Set Escape On

In the community, she went by Boobie Greed. It was straightforward, honest, and yet her commitment to the name was consistently underestimated. It was part of who she was every day; she designed and constructed bras, spent hours researching methods of measuring breasts, tinkered and experimented with both traditional methods and code to figure out how boobs worked. The bosomy data she'd gathered informed much of the code base for the images in countless holos, although that wasn't well known even in the community. Nobody knew boobs better than her, except in one respect.

Fate or genetics or the boob fairy or what have you had left her lacking in the luscious curves she was so obsessed with. She could have gotten mods, of course, except that she knew the data surgeons would try to hold her back. They would tell her what was reasonable, practical, what her image could handle without too much strain. They wouldn't understand how desperately she needed to be unreasonably, impractically busty. She could have gone to an illicit modder, but here she was a victim of her own research. There were too many risks, and all but the very best modders did shoddy work by her standards. So she obsessed, and pretended in holos, and dreamed.

Boobie Greed had gotten a call from BalloonBobbie, who she'd worked with before on getting precise volumetrics for her inflation art. She was, after all, the person to talk to if you needed to know how gallons of water would affect tits. This time, though, the visit wasn't about art, it was about a bra. Bobbie had suddenly acquired round, inflated boobs bigger than she could readily find garments for, and she needed to be measured and fitted. They had almost no weight to them, and were certainly not following any of the normal rules for how breasts behaved, but that just meant it was more of a challenge. After taking numerous measurements, discussing styles, and simply catching up, the two ladies parted, and Boobie Greed took the train home. If only that kind of growth or condition or what have you could happen to her, just randomly getting crazily huge from some quirk of the simulation. Her legs were tingling from the long ride, and she stretched as she walked to her couch.

She started sketching out designs on her datapad; balloons didn't really need support, more containment or presentation. Wow, her legs really ached. She pointed her toes to get her calves to stretch...and touched the far armrest. That wasn't normal. She set her datapad down, looked down the length of her body, and saw that her legs had gotten longer. She would be at least a foot taller now, and the ache hadn't abated. If anything, it was rising, creeping up her thighs and bringing visible growth with it. As the feeling approached her hips, it soothed to more of a gentle stretch, and while she was probably pushing eight feet tall now, the growth showed signs of changing to more outward than upward.

Her thighs plumped thicker, becoming soft, feminine columns each as wide as her waist, which would have looked silly were it not for her hips and bottom keeping pace, filling out under her skirt until they had to be, what, five feet around? Six? More? She should be better at estimating measurements, but it was far too distracting when it was herself, so all she could say for sure was that it looked and felt wonderful. She could feel that strange sensation still rising up her torso, but it was quiet now, and she didn't see much growth at all, until...oh.

Oh yes. Finally.

She had boobs. Still small as of yet, even by mainstream standards, perhaps on the top end of a B cup, but that stretching feeling, the mild ache of growth, wasn't fading in the slightest. She hardly dared hope as she stood, stumbling a little as she adjusted to the balance of her much longer, heavier legs, and hurried to her wardrobe, having to duck to get through doorways. She retrieved her largest bra, a vast expanse of flower-print fabric she used as a reference for her most full-figured designs, which she'd acquired from a specialty shop for women at the heights of what nature could provide, and put it on with nervous fingers.

It looked almost ludicrous, designed for breasts many times the volume she had now, but maybe not for long. She stared transfixed at her chest as the massive cups slowly filled with soft, jiggling mass, her breasts reaching what most people would consider big in under a minute, and they weren't slowing. In her mind, it was as though she could see a steady parade of letters as she watched her own boobs become living examples of one cup size after another, a recitation of her hard-earned knowledge ticking off a milestone every few seconds.

