lisa&milena

Chapter one

2011-02-14T15:30:00.000+01:00

The warm and salty wind was coming up from the coast to the foothills: it passed among the tamarisks and maritime pine forests, bringing to the edge of the pool the scent of resinous trees. It was a beautiful sunny day in early summer on Ibiza.
Lisa was lying on a sunbed, with her legs bent and her thin arms stretched out above her head. She was 24 years old, green eyes, full lips and soft features, almost like a baby; honey-colored hair; and a tanned complexion, so unusual for a woman born in Denmark. And nature had endowed her with a slim body that any man would have called perfect, if not for a little anomaly.
Lisa had enormous breasts. And huge not by the meaning of the term we use every day; not a mere five-or-six-cup-sizes-too-big balloon-tits that would have caused embarrassment to many other girls. Lisa had a bosom that was huge even by the standards of a lap dancer at a Las Vegas topless bar, absolutely disproportionate and, even more incredible, completely natural. As she lay half asleep under the rays of the sun, her breasts sagged, quivering to her breathing, down along the sides of her well-defined ribs, barely restrained by the laces of her big black bikini top.
Lisa had been universally known, for many years, as the model with the largest natural breasts in the world. A marvel not only for her sheer size, but because, unlike many of her colleagues, Lisa used to show them with a unique ease. It was just the innate naturalness with which she moved, walked and made every little motion, that struck anybody who saw her; everyone marvelled that she could move so easily and naturally while carrying those mammoth breasts, their tremendous weight obvious from the long, smooth curve formed as they swung pendulously from her chest ... however, seeming to ignore the power of gravity, almost as if the grossly overdeveloped mammary glands considered the pull of gravity impertinent.
Her skin still wet, a pleasant chill crept over her as the light breeze picked up; Lisa was lying down, her eyes closed against the sun. She was following the scrawls of her thoughts unconsciously, in a kind of pleasant numbness.
She thought, perhaps because of that warm wind that touched her gently, about the day her life changed.
She had left the previous night from her small village in Denmark, a few days after the death of her mother. The only thing she was sure of at the time, was that she would not be turning back; she had left behind the technical institute, some boy who was drooling after her, and an adolescence full of humiliation.
She had stopped all physical activity at the age of fifteen, not because of the weight of her breasts, exhaustingly heavy as they were, but from the continual mockery of her girl-classmates and the lustful stares of the boys; she spent years wrapped up in large sweaters to hide, even from herself, how much she was different from the other girls. When her mother died she realized that she could not go on enduring all that by herself. She also decided that, if she had to put up with being stared at by everyone she met, she might as well do it for money.
So that morning, after she arrived in Hamburg and ate a sandwich at the station bar, she walked in the snow to the red light district. She searched up and down the main street for almost an hour. She was looking, amid the squalor of the cold winter light, for a place that was different - one that could, somehow, instill her with courage and confidence.
Eventually she stopped in front of one strip club, not because it was better or worse than the others, but because an old lady, the only living being in the neighborhood, was cleaning the entrance.
"Excuse me, where's the boss?" – she asked.
The woman stared, leaning with both hands on the broom.
"Up the stairs here at your side, right door.”
Lisa thanked her and began to climb the stairs, pulling the heavy suitcase after her. On the landing she stopped to take a breath, composed herself and knocked at a door covered with layer upon layer of black paint.
"Come in," - said a voice from inside. Lisa opened the door and entered.
It was not the office that she would have expected to find above a night club. It was primarily warm and welcoming, with carpets on the floor and wood-paneled walls; she noticed immediately that there wasn’t even a picture of a naked woman, which she naturally expected to find; the furnishings consisted of an old leather sofa, a dark wooden desk, a filing cabinet and hundreds, perhaps thousands, of bottles of whiskey. There were wooden boxes and loose bottles everywhere, on shelves, on the cupboard beside the front door, on the bookshelf. Lisa noticed that none of these seemed to have been used, there were no empty glasses around.
The man sitting behind the desk, who was looking over his glasses, was a dumpy gentleman, with a sharp beard and watchful eyes. Everything about him was prosaic, apart from the glasses that seemed, somehow, out of place.
Gunther (that was his name) in his life had drunk too much to be a connoisseur and too little to be an alcoholic. He had found, unlike many, his balance, despite leading such an edgy life as that of the owner of a night club. His practice and experience over the years had moved him away from the other vices that such circles lead to and so, at the age of sixty, he was living his profession as quietly as any other employee at the club.
The big girl who stood in front of him had wet hair; she was wearing a heavy parka and a thick scarf around her neck, dripping dockers boots that the man looked at with disapproval. On the whole she seemed to be just a young teenager verging on obesity, although her coat was pushed out unusually far in front.
"I wondered if, by chance, you were looking for a girl for the club ..." - Lisa began.
"First, would you mind closing the door?"
Lisa looked back, embarrassed, and shut the door.
"Your name?"
"Lisa," - she said.
Gunther for several moments stared into her eyes. Lisa looked down.
"Maybe you could try taking something off."
The girl approached the sofa, unrolled the scarf and took off the parka, dropping everything on the armrest.
Removing the coat had revealed a rough wool Norwegian sweater, under which the girl's frontage bulged out unnaturally large; it wasn't hard to guess what swelled her figure out so prominently. The man jerked back, startled, then leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk and, after a minute of silence, made a gesture with his hand as if to invite her to continue.
Lisa took off her sweater, threw it on the couch, and stood there, her ballooning bosom covered only by a t-shirt so tight that it seemed on the verge of shredding. No semblance of obesity remained; starkly revealed now were the thin arms, the slim waist, the tall figure.
And those full and overflowing breasts, so wide that their curves were completely overflowing her arms as she held both arms tight to her sides ... the largest breasts he had ever seen in his personal experience, were watching him. Or so it seemed at that moment. To make an embarassing situation complete, the cotton fabric clearly outlined the peaks of her large nipples.
She was wearing a bra, a big old-lady-bra, the outlines of its wide straps, reinforced cups, and thick bandeau visible under the shirt. Gunther could have had her continue disrobing or stop, it would have required merely another gesture with his hand. But he did not want to embarrass the girl any more than strictly necessary; he decided to reserve getting a full view of her as a surprise for that very night.
Lisa realized it, in that moment of silence, and smiled slightly.
"Are you legal? For this kind of work?" - asked Gunther.
"Eighteen years old. Just last week."
There followed another pause that seemed, to Lisa, to be very long.
"Here we do three shows a night, at ten, midnight, and two; the wage is 30 euros per show, plus tips, of course. If you want you can start tonight. "
"That will be fine, but ..." - she said.
"But ...?"
"You know, mister, I've never done anything like this, I do not know if I will be able ..."
"Girl, we're not the Crazy Horse, here; what you have, is more than enough."
Lisa took her things from the sofa, dressed and, going out of the office, said, in a deliberately baby-voice: "If you say so ..."

