Witless Protection Program

It was very successful in my experience, making my breasts, and especially my nipples, huge erogenous zones. Huge in multiple senses, because Nikki had thoughtfully arranged for me to once again take my position as the bustiest member of the Squad. At first my breasts seemed to swell more slowly than Nikki's had, but once they got going they achieved almost precisely the same rate of expansion: 10.3% daily. Once my breast volume had been undergoing sustained expansion of over 10% per day for a week, any possible lingering doubt as to whether I was augmented or not was put to rest and I'd once again surpassed Nikki. However, instead of the process slowing again after eight days as Nikki's had, it kept going full tilt for almost a a full fortnight, then took the better part of another week to slow to a stop.

The duration of the expansion surprised the clinic, and they were delighted with the reaction. Not my reaction; the reaction of the public to 'Bubbles' daily growth and excited testimony as to how good it felt. That is, my excited testimony, which I admit was not fabricated, though it was elicited at the behest of the clinic sponsors. Of course there were the usual hemming and hawing in the media about naive young women being taken advantage of, and others who outright disbelieved my testimonials, but even for the tut-tutters, it captured the imagination. With so many layers of indirection between my true identity and 'Bubbles', I thought that I might escape being lastingly infamous, and in the meantime it felt just as good as I claimed.

I didn't even feel like it was really a bad thing. Sure, the clinic was somehow mob-backed, but it seemed like it was a way for women who wanted augmentations to get them without a lot of added weight, and with undeniable improvements in sexual experience. For me at least, they were proportionally enormous, and I was not exaggerating in the slightest when I said that I could easily orgasm just from playing with my own breasts. What it took me a little while to grasp was that during the fastest expansion my libido had been completely out of control as a probable side-effect of nitrous oxides released from lipid bubbles when manipulating my breast tissue. The effect seemed weaker after the primary expansion had completed, but I could still perceive a distinct sense of euphoric dissociation when my breasts were being fondled.

Forewarned is forearmed, so I was able to stop myself from signing a longer term contract as an 'influencer' for the clinic's treatments, which were of dubious legality, regardless of how well they worked. What I'd already signed protected them from liability or me saying negative things about them, but they did say that Kayley would continue to receive an extra stipend as long as I didn't say anything 'defamatory' about them. It was probably more effective than trying to hire me anyway, because while I might have felt good about giving their money back in the case that I felt compelled to rubbish them in the press, I was much more leery of complicating Hayley's ambition of social media empire.

Regardless, Bubbles was irretrievably launched into the memetic firmament and the media seemed determined to track me down. They didn't know my real name, such as it was, but they found ways to contact me, and I felt it prudent to give an interview to a reporter from a more reputable news service where I could feel confident they would safeguard my private information. I didn't peel away many layers of the onion, but I did at least provide proof that Honey Suckle and Bubbles were the same person, and that I had both reached my legal majority and was not being exploited by my media-savvy friends. At least, I did my best to press home the second point as best I could without revealing that I was much smarter than I seemed. Thus it became known that I was a high school dropout who had worked as dog-walker and cam girl, and that I was ecstatic with the enhancements that Nikki had selected for me.

Even with all that, I felt there was a strong subtextual implication that the journalist thought I was being taken advantage of but was too naive to understand it. Despite that subtext, though, the article did at least scotch some darker rumors in the process of confirming for all the world that I was a natural born bimbo, even if I'd needed medical help to inhabit the role physically.

The title of the piece was, "A Blonde Has More Fun: Bubbles Rising"

The New Girl

The other girls in the Squad knew I didn't want outsiders to know my real name so they referred to me as Bubbles in public. That may seem backwards, but I should explain that it wasn't easy to go anywhere without being recognized as Bubbles. That's not to say that I was a household name, exactly, but I couldn't go anywhere without everyone immediately recognizing me as one of those trashy-famous girls. The biggest issue, literally and figuratively, was that I was just really hugely busty, far beyond any bra manufacturer's standard cup sizes. My bust completely dominated my silhouette from every angle in a way that could not be disguised or really even minimized. Not that the idea of doing so occurred to me at the time. My breasts embarrassed me from time to time, but I would no more have tried to hide them beneath layers of draped cloth than I would have donned a top hat and clown shoes.

