Inspired by paperbag’s forum post and Downing Street’s New Girl

“Who’s the girl in the pants?” Sonja asked, sipping on her coffee.

“Oh, that’s the new head of department. She started yesterday while you were away. Annette, I think her name is.”

Sonja glanced over at the new boss. She was a young black woman with short, well-maintained hair. Dressed in a trim grey suit with a white button-up shirt underneath, she had a stern look on her face. She hadn’t even noticed Sonja, but somehow the young professional felt like she had already been disapproved of.

“She’s dressed pretty straight.”

“Yeah. The job you want, all that jazz. Still - I wish I had her tits.”

Sonja threw her friend a glance. Ruby had a few problems in her life - she looked far more tired than usual, for one - but a lack of boobage certainly wasn’t an issue for her.

“What are you talking about? She looks completely flat-chested.”

“Yeah,” Ruby sighed, glancing down at her prominent cleavage. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Wrinkling her nose in confusion, Sonja looked down at her own chest. She wasn’t quite as big as Ruby, but she knew that she came pretty close. As a young girl, she’d looked at her mother’s bosom and prayed for her own one day.

Her wish had been granted. In spades. And - potential back problems aside - she liked having big tits. Always had. It made her feel sexy, womanly.

The fact that no guy had ever overlooked her was a bonus.

Sonja had always thought that Ruby felt the same way. Like her, Ruby had never been afraid to show some cleavage (while still dressing professionally, of course), and Sonja knew for a fact that she’d seen her workmate use them to her advantage in the past.

Flirting with a boss was one way to help close the wage gap.

Their friend Harriet approached, and saw them looking at the new girl.

“Checking out our new overlord, hey?” she said with a laugh, and Sonja buried a smile. “Those tits, hey?”

Now Sonja was really confused. Harriet looked completely serious. Unless this was some kind of elaborate in-joke that she wasn’t a part of, she had no idea what her workmates were talking about. Harriet and Ruby were two of the bustiest women in the office - they, more than anyone, knew the advantages of having a lot to offer in the chest department.

So why were they practically drooling over Annette’s total lack of titties?

“I don’t see it,” Sonja said, after the silence had stretched on for a few minutes.

Harriet sighed.

“Small tits can have their advantages is all,” she said softly. “Annette was telling us about it the other day.”

“You were talking to our new boss ... about tits?”

“With a rack like that, how can you not?”

Now convinced that her workmates had gone mad, Sonja changed the subject, and the three happily talked about football until Annette glanced their way, and they realized that they should at least look like they were doing work.

“So,” Annette concluded with a smile that looked genuinely friendly, “as you can see, I’m not looking to change things, or to be the big new scary boss. I just want things to keep on working like they always have.”

“Great,” Sonja said with a laugh. “That gets an a-plus from me!”

As soon as the words had come out of her mouth, Sonja’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but glance down at her boss’s almost totally flat chest.

A. A. Why did she have to say A?

“Great,” Annette repeated back, and Sonja noticed her throw her shoulders back slightly. It was a move that most people wouldn’t notice, but Sonja was a woman of great bosom, and so she knew the maneuver well.

Annette was showing off.

But why? She had nothing to show off. It made no sense.

Before Sonja could stop herself, the words were tumbling out of her mouth.

“Do you find it’s a problem?”

“What?” Annette said, and her smile had somehow, slyly shifted.

“Not having ... y’know.”

To Sonja’s mortification, she found herself gesturing at her new boss’s chest. She wished that could pull off her bra and choke herself with it. What the hell was she doing?

“Oh, quite the contrary,” Annette said, without a trace of awkwardness in her tone. “It’s always been very useful.”

“Useful?”

“Oh, yes. Not being slowed down by...”

Now it was Annette’s turn to gesture at the other woman’s bosoms.

“Yes, I imagine that huge tits like that would slow one down. Don’t you find it exhausting, dragging their weight with you anywhere? I know that some people like the look of them, but it’s not for me. No offense.”