Within a minute, the bra merely looked a bit too large. Thirty seconds later, a thrill went through her as she realized she had filled it; her dream had come true, she had tits big enough to fill a bra as large as you could get outside of custom design. But the growth didn't stop there. She felt the garment tighten as her enormous boobs began to push out above the cups, overfilling it more and more, refusing to stop. Not that she wanted them to. A last gasp of rationality made her unhook the bra and toss it aside; she was too big for it anyway, and ruining it would be a waste, even if it sounded fun.

She sat on her bed, finding that the length of her thighs nearly spanned its width. Legs that just kept going and going for almost six feet, hips that a full-grown man would struggle to wrap his arms around, and breasts that defied containment? She was living every dream she'd ever had, grinning uncontrollably, as the soft, heavy flesh continued to mount, filling her arms with warmth. Several minutes later, when the wondrous growth finally ended, she was bigger than Bobbie, except the equivalent volume of 16-inch spheres was far more weighty when it was all tit and not balloons. She found she could still move, a blessing from whatever had done this to her, although it was going to take some getting used to. It was more than worth the hassle, though. She was going to need new clothes; who did she know that made clothing for giantesses?

Jenna always found it fascinating to learn about subtle gradations in the kinks that made up and were adjacent to the size community. She'd spent a few hours working with Redforge on the clothing animations, and was struck by the way a visual element as simple as how a pair of jeans got destroyed could make or break an effect. The ones she'd tried on, for instance, did have mechanics built in for tearing apart during an expansion, but Red had originally made them in service of a giantess growth holo.

There, the trick was slow ripping, a seam here, a stitch there, until the steady push of expansion in all directions left the pants in tatters. For an inflation, that wouldn't do; the kink was all about stretching and straining up to a critical point, followed by catastrophic material failure. She and Red had gone back and forth on the design, finding ways to model different behavior for different types of growth, aiming more for the desired effect than a physics-accurate simulation of every fiber. It was going to work out perfectly well, and they could genericize it for use on arbitrary garments, which would speed up a lot of development on clothing.

Thinking about the intersections and variations in the size kink community had sparked another concern, though. Her models looked fine on the holoforms, and on her, but she hadn't checked how they affected characters with more extreme bodies, ones that were less routinely human-shaped. That was going to be important, and she'd rather not assume that every animation would function properly with every image. She pulled up the console to flash over to where the more exotic character models were being developed, intending to get some hands-on integration testing done.

Jen preferred to be herself in the simulation, it was simply more comfortable to be in a copy of her real image or close to it, and that was relatively common. Others, like the project's art lead ElkFlame, kept their private selves hidden behind a public avatar, an appearance that was identifiable as them to their fans, but entirely unlike their face in Cyberdream. The process of creating a character and then playing the role of that character, however, had been a part of the community for as long as anyone could remember. Taking it a step further, if you could be anyone, why not be anything? She put out a general call for volunteers for expansion tests, and quickly got exactly the replies she was looking for. There were people registered to the holo behind every character she inflated over the next few hours, even if she would never know their names or how they looked, but the characters were, in many important ways, just as real, and she counted them among her friends.

One of her most popular animations was a full-body juice filling, which a fascinating bunny-minotaur woman named Maria seemed eager to try. Jen was worried that the fur, horns, or tail might not mesh, but it was pretty smooth; in a matter of minutes, she was round and firm, slightly green, with her breasts still prominent despite the general curvature of her frame. Mike, her draconic companion, certainly seemed to approve of the effect; Jen used the console to call up a milker, took a few notes (making sure to add some sort of ballooning effect to the tail, instead of just leaving it be) and left them to their fun.

Belly inflations were always tricky; they often created visual artifacts when they got beyond a pregnancy-appropriate size, and the smaller the frame they were attached to, the more likely they were to glitch. Jen was thus pleased to meet Seven, a rather eccentric and, important for her purposes, quite vertically challenged goblin girl. The inflation used Jen's preferred non-continuous flow, and Seven loved the effect of the air swirling inside with each pulse. It took Jen's practiced eye to see where the image wasn't quite perfectly meshing once the huge green sphere was nearly as wide across as the diminutive lady was tall, a minor visual issue that shouldn't take too long to tweak, and Seven didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

A lovely bird-like lady by the name of Cheeto gave a breast expansion model quite the workout; Jen was confident that her code knew what to do with skin or hair, but the glossy blue-black feathers Cheeto sported were more concerning. A quick analysis of how the character model was designed, however, suggested that the routines were similar enough that it should work. Indeed it did; the plush kenku girl went smoothly from B-cups to well past the alphabet with nary a glitch, and many a coo of delight.