Fortunately they were far, far lighter than they would have been if I'd been augmented by silicone, so the crop tops and custom sports bras I used to show them off only had to support about 6kg of flesh rather than three times as much. Whilst they were incomparably softer than the firm spheres attached to the chests of the occasional dedicated big-bust model in the world with implants of similar volume, they tended to spring back to their preferred shape in a way that made them jiggle and sway like giant jellies whenever I moved at all suddenly, making me even more conspicuous.

But there was no being anything else. Even from the neck up I looked like a pretty dimwit, with my swollen lips, oversized lashes, wide eyes accentuated by permanently pigmented eyeliner, and resting blank face. Because my vacant expression wasn't especially misleading, there was no point in objecting to being treated like a bimbo. I mean, I basically was a sort of bimbo while I was in witness protection, whether I was Honey or Bubbles. Just a secretly smart sort.

So when a new girl arrived at the Hot House to join the Squad, I was introduced as Bubbles and didn't even think to correct the introduction. I don't know if it was an intentional effort to preserve my privacy or if my mates had decided Bubbles was a better name, but I certainly didn't object.

The new girl's name was Andrea, and she was in the witness protection program as well, though I wasn't able to discern whether she was someone from the lab, or someone else who had undergone a CHANGE in the meantime. I was pretty sure she'd undergone the CHANGE rather than solely an X-25-derived transformation, because the CHANGE had a particular interaction with melanocytes that tended to brighten iris coloration in characteristic ways that I believed I could see in her eyes. I also thought she was perhaps familiar in some way, but that could easily have been because she'd gone through some of the same mafia-sponsored enhancements that Nikki and I had, and was just as ditzy.

I watched her somewhat closely, when I remembered to do so, because I tried to place her amongst the members of the laboratory where we'd worked. She watched me, too, though her eyes mostly tracked the gyrations of my breasts or the jostling of my buttocks.

"Why aren't you, like, a porn star? Not just Nikki's guest star, but on your own."

"I don't know. I guess it seems like a big commitment," I said.

"A commitment?" Andrea asked, nonplussed.

"Yeah, you have to build a fanbase and keep them happy and all that. I don't think I'm cut out for it."

"Girl, just show your tits. That'll keep them happy."

"They're always demanding more from Nikki," I pointed out, "So then she always has to come up with some new thing."

Andrea seemed to consider that for a moment. "So what do you want to do?"

She was looking at my boobs when she said it, so I sort of forgot the context of her question. "Whatever you want," I said with a smile as I tweaked my nipples slightly through my body suit.

"That's not what I meant," she clarified uncomfortably.

"Oh, yeah," I said, but because I couldn't recall what we'd just been talking about, I added, "What did you mean again?"

"I was asking what you want to do to support yourself."

"My bodysuit is doing fine," I said, bouncing one boob with my hand to show that it was adequately supported. "My boobies aren't as heavy as they look. Wait, no, that's still not what you meant," I said, trying and failing to get my mind off sex. Andrea was just too hot and the way she was looking at my breasts made me want her lips on them so bad.

"How do you intend to make money, if porn isn't for you?" she asked one more time.

Happy to finally remember the question properly, I blurted out, "Research!" just a moment before I recalled that this was not something I was supposed to share. So I added, "People like to use my body for research n' will pay me and stuff."

That answer banished the funny look Andrea was giving me and replaced it with one of mild pity. "They won't pay you much for long, Bubbles."

"Oh," I said disappointedly. "Well, there's gotta be something I can do to be productive with my boobs besides porn. And escorting," I added, because Andrea had a slightly speculative look in her eyes.

"I wasn't going to suggest it, but why not escorting?"

"I'm not a classy sort, and I don't trust that the punters wouldn't take advantage of a girl who can't remember anything. Might forget to make them wear a rubber, for example. Don't want to get pregnant, or a disease."