Chapter Two

2011-02-13T22:43:00.000+01:00

Lisa arrived at the nightclub an hour before the first show. Gunther, who was conversing with the bartender, took her backstage, to the dressing rooms. One would not describe the atmosphere as hospitable; no one even gave her a nod. The sidelong glances of the other dancers, as soon as Lisa took off her coat, turned into outright stares of disbelief. Lisa had never been in a situation exactly like this, but she knew very well that female hostility that she had heard behind her back all her life - expressions of false pity; jealousy, poorly concealed as amazement at the spectacle of how amazingly, unbelievably enormous she was.

"Look mister, today, what I said – I was serious, I do not know what to do ... I've never been in front of an audience!" - whispered Lisa.
"There are things more difficult to do in this world; you just go out there on the catwalk, take a turn, and undress yourself … let’s say, for a total of at least five minutes."
He gave her a pair of black leather boots and a man’s white shirt borrowed from the locker of a bouncer.
"It should be even easier like this; you can also keep the boots on. Of course, new girl takes the stage first. Good luck."
After he said that, Gunther came out, went back to the floor, and sat on the stool at the end of the bar, where he sat every night. Jay, the bartender, who had worked with him since Gunther first opened the bar, came by and silently handed him the first whiskey of the day. The club, at ten o'clock on a Monday evening, was almost empty, with perhaps a dozen people in the audience.
"Jay, I don’t think you have ever seen something like this; I get the feeling that tonight will be a special evening," he said.

It was definitely special for Lisa. Several years later, she still remembered each moment of that night so well, and it still gave her a shiver of pleasure.
She went out on the catwalk timidly, announced by a voice at the microphone, the sound coming from nowhere. The background noise in the room slowly became a buzz. She was dressed in a pair of black lace panties, boots, and a man’s white shirt, pulled so tightly across her front that it seemed about to rip; she was afraid she’dforce the buttons to pop out of their buttonholes just by breathing too deeply.
She began to walk slowly towards the end of the catwalk, while her towering breasts swayed to the rhythm of her steps. When she reached the end of the catwalk, she turned on her heels, went back to the center, and turned her shoulders to face away from the audience.
She undid the four buttons that barely contained her huge breasts, and slid the shirt over her shoulders, down her back to her hips and below her buttocks. Even with her back to the audience, the swelling, round flanks of her gross breasts bulged conspicuously out from her slender figure, so vast and bulky that they were clearly visible from behind. Then Lisa turned … slowly.
The first buzz turned into absolute silence, even the clink of glasses stopped.

She felt all eyes upon herself, or rather on that part of herself that was in sight, absolutely stunning in its fullness and abundance. The two unbelievably large tits swelled forward, almost oblivious to the drag of gravity; on her pale skin were planted twin large areolae of a delicate pink, slightly raised; and in the exact center of each perfect round areola, tilted upwards and a little to the side by the way her huge breasts fattened at the lowest slope, two nipples were now responding dramatically to the attention by hardening very noticeably.

She, also, looked at her breasts and then, smiling mischievously, she looked at the customers in the room one by one, arrogantly turning her gaze from right to left; and at that moment she understood.

She understood that displaying herself like this was incredibly exciting: for the first time in her life she felt to have power on people. In that moment it was obvious to her that all these men would bang their heads into a wall just to see her run her hands over her breasts and gently pull on those plump nipples. She didn’t do it, not that night, and not for all the other nights she was performing in Gunther’s nightclub. Not on the catwalk, at least.

After a few days the place was filled to capacity, as it never had been before, and despite the fact that Lisa for six months did exactly the same strut and silent display as on her very first night.

Every night, difference audiences took turns in the room: businessmen, sailors who had sailed half the world, workmen who had spent months on the oil rigs in the North Sea - but the reaction was always the same: a silent amazement in the wait for a kind of revelation that always came on time. Everyone of them was waiting in skeptical hope to see the girl with that amazing body: that massive breasts swaying heavily at her slow motion and wobbling like jelly at every footfall .

In Hamburg hundreds of strippers were dancing, writhing, clinging to dance poles or performing explicit sex on stage, but none had Lisa’s magic.

She understood then that what had always seemed a conviction to her, was in fact a rare privilege.

Chapter Three

2011-02-12T18:39:00.000+01:00

After the first week, one afternoon Gunther called Lisa into his office. He was sitting at his desk, and motioned her to the chair in front of the desk. On the desktop before her was a white envelope.

"Open it," - said the man.

Lisa took the envelope and looked inside, then took out her first salary. She began to count the notes; a little less than a thousand euros.

She sat there with the cash in her hand, thinking that she had never seen so much money at one time.

Gunther seemed to anticipate her words, saying: "I know, it really is only a pittance, but it's just the beginning, and we can do much better for you."