The only time Jen really got nervous about the quality of her work was when trying her new butt inflation on Death Lust. First, because the girl's rump was already of a quite prodigious size, and second because she was a pony. Literally; not a human with some horse-like traits, not an anthropomorphic equine, an actual pony. As she feared, there were a few glitches; visually it looked almost perfect, a few problems meshing that only Jen would have recognized, which of course she did and made notes about. Without a human frame, however, the volumetrics got a little bit out of whack. Jen only meant to take her up to about double her original size, but the incrementation on a variable must have gotten stuck somehow, and Death Lust ended the test with at least six times her normal volume bouncing tautly behind her. Fortunately, the entire group was an affable bunch, who not only took their new size in stride, they seemed eager to try out new scenarios involving it. Jenna resolved to visit again, maybe with a character of her own.

She'd put in several productive hours, and with the progress she made today, she was feeling more confident in the project than ever. Still, she was getting that fuzzy feeling in the back of her head that meant her real image was wearing down, and she needed to rest. She deregistered from the holo, and stretched to relieve the stiffness. But something was...off. She put her hands down on the couch to push herself up, and her hands didn't hit the couch. They hit her hips. Jen looked down, and her eyes went wide. She'd been absolutely right about catastrophic material failure. "What the...my ass!?"

Shannon, who was known to her colleagues and customers as Redforge, had also finished up a long day of design work after meeting with Jen. She bent her neck to and fro, rolled her shoulders, and flexed her ankles until they popped a little. Shannon also felt like she needed to get to the gym, but largely because she did so regularly. Despite her career designing garments for use in holos, she tried not to spend more time sedentary than was necessary for her work. That dedication had paid off; she was powerfully muscled, befitting her original role as a blacksmith (even if she did work with code and image, not hammer and anvil), and more fit than most people living in a simulation ever found reason to be. She'd worked until late, though, so she decided on an evening run through the park instead of a trip to the gym.

Shannon threw on some workout clothes and headed out, taking the short jog to her favorite path. The one regret she had about her body was that her fitness and her genetics had left her mostly lacking in feminine curves. It was what had drawn her to the size enthusiast community; people there liked big, strong girls, and were happy to make art that portrayed them bigger, stronger, and with tits and ass to spare. She could have gotten mods, but that felt like cheating. As she picked up her pace, she imagined how this run could go differently in the holo they were building, how some mysterious circumstance could make her top fill up with more bounce on each step, make her toned ass swell bigger until its well-muscled size could stop traffic, maybe even slowly scale her up and up and up until she was well above the treetops. She could almost hear the slow ripping of the fabric, feel the difference in how each stride landed with her new, voluptuously distributed mass. She stumbled for a moment, the daydream felt so real.

As she snapped out of her fantasies, she glanced down, only to see that it wasn't all her imagination. Her sports bra, designed more for modesty than to actually contain a bosom of any substance, was struggling to handle a pair of plump, firm breasts that were getting fuller by the second. The fabric of her athletic pants was tight against her skin, small tears appearing at her widening hips and the muscular swell of her thighs and calves. Her shoes were increasingly uncomfortable, and the bench she'd stopped by was looking smaller than it should. It was actually happening! She didn't know how, but she was growing, her body gradually ripping her outfit to shreds as her size and power inexorably increased.