"You probably don't have to worry about disease," she said somewhat enigmatically, "But why not pregnant? Not cut out for motherhood?"

I flushed at the mention. I hadn't really considered if I'd be a good mother or not. I'd mostly considered that it wouldn't be a good idea to get pregnant in my changed body because of all the ways foreign DNA introduced through pregnancy might interact with the CHANGE and X-25 alterations. "I don't imagine I could raise a child without support."

"What if the father supported you?" she asked gently, and I understood her subtext: if I wasn't to be a porn star, then housewife would likely be my next best option. Probably true, were it not that I was tolerably sure my condition could still be reversed, or at least improved. Still, I found the suggestion more offensive than I would have expected.

"I don't fancy being any man's wife," I said plainly, and she seemed to accept that I didn't want to discuss it any further.

The Abduction

With a seventh girl, the house was really packed, and I was especially frustrated by how difficult it was to get time to myself to continue my studies and my correspondence with REDOWL, which had suddenly resumed and involved a number of surprisingly detailed and perceptive questions about how the CHANGE worked. How exactly this was linked to the ongoing case my correspondent did not explain, but reading between the lines gave me the idea that they were confident that they had nearly caught the culprit. My time as Bubbles, I thought, was reaching its end. It had been fun, but Andrea's questions had reminded me that Bubbles had no future.

But then yet again, mobsters barged in, ransacked the whole flat, and took Brandy away. They also took our electronics, threatening us and Brandy if we didn't give them our passwords. When we objected that we'd be unable to pay rent or anything else without our phones and computers, they said we'd get them back intact as long as we didn't try to go to the police.

I was terrified for Brandy despite their assurances that she wouldn't be harmed, and a little worried that they would figure out that I had been using my computer for far more than I admitted, but I had continued being careful with my biotech research, this time around keeping all my documents and findings on remote cloud services that I only accessed in incognito mode. It didn't really occur to me that they wouldn't be telling the truth about returning our devices unharmed, but when they came back they all blank. I couldn't tell if this had been a lie or the thugs simply hadn't recognized that our devices without their data were of little use to us, but that was the case.

The mobsters were quick to take advantage of our situation, however, offering to help us recover our data and also pay our bills in return for us doing a little work for them. For most of them it was easy enough. For example, Kayley promoted a mobster's girlfriend's Insta, Nikki did a couple of crossovers with another moll's ForFans, and Jade provided makeup for both. I thought I'd be able to join in with Nikki's crossover, but when the moll saw me and my rack she didn't want 'that dumbass cow's titties crowding the whole video.'

Another option was for me to attend some important mobster's private party 'purely as eye-candy, no sex stuff,' but I didn't trust that, either. So, Andrea negotiated for me to join her in another clinical trial, this time for a topical ointment rather than giving the mod clinic another shot at my body.

Or so I was led to believe.

It proved to be a residential clinical trial, entailing a stay at a clinic-controlled facility which we were not allowed to leave. I didn't know this until we were already there, and I felt very pressured to consent to my own kidnapping both because Andrea was there with me expecting me to join her in the study, and because I felt like the mobsters still had Brandy as a hostage at the time I signed the consent forms.

I was allowed to bring all my things, such as they were, and they provided internet access, so I wasn't cut off from the world and I was even able to answer REDOWL's inquiries in a brief way. After the packed flat, it wasn't as if the supplied residence was so small, either. In fact, I once would have considered it quite an upgrade, but I found that I missed my Squad and didn't really trust Andrea. Not that Andrea gave any specific reasons to distrust her, but I did feel like perhaps she had tricked me a little.

Her motive seemed obvious; she loved being my ointment application partner, and delighted in extracting little orgasms from me with the sensuality of her massage technique. I can't say I didn't enjoy it, but there was something about the way she would murmur questions in my ear while she was doing it that made me feel strangely thoughtful afterwards. In the throes of my erotic disassociation I couldn't remember what exactly she'd said or how I'd answered her, but I felt like some of it wasn't as erotic as one would think, given our blossoming sexual relationship.