The girl looked at him quizzically; he realized he had to explain it to her.
"You see, Lisa, the stage, the runway down there on which you girls perform every night, is not the store, as you might think. It's just the shop-window ..." Lisa still didn't comprehend.
"Behind the stage, next to the dressing rooms, there are four lounges where the girls welcome our most generous clients, between shows. No sex, only extremely clean private performances. You could triple your salary, as soon as next week.” He could see the uncertainty in the girl's eyes.
"Of course, you're under no obligation to do this ... "
Lisa looked around with a bewildered expression. Then she said, "No ... it’s not that I don’t want to. It ... it's just ...."
"Yes?" Gunther encouraged her.
"I don't want to be touched. By anyone."
The man said, as naturally as possible: "Well, that's a personal decision and I don’t see a problem with it. Nobody will touch you. "
"No, you see, mister, I have a real terror of being touched. I couldn't stand it ..."
Now it was Gunther who didn't understand, so he leaned forward, and patiently waited for an explanation.
Lisa liked Gunther; he had won her trust from the very beginning. He never said much, but his words were direct and full of meaning. She liked this, and even more she appreciated his detached attitude towards his work, and her, and the other girls. He was the only man she had ever known who, when he first met her, looked at her eyes and talked to her face.
Sometimes, strangely, it’s easier to discuss the most intimate things with people you don’t know; so she decided to tell him what she had never told anyone else.
She told him about a summer vacation, on a Danish island with the family of one of her girlfriends; and how the father had taken her by force, in a hut on the beach. She told him about the lust she had seen in his eyes; and the fear, the hurt, and the humiliation she had endured. In an adolescent confusion, afterwards she didn’t condemn the abuser, but cast the blame on how different she herself was, her body so blatantly female and so disproportionately overdeveloped, the full-blown breasts of a grown woman incongruous on the body of a thirteen-year-old girl. Since then she had tried in vain to hide her femininity, but, frighteningly, year after year her body kept growing substantially, making her a woman among adolescent schoolgirls. No one had so much as touched her since then, but even the thought of such contact made her physically uncomfortable to the point of nausea.
At the end of the story they both sat in silence, she with downcast eyes, he staring at her intently. Then Gunther said, “I'm sorry, and I understand. Life always has surprises in store for us, sometimes good, more often bad. I've learned, however, that it’s wrong to close the door on reality, if you don’t want your life to become a string of missed opportunities. The choice is yours, Lisa. I can assure you that no one can - or will be able - to touch you. "
Lisa looked at him. "Maybe I could try and … see if it works."

