted. I didn't know why. Why was she giving me these orders? Why was I obeying them? Was it because I told her to punish me? 
	I moaned as she suckled at my sensitive teat. Again she stimulated me just enough to keep me just under orgasm. 
	When she stood up, with a more difficulty this time, her belly was even bigger, and the dress was stretching at the seams. She rubbed her belly and winked at me.
	"Don't you wish this were your cum? Filling me until I'm about to burst?"
	"Yes," I whispered. I kept stroking my cocks. There was nothing else I could do. 
	She danced some more. Well, she was really just swaying while rubbing herself. "I'm so full," she moaned. "How much more can I take before I burst?" She stroked her cock, which was erect under her swollen belly. 
	"Sit up," she ordered. 
	I did, and wasn't surprised to see that my testicles had swollen. They were approaching size of volleyballs. 
	"You're looking full yourself," she said. "I wonder which of us will pop first?"
	She knelt by me, grabbed my left middle teat, and suckled. I ground my toes into the painter's plastic on the floor. My balls were starting to ache. But I could put up with it, after what I'd put her through. 
	When she finished, she stood up again. She struggled to maintain her balance. The dress was hanging on by a thread. She took a deep breath and arched her back, and the dress split down the middle, and her belly and breasts burst into view. At the sight of that, my kegels clenched and I nearly came on the spot. But I held back. I'd promised her, after all. The ache in my poor balls deepened. 
	She gave a sigh of relief. "Ah, that's better." Her belly had distended to a sphere almost 16 inches in diameter! I couldn't figure out how she hadn't popped yet. 
	She shook out of the dress. She took off her shoes and stood naked and barefoot in the puddle of our mixed cum. "Time to finish this," she said. 
	She waddled up to my left side and took my left top teat. She emptied it while I stroked my twin dicks, which were growing angry and red. I had been stroking them for over an hour at this point. She drank slowly, teasing my nipple. 
	My balls ached. It was a long time to be so close to orgasm. 
	She was barely able to stand up after emptying four of my breasts, but she made her way to the other side and started on the right middle breast. 
	"You don't have to do this," I said.
	She just glared at me. 
	I shut up. 
	In the time she had taken to do her dances and drink, my last two breasts had grown engorged. It took her over twenty minutes per breast to empty them. By that point, my testicles felt like they were going to burst. They were almost as big as basketballs! And I had four of them! 
	I moaned. I wasn't sure if it was in pleasure or pain. 
	To my growing horror, when she finished with the last breast, she started over! In the last almost two hours, my breasts had started to fill back up. She just continued to drink, and drink, and drink. 
	Finally, I was empty. There was no more milk for her to drink. 
	Her belly had grown to nearly two feet in diameter! She tried to stand up, but found herself pinned to the mattress. 
	My testicles were now much bigger than basketballs. Each had to have been a foot across!
	"Stand up," she ordered.
	Despite her cum that remained in my belly and the size of my swollen testicles, I somehow complied and wrenched myself to my feet. 
	"Stand behind me." 
	I did. 
	"Now, one in my pussy, and one in my ass."
	"... What?"
	She growled at me. "One in my pussy, and one in my ass!"
	"Daisy, I don't think..." 
	"I didn't order you to think," she barked with bared teeth, "I ordered you to shove one of your dicks in my pussy, and the other in my ass! Now, unless you want to have blue balls all night, do what I say and double penetrate me, now!"
	Somehow helpless to defy the orders of a woman one-eighth my weight and pinned to the mattress with her own belly, I gingerly positioned one of my cocks at the entrance to her pussy, and the other just beneath her tail. Slowly, I pressed forward. To my utter astonishment, they went in! Somehow, her little asshole and tight snatch were stretching to take my eight inch thick cocks! I penetrated further and somehow was able to fit two feet of cock in each hole. 
	Daisy howled in orgasm, and I could feel her pussy convulse against me. 
	"H-how!?" I exclaimed. 
	She growled again. "If you don't stop wasting my time and fill me with your cum, I'll explain. Now thrust, you bitch!" 
	Dutifully, I started thrusting both of my cocks in and out of her holes. It was heavenly. I almost came right away, but I managed to last a few thrusts, at least. I rammed into her while her huge stomach kept her in place. My balls swung back and forth, colliding with her belly and my legs. 
	It didn't take very much to push me over the edge. Soon enough, I also howled as I came. Gallons of my cum rushed into Daisy's pussy and asshole, doubling the amount she was inflated. It didn't look as impressive because she was already so full, but her belly expanded to 2.5' in diameter. 
	When I finished my own ten minute orgasm, I collapsed behind her. I pulled her feet so she rolled into my lap. 
	"I forgive you," she said sweetly.
	When I was able to think again, she explained everything. 
	"When you showed me that No Nut November comic to make my penis expand," she began, "you exposed me to three fetishes you didn't mean to. The first was the inflation. I didn't just fantasize about being the one doing the inflating, but the one inflating. In that comic the futa cumflated three women: one in the pussy, one in the butt, and one down the throat. That's why I could fit all your milk in my stomach. The second fetish was large insertion. The girls in that comic had normal-sized pussies and asses, but were still able to fit the huge futanari penis. I thought that was hot, so masturbating to the comic made my pussy and asshole super stretchy. And finally," she grinned at me, "the futa in that comic was dominant, and the girlfriend was submissive. You gave me a little dominant streak, and I think you gave yourself a bit of a submissive streak. You've turned us into switches, Mistress!"
	Like I said, the subs hold all the power in a dom/sub relationship. 
	The next morning, as I'd hoped, Daisy's scrotum had retracted, pulling her now volleyball-sized testicles up neatly under her huge cock, which remained the same size. Watching her carry out her duties with all her huge tits wobbling on top of her enormous cock and balls was arousing as hell. 
	Now that Daisy had revealed how elastic she was, she drank a lot more of my breast milk than she had before. I ordered her to be careful, though. Breast milk contains approximately 2,800 calories per gallon. A person needs to consume 3,500 calories to gain one pound. That means that drinking a gallon of breast milk will cause a person to gain about 0.8 pounds. At that time, drinking all 2.7 gallons from one breast would cause Daisy to gain about 2.16 pounds. The night we inflated each other, she drank enough milk to gain almost 20 pounds overnight. 
	Daisy reveled in the weight gain. It seemed that around 90% of her fat went to her breasts, butt, and thighs, probably due to some story she had failed to comment on. While she did gain a little roundness in the face and arms, most of it went to her eight breasts and her rapidly expanding ass. I was afraid that if she kept growing, one day both of us would be immobile. 