Shannon was fairly sure she should be worried, as this was hardly normal, but certainly there would be time to correct matters later. Her shoes burst apart by the time she was eight feet tall, her sports bra didn't survive past ten feet, and her pants gave up the ghost at twelve. Her bosom and bottom were keeping up a slightly faster pace than the rest of her, not enough that she was unrealistically proportioned but plenty to make her an icon of feminine strength. While she wasn't getting noticeably more muscular, her sheer size emphasized her already impressive physique, and she felt like she could juggle tanks. Her growth was slow but steady, and as the tops of the trees sank to eye level, she laughed joyously. The park had been empty, but it wasn't going to stay that way for long; nobody could miss her now.

The Redforge cluster, as well as several smaller outbreaks, were at widely scattered points around the globe, far from the main epicenter of the incident in Boston. Luckily, spread of the effects through the size community's shared holo was limited, seemingly tied more closely to contact with Patient Zero herself than was necessary in Cyberdream proper, and Jenna's activities within the holo were limited prior to containment. Also fortunate was the fact that the more exotic aspects of the individuals she contacted were so specific to the roleplaying functions of the simulation that they weren't replicated outside of it, or else the damage to Cyberdream's integrity might have been insurmountable.

The individuals behind the less human characters still felt the effects, but their real images remained largely intact, save for those with mods that could be built upon. Had the routines remained isolated to the expansion and transformation communities, surprisingly populous though they proved to be, the incident might not even have been particularly newsworthy; even the HotFloof cluster was largely contained to the local furry community, and Redforge proved intimidating enough to only attract a limited number of what she called "tinies." That enviable degree of isolation was not to remain the case, however.

Nina was feeling particularly energetic as she prepped for her self defense class, slipping the workout clothes over her slim frame and readjusting her signature two-tailed hairstyle to keep it out of the way. For one, they were sparring today, and it was always a lot of fun to toss the other girls around. Or get tossed around by them, whichever. What had really gotten her motor running, though, was the lunch she'd just had at her friend Bobbie's apartment. Apparently, a glitch or random mod or lucky break had happened to her the day before, and her boobs had gotten huge!

When she'd walked in, Nina had thought Bobbie was playing a trick, teasing her over her obsession with breasts by stuffing a couple of fully inflated beach balls under a big t-shirt. It had taken her several seconds to process it when Bobbie lifted the shirt and those enormous, round spheres turned out to actually be her tits. They were so firm, and surprisingly light, but from the way she reacted to being touched (Nina hadn't been able to help herself) they were definitely real. Bobbie couldn't explain it, and she was going to see a data surgeon in a few days to make sure she was alright, but they were awesome. Nina wished something like that would happen to her. And maybe to this super cute girl she was sparring with. Throughout the session, as they swapped partners, Nina couldn't help but imagine how hot it would be if everyone in the place just exploded out of their tops.

A few of the participants left after the first half-session, but there were still a half dozen people sticking around for the free practice. Nina's chest felt tight, her heart was beating fast from the exercise and from her fantasizing, it was a little hard to breathe. She could swear all the women who stayed were remarkably busty. She was so distracted, her next sparring partner dropped her hard, and as she hit the ground, she felt her bra snap. As she pulled herself back up, there was a lot more jiggling going on than there should be; she stepped back and glanced down her top. What the...it was happening!

Her breasts were at least twice as big as they'd been that morning, and sounds of surprise from around the room told her she wasn't the only one. This wasn't like Bobbie's, it didn't look like balloons, it was just boob, and a lot of it. Everywhere Nina looked, girls were filling their shirts, pulling them off, busting out of bras; some were panicked, some were into it, but they were all looking so incredibly hot. Nina felt her own chest pushing at the seams of her top; she wanted to feel it burst.

It wasn't long before she got her wish, the fabric unable to withstand the voluminous flesh that continued to billow outward. She was getting absolutely massive, the weight of breasts that she could barely reach her arms around dragging her to her knees. Every other woman in the place was in the same boat; she shuddered with pleasure as her burgeoning boobs pressed against the pliable softness of her sparring partner's titanic tatas, and they just wouldn't stop. She wished she knew who to thank, because this was heaven.