The next night, Lisa gave it a try, and the result was another experience that profoundly changed her.
She had her own dressing room now, a reward for the drawing power of her act. Alone, she prepared, looking at herself in the mirror. Over those few days in Hamburg, she had changed more than in the previous years; she had acquired a new awareness of herself, and what she saw, her body reflected in the full-length mirror, she liked, perhaps for the first time.
She was wearing a matching outfit of translucent black silk panties and bra, the garments drawing even more attention to her form, showing off everything underwear was supposed to cover. The wardrobe mistress had been forced to make the bra specially for Lisa, fitting it with custom cups big enough to hold her great bulk, but the flimsy material gave little support to the tremendous weight of her bosom. The girl was also bedecked in a garter belt, stockings, and shoes with exaggeratedly high heels - for her, who only wore military boots. To complete the look she slipped on a nightgown, of sheer transparent silk, cinched at the waist with black ribbon; the silk allowed a completely unobstructed view of the deep cleavage that the marvelous bra formed between her enormous breasts. She finished applying her makeup, twisted her hair up in a ponytail, and came out. Gunther, who was waiting in the corridor, smiled at her without speaking, escorted her up to the best lounge, and opened the door.
Lisa entered. The low-ceilinged room was submerged in widespread darkness; the only lights were two shaded lamps that gave the chamber an ambiance of warm, golden light. The walls seemed to be coated with an arabesque cloth, heavy dark red; to one side stood a small couch covered in velvet, also red, and a small wooden table. Phone, water bottle, ashtray.
Strangely, she took in all these details first; the last thing she noticed, in the center of the room, was a heavy wooden chair with a leather seat and back.
It was fixed to the floor with sturdy steel bolts, and seated in it was a man, Lisa could not tell whether young or old, with his arms, legs and chest bound to the chair with leather straps. She liked the situation. It felt to her, for some reason, like she was a huge feline, looking at her terrified prey.
Now, Lisa was already a tall girl, about 5-foot eight, and with the heels she was a good six feet tall.
Her presence, even more because of the dressing gown floating about her and billowing out as she moved, seemed to fill the entire room. She strode slowly towards him and stalked around the chair. Her presence was announced by the delicate scent of light perfume, and her deliberate, exaggerated stride imparted a continuous wobble and shake to her oversized breasts.
She stopped in front of the bound man, only a couple of feet from him, her legs spread, looking into his eyes; took a deep breath, arching her back, and slowly removed the robe, slipping it down over her shoulders. From his vantage point, seated in front of and below the towering and monumentally-protuberant woman, nothing was visible but a monstrous black bra that seemed to blot out the entire ceiling. Lisa then slowly leaned forward, offering him a close-up of the deep valley that separated her breasts.
The man opened his mouth, but made no sound. He seemed mesmerized, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of her.
Lisa turned, presenting her back to the victim; she stood perfectly upright, her spine running in an absolutely straight line down her back to the slight indentations above her buttocks; she put her hands behind her back and slowly, caressingly, ran her fingers from her dimpled bottom up to her shoulder blades, feeling for the topmost of the seven hooks holding the huge bandeau closed. Lisa was always careful with the pendulous weights of her breasts, moving slowly, making sure the fat glands were jostled as little as possible; to her delight, as she took her time unharnessing herself, her chained prey writhed and moaned. She took her time undoing the closures, one at a time, unpinning each small hook precisely; the soft mountains of flesh wobbled and quivered freely in the silk cups as each jerk of her arms freed a hook. Lisa grimaced as she got down to the last two hooks; the burden of all that bosomweight was now pulling against only two fastenings, and she had to tug hard to get enough slack to release a hook. She now also had to keep her upper arms tight to her ribs, pinning the two side-bands so that the bra could not suddenly release her heavy mammaries to drop and jounce