CHAPTER 1
That’s what she was telling herself as she sat in her cozy apartment. The flashes of reds, golds, greens, and blues danced across her face and the walls of her apartment as she watched the fireworks explode above her home. She could hear the shouts, screams of joy, and music blasting from every corner of the neighborhood as friends and family welcomed in the new year.
She sipped her wine, curled up in her extra-large fleece blanket, listening to the sitcom re-run on her tv, filling her home with jokes and laughs. It was exactly the night Riley had wanted - chill, relaxed, laid back, all the terms that made her feel safe.
Safe.
A way of life Riley was all too familiar with, ever since she was a child. Her mind flashed back to Elementary School when her friends signed up for the club soccer team. They were the most excited Riley had ever seen them, even more ecstatic than when the latest Boy Band single was released. They were planning out their hair tie coordination, where they were going to practice after school, and what kind of gear bags they wanted, but Riley just froze. She had seen a horrific injury when her parents were watching the World Cup, where a poor player twisted his ankle beyond what must have been considered a ‘sprain,’ and his career was finished.
Riley’s heart raced as her friends finally turned to her to ask her to join them, but Riley froze. “I can’t,” she lied, “I really, really want to, guys, but my parents said I need to get my grades up.”
Riley was a straight-A student, but not a very good liar. The look of disappointment on her friend’s faces hurt her, but when her best friend Amanda broke her elbow in the first game, Riley felt reassured.
Sure, a part of her yearned to be with her friends out there having fun. Laughing, cheering, running, celebrating together - but the opportunity to be as hurt as Amanda or that soccer player from TV? It was better to stand aside.
Just like when her friends wanted to get tattoos together when they were 18, or when they went to their first sorority party in college, or whenever they wanted to travel abroad in their 20’s - Riley played it safe. She finished High School, College, and settled into a safe office job in a safe neighborhood.
She would tell herself that this is what she wanted, but deep down, beneath all that fear - she wanted more.
Riley opened her journal - one that was fairly intact since the day she had purchased it - and opened to a clean page. She grabbed a fresh pen and jotted down the title of the page that would change her life forever.
New Year, New Riley
Beneath it, she jotted down dozens of bullet points, but no goals to go along with them. She looked back out at her neighborhood, hearing all of the merriment that, really, she wished to be a part of.
Pick up a new hobby
Images danced in Riley’s mind of discarded new hobbies - all false starts, stashed away in bins under her king-sized, overly stuffed-animal’d bed.
Knitting, crochet, origami, scrapbooking, guitar, ukulele, LEGO, new languages, rollerblading, juggling, close-up magic - some more embarrassing than others. She still wasn’t quite sure of the difference between knitting and crochet, but she shook that thought aside. She was going to find the ‘something’ just for her - something that brings her joy - and commit.
Call your friends
It was easy for Riley to just say they had moved on without her, but she knew that wasn’t true. They were social and always tried to include her in their entire lives. She’d started retreating into herself, and her friends started reaching out less and less frequently. That said, they still reach out, and Riley would psych herself out of responding. No more, she was going to put on her big girl pants and text them back!
Go out more!
On cue, another flash of purple filled her apartment from a Roman candle. Two grown men were aiming them at each other, trying to dodge the flashes of bright colors firing out of the other’s fireworks. Riley giggled to herself. “They look like they’re having fun…” she thought.
Thoughts of 3rd degree burns, hospital visits, bandages, and all other manner of injuries these men could sustain flooded her mind. Her heart rate increased, but she breathed. Therapy and meditation had given her the tools to handle these anxiety spikes, but now she actually had to use them.
She breathed, focused on her happy place, and closed her eyes. The fears melted away, replaced by the calmest image she could imagine. Her eyes opened, and she was centered.
She wrote down all the places she could think of that she wanted to visit - arcades, movie theaters, museums, science centers, pubs, dive bars, coffee shops, thrift stores. She had a long list in the notes app on her phone, all of them unvisited. That changed, starting tomorrow.
Travel
Outside of her hometown and college town, she’d only lived in three places. That also was the same list of places she’d visited, as her family weren’t the biggest fans of “vacationing.”
Paris, Madrid, Cairo, Dubai, Tokyo, London, Sydney - all places she would view through the safety of her computer. This year, even if it were still in the States, she would go. Maybe a week? Maybe a weekend? Maybe a month?!
The only rules - she had to take a plane, and she had to stay more than a day. Beyond that, she would start planning and budgeting.
Make a new friend…
This one stung, but she had to write it. Riley could feel that the pain, or shame of this admission, was acknowledging a deeper truth she had refused to admit. Riley was lonely.
She could call her friends, but she needed a support system where she lived now. It could be a neighbor, her favorite funny barista, or someone at a pilates class. “Could that be my new hobby?” Riley’s thoughts drifted. “Focus, dammit!” She smacked her head with her continued to the second most difficult goal…
Date…
The knife of embarrassment dug deeper into her heart, searing hotter as she thought of every failed attempt at her friends setting her up with someone. Riley's normal response was to say ‘No,’ but in the rare case she said ‘Yes,’ it never worked.