“None taken,” Sonja mumbled, her brain spinning at her new boss’s words.

“Was there anything else?”

“Thank you,” Sonja said, getting up from her seat. Now that her attention had been drawn to it, she couldn’t help but be aware of the extra effort that it took to lift her torso. She was wearing a sports-bra, as she almost always did to work - Sonja was an E-cup, and though she’d never weighed them, she guessed that her breasts probably weighed around three pounds.

Each.

That was a lot of extra lifting.

The next day at work, Sonja noticed herself yawning a lot more than usual. It didn’t make sense - she’d practically fallen into bed last night, totally drained, and gotten a full ten hours of sleep.

But for some reason, she was far more tired than usual. She tried to shake it off, but the movement made her breasts shift from side to side, and she couldn’t help but notice how much effort her body had to put into stopping their movement.

“You doing okay?” Harriet asked, stopping by her cubicle. Sonja noticed that her friend’s hair and makeup was a mess - strange, considering how well-maintained the older woman normally was.

“I’m fine,” Sonja started to say, but before she could even get through the second word, a yawn overtook her - one that Harriet immediately echoed.

“Sorry,” the two said simultaneously, and smiled at each other. Sonja would have laughed at the odd moment, but just the idea of it seemed too draining.

Across the room, they heard Annette enthusiastically giving Ruby a pep talk. As they watched, Annette’s hand brushed against her underling’s breast. Ruby didn’t seem to notice.

“I wish I had her energy,” Harriet mumbled, and Sonja just smiled in response. Putting a sentence together was suddenly a lot of work. The two stood there in silence, watching Sonja’s screensaver, until Harriet eventually dragged herself back to her own desk.

Sonja watched as she did. Every step looked like a lot of effort.

“Burning the midnight oil?” Annette joked, stopping by Sonja’s cubicle on the way out. It was already 6:30pm, but Sonja felt like she still had so much work to do. She’d barely managed to get anything done all day - she’d had three meetings (three!) and just getting to-and-from the meeting rooms had sapped most of her energy.

If she was being honest with herself, she still wasn’t accomplishing much. Sitting at her computer and clicking at folders wasn’t really getting her anywhere ... but the prospect of walking home was just so exhausting.

“You live a few blocks over, don’t you?” Annette asked, and Sonja realized that she’d never answered her boss’s previous question.

“That’s right,” Sonja said, managing to muster up the energy for a response.

“I’m driving past there - let me give you a lift.”

Sonja’s eyes lit up at the prospect. It didn’t make sense - she was in fairly good shape, and she was only twenty-one. She’d walked to work every day for almost a year now ... but after arriving that morning, it had taken her twenty minutes before she even felt able to turn on her computer.

“Thanks,” she said, and Annette laughed.

“Don’t mention it. I’m not a slave-driver. Not yet, anyway.”

Annette winked, and while Sonja would have loved to have laughed at her boss’s weird joke, she only managed to smile in response.

Ten minutes later, they were seated next to each other in the car, Annette talking at a million miles a minute.

Sonja glanced enviously at her boss’s chest. No wonder she was able to get so much done, able to get promoted in such a short amount of time. When that was all you were carrying around... - Her train of thought was broken when she realized that her boss was waiting for an answer, and all she was doing was staring at the black girl’s tits through her shirt.

“Hmm?” she said, and Annette repeated herself, sounding slightly peeved that she had to do so.

“I said, it must take time to work out what to wear each day.”

“What do you mean?” Sonja said, wondering how much she’d missed.

“Well,” Annette said casually. “I mean, when you have these...”

Her hand reached out and brushed against Sonja’s breasts as she spoke.

“You must spend most of your morning building your wardrobe around them. After all, it’s not like you can just do what I do and pick anything.

“Hell,” she said with a laugh, “I’m surprised you have time to take care of the rest of your appearance!”

Sonja just smiled. Despite being driven, she was still wiped from the day of lugging around her huge chest - she didn’t have time to contemplate her boss’s odd theories on personal maintenance.