painfully. With a little gasp she got the last clasp undone. The bra went slack, and Lisa slid her arms to the front and cradled her now-unsupported bosom. Carefully, she eased the huge, heavy sacks of her breasts down and let them hang freely on her belly, wriggling her shoulders and sighing with pleasure at no longer being bound up. Then, crossing her arms over her chest, she shrugged the straps off, dropping the brassiere at her feet. She looked over her shoulder, turning her gaze toward the man to see what effect the display was having on him. She was now unbound, and the man who was paying for the night's pleasure was himself tightly bound. And even though he was completely bound, she could see him seized with uncontrollable tremors.
Lisa was at ease; everything felt natural, as if every move she now made was something she had always been able to do easily. And this feeling of being in control, a sensation she had never known until then, made her extremely sensual.
She walked to the couch and sat down, displaying herself in naked and sumptuous glory; she casually leaned back against the cushions and opened her legs, arms extended from her shoulders and stretched out on the back of the couch. She lazily brought an index finger to her mouth, sucked it, and then slowly slid her hand from her neck down the endless swell of her right breast to its tip, her eyes focused on the nipple.
She moistened the pink areola with her wet finger, then gently squeezed the uptilted nipple between her index and middle finger; she kept toying with the protuberance, until it began to swell with excitement. She furtively glanced at the man, seeing if this was getting a reaction. She smiled, pleased, because his reaction was to sweat and tremble like a trapped animal.
All this was happening, and Lisa could not explain it: she was as an actress who was playing to perfection a script already written, but at the same time she was a bystander struck dumb and unaware of what was happening.
When the nipple was fully erect and turgid, she leaned forward and sat up straight. She put both hands under the huge breast and lifted its great mass, bringing the nipple to her mouth. She began with quick strokes of her tongue and felt excitement slowly rise; she began to suck more and more eagerly, until the entire areola disappeared between her lips. She felt a warmth growing between her legs: her vagina was getting wet, responding to the thrill of excitement running down her spine. At that very moment, the nightclub actress and Lisa the spectator became one and the same person. She felt completely detached from reality, from that time and that place; all that existed was her sucking and moaning with pleasure.
When she looked over at the forgotten, fortunate spectator, she saw that he had lost consciousness.
Lisa would always be grateful to Gunther for suggesting that night, that she try a similar performance again; after the first time, the scene was repeated almost every night, and every night Lisa felt a unique pleasure in displaying herself naked and open, but to a completely powerless person, physically subdued and psychologically submissive to her.
Because these were the men in front of her - humans who in some way had challenged her, tried to dominate her, and had come out hopelessly beaten and enslaved to her body, in that room.
Each man was a new Ulysses tied to the mast in order to resist sorcery, but enchanted this time by Lisa's top-heavy body instead of the siren's song; they had challenged the precepts of the gods and failed miserably, proving themselves animal instead of human, trying with all their might to satisfy their instinctive urges, and failing.
At the end of every session Lisa would pick up her clothes and leave the room without a word, just one last look at the bound man to establish her superiority, and then the short walk to her dressing room, enjoying the feel of her ponderous bosom bouncing from side to side. Then she would stand in front of the mirror, looking herself over with satisfaction while lifting those monstrously fat breasts that nature had given her, weighing them with her hands and laughing with delight at how heavy they were, squeezing their softness into new shapes and bending over and letting them swing back and forth and slap together.
Not infrequently she found herself stretched out on the divan, with her hand inside her soaked panties, tracing the contours of her vagina and stimulating her clitoris, finishing what she had started in the other room.
No man would ever deserve to be able to do that to her.

