Cupid's Arrow

"So as you can see from these results, we're extremely close to perfecting Cupid's Arrow."

Harry's hand shook slightly as it pointed out a few graphs. Chemical ratios, hormone levels, yields, all of the information seeming to blur into a haze of indecipherability. He was hopeful, if sweating under his collar, as he seemed to have gotten through the pitch. Then one of the men at the meeting table leaned forward with steepled fingers and uttered those dreaded words.

"That's not what we heard."

Harry sighed inwardly. Here it came.

"We heard something about an intern?"

With a practiced motion Harry clicked to the desktop on his laptop and opened up one of the folders. After being caught having to drag through some fairly personal stuff for these pictures he made sure at every other pitch he had them ready.

"Minor matter really just a, y'know, lab mix up, these things happen right?"

The things that happened loaded up on the projector, causing a gasp to rise up from the men at the table.

"She was, erm, a new intern at the lab... Didn't follow proper procedure and accidents happen right?"

On screen were two pictures. On the left a slim, tanned, smiling young woman with small square glasses and lab coat with her brown hair in a loose ponytail. On the right was a picture of a girl just recognisable as the pleasant girl on the left. She appeared to be sitting against the back of a hospital bed. Most of her body was obscured by a gargantuan pair of breasts, easily the size of beach balls, resting on top of her soft thighs. A thick curtain of hair cascading from her head obscured everything else.

Harry sighed and clicked ahead. A video started on this slide. He watched the men on the table shift uncomfortably as an orgasmic squeal echoed through the small meeting room.

The giant-breasted woman from the previous slide was spreadeagled on the bed, her colossal boobs sliding off either side of her chest and stomach and jiggling as she pushed a large dildo hard into her pussy. It was more obvious now it was not only her breasts that had grown - her plush buttocks shook slightly and her hips appeared to be twice as wide as they were before.

She drove the dildo into herself to the hilt and screamed as her back arched, her breasts shaking violently as she came and came. When she finally stopped, panting, pushing a lock of sweat-sodden hair from her face, she fell silent for a few heavily laboured seconds before giving a tired moan and starting to move the dildo again. Her hand came up and pushed up against her breast, clearly showing the heavy resistance of its weight, and guiding her nipple into her mouth.

Her wobbling tit-flesh muffled her screams as the hand moved down her body and started to push her clit hard against the dildo as it thrust which, the board members could see as they leaned in even close, appeared to be heavily swollen.

The next slide was just some information documenting the rapid growth of her breasts, hips, buttocks and the heightening of her libido over the course of a few minutes.

"I must remind you gentlemen that this was an unintended test! The aphrodisiac was not ready for human testing at this point, but with just a little more money and some time we could have it ready, we're almost there..."

"What happened to that poor girl?"

"Cupid's Arrow is currently a fairly concentrated mixture of powerful hormones intended to heighten libido and sensitivity, like I explained. She was exposed to an undiluted dose not intended for even animal testing, let alone human. It was an accident, an isolated incident..."

"Where is she now?"

Harry sighed again. Try as he might to redirect the flow of the meeting he could tell by the uncomfortable shifting in the room that all thoughts were currently on the huge-titted slutty intern.

"Mental hospital."

The man who originally asked the question answered the question for Harry, pulling out some paper. Oh God, they've got the information already...

"According to this, the hormone flood irreparably damaged her mind and sexual control. She's basically brainless at this point, and her doctors say it's unlikely she'll ever recover. She essentially spends her entire day either masturbating or sleeping. More than a few of her workers have been charged with assault, given what they're always working around and that she, well, literally cannot say no to sex."

"Well, I-"

"The doctors also say that the hormones were so concentrated that they've kickstarted her own production of them. The effect is never going to wear off or go away."

He folded the paper again.

"Mr. Rosenberg, you honestly expect us to invest in this freakshow? You've destroyed a young woman's life with an "accident" and you think you deserve more funding for your "ultimate aphrodisiac"?"

"Yes sir, but we..."

"No buts, Rosenberg. We're not paying you a cent. Find someone else to finance your sick fantasies."