	-- Month Ten --

	In the tenth month of my curse, we found out that we were both pregnant. 
	For some reason, I was happy. It was strange because I had been born a male, and had been happy as a CISHET male until the curse. I must have read a story about a woman who had a pregnancy fetish, because I couldn't wait to swell up and become more pregnant. 
	Daisy was ecstatic at the news that she was going to be a mother. I wondered if she had been a man or woman before the curse. I had never asked. I decided that it didn't matter. She was my Daisy, and I was her Mistress. Well, most of the time.  
	To get ready to be parents, we redoubled our efforts to find and comment on whatever art or stories I had masturbated to that made me my current form. We made new accounts on me and made more comments on the most likely suspects. 
	As fun as my boobs, cocks, and pussy were during sex, they were completely impractical for taking care of children. My chest was becoming harder for me to carry again. While applying Supergirl smut to my body via the curse had made me stronger, it seemed like the curse couldn't do the impossible. It could make my muscles denser and give them more strength per their mass, but it couldn't give me literal super strength. If this kept up, by the time my children were born I would be the tallest and strongest person in the world, and completely immobile. And it would be children, not a child; no one with a pregnancy fetish fantasizes about one child in a pregnancy. 
	Daisy continued to grow. I had forbidden her from drinking more than the contents of one breast at a time and only at mealtimes so she wouldn't grow too quickly. Also so her inflated stomach wouldn't immobilize her. That was still a lot of milk, meaning she gained about six pounds a day, or 180 pounds that entire month. 
	I was worried about her, but she followed my example and masturbated to Supergirl smut so she could carry the weight. Also, seeing her double her weight, mostly to her already sexy curves, was hot as hell. Every time I tried to lecture her about gaining too much weight, she would wrap one of my dicks in 100 pounds of tits, stimulating me until I couldn't think straight, and then make me dual penetrate her in her ass and pussy. 
	Stupid sexy dog girl. 

	-- Month Eleven --
	
	After ten months of the curse, I became immobilized by my tits, which we estimated were almost 300 pounds each. I could technically move myself, but it was a strain and my back hurt for hours afterwards. From this point on, I depended on Daisy for everything. 
	I don't know if it was because of the switch mentality I'd implanted in her or simply because I couldn't enforce my commands anymore, but she almost doubled the amount of my milk she drank each day. She would drink until she looked pregnant with twins, then walk around just out of my reach, rubbing her belly and talking about how sexy she would look when she was full of all the babies I'd pumped into her. 
	I watched helplessly as she ballooned to over 600 pounds. 