“This is me,” she said, desperate to avoid being dropped off at the end of the street. “Just pull right into the driveway. Thanks.”

“Not at all,” Annette said, beaming back at her subordinate. “Any time!”

Sonja really hoped she meant that, because if she did ... she was definitely going to hold her to it.

“My name’s Donna,” the stranger (Donna, presumably) announced. “I was told to report to this section?”

“I’m Sonja,” the frazzled-looking young woman said in response.

That morning, while getting dressed, she’d found herself unable to stop thinking about her new boss’s words. She did have to build her wardrobe around her enormous bust - after all, if she just took it for granted, she could end up wearing something that showed too much cleavage, or not enough.

By the time she’d finally settled on a top, Sonja had realized that it was time to leave. If she was going to avoid being late, she’d have to run - her enormous tits would bounce up and down with every step, and by the time she arrived at work she’d be even more fatigued than she had been the day before.

The young professional had thrown on whatever she could to get in on time. She hadn’t had a chance to do her hair and makeup, and she’d only realized when she sat down that her socks didn’t match, and she was wearing them with sandals.

Oh well. That was just a part of life as a busty woman.

Donna was holding her possessions patiently, waiting for a response. As Sonja built up the energy to direct her, she noticed that Donna’s tits were almost as large as her own. Somehow, she still seemed to have the time to do her hair and makeup of a morning.

Lucky woman. Or maybe her bra was just padded?

Very, very padded.

“You should probably go talk to Annette,” Sonja said, gesturing at the immaculately-presented woman on the other side of the room. She was pointing at Harriet’s computer screen, but Harriet looked totally baffled by what she was being told.

“I wish her had her tits,” she was unable to stop herself from adding, as Donna began marching towards her new boss.

“Really?” Donna said, her eyes flicking down to Sonja’s chest. Before the young woman could explain, Donna had resumed her journey, and so instead she just stood and watched as Annette gave up on trying to explain the spreadsheet to Harriet, and gave the new transfer a friendly hug.

Sonja sat down, and ran a hand through her hair. That had been exhausting.

“And I suppose the other advantage,” Annette said, her hands firmly on the wheel, “is the increased mental capacity.”

Sonja wrinkled her nose.

“Advantage of what?”

Annette smiled softly at her employee, and Sonja couldn’t help but feel she was being patronized to.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” she said simply, and Sonja took a moment to run through the conversation so far. She’d been paying quite close attention, but the change of topic had been a total non-sequitur.

“Umm...”

Annette sighed, and a hard edge came into her voice.

“As I was saying, the science is pretty sound on this. Big tits like yours...” she said, reaching out and giving Sonja’s left breast a gentle squeeze “ ... require more blood than nice petite breasts like mine.”

“I don’t know...”

“And so,” the black woman continued, ignoring the interruption, “that blood has to come from somewhere. So the studies that I was talking about showed that it comes from the brain. That’s why you have so much trouble focusing, remembering things, or even understanding basic concepts. Don’t make me repeat that again - I know how quickly you busty gals forget things!”

Sonja paused. Something about this definitely didn’t seem right.

“Wouldn’t the body just have, like, more blood?” she asked, and Annette quietly laughed in response.

“Sure thing, honey,” she said, and stopped the car.

Sonja stared at her expectantly.

“This is your house,” Annette prompted, and Sonja looked at the building they were parked outside.

“Is it?” she asked, and then after almost a minute had passed, added, “It is!”

“My name’s Rita,” the busty woman said, and Sonja looked up in panic, relieved to learn that she wasn’t talking to her. She was speaking to Donna, the woman that Sonja had met yesterday.

Sonja was so proud that she could remember all of that. She’d been at work for almost an hour, trying to log into her computer. She knew that her password had ... numbers. Or was it letters? Maybe both.

No luck so far, but she knew that she’d get there before the day was over.

Or maybe tomorrow.

“New to the department?” Donna asked. While Sonja considered her answer to that question, Rita replied.