* * *

A very dejected Harold Rosenberg slumped out of the office lobby. That fucking intern bitch had ruined another pitch! From the moment that story went public his patrons had cut off his research grant for the project.

Cupid's Arrow, he called it, a mixture of certain compounds and hormones designed to trigger instant arousal in almost anyone, along with increased sexual sensitivity. It was his project, the ultimate aphrodisiac, one which would replace every other drug on the market. And, once people found that having regular sex was incomparable with having sex on Cupid, well, they'd just keep buying.

He sighed. That was the idea, anyway. Harry had taken liberties with his story about the girl's transformation, but clearly not enough.

Stupid bitch shouldn't have threatened me, he thought. What was I supposed to do? Let some slutty little tramp run around telling everyone I was a pervert? She started it the first time and then doesn't want to do it again?

Harry had slipped her the drug when she refused to sleep with him a second time, and threatened to press charges. He thought he'd gotten it working properly, if maybe a little too strong. That was what he wanted, her horny and desperate and eager to comply. She was the best fuck he'd had in years and he was dreading having to go back to his frigid wife.

The hormones were still reacting wrong, however, and instead of just becoming horny and sensitive she turned into a sex beast. Her cute perky B-cups swelled out into those monsters that transcended cup size in a matter of an hour, her flirty little ponytail burst into a flood of thick brown hair that cascaded past her ankles and her panties split as her ass swelled.

He'd thought himself lucky at the time. She wasn't just horny, she was consumed with lust, and he'd sated his desires with that fuck-doll all night. He allowed himself a momentary grin at the thought of breasts so huge she could wrap them around his cock, though engulfed might be a better term, while he could still reach the rock-hard nipples as fat as soda cans. After his third cum, though, he'd pulled away protesting needing a rest. He wasn't normally that vigorous and even the sight of her super-sexual body couldn't bring him around for a fourth.

He'd pulled back and sat against a wall, panting, and suddenly gone white as she nearly smothered him with her boobs, howling as she dragged herself forward, fingers working desperately at her golf-ball sized clit as her pouty lips sucked hard on his cock to prepare to mount him.

She was having none of it. One of the lab technicians had found him next morning, passed out beneath her breasts as she milked his unresponsive cock for all it was worth. She wasn't saying anything anymore so it was simple to pass it off as her clumsiness, but that little stunt had cost him his funding.

Shame the hospital took her. I probably could have made more than her funding selling her to rich fuckers desperate for a piece like that.

Harry stumped through his front door, quite late. He'd been drowning his sorrows a little and he was now late to bed. His wife was already asleep as he looked her over for a moment, undressing.

He'd known why he married her. She was demanding, suspicious, bitchy and hard to please, but she was hotter than lava. Perfect body, big C cup breasts, cute short-cropped red hair. Harry had never felt himself a complex man and was perfectly willing to put up with her being a shrew for a chance to tap that every night

He laughed silently. Every night? More like every year. Maybe. If he was lucky. His wife was the queen of the cold fish. She had absolutely no interest in sex whatsoever. Truth be told that was mostly what drove his desperate quest to perfect his aphrodisiac, along with visions of cute young women in bars suddenly finding themselves so light-headed and horny and flushed and here was a man right there with a drink in hand...

He found himself growing hard. He looked down at his wife, sighed lightly, and moved into the bathroom before bed.

* * *

The news didn't go over well with the workers at the lab. Though the official line was the girl's condition was her own mistake, some of the more senior scientists had their own theories about a girl ending up a walking fetish after spending a night with Harry.

Words were said, bridges were burned, a lot of good talent walked straight out the door. Harry sighed, toying with a few leftover vials of the vibrant green chemical he wanted to work so badly. So that was it. All over. Nothing left but a lab with a dwindling lease, some machinery and four samples of aphrodisiac. He looked at one, seeing in it his gorgeous wife panting and sweating, bending over for him in bed and begging him to take her.

He rubbed himself through his pants idly as he turned the vial over, watching the liquid move. Being able to turn her on just with an idle nipple rub. He reached over for the green ledger on the table near the racks of bright red samples, flipping it open.