Men were too obsessed with her… body. She didn’t mind being lusted after, but it never felt ‘right.’ She liked the way her body would affect people, but her fear would draw the line at that. No more…
Grow
Grow as a person? You would think so, but not what she meant. Grow a new talent? Weird phrasing, and that would make sense, but wrong again. Grow a… plant? One step at a time here. Riley wanted to work on herself before thinking of taking on the responsibility of another being’s life.
No, she had a deeper, darker secret that she would never tell anyone. Something so devious she only saved for herself, but if she’s going to change herself, why not go all in?
The more she wrote, the more her thoughts flashed back to the first time she started discovering her ‘interests.’ It was around the time she finally hit puberty. Far later than the rest of her friends, just as she hit her 18th birthday, she matured quickly. Her luscious, chocolatey brown hair grew thicker and longer by the day, while her hips grew out and her ass grew thicker.
Jeans and any skinny leggings turned into a second skin on her, and she resorted to gypsy skirts until her growth leveled off. While it took some getting used to, she did enjoy her thicker thighs squeezing togethe,r whether she was sitting or standing. She would giggle at how good her thick ass would look in jeans, or those special leggings she only wore at home when she worked out. Her cheeks would bounce at the smallest movements, and she imagined teasing some suitor by grinding up against him.
That, however, wasn’t the focus of her interests. Within months, she’d shot up from as flat as a board to E-cups, with no slow in sight. Forget about loose-fitting shirts - Riley resorted to the biggest, baggiest sweatshirts to cover her budding bosom, regardless of the weather.
It almost felt like she could feel them growing, centimeter by centimeter, until they finally leveled off at J-cups. She couldn’t believe it - Riley watched her friends mature and gain the attention of boys in school, but now she easily outclassed them in bra size.
Whenever she tried to embrace it, the amount of attention she would get from men and women was too much. She hated it because she loved how they looked. They had the perfect amount of weight, perk, and bounce. They were heavy, and she could feel them past her belly button when they were out of her bra. Her cleavage was never-ending, and she would admit that she would catch herself staring at them in the mirror.
Riley could only admit this to herself - they were fucking fantastic - but she had a dirty little secret.
While she was growing faster than what she assumed any other woman on the planet, she loved it. How tight her tops would get, the stitching busting when she would move too fast in a tiny bra, the stares and gasps when friends noticed she’d grown bigger. God, even thinking of this now, as she wrote out her goals, made her grow wet.
It wasn’t long before she got curious - did other people like the idea of breasts growing quickly? Short answer: yes.
Breast expansion. It was her fetish. Riley consumed every story, erotic or otherwise, every comic, every animation, every photo morph - she couldn’t get enough. It was a near-nightly ritual to find a new erotic tale to tease herself to.
In the past few years, this fetish began to evolve. It wasn’t just something to tease her imagination; it became a goal. An aspiration. Riley started looking into ways women could induce growth, from supplements, massages, medication, to even more wild ideas.
She studied. She catalogued. She had a shopping cart on her browser full of everything she would need to indulge her curiosity, but there was one problem: fear. What if something went wrong? What if one tit grew while the other didn’t? What if there was another medical horror show that she couldn’t even imagine?
These held some weight in her mind, but it really came down to one fear: she was worried it wouldn’t work.
No. more.
Riley set her notebook aside, tracing her finger on the ornate floral design on the cover. This was going to be her companion from this day on. She slipped her laptop out from a drawer on her desk and opened the web browser to supplement shop with everything she needed.
With a deep breath, a bit of centering, and a cocky grin - she clicked purchase.
Riley tossed her computer aside with a giddy giggle. “I did it,” she whispered to herself. “What the hell, girl?! You did it!” She cheered to the ceiling as her busty form was illuminated by the last remaining fireworks. Her J-cups bounced under her oversized sleep shirt, while images of her tits outgrowing this XXXL shirt sent a surge of pleasure to her pussy.
Riley, for the first time in god knows how long, was excited. She was happy.
“Wait…” she stopped herself, and then ran for her phone. With a few clicks on her web browser, she found the number she wanted to call. “Why not ride this high?” She asked herself as she clicked ‘Call.’
It reached voicemail. “Of course,” Riley hit her head with her hand. “It’s New Year's Day,” she peered out to the black of night outside, “and just barely.” The recording beeped in her ear, and she left the message she’d been wanting to leave for years.
She hung up the phone as she finished her message to her doctor and downed the rest of her red wine. She was on cloud nine, and she just knew that this was going to be ‘her year.’ Riley tidied up her room, washed up, and headed to bed shortly after.
She felt just like a kid on Christmas Eve, as if her dreams of a bigger bust would be granted in the morning. She did her breathing, feeling her heart rate slow as her eyelids grew heavy. Her last thoughts before drifting off were of the message she just left for her doctor. There was one particular medication she’d been putting off getting that could specifically help with her big goal, as well as her dating life.
She was wondering just how long it would take for her boobs to grow once she started on her new birth control, as she finally fell asleep. If only she knew what she was in for…
TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR ANOTHER INSTALLMENT! Will Riley grow? How big? Write your theories and suggestions below.