Chapter Four

2011-02-11T11:02:00.000+01:00

In those months that followed, Lisa became a woman. The shy girl who had arrived almost by accident in Hamburg, gradually gained confidence in herself. You could see it by many small signs: the more direct glances to the people, and the way they reacted.
Her colleagues for example, that on her arrival were staring at her with a barely concealed annoyance, now seemed constantly suffer her presence, in a kind of obsequious respect: they hardly sustained the look of her eyes, they were moving by as she was passing through the corridors of backstage. Lisa then, more and more aware of her physical presence, she had fully abandoned the military boots and was moving decisively in the local, with her erect shoulders, swaying her hips on increasingly high-heeled shoes. In the few moments of dialogue she was interposing between herself and the other girls that gigantic breasts that seemed somehow to intimidate them.
The other girls, they implicitly admitted her superiority, even in virtue of the earnings that grew up almost instantly. Gunther had obviously put Lisa in the core of the strip club: Lisa knew the pleasure of being able to provide everything to herself, and this fact placed her over the other strippers.

With the men it was a different story. Lisa didn’t even notice them. She avoided their eyes, like she always had done before, but now she was leaking out not the embarrassment, but the annoyance for their attentions: in her thoughts they had no reason to exist, if not tied to a chair, as an instrument of pleasure .
Spring had arrived and Lisa had replaced her heavy sweaters with lighter shirts that were extolling the abundance of her forms. Now she was no more concerned, as she did in the past, to cause inappropriate reactions in passersby, but this could also lead to some problems: in her increasingly frequent shopping tours around the city Gunther made her discreetly followed by two of his most trusted bouncer. "They only have the assignment of protecting you from malicious guys" - he said once, even if at the same time he wanted to make sure that she wasn’t receiving any other job offers. In the Red Light District of Hamburg Lisa had soon become a celebrity.
After six months, Lisa loved her work. She was a successful woman, respected by the staff of the club and literally revered by her clients. And, for a series of strange combinations, it was there, for the first time, that she had felt sexually fulfilled and she had reached an orgasm. Certainly, in a quite unusual way, but on the other hand to have physical relations with men in her thoughts was absolutely terrifying. Lisa was understanding that she was excited not by men, but by the power she could exert over them, by the state of veneration to which they could fall in. So many of them, in her private performances, they started raving speeches, the younger ones about how they could make her cum to the exhaustion riding on her as a mare, the oldest ones about how they would have covered her with gold if she only would have let them touch those mountains of meat.
All this increased his contempt for mankind, but at the same time sexually excited her, knowing from her experience that at the end everyone would have lost the use of the word, ready to be thrown into the pigsty of their sole owner, their personal Circe.