“That’s right.”

“Me too,” Donna said with a sigh. “I don’t know why they’re moving so many of us over here - I heard there’s four more due in the next week alone.”

Sonja thought she knew why. She, Harriet, and Ruby hadn’t managed to get any work done all day. Sonja couldn’t log into her computer (she knew that her password had letters. Or numbers. Or maybe both.) and when she’d last seen the other two, they’d been gossiping in the kitchen, sipping on that white liquid.

The cow one. Cow juice. What was it called?

“And have you noticed,” Donna said, looking around conspiratorially, “they’re only moving women?”

The new transfer - Anita? Peta? - looked at Donna oddly, noticing the rings under her eyes and that she seemed to be swaying, worn out from the strain of standing and talking.

“You want to talk to Annette,” Donna said, and worked up the energy to gesture towards the black woman filling her bottle up at the water filter. “The one over there with the great tits.”

Rita laughed in response, but when Donna gave her a puzzled look, thanked her quietly and started moving towards her new boss.

“Milk!” Sonja said triumphantly, and carefully typed the word into her computer.

INCORRECT PASSWORD, the screen said, and Sonja frowned in confusion. She was sure she’d been trying to remember her password. Wasn’t it cow juice? She knew it had letters in it, anyway.

Or numbers. Maybe both?

“You looked drained,” Annette said as she stopped by Sonja’s desk.

Sonja was. She’d spent the entire day working hard on the password situation, and now she was exhausted. She’d used all of her mental strength trying to work out what it could be (among her guesses had been “password”, “sonja”, “tits”, and “password”) to no avail. Combined with the sheer effort of carrying two massive sacks on her chest, and the emotional strain of knowing that her hair was knotted and she only had one sock on, and she was absolutely spent.

“Are you keeping your fluids up?” Annette asked, concerned.

“What do you mean?”

Sonja hadn’t realized that her job involved holding up liquids.

“You’re what, a double-D? Sonja, you know what that means - you need milk, baby. If you don’t drink at least four or five pints of milk each day, your boobs are going to shrivel up.”

Sonja’s eyes widened in shock. That didn’t sound good!

“It’s okay honey,” Annette said soothingly, and her hand reached down to stroke the side of Sonja’s teat as she continued. “The company is here to look after you - that’s why we’ve stocked the fridge with as much milk as you like. I’m going to drive you home now, but tomorrow why don’t you come early and drink as much milk as those big awful boobs of yours need, okay?”

Sonja nodded gratefully. She was so glad that she had someone with small, sensible breasts to take care of her.

She shot a glance at Annette’s tiny tits. God, she would kill for boobs like that. So light, so easy to maintain, not taking any of your brain-blood to operate. So easy to dress in the morning.

No wonder Annette was so wonderful. Sonja shot a dirty look at her own boobs.

Why did they have to be so big?

Sonja was an hour late to work the next day. She’d been walking towards work when fatigue had suddenly hit her, and she’d realized that she had to get some milk. There was milk at work, but work was so far away. She’d started marching towards the nearest store when she’d suddenly realized that it was even further than work, and so she’d turned around again.

Her mind was so addled and milk-deprived, Sonja had almost been at work when the thought struck her: what if she’d walked so far towards the store that it was even closer than her work? Stepping back out of the lobby, she headed off towards the store once more, before realizing how stupid she was being.

This repeated itself several times before she finally staggered into work, her back sore from holding her enormous tits up, her head spinning and her hair plastered to her head with sweat.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d washed her hair. Had she ever washed her hair? It was hard to remember. She needed milk.

Fortunately, Annette was waiting for her at her cubicle. She had a warm smile, and a glass of milk in her hand - Sonja ignored the smile, and dove straight for the milk.

Gulping it down, she looked down at her desk. Donna was sitting there. Her hair was a mess, and it looked like she was wearing mismatched running shoes over stockings.

Her magnificent bust, however, was very well-displayed in a black v-neck top.