"Did you sleep well, dear?"
Lisa was having breakfast in the absolute silence of the deserted house. She had woken up late and, hungry as a wolf but seeing no one around, located the kitchen on her own and was at the counter gorging herself with the last remains of her usual large breakfast. Upon hearing the voice she turned, and there was Milena, leaning against the doorjamb with her arms folded. She wore only a black taffeta gown, tied at the waist, and the see-through material put an end to any of Lisa's doubts from the day before. That bosom was real, and, as far as she could see, natural. The avalanche of titflesh started to swell out just below her collarbones, spread completely across her entire chest, then sagged down her ribcage. The glands were so full and round, and at the equator of their globular bulk they were so wide, that each pushed the other out to the side. There wasn't enough room on the front of Milena's ribcage for her breasts – they had to curve out past her sides, their bulging abundance overlapping her arms. Lisa's experienced eye noted the way the experimental woman's dark nipples now pointed left and right, not ahead, forced off-center by the lack of room for those expanded breasts. Not a badly-built girl, Milena, indeed - she had rather generous hips, contrasted with an unusually thin waist; her thighs were full and shapely, and she had slender ankles.
"Terribly, thanks," Lisa said. "And you?"
"Marvelously, really, like a child. It must be a side effect of Dr. Bohm's treatment ..." she said, with a wry smile on her lips.
The treatment sure did wonders for your self-esteem, Lisa thought to herself. When I saw you in that dreary apartment, you were ready for the retirement home, and now you think you've become a movie star ...
"Well, you seem to be in much better shape than when we first met. You must be working out pretty seriously ... "
"Not as much as I would like," said Milena, sighing. "Unfortunately, being subjected to all these experiments in the laboratory takes almost all my time, day and … night. "
"Ah, I see. And may I know who your trainer is in ... gymnastics?"
“I don’t have any special guy, just whoever happens to be at the spa; the important thing is, after all ... the result. " Milena stepped away from the door and brought her hands up to cradle her fat, heavy breasts, then walked slowly and carefully into the kitchen; even so, her bosom overflowed her hands and wobbled and shook to each small stride.
Lisa, who until then had not looked up from her bread and butter, glanced at Milena and caught her amused smile. That's just about enough, the Danish girl thought - time to re-establish hierarchies.
She stood up slowly and got her balance as the weighty glands lifted from the table, and approached Milena, returning the false smile. Then, when they were face to face, Lisa raised her head, like she was staring at the ceiling, and with one jerk of her neck she banged her forehead down on Milena's nose. Milena ended up lying on the ground, a trickle of blood streaking her cheek, and Lisa astride her, knees pinning Milena's arms to the ground. Lisa was panting from the exertion, big pendulous breasts quaking with excitement. Then, grabbing Milena's neck with one hand, she said contemptuously: "Listen honey, up until a month ago you were a whore in retirement, and if you don't resume showing me the respect I'm owed, I’m going to kick your fat ass back to that miserable life. Is that clear?"
Milena, locked underneath, looked terrified, unable to utter a word. She managed to just barely nod, as if to say yes.
"I didn't hear you." Lisa moved her pelvis forward, to sit with her buttocks on Milena's face.
She heard a stifled groan between her legs. Satisfied, she rose and went upstairs to her bedroom.
Gunther returned in the afternoon; he had gone to Berlin to take care of some work. He found Lisa lying on the couch, TV on, the remote in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. She seemed completely at home, as if she had lived there forever.
"Hello, Lisa. So, how was your day? "
"It started badly, but it's definitely improving," she said.
"I'm pleased. If you have a moment, I would like to show you something."
"What?"
"Put your clothes on; we’ll take a walk in the garden."
She was still in her pajamas and robe; other than the exchange of views that morning with Milena, she had not seen anyone in the house.
"Surprise?"
"Surprise."
She went upstairs and came down quickly, wearing a pair of jeans, boots, and a skimpy black shirt. They left.
What Gunther called the “garden” was actually a park of several acres surrounding the villa; the gentle slope of the hill on which the building stood, was hidden by the foliage of mighty oaks. In the distance she could see the reflection of Lake Zern. It was a beautiful day, with the late-afternoon light hitting everything, defining colors, making it more brilliant and lively.
Lisa and Gunther walked across a field. "This property has been in my family for centuries. Before the Second World War, our possessions extended almost to the shores of the lake. Then Communism came, and changed everything. I was born and I lived here until 1957, then we had to move to Potsdam. I always thought, even after fleeing to the West, that one day I would come back."
They had reached the edge of a clearing, and before them stood a building, smaller than the main villa and modest, but similar in style.
"This is the hunting lodge, and behind it are the old stables."
The man opened the door and entered. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and cozy, low ceilings, paintings and trophies on the walls.
Lisa looked around. "What, you've bought me a little house all for myself, to keep me away from your guests?" she joked.
"No, indeed ... Come this way."