	-- Month Twelve --

	As the curse passed eleven months, we had run out of options. We had scoured all the places I possibly could have found something to masturbate to, but it still wasn't enough. I was 9' 8" tall, my blood-red hair stretched to my knees, my ass was almost four feet wide, my ass stuck out behind me almost two feet, my six breasts spread out almost 2' in diameter on the bed I was pinned to, and weighed close to a thousand pounds all together.
	I lay down on my bed of tits and cried at the futility of it all. 
	Daisy did her best to console me. She leaned against my top breasts and kissed me. 
	"Don't worry, Mistress, you'll think of something." 
	"I can't, Daisy. I've failed you, I've failed myself, and I've failed our children. They will grow up knowing that their father/mother is a miserable failure! I've tried everything I could think of to solve this problem, but I'm all out of ideas. If only I were smarter, I could have figured it out by now. But no, I'm just an idiot who's going to be pinned to the ground forever by her ever-growing udders because she's too stupid to figure out the solution."
	"If you think you're too stupid, Mistress why don't you make yourself smarter?" 
	"You can't just make yourself smarter, Daisy." 
	"Didn't you make yourself stronger, Mistress? You had a muscle fetish, but not a strength fetish, but you figured out how to give yourself one. Can't you give yourself an intelligence fetish and become smarter?" 
	I thought about it. The solution was so simple! I had always been attracted to the smart girls in any show I watched: Sailor Mercury, Asami Sato, Kaylee Frye, Winry Rockbell, and, um Gadget Hackwrench (don't judge me). I also hated any erotic story where the woman becomes dumber. With those two aspects of my personality, I was halfway there. 
	I grabbed Daisy and kissed her on the lips. "Daisy," I said, "you're a genius!" 
	I immediately found some smut where the girl becomes smarter and started masturbating to it. That was a challenge in itself. Not finding the smut, I was a master at that. But masturbating while pinned to your own breasts is tricky. Daisy had to arrange my dicks next to my tits while they were flaccid just so I could reach them. 
	Daisy cheered me on. "That's it, Mistress, focus on how smart she's getting. Isn't smart sexy? Don't you just want to fuck a girl who can tell you the secrets of the universe?" 
	I did. I really, truly did. I came, ejecting buckets of cum while fantasizing about having a girlfriend smarter than me. 
	What Daisy didn't anticipate though, was how much this made me realize that I wanted a genius girlfriend. I ordered her to masturbate to the same stories. We didn't know if it would work, because intelligence wasn't necessarily one of her fetishes. But I tried to apply her natural submissive personality. Wasn't her mistress supposed to be smarter than her pet? I whispered in her ear about what it would be like to have the smartest Mistress in the world, what it would be like to have her answer any question about the world while making love. 
	I didn't know or care how hard it would be, but I was in love with this tiny, submissive dog girl, and if I was going to become a genius, I was going to take her with me. 
	We weren't sure that it worked right away. One doesn't just feel "smarter." Instead, things become easier to comprehend. Like while it used to take me about an hour to solve a sudoku puzzle, a week after masturbating to geniuses, sudoku solutions were obvious to me at a glance. I was able to memorize any text just by reading it once, could perform complex calculations in my head, and finally figured out how to set the clock on my microwave. 
	And Daisy was no less gifted. She wasn't much of a reader before, but she became addicted to Wikipedia, soaking in the knowledge like a sponge. 
	Unfortunately, the increase in intelligence didn't come with improved memories of what I'd masturbated to over eleven months ago. But just like with the sudoku, the solution to my problem became obvious: I just had to find the person who created the curse! 
	Daisy and I got to work, learning everything we could about computer programs and algorithms. In only a week we had memorized all the computer science books we could get our hands on, and only a few days later our minds had completely processed it, making us as talented as any MIT Computer Science graduate. I started focusing on hacking and Daisy worked on using AI to trace the origin of the curse on the internet. She chose that route because it felt like being a hunting dog to her. 
	We also ordered an ultrasound machine (did you know you can get one for only a couple thousand dollars?) to check on our babies. As we'd expected, we were both pregnant with multiples. I won't tell you how many, but the word "litter" applied to both of us. At least my babies wouldn't be hungry. Daisy was as happy as I'd ever seen her. 