It was on one evening in May, while in the office upstairs they were waiting for the start of the show, drinking something, that Gunther for the umpteenth time opened her eyes.
"Lisa ..." Gunther said, catching her attention.
"Have you ever wondered why all the girls in the nightclubs change local, or even city, every three or four months?"
"Not really." Replied the girl. She thought about it for a while and then said: "Probably because the customers want to see something new ... because they get tired of seeing the same shows and the same dancers ... "
"And if I tell you that it’s instead just the opposite?"
Lisa looked at him blankly and shrugged his shoulders.
"For a nightclub owner the problem begins not when the customers get tired, but when they grow fond of the girls. In this world we are living there are no real sentiments, everything is kind of distorted: it’s a condemnation that makes even a normal feeling to become, without anyone noticing, unhealty. And sometimes dangerous. Here there is no room for normal human relationships: we are selling sex, or its substitute, and love between two persons excludes that sex can be sold. In this little world there can be no love and there can be no jealousy: but the real world is another thing ... "
The girl tried to follow the course of his thoughts: she understood the meaning, but she couldn’t understand how this could be applied to her.
Gunther got up and walked to the small window cut into the wood panels, from which he could see the room below.
"Lisa, come here a moment, please." Lisa got up off the couch and joined him.
"See that man over there sitting at the table, in the front row next to the runway?
"Ha ha," said Lisa: "Mr. Schmidt is one of my best customers."
"No Lisa, that is your worst customer."
The girl looked surprised at him and laughed a jolly laugh.
"Come on, Gunther! He’s been coming here for months and he has left in your pocket at least thirty thousands euro! Is that a bad customer!? "
Gunther smiled, then turned and sat back down.
"I have know this man a long time ago, he’s been coming here for many years. Before you arrival just one or two times a month, very discreet. Now, since you're here, he is here three times a week, always at that table. Just without speaking about your private shows. "
Lisa was beginning to understand ... Gunther went on.
"He has been left by his wife two weeks ago, he was indebted to the lenders and in a few months he will have to sell the store that his family has owned for decades. In a year he will be ruined. These are the problems of a night club manager. "
Lisa now understood and, sitting on the couch, looked down towards the ground.
"You want me to go?"
The man looked at her with raised eyebrows. "By God, no!" He said.
"Well?"
"See Lisa, I'm tired of this work. I already sold the premises to Jay, because he’s a nice person who has been with me from the very beginning. But I want to make you a proposal. "
Now Lisa was listening intently.
"I own a villa up on the hills of Ibiza, which I bought years ago: I fixed it and I must say that it’s really a paradise, especially for someone who’s born and raised in Hamburg. Tomorrow night I’m leaving: I would like you to come with me ... "
Lisa was now confused, she had not expected such a proposal, not from Gunther.
He looked at her and read her thoughts.
"It’s a waste of time for you here, Lisa. You have the potential to become the greatest model in the world, a phenomenon like no one has ever seen. The world is waiting for someone like you. "
Lisa smiled and his eyes lit up.
"So, if you like, we could take a vacation and think about it while eating lobster on the beach. You can always come back here at any moment. "
Lisa seemed to think it over more than necessary. She was puzzled, especially for the lobster.
The next day they were flying in the sun, above the clouds, towards a brand new life.