They'd tried hard to resolve the problems of the hormone concentration, but diluting the drug made it essentially useless. One of the scientists had come up with the concept of a staggered release, a fancy term for giving the drug out more slowly, but their funding was pulled before they could test it. Harry looked back from the ledger to the vial again, and a slow grin started to form on his face.

Morning coffee was the closest thing Harry and Lucinda had to a caring, family ritual. They spent all day apart, all evening at opposite ends of a couch and all night facing away from each other in the bed, but when Harry made coffee in the morning they managed to spend a little time pretending they liked one another.

For her money, Lucinda found Harry even more unlikable than when she had first married him. He was rude, misogynistic and mean. However, he earned decent money and was fairly easy to boss around, even if he went out to bars at night and tried to pick up girls 10 years his junior.

He rounded the corner carrying two mugs of coffee, and she accepted one wordlessly. He always made it because he wouldn't drink it how she made it. It had a funny taste today, but she honestly didn't care. She gulped the rest down and got up, picking up her bag.

"Well, I'm off. Some of us still have work to go to."

Harry gave her a wan smile as she walked out the door, and kicked back. He was fairly interested how her day at work would go.

* * *

Traffic was generally bad in the mornings on Lucinda's way to work. She normally passed the time listening to talk radio but this morning she was having trouble focusing. It wasn't a hot day but she felt stuffy and warm.

Her face was flushed and there were small beads of sweat prickling on her forehead. Wiping the sweat away, she looked down and realised she was nipping out through her shirt. Before she could think about it the traffic started to move and she was on her way again.

She could see a few odd stares as she walked into work. She wasn't a small girl, and the still-hard nipples were plainly visible through her thin shirt. For someone normally so reserved and cold it felt... odd. She tried to focus on her filing but her mind was drifting as readily as when she was in the car.

Thankfully her nipples calmed down within a few hours, but the itching heat and the sweat were still there. She bumped into a co-worker carrying a stack of papers, and the pressure against her tits made her give out a stifled gasp. By the end of the day she was nearly completely useless at work, driven to distraction by her body's odd behaviour.

Worse, her shoulders started to ache slightly and she became aware of a tightness across her chest. She decided to leave work early, claiming a fever. As she hurried out, however, she bumped into another co-worker who happened to be carrying a cup of water from the cooler. It splashed down all over the front of her thin white shirt. Lucinda was hit simultaneously with a rush of sensation that made her yelp, and the horrible realisation that her breasts, now on display to the entire room, were bulging over the top of her bra. She quickly covered herself with her hands and rushed out to her car.

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry looked up from the TV screen, quickly flicking off the porno. This was a welcome change, actually. On the rare times he was home before her she announced her presence by nothing but the clatter of her bag on the table, which led, at times, to a few hurried channel changes and cover-ups.

"Yes Lu?"

"I need you to do me a favour."

She walked into the living room and his breath caught in his throat. In the scant few hours of her workday his wife had transformed. Her damp shirt clung to her chest, making it perfectly obvious that her breasts were far too large for her bra.

Her once short-cropped hair had grown out about an inch since the morning coffee. Her normally alabaster pale skin was flushed. She held up a small reel of dressmaker's tape.

"I need you to measure me."

His wife never normally so much as let Harry see her change, so the sight of her peeling off her shirt took him aback. It was even more obvious without the shirt how the flesh of her breasts was piling up against the cups of her bra, jiggling and quivering with every movement she made.

They were bulging not only over the top but out of the sides and bottoms of the cups as well. She reached back and unhooked it with a gasp of relief, and her tits almost seemed to explode out of the cups, with angry red marks where they were pressed against the edges of the cups. Harry was nearly dumbstruck, holding the tape with his mouth gaping open.

"Oh God Harry fucking stop it and-" she stopped for a moment, closed her eyes and breathed deeply. He saw her nipples starting to crinkle and go rubbery. "Stop it and measure me. Around, just under the nipple."

He moved behind her, wrapping the tape around as per her instructions. He couldn't help brushing his fingers across her breasts as he did, feeling the softness and the faint tracery of blue veins under the pale skin. He reported his measurement to her, and then proceeded to wrap the tape underneath them, suppressing a grin as he had to heft their weight up.

