I had a strange flowery-sweet taste in my mouth, and the panic you would expect me to feel was strangely absent; I felt utterly confused but somehow serene. My breasts sat on my belly, gigantic, impossible, the size of beach balls, huge nipples at the ends. The first woman took a bite of her food, lifting her bagel the considerable distance over her chest to her mouth, elbows resting on her sides. I was accustomed to being able to walk down the street without attracting any attention to myself, and all the staring was starting to make me feel nervous. I leaned forward and felt down the backs of my legs and was distracted as my breasts, larger and heavier than before, bounced on my stomach.
Cheyenne. Age: 25.
I started thrashing furiously from side to side and managed to get a hand on the floor, swinging my body over, but before I could try to stand the momentum of my massive body followed through, and I rolled completely over on my back again in the middle of the floor.
Miranda. Age: 21.
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I started to run to the phone in my bedroom but made it just inside the door before being overwhelmed. I looked back in the mirror, still awe struck. Jiggling everywhere, I started sobbing again, but plaintively this time, like a hurt child. My knees were thick with fat, and below them my calves were as big around as basketballs.