He opened the door leading to the stable. Inside, everything was redecorated in an extremely functional style. The walls and ceiling beams were painted white, there were shiny polished floors, slate gray, and worktables and bookcases.
"Our new offices," Gunther said proudly.
"What?" said Lisa, trying to understand.
"I thought we'd open a branch office so we can work here in Germany. Obviously everything is wired in with our operations on Ibiza and in Munich ..."
Lisa looked at him curiously. He sat at a desk and invited Lisa to do the same. Now she stared at him, as if waiting for further explanation. Then Gunther continued.
"I've got a contract, already signed, for the sale of our six major websites to the Score Group. Tomorrow, if you agree, we’ll go to Los Angeles to sign the contract, then Bermuda for a couple of weeks, and then home again. What do you think?"
"I think you're crazy! We're making a lot of money with the websites ... hits and subscriptions are increasing dramatically, and ...” When Gunther held the contract up in front of her and Lisa read the numbers in boldface, she was suddenly struck speechless. The amount was simply overwhelming. She found her voice, her tone completely changed.
"Maybe we should go talk to these gentlemen."
"I agree. There is another thing to consider, Lisa."
"What's that?"
"You'll notice that the experiments we're conducting, are producing excellent results. What we are doing here, with Professor Bohm, is really unbelievable. In a few months we’ll be back on the Internet with a new site that will overshadow anything that's been done before ... a site completely different from all the others - models with breasts so large that all our competitors' girls will be a joke, breasts spraying milk all the time, sado-masochistic situations. People will go literally mad for this."
"Listen, Gunther, I need to tell you about one thing. I had a little discussion with that girl, this morning." She carefully avoided mentioning her name.
"Milena. Yes, I know. She called me today," said the man. "She was in bed. With an ice pack on her nose."
"To avoid any misunderstanding, let me spell things out once and for all. I AM the business. We may be business partners, but I'm the one with the gigantic boobs that made the entire operation possible. These grossly overdeveloped titties pay for everything, including top management. It's my size that made all this possible. I'm the one that has to carry all this tonnage around. So – any website, no other model will have as much visibility as me. And, no argument, I will be the only girl participating in any further experiments in breast development. And I will continue to receive treatment until I decide that I'm big enough."
At that moment, she thought to herself, What would be an appropriate size? 56, 66, 76 inches? “No matter how insanely big I grow. Do you understand?”
Gunther interrupted. "Don’t worry - you are my true, only queen. There will never be anyone like you. I swear."
Lisa was having breakfast in the absolute silence of the deserted house. She had woken up late and, hungry as a wolf but seeing no one around, located the kitchen on her own and was at the counter gorging herself with the last remains of her usual large breakfast. Upon hearing the voice she turned, and there was Milena, leaning against the doorjamb with her arms folded. She wore only a black taffeta gown, tied at the waist, and the see-through material put an end to any of Lisa's doubts from the day before. That bosom was real, and, as far as she could see, natural. The avalanche of titflesh started to swell out just below her collarbones, spread completely across her entire chest, then sagged down her ribcage. The glands were so full and round, and at the equator of their globular bulk they were so wide, that each pushed the other out to the side. There wasn't enough room on the front of Milena's ribcage for her breasts – they had to curve out past her sides, their bulging abundance overlapping her arms. Lisa's experienced eye noted the way the experimental woman's dark nipples now pointed left and right, not ahead, forced off-center by the lack of room for those expanded breasts. Not a badly-built girl, Milena, indeed - she had rather generous hips, contrasted with an unusually thin waist; her thighs were full and shapely, and she had slender ankles.
"Terribly, thanks," Lisa said. "And you?"
"Marvelously, really, like a child. It must be a side effect of Dr. Bohm's treatment ..." she said, with a wry smile on her lips.
The treatment sure did wonders for your self-esteem, Lisa thought to herself. When I saw you in that dreary apartment, you were ready for the retirement home, and now you think you've become a movie star ...
"Well, you seem to be in much better shape than when we first met. You must be working out pretty seriously ... "
"Not as much as I would like," said Milena, sighing. "Unfortunately, being subjected to all these experiments in the laboratory takes almost all my time, day and … night. "
"Ah, I see. And may I know who your trainer is in ... gymnastics?"
“I don’t have any special guy, just whoever happens to be at the spa; the important thing is, after all ... the result. " Milena stepped away from the door and brought her hands up to cradle her fat, heavy breasts, then walked slowly and carefully into the kitchen; even so, her bosom overflowed her hands and wobbled and shook to each small stride.
Lisa, who until then had not looked up from her bread and butter, glanced at Milena and caught her amused smile. That's just about enough, the Danish girl thought - time to re-establish hierarchies.