"No. No, that can't be right. Measure them again."

He repeated his motions, taking yet another chance to steal a feel of her breasts. He didn't need a tape measure to tell him they were bigger, and he found it more arousing than anything he'd ever encountered besides his tryst with the intern. His cock pushed against his trousers as he reported the measurements, which were identical.

"That... that means I'm an E cup. My bra fit this morning and it's a C! How could I have gained two cup sizes in a single day?!"

She stopped for a moment, breathing heavily, her chest heaving. She turned back around to him.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you..." She bit her lower lip lightly, looking sexier than Harry had ever seen her. "... measure me again?"

Harry grinned, raising the tape up again. Before it touched her though he let it slide out of his hands and just cupped her breasts, squeezing and feeling the soft, pliant flesh bulge between his fingers as his wife let out what had to be her first moan.

"Hhhhaary ooh AH" her hips bucked as he pinched her swollen nipples between his fingers and rolled them, "ffuuck whatever it is dooon't stoopp..."

Harry had no plans to do so. He was a breast-lover through and through and having the time of his life. Even more than just enjoying playing with her now-huge tits, he was exulting in finally holding his frigid bitch of a wife's libido in the palm of his hand.

It's working! he thought with glee as he gave a particularly rough squeeze, his cock bobbing in time with her bucking. We didn't expect the breast growth, he looked up at her dishevelled hair, or the hair, but I'm not fucking complaining.

"Haaarrryyy ooh fuck I need it!"

He looked down and realised her hands were brushing her clit rapidly, her hand stuffed down her pants. She would never normally have even thought about touching herself!

He redoubled his efforts on her breasts, squeezing, tugging, pulling and pinching, Lucinda's breath coming sharper and faster until suddenly she seemed to freeze, locking up, then starting to shake, moaning, eyes wide as she came.

It struck Harry as an odd moment - he'd never seen his wife have an orgasm before and yet now she seemed to be having one so hard she could barely move, her huge tits shaking and jiggling with the jerking movements of her body. She gave one last arch and a squeal that was almost a scream before falling forward, panting.

"Ha... Haaarryy... Oh fuck..."

She sat back on the bed, glistening with sweat, panting in her afterglow.

"What the fuck is happening? Ooh... I've... I've never been that horny in my life."

She looked even more erotic like this, and Harry's dick was straining at his pants while he watched her. He watched as she sighed a little, her eyelids drooping. Before too long she was out cold, snoring lightly as her breasts rose and fell with her breathing.

Harry looked somewhat disgruntled. Fuckin' bitch! Here I am tent-poling my boxers and she's falling asleep? He looked down at her breasts. They really were perfect - big and soft with huge nipples, but still shapely and perky despite their size. He guessed that was because of the rapid growth. He reached out and touched one again, feeling the weight in his hand as he hefted it, the soft but firm consistency.

Cupid's Arrow was working better than he could ever have hoped. As he stroked the skin again his prick lurched in its prison, and he unzipped his fly, lazily stroking it with one hand as he kept exploring the contours of her tits.

He let go for a moment and pulled his other hand up, squishing her breasts together into a deep line of inviting pale cleavage. He straddled her torso, moving up her body, and squeezed them around his cock as she gave a faint moan in her sleep, the nipples growing hard as her breast skin tugged and pulled at the skin of his cock as he started to jerk himself off with her swollen breasts.

He was so backed up it wasn't long before he started to shake, setting up quivers all through her new breasts as his cock started to jet cum straight up onto her peaceful pretty face. She didn't wake, still out cold from the force of the orgasm that had hit her.

Harry laid down beside her after cleaning her off a little and soon drifted off into a better sleep than he'd had in a long time.

* * *

Harry awoke to the sounds of activity in the room. He looked over at the clock, which was showing considerably earlier than either of them normally got up. He yawned.

"Morning. Why are you up so early?"

She threw a shirt behind her with an exasperated sigh.

"Because I'm trying to find a shirt that'll fit over these things that's still nice enough for work!"