	-- Month Thirteen --

	Finally, after a year of being cursed, we found the source. It had been posted by a new account on a well-known erotica site. After only a few hours, both the account and the posting were deleted, but not before someone in our community had copied the text down. 
	I traced the IP address, and to my surprise, found that it was the same address as an erotica author I was familiar with. I had enjoyed all their stories. However, before the curse, I hadn't commented on any of them. I felt a little guilty about that. 
	I hacked into their computer and forced it into a Zoom call with me. 
	A surprised looking woman appeared before me. 
	"What the hell?" she said. "Who are you?"
	"Me?" I said, "I'm one of the people you cursed a year ago, bitch! I'm now ten feet tall, my ass is five feet wide, I can't move because I've got six tits that total 2,000 pounds, and I produce over 200 gallons of milk a day! And all because I failed to comment on some porn! And I'm not even the worst off! There are people who are now an inch tall because of you! Some are getting pregnant with twenty babies at a time! I know one guy who is now a hamster! A fucking hamster! What the fuck was your problem!?" I didn't tell her that Daisy now weighed almost 1,000 pounds and was nearly spherical, but was still somehow barely mobile. 
	She stared at me open-mouthed. "Aw shit, that curse is still active?"
	"Hell yeah it's still active! Now fix it before I dox you to our support group! Why the fuck did you think this was okay?"
	"Okay, first of all, I'm sorry. I really thought I had fixed it. I don't know how it could still be active. Wait, did someone copy the curse?"
	"Yeah, we've got it on our wiki."
	"There's a wiki? Shit. Shit, shit, SHIT FUCKS! All right, let me explain. So yeah, I'm a witch. Well, we call ourselves brujas, but you get the idea. Anyway, I also write a little erotic fiction on the side. Transformation stuff. One night, I got a little drunk and then got upset that no one was commenting on my stories. Then I got plastered. When I woke up, I found out that I had made a new stories account and posted that curse online. My drunk self had used like five years worth of stored mana to cast it, too. I deleted it, and that should have been the end of it. It's what's called a 'memetic curse.' It only exists as long as there's a copy of the original text. Like, let's say I wrote it out on paper and then burned the paper. The curse would be gone. But if someone copied it out word for word before I burned the original paper, the curse would still be active. So as long as the text is still around somewhere, that curse is still working on you. Shit, that explains why I haven't been able to store any new mana this year." 
	I processed what I had just heard. Fortunately, I was a genius now. "So you're saying we're only still cursed because someone copied it?"
	"That's right."
	"But you're also saying that if we can delete all the copies of this curse, we can lift it?"
	"Yeah, but that's not so easy," she said. 
	"I'm a world-class computer hacker," I said. "I found you, after all." 
	She sighed. "Maybe so, but that's not good enough. It's like they say, nothing's ever gone from the internet. Think of all the web scrapers and archives. The copies people keep in their offline computers. You mentioned a support group for people like you. Did anyone make the curse work for them? They'll probably keep a copy offline that you can't find. Hell, I bet they've got a paper copy printed out and hung up in their room. That's why memetic curses are so powerful and why we're not supposed to cast them. Haven't you noticed that since everyone has been sharing memes everywhere that the world has gone to shit? That's because there are thousands of curses mixed up in them that are cursing the world." 
	I thought about what she said. She was right. How many copies of the curse existed on how many computers and servers? Would I ever be able to delete them all? 
	"I'm still going to try," I said. "In the meantime, you're going to figure out a way to lift this curse, memetic or not. If you don't, I'm not only going to dox you to our community, but I'm going to empty your bank accounts. We've got mouths to feed on the way." 
	She reluctantly agreed and Daisy and I went to work. We got in contact with the community and revealed what we learned. Some people were more than happy to delete the wiki if it meant returning to normal form. Some were reluctant to get rid of information that they could potentially use to figure out a solution. As the bruja predicted, there were even a few who liked the new transformations and wanted to keep things the way they were. 
	But I was the world's most talented computer hacker. Daisy helped me rig an AI to hack the wiki and everyone's computers and delete all copies of the curse. But the bruja was right, it wasn't enough. The curse wasn't lifted. If there was even one copy remaining on a disconnected computer, a physical copy, or even in an encrypted chat somewhere, the curse remained. 
	I contacted the bruja and told her she was right and that she'd better have a solution. 
	She sent me a message that said "read this and tell me what you think."
	The message read:
	"Addendum: If you read the first curse and this addendum, some of the changes that happen to you will be taken from the victims of the first posting of this curse. If you comment on this posting, you'll get to choose which changes in the porn and smut you consume happen to you by commenting on the things in the story or art you liked best." 
	"What's this?" I asked.
	"The thing about anything memetic is that they can be changed. If you make people read the original curse and this addendum, you'll be able to transfer some of the changes that happened to my first victims to whoever reads the new curse. But make sure you give them a warning so they know what's going to happen to them." 

	-- Epilogue --

	And so I did. By reading this story, which includes the text of the original curse and the addendum, you've now been cursed. I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but we've got children on the way, and I can't take care of them in the state I'm in. 
	But you needn't worry. All you have to do is comment on this story saying what you liked about it, and you'll gain control. Also, you'll have to comment on all the smut art and literature you consume from now on or our curses will transfer to you without your control. 
	Don't think this doesn't apply to you. I'm talking to you, the pervert who downloaded this from The Overflowing Bra. After you've finished masturbating to this and wiped the semen from your dick or cleaned off your dildo, go back to the website and click on "Rate Me" and give a comment and rating on this story. And then, if you've read any of my other stories and haven't commented, go and comment on one of them or I'll trace your IP and drain your bank account. And then be a good person and go comment on another story you liked. 

	But you don't have to. It's your choice, after all. 

The End