She stood up slowly and got her balance as the weighty glands lifted from the table, and approached Milena, returning the false smile. Then, when they were face to face, Lisa raised her head, like she was staring at the ceiling, and with one jerk of her neck she banged her forehead down on Milena's nose. Milena ended up lying on the ground, a trickle of blood streaking her cheek, and Lisa astride her, knees pinning Milena's arms to the ground. Lisa was panting from the exertion, big pendulous breasts quaking with excitement. Then, grabbing Milena's neck with one hand, she said contemptuously: "Listen honey, up until a month ago you were a whore in retirement, and if you don't resume showing me the respect I'm owed, I’m going to kick your fat ass back to that miserable life. Is that clear?"
Milena, locked underneath, looked terrified, unable to utter a word. She managed to just barely nod, as if to say yes.
"I didn't hear you." Lisa moved her pelvis forward, to sit with her buttocks on Milena's face.
She heard a stifled groan between her legs. Satisfied, she rose and went upstairs to her bedroom.
Gunther returned in the afternoon; he had gone to Berlin to take care of some work. He found Lisa lying on the couch, TV on, the remote in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. She seemed completely at home, as if she had lived there forever.
"Hello, Lisa. So, how was your day? "
"It started badly, but it's definitely improving," she said.
"I'm pleased. If you have a moment, I would like to show you something."
"What?"
"Put your clothes on; we’ll take a walk in the garden."
She was still in her pajamas and robe; other than the exchange of views that morning with Milena, she had not seen anyone in the house.
"Surprise?"
"Surprise."
She went upstairs and came down quickly, wearing a pair of jeans, boots, and a skimpy black shirt. They left.
What Gunther called the “garden” was actually a park of several acres surrounding the villa; the gentle slope of the hill on which the building stood, was hidden by the foliage of mighty oaks. In the distance she could see the reflection of Lake Zern. It was a beautiful day, with the late-afternoon light hitting everything, defining colors, making it more brilliant and lively.
Lisa and Gunther walked across a field. "This property has been in my family for centuries. Before the Second World War, our possessions extended almost to the shores of the lake. Then Communism came, and changed everything. I was born and I lived here until 1957, then we had to move to Potsdam. I always thought, even after fleeing to the West, that one day I would come back."
They had reached the edge of a clearing, and before them stood a building, smaller than the main villa and modest, but similar in style.
"This is the hunting lodge, and behind it are the old stables."
The man opened the door and entered. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and cozy, low ceilings, paintings and trophies on the walls.
Lisa looked around. "What, you've bought me a little house all for myself, to keep me away from your guests?" she joked.
"No, indeed ... Come this way."
He opened the door leading to the stable. Inside, everything was redecorated in an extremely functional style. The walls and ceiling beams were painted white, there were shiny polished floors, slate gray, and worktables and bookcases.
"Our new offices," Gunther said proudly.
"What?" said Lisa, trying to understand.
"I thought we'd open a branch office so we can work here in Germany. Obviously everything is wired in with our operations on Ibiza and in Munich ..."
Lisa looked at him curiously. He sat at a desk and invited Lisa to do the same. Now she stared at him, as if waiting for further explanation. Then Gunther continued.
"I've got a contract, already signed, for the sale of our six major websites to the Score Group. Tomorrow, if you agree, we’ll go to Los Angeles to sign the contract, then Bermuda for a couple of weeks, and then home again. What do you think?"
"I think you're crazy! We're making a lot of money with the websites ... hits and subscriptions are increasing dramatically, and ...” When Gunther held the contract up in front of her and Lisa read the numbers in boldface, she was suddenly struck speechless. The amount was simply overwhelming. She found her voice, her tone completely changed.
"Maybe we should go talk to these gentlemen."
"I agree. There is another thing to consider, Lisa."
"What's that?"
"You'll notice that the experiments we're conducting, are producing excellent results. What we are doing here, with Professor Bohm, is really unbelievable. In a few months we’ll be back on the Internet with a new site that will overshadow anything that's been done before ... a site completely different from all the others - models with breasts so large that all our competitors' girls will be a joke, breasts spraying milk all the time, sado-masochistic situations. People will go literally mad for this."
"Listen, Gunther, I need to tell you about one thing. I had a little discussion with that girl, this morning." She carefully avoided mentioning her name.
"Milena. Yes, I know. She called me today," said the man. "She was in bed. With an ice pack on her nose."
"To avoid any misunderstanding, let me spell things out once and for all. I AM the business. We may be business partners, but I'm the one with the gigantic boobs that made the entire operation possible. These grossly overdeveloped titties pay for everything, including top management. It's my size that made all this possible. I'm the one that has to carry all this tonnage around. So – any website, no other model will have as much visibility as me. And, no argument, I will be the only girl participating in any further experiments in breast development. And I will continue to receive treatment until I decide that I'm big enough."
At that moment, she thought to herself, What would be an appropriate size? 56, 66, 76 inches? “No matter how insanely big I grow. Do you understand?”
Gunther interrupted. "Don’t worry - you are my true, only queen. There will never be anyone like you. I swear."
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