#but this was hot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ftm2bbw · 2 years

Note

For the last ten years or so, you’ve been managing a very unusual hormone disorder. You see, your body responds to stress differently than most people. When your body produces cortisol during stressful situations, it starts a chain reaction of estrogen and growth hormones leading to pronounced swelling. You first noticed it when, during one of your finals in university, your breasts had swollen to the size of cantaloupes under your heavy sweater. For anyone, this would be an embarrassing condition to live with; for a trans man already living with the stress of gender dysphoria, it was down right humiliating. You would almost swear your body started doing this to you as an act of protest against your transitioning. Thankfully, the swelling was temporary, and you had managed to get a good prescription to keep it under control; all you had to do was take two tablets in the morning and one before bed and you could go the entire day without any undue stress-swelling. There was a bit of weight gain as a side effect, but nothing that couldn’t be managed. Though, as you were heading down to bed for the night, you noticed that your pill bottle was nearly empty, just enough for tonight. You made a reminder to see your pharmacist tomorrow about refilling it.

When you arrived at the pharmacy, you were met with a terrible shock. Closed. It seemed your pharmacist had gone for an impromptu vacation, and his assistant was still recovering from the flu, so there was no-one there who could refill your much needed prescription. This was nothing short of a disaster. You needed this. Passing was hard enough, but if the slightest bit of stress sent your estrogen into overdrive, it would be nearly impossible. You could already feel what was going to happen: the stares of strangers as they eye-fucked your ample curves; the calls of “miss”, “young lady”, “she”, and the like; the feeling of your own body betraying you. You could feel your heart racing already, your skin clamming up, your pupils dilating, your breathing getting heavier, and… oh god, not now!

You could feel the effects already. That familiar pressure in your chest began to build itself. It pushed against your binder, straining and pulling the compression fabric. It swelled to that familiar cantaloupe weight from ten years ago, but to your horror it wasn’t stopping. You tried and tried to slow your breathing, to calm yourself down, but the swelling just wouldn’t stop. You were already approaching melon size, feeling your binder tearing at the sides, and quickly running out of room in your sweater. It was getting harder to hide these; the billowy fabric of your sweater pulled tight against your chest, displaying their shape for all who wanted to see. You could already feel the eyes of everyone around you. Some came up to you, curious, asking if you were ok, calling you “miss”. Their concern stung at your psyche and you could feel a pit in your stomach as the swelling sped up. You wrapped your arms around your chest in a pitiful attempt to hide them and you ran to the alleyway behind the pharmacy to keep their eyes off of you.

You collapsed yourself against the wall and slid down into the seating position as the weight on your chest overwhelmed you. The swelling was intense, heaving and buzzing with every breath. Your sweater was unbearably tight against your breasts, heavy cotton pulled to its limit with the sound of fabric tearing filling your ears. With a single resounding tear, your breasts finally broke free of their cotton vice. They landed on your thighs with a resounding slap, heavy and the size of meaty bean bag chairs. Still, they kept swelling, still piling on weight and swallowing up your legs. You couldn’t help but be in awe of the size of them, of how soft and plush they felt. You pressed your hands deep into your breasts, feeling them sink into your flesh, and you felt something awaken in you. You blushed, turning deep red, and felt yourself getting so very, very wet. At that moment, the rate of swelling exploded and you arched your back in an orgasm.

Your breasts grew well past your legs and were quickly swallowing space on the concrete. Like massive water balloons hooked up to a fire hydrant, they sloshed and wobbled in time with your body shuddering in waves of orgasms. In no time you had been pulled to your feet by them as they swelled to the size of sedans. With every added foot to your bust you whimpered and moaned, gripping your chest tightly and grinding against your own breasts. A veritable wall of tit, they closed the gap between you and the opposing building and swelled against them, rising up like dough in the oven. Your back was pressed by your milk-truck tits into the pharmacy, and you could see nothing but your own expanse. In one final, earth shattering orgasm, you shrieked in pleasure and you could feel the swelling stop in your release.

You let out deep sighs of pleasure as you felt your mind unclouding. It suddenly dawned on you just how large you were, and you hoped they would start deflating soon. Although, as you gave your unthinkably massive breasts another press, you thought that maybe they could stand to take their time.

~🍨

The interplay between my embarassment, my arousal, and my growth would be such a mindfuck....and feel so, so, so damn good.

I'd be so horrified that a part of my body I'd tried so hard to bind away was swelling so quickly, and so massively. But it wouldn't stop me from exploring and groping them once I was 'safely' hidden away in the alley. Sinking my hands into my wobbling tits as they practically pulsed with growth...and pleasure.

Some mindlessly horny part of my brain would still be egging them on to grow bigger and more sensitive even as they surpassed any human size. Even being stimulated by the pressure as they pressed up against the walls of the building in front of me.

And part of me wouldn't want to go back on my meds again...

#beyond human size growth usually doesn't do much for me #but this was hot #🍨 anon #ask.txt

12 notes · View notes