She was still beautiful, she knew. Violet had a sleek, tall figure; expansive, voluptuous hips capped by her firmly muscled ass. The hairdryer evaporated the water from dark bronze hair, freshly washed and styled.
"... And in other news, Customers at a McDonalds in Tallahassee were treated to a visual as well as culinary feast today." intoned the smoothly professional voice of the radio info-babe. "One of the cashiers had imbibed an unregulated breast growth potion, without understanding the parameters of the spell." A sad sigh escaped Violet's pert lips. She combed her hair and prepared her usual regimen of softeners and conditioners that were standard after she showered. The info-babe continued:
"Eyewitnesses remarked that her breasts expanded until they were 'bigger than Beach-balls' as one witness remarked. Paramedics had to struggle a bit fitting her through the door. She said that she did it because she had a crush on her manager, and wanted him to notice her. Which he most certainly did." Stories like that were not too unusual these days.
Violet took a deep breath, and thought positive; she was still a babe! And she knew it! Her skin, moist from her shower, was healthily tanned from her active lifestyle. She had a good body; her figure had always made other girls seeth with envy. She possessed high-cheek bones that shaped a face just exotic enough to be alluringly erotic, yet not so unusual as to be intimidating. Violet always thought of herself as a classical, elegant beauty.
Her deep, purple eyes gazed at her seductive reflection in the dorm room mirror. She couldn't account for them; her eyes for some reason had changed color after her 'accident'. If only she had been satisfied with what nature had given her during those turbulent, high school years.
"No Violet, you've got to think positive!" she reprimanded herself. "I am not a victim! I am in control of my life!" She practically shouted in the mirror, it was a good motivational tactic, according to the self-help books she was always reading. But it was almost time for class; so Violet turned to get dressed in something more substantial than a white towel.
"I... will take... charge!" grunted violet as she took those first steps. Damn! She forgot to close her window! Here at Madison University, most of the dorms were in close-together tower buildings; anyone from across the way had a good chance of seeing into her room! Had anyone done so, their jaw would have dropped to the floor. That girl from McDonalds wasn't alone; there were a growing number of women suffering similar magical mishaps. Ever since the Celestial Conjunction in the earlier 21st century that made magic on Earth possible again, many women saw magic as a short-cut to get the figures nature denied them. And violet was no exception.
Calling her boobs gargantuan was a gross understatement; If Violet's tits had been watermelons, the farmer that raised them would have won the County Fair Blue Ribbon. She was burdened with swaying mammaries beyond all reason or sanity. They warned her, though. The doctors said that magic was strong in her family, (they think they've found a 'magic' gene) and that she should be careful casting spells on herself. But she didn't listen, of course.
It was the same old, same old, type of story that had been going on for years. Girl likes Boy, Boy likes Girl, Boy meets second girl with magically-enhanced tits, Girl looses Boy, Girl gets insanely jealous, Girl steals illegal breast-growth potion, Girl ends up with Beachball boobs.
For years, the FDA had been warning the public about the dangers of cosmetic magic; if you combine two spells at the same time, the result is synergy; magic goes wild and becomes uncontrollable! Violet had forgotten about the spell she had used the same day to tint her hair, and the rest is history. But she'd been lucky; she had gone to the best cosmetic magicians her family could afford, and they were able to help her considerably, but not enough. She tried surgery, herbs, even more magic, but there was nothing more to be done; Using magic to reverse magic many times made the situation worse! And since her breast-growth was magical, surgery wouldn't help; her tits would simply regenerate.Violet would be stuck with colossal boobs somewhat larger than most beachballs for the forseeable future. (maybe her entire life?!)
Luckily, suitable customized bras were easier to find these days; but Violet hated the monstrosity that she had to wear. She had always been pleasantly surprised at the natural buoyancy of the jiggling mountains sprouting from her chest; they sagged far less than what one would suspect, but nonetheless, support was necessary. Without the industrial-strength seat-belt strap bra, the bouncy inertia of her Girls would cause them to sway and leap uncontrollably from their own busty weight, shattering and clobbering adjacent objects. Furthermore, the bra had a set of counter-weights that balanced out her top-heavy torso. Victoria's Secret thought of everything.
