Lab Story

I had waited my entire life for a chance like this. I had worked hard to be in this position, with this level of responsibility and misplaced trust. When I was young I had fantasies about women with breasts that expanded to incredible size. I had written stories, drawn pictures, searched the Internet... but now I had the chance to make all my dreams come true. Unfortunately, once I did this, I would never have another chance. I had to get it right the first time. No room for mistakes here.

I was head of research at a small university, testing different drugs and theories on willing college students in need of money (as college students often are). One particular student piqued my curiosity. I taught a small chemics class, and she sat in the front row. She was short, about five foot four, but that only accented her over large breasts. At least DDs and maybe even Es, they seemed to be even larger on her small frame. Her name was ****, and she was a tease with the campus guys. She rarely went on dates, but often flirted. I had big things in mind for her.

I had waited so long for this moment. It was all I could think about as I worked my way through today's lesson. Near the end, I announced a new test that I would be conducting and that I needed only a female volunteer. The pay would be very good, and the risk was slim. **** was the only girl in the entire class of about twenty, so naturally she could be the only volunteer. She walked up to the podium when the bell rang, her breasts shifting up and down as she walked.

"So professor, what exactly does this test entail?" she asked. I could barely keep myself from shaking as my carefully laid plans came together at last.

The next day it was Saturday, and also the date of the experiment. I had told **** that we would be testing some sort of new chemical that one of the campus's sponsored field biologists had discovered in a rain forest plant this month. It was said to be helpful in preventing common diseases like colds, I had said. She seemed thrilled to be a part in such a breakthrough, and I had watched as she hurried to her next class, her huge breasts bouncing under an all too tight sweater. The laboratory was empty, most of the staff gone home for the weekend. **** arrived late, her chest heaving and her face lined with light perspiration.

"Sorry, but my car battery died," she apologized.

"No problem, ****." She was wearing a tight cleavage-revealing button down sweater and stretch pants that almost made me go stiff right there, but I kept myself in check for the time being. I didn't need to ruin this before it even started. "Let's get you set up." I pointed towards a table with metal restraints. She seemed a little startled, and gave me a questioning look, but obliged.

"Afraid I'm gonna run off on you?" she asked after laying down on the table, a little puzzled.

"Not at all," I said lying. "Just a precaution. This chemical may cause discrepancies in your nervous system that cause short term minor seizures, but that is all. Nothing major."

"Right," she said, unconvinced. I had her all strapped in to the table now, with her arms held out to her sides and her legs spread eagled. It was time. I brought out a small syringe and inserted the needle directly below her right breast, pushed the plunger halfway in, and then did the same to the left, finishing off it's contents. She squirmed a little, but otherwise didn't resist. The contents of the syringe had been seperated down the middle by a flexible divider until insertion. I had just given each of her breasts a healthy dose of an unstable compound I had discovered while working on campus. It was a highly volatile mix of several gasses that reacted violently when mixed. I waited five minutes, then ten, then fifteen. Nothing happened.

"Are you going to let me go now?" she asked.

"Of course," I mumbled. I couldn't believe what had just happened, or to put it correctly, what hadn't happened. I had tested the compound before, and it had never failed before today. "But I want you to check in Monday to report any symptoms." I released her from the table and she left hurriedly.

"I'll see you Monday then," she said as she closed the door behind her.

"Yep," I said to myself. "I'll see you then." I went home that night and drank myself to sleep.

The next day I woke up on my couch, with a bottle of vodka laying on the floor half drained onto the rug. My bathrobe was laying open and I quickly closed it. The doorbell had rung several times, and I wondered groggily who it could possibly be. I walked over to the door unsteadily and propped myself against the frame as I shifted the deadbolt. I opened the door. It was **** standing outside my door in a large heavy raincoat. It was raining lightly outside. "I thought I said to check in Monday."