That's what made me think her interest was more than sexual. She seemed a little possessive, in fact, and a bit bossy at times, though mostly in a good way. The one part I didn't like was that after she got me off she wouldn't let me return the favour. Granted, I did my best to make her enjoy it, but she had a rule that we shouldn't go below the waist because there might be hidden cameras, making it virtually impossible for me to give her back any of the orgasms she'd given me.

The Reunion

After a week at the clinic, I heard from Nikki that Brandy was back but couldn't remember what had happened while she'd been gone. I wanted to leave the study then, until Andrea reminded me that even with Brandy back we could still piss off the mobsters.

Fortunately the rest of the time at the clinic really flew, and before I knew it we were all together back at the flat.

"You look amazing, Bubbles!" Nikki said, pulling my boobs out of my top without even asking. "Are they bigger, or is it just the shine?"

"The shine?" I asked, a little startled to realize that my chest had indeed acquired a slight taut and shiny look. I supposed that it had developed so slowly that I hadn't noticed.

"No, they're definitely bigger," she said, lifting them in her hands to test. "And heavier. Don't you agree?"

Kayley took custody of my tits and nodded her agreement. "The nipples are the most obvious."

"That just happened," I said wondering how I had previously explained it to myself as a product of being late in my cycle. They weren't only bigger, they were slightly darker and felt different.

"What was this topical ointment?" Kayley asked with professional interest, "And when do you reckon it will be available for sale?"

"It didn't work as well for Andrea, though. Bubbles gets all the luck," Nikki said enviously.

"It's not supposed to make your breasts bigger, though," Andrea said with a shrug, "I guess it sneaked up on me that she was getting bigger."

That made me feel a bit better. If Andrea didn't notice when she had her hands on them multiple times every day, then maybe I couldn't be expected to notice either.

But once I started trying on some of the clothes I hadn't worn in a while I realized that I'd really undergone some significant changes. My breasts felt much heavier, and were feeling much tighter, besides having grown significantly rounder and more prominent. I didn't necessarily look like I had implants, but they had a faintly swollen look and feel about them.

That night we went out to the strip club to celebrate, and once again they selected Angel to give me a lap dance while the others watched and called suggestions. I don't know quite how it happened, but at some point she listened to my friends urging her to pop my tits out of my top and play with them. You might think that I would be so used to this that I would be able to contain myself, but I was not.

"I see why they call you Bubbles now," Angel murmured in my ears with her hands on my bubbles.

"Yeah," I breathed.

"They feel okay?" she asked, "Am I pressing too hard?"

"Don't worry, you can't hurt me, Angel," I assured her, "Do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" she asked, this time loud enough for everyone to hear. "What if I want to do this?" She tugged at my nipples in time to her dancing and I gasped with pleasure.

"Oh god," I moaned, gripping the chair arms hard.

"Or this?" she added with a playful nibble on my teat, just enough to feel her incisors.

I yelped in alarmed excitement after she'd already let me go, and she laughed, but she also made sure to reestablish eye contact to assess how things were going. I wasn't really comfortable with what was happening, but I also didn't want to give her the idea that I was actually upset, so I gave her a little smile and nod.

Angel must have been really into it herself, because she took that as license to push the bounds even more, and soon she was actually sucking my nipples in time to the beat and I was paralyzed by the strength of my approaching orgasm. When it hit, I experienced a strange tingling warmth all through my vast breasts, like they were orgasming as well.

When I had recovered enough to open my eyes, Angel had released my breasts in surprise, milk dribbling from her mouth.

"Did I just?" I asked, wide-eyed.

Angel swallowed and confirmed, "Yes you did."

"Does she taste good?" Andrea asked.

"She does!" Angel said, laughing.

"You shouldn't let it go to waste then, right?" Andrea said mischievously.

Angel looked up at me to see how I felt, and I can't tell you what my expression was, but I can tell you that Angel made me come several more times. Somewhere in the mix Nikki had joined in so that I didn't mess myself with any more milk ejaculations.

"That was the wildest thing I've ever done during a lap dance," Angel told me afterwards, which made me feel very complimented.