Now, after months of therapy, magical and physical,Violet could walk, even jog! Most women in her position would retire from public life, they would cloister themselves away from the giggling mobs and rarely appear outside; finding careers they could do from indoors, or just becoming homemakers. But even that was surprisingly difficult; Violet found that many men were reluctant to approach her! They just weren't sure how to talk to a woman with breasts large enough for a midget to sleep in with room to spare. Most women thought that a man who would date a girl with 'T.V. tits' was some sick, breast-freak that was only interested in women's bodies. What mature man would even think of dating a woman who's boobs could smother a polar bear? They stared. And stared. And stared. But Violet rejected those few that were desperate enough to fumble out the beginnings of a come-on line.
There! Her monster tits were almost strapped in-
*KLUNK* Whoops, there goes her alarm-clock radio; a wall of renegade titflesh had jiggled wildly, insanely wobbling as she struggled to contain her fleshy femininity, knocking her radio to the floor. Violet was a hazard around delicate objects, her Girls almost never stopped jiggling! But none of that mattered. It didn't matter if the boys thought she was some kind of sex-monster. Let them ogle her in lustful shock. So what if the girls giggled both behind and in front of her. She didn't care anymore.
"I... am not... *GRUNT*... A victim!" she proclaimed as she struggled with her tank-top. She was through hiding in abject shame from her out-sized bosoms. No more shrinking Violet! She was smart enough, healthy enough, and determined enough to suceed! Nothing would get in her way! Neither glass-ceilings nor forty-pound breasts would slow her down! She had gotten her G.E.D. (she dropped out in shame after her potion accident), and enrolled in Madison University with a Pre-med Major. She had spent months exercising her legs and back, trying to get a job to 'support' herself. (no pun intended) She was ready, and no spell would stop her!
Maybe it was her imagination, but it appeared to Violet that she was once again the strangest thing on campus; which did surprise her. Ever since the Celestial Conjunction that made magic possible; the legendary Fairy races from ancient times had returned to the Earth, seeking refuge, U.S. citizenship, and men to revitalize their weakening bloodlines. Pixies, Nymphs of all sorts, made their way to classes. Humans and Fairy creatures of all descriptions walked and flitted freely across campus.
You could tell the Fae folk when you saw them; even those that had the same anatomy as humans. They were overwhelmingly female; (the lack of men was one of the main reasons why they sought refuge on Earth) Even those that did not have wings or pointed ears were clearly inhuman. Most of them were female, but Violet didn't really think of them as women. They were too perfect; their legs were too long and svelte, their asses were too gorgeous; always that perfect heart-shape. Of course, all of them had flawless skin, and their hair never seemed to get frazzled. They were hyper-sexed charicatures of woman-hood, their impossibly willowy waist-lines and pneumatic boobs ensured that they were rarely mistaken for real women. To Violet, they seemed more like cartoons than people. It was as if some horny teenage boy, drowing in his own repressed hormones, had been given license to design a race of people.
Yet, they stared at her! Maybe it made sense; she seemed to be human, yet her tits were even larger than the bustiest of the Fae! (They had an easier time correcting back-firing spells) Conversations stopped, men on bicycles slammed painfully into walls, and necks were stretched like rubber. Let them look! So what! Violet was through being ashamed. The Fae were the real freaks, not her.
Of course, she had to admit she was jealous. Any woman that denied being jealous of the Fae was a liar. Back in high-school, Violet had been the numero-uno babe; the one who could get any boy she wanted, and she relished it. But of course, paradise was shattered when that slutty, elven cheerleader transferred to her district and set her sights on Violet's boyfriend. Just one glance from those deep, soulful, golden eyes; just one buoyant jiggle from her creamy, G-cup tits, and Violet's trophy boyfriend was stolen. How could any red-blooded male resist? And for that matter, how did that slut manage to do so much leaping with boobs that big? Well, ancient history now.
.... There is more of this story ...