"It couldn't wait that long, professor," she said. I could barely make out her shape under the huge raincoat, especially since I was still recovering from a nasty hangover. "Something has happened." She stepped inside and took off her raincoat. I just about came on the spot, but kept myself in check. She was still wearing her clothes from last night, only now her sweater was pulled so tight that I could tell the buttons couldn't hold on much longer. Her large round breasts were the size of volleyballs, and slowly expanding. The knit of her sweater was spreading further and further apart. "Professor, do something!" she shouted, waking me from my groggy condition.

"We'd better get you back to the lab," I said, finally coming to my senses. "Get into my truck." I took **** by the hand and led her out the door, but her chest had swollen so far that she had trouble fitting. She had to climb in the bed because there was no way she would fit in and out of the cab. With her heavy raincoat on she barely drew a second look from anyone. About ten minutes later we arrived at the lab and she had grown even larger. The double doors of the laboratory easily admitted her, but I wondered if she would ever be able come out.

"Sit down on the table, and let me fit the restraints," I said. Her breasts were already lifting a bit in the air, and I knew she would soon float off. She sat down uneasily as I explained this to her.

"Jesus!" she exclaimed after I had her clamped down. A button flew off her shirt and it loosened a little. Then another, and another, until the front of her severely stretched sweater lay open, and her sports bra (this was a change. usually she never wore one) held on for dear life. Her breasts were past volleyball size and were halfway between that and beachballs. Her face twisted horribly, as it seemed that her bra was actually preventing further inflation... Until I noticed her left leg. It was now slightly larger than her right, and pushing her stretch pants further and further out. Her right leg joined in as the left leg filled the pantleg. I stood by and watched. I had never researched an antidote chemical, so there was nothing to do but enjoy it. The results of my experiment were visible in my pants, as there was a rather large bulge in the front as I allowed myself to openly enjoy it.

"Professor! What the hell are you doing! This is no time to get yippee on your skippy!"

I tuned her out. Soon her legs filled out her stretchpants and her arms inflated almost in unison. She completely filled out all of her clothing now, and had nowhere to go. She screamed, and she inhaled deeply. This was the final straw for her open sweater and sports bra, which flew off of her at only slightly sub-sonic speeds. Her pants split down the sides and floated to the ground in shreds. She was now naked save a badly stretched pair of skimpy panties. Her breasts had expanded to beachball proportions, and then further. Her legs were being pushed slowly apart as her thighs expanded ever further. Her arms were as big around as her breasts had been before she split her bra. The restraints groaned under the pressure as she bulged around them at the ankles and wrists, then gave way. She shot for the ceiling partly because of the effect of lighter than air gas, but also from the size of her swollen ass pushing against the table like a coiled spring. By now her screams had finally brought help, as the double doors came down after a series of blows. Several college student stared busily in amazement at the expanding woman before them (too busy to notice me making a run for it). I took the opportunity to skee-daddle out the back entrance.

"What the hell..." I heard behind me as I made it through the door.

I never returned to that place. I go by a different name now, live in a different place, and have a different job. If you are wondering what happened to ****, I was watching the news about a week after the incident. There had been talk about a chemical accident on the campus all week, but nothing had been released officially until today.

"In a freak laboratory accident," I had blanked at that. Accident? It had been anything but. How did they not know that? "**** ******** was expanded to an incredible size at her campus. She survived the experience, but will remain partially inflated for the rest of her life. Local chemists managed to stop the reaction quickly, and were even able to relieve much of the pressure." The camera switched to a picture of ****, who was positively beaming. She wore an extremely large shirt that contained two enormous volleyball sized breasts. It seemed as if **** was enjoying all of the attention, and for some reason hadn't even bothered to turn me in. "**** has said several times after the incident that no one else was involved in the experiment. Several breast implant companies have made inquiries about the chemical mixture that used, and **** is putting the only remaining syringe up for bid on eBay..." I laughed. **** was smarter than I had thought. She was keeping my name out of the experiment so that she could keep all of the money that the promising chemical would most definitely bring in.

"Keep it," I mumbled to myself. I would have given all of the money just to see and experience what I had. Besides, the reporter had been incorrect in one respect. **** did not have the last remaining syringe. I patted the small bulge in my jacket pocket as an attractive blonde walked by, but didn't remove the small syringe within. Maybe later.