With a loud SMACK, your mom releases your nipple from her lips. Patting you on the head, she hauls herself off of you and loosens the ropes holding you in place, allowing you to free yourself. This is a longstanding tradition at your house: as soon as you get home each day, your mom strips your shirt off, straps you down, and spends the next couple hours greedily suckling your gigantic breasts. "You had your turn with mine," she says, "so consider this payback." As you untie the last of the knots securing your feet, your mom makes an announcement.
"Well, honey," she says, "I've been reading the most interesting books, if you're interested."
You say nothing, but look up at your mother anyway. In her pudgy hands she holds a thick book entitled "Eat and Exercise Your Way to a Bigger Bust: Third Edition." She thrusts it at you and rests it on your breasts. "It's just full of helpful tips," your mom says. "I think you should go on the diet in there. Your boobs aren't getting bigger as fast as they used to."
"Mom!"
"What? Can't your mother want you to get bigger titties for the boys and girls to play with?" She folds her huge arms in front of her ample bust and glares down at you. You silence yourself, knowing it's best not to argue with her when she's in this mood. She's been known to get ... physical when punishing you for disobedience. Just last weekend, in fact, when you refused to take your top off on a cold day, she gagged you, stripped you naked, and tied you to a tree outside while paddling your ass. After an hour, she brought you inside and made you her human seat cushion for the rest of the day.
"I've also found an interesting little hormone pill I'm going to make you start taking," she adds, snapping you back to the present.
"What?" you ask.
"A hormone, dear. It's a food supplement that will help you start lactating, which will make your boobies so much more fun to play with. Won't that be grand?"
She's smiling wickedly now. You nod weakly, and she claps her hands and leaves you be. Sighing and shutting the door behind her, you log onto your computer. As part of your habit, you check the various websites you've posted your ... fantasies on, to see if you've gotten any responses. You haven't to date but ... hang on, what's this? A reply?
You click the link and read a message from someone called "Hungry4U." It reads,
"Dear Chesty_Morsel,
"My, my, my, don't you look delicious. I've eaten quite a lot of young girls in my time, and I must say you look the prettiest--and your tits the tastiest--of them all. And you're so articulate, too! I can't tell you how many girls I've eaten who couldn't be bothered to type the extra two letters in 'you;' if I didn't enjoy eating people so much I'd just quit. But you, my dear, can throw a sentence together, and that's got my mouth watering even more.
"But where are my manners? Hello, dear. My name, for now, is Hungry4U. I am a 39-year-old woman who enjoys eating pretty young girls like yourself. If you are interested in being my dinner, and I assume you are, please email me so we can set up an appointment. I'll be looking forward to hearing from you, my delectable young gal."
Your heart races in your chest. This is exactly what you went looking for! But ... is it what you want? Really? You suddenly aren't sure. On the other hand, staying here means your mom is going to force-feed you to grow your breasts even more than they are now, and then milk you to get her jollies! Is that what you want?
After sitting down and thinking for a moment ...
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