Chapter Five

2011-02-10T16:17:00.000+01:00

These were the thoughts that Lisa was following while she was lying in the sun on that lazy afternoon at the beginning of summer. Since that first time, Ibiza had become her home, and God only knows how Gunther was right .
Thanks to some of his friends, Lisa appeared as a guest model on the website of a famous German porn star. Few photos which showed her for the first time in the world wide web and that was enough to nail down the server for several hours.
Within a few days they were contacted by the most famous American softcore magazines, with proposals for photo shoots, appearances or web exclusive contracts; Gunther, who had already expected all that, was very good in managing the image of the girl, by letting slowly grow the expectation for her true debut, giving to a few websites the anticipation of an imminent release in style. Despite of all the attractive offers, Lisa began to work with her own website, specially designed with a photo shoot that clouded any previous model.
By the time of three weeks Lisa was universally recognized as the model with the largest natural breasts in the world. Nothing to do with the enormities coming from the U.S, women who matched the immensity of their breasts with fat and overflowing bodies or girls that were showing at the camera their boobs, as hard as basket balls. Lisa was just a beautiful girl with a 40 inches hips and a 26 waist that matched with a completely natural double M breastsize. Simply amazing.
Lisa was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps coming from the patio.
"Here it is: a bit of educational readings for our star!" The voice of Gunther roused her completely. He turned around the sunbed and sat down besides her, on a chair, holding a roll of magazines.
Lisa sat up, not without difficulty, bending her breasts forward, and took them: Playboy, Scoreland, Big Ones. She began absently leafing through the glossy pages while Gunther, in a good mood, was speaking of the plans for the next day when, all of a sudden, she opened the Voluptous centerfold and suddenly stopped.
"And who the hell is this bitch?" She said with a slightly shrill tone in her voice. Gunther stretched.
"Oh, this new one. She’s a girl from Austin, Texas. Mandy and something ... "
"Mandy and something! But did you see those boobs!?"
"You know how they work in America, they take their mothers and morph them ..."
Lisa looked at him suspiciously, then began to browse the photo shoot, looking for any small sign of a computer job. Nothing. "Fuck, these are real, and she’s only eighteen!"
She felt a surge of anger rising inside. Then her eyes fell on the biographical data, and the anger became real irritation.
"Here, here they say: breast, one hundred fifty-two centimeters!" She looked at Gunther and said, almost shouting: "She has more tits than me!!!" Two girls, who were peacefully swimming in the water, turned astonished at them.
Gunther could not hold back his laughter. "I never thought that one day I'd heard that phrase from you!"
Lisa didn’t get the irony of the thing, she indeed threw down the magazines and folded her arms over her big breasts.
Gunther leaned toward her and said: "There is no other like you Lisa, you know it. Look at those two girls that I have requested to Munchen for the photoshooting ... "He winked towards the two swimmers in the pool ..." They have both a large double F, but at your side they seem to be two little schoolgirls."
Lisa was still closed in her dumbness. Then she erupted.
"I have no intention of being behind a Texas peasant. Gunther, I have to increase my breasts. "
"You're joking, I hope."
"You fuck, I’m not joking at all; I want a bigger breasts, but without operations, I want it huge and natural."
Gunther knew Lisa: at times you couldn’t speak with her. Over the years she had gradually acquired a very strong temperament: sometimes she was assuming very strong attitudes against the employees or the other models working with her, often for trivial reasons, just to establish her superiority, and in those moments you could not do anything but second her, if you didn’t want be in much bigger troubles.
"Maybe this year in December, let’s ask Santa Claus ..."
Lisa closed the conversation with a resounding fuck you, got up from the sunbed and walked toward the house, leaving the two girls and Gunther with their mouths open.

She quickly climbed the stone stairs that led to her bedroom, entered and slammed the door loudly. Her heart was beating fast, not just for the stairs she walked in a a hurry, but for this feeling of anger that was growing up in her body.
The room was in the darkness: the bright light of the sun was coming in between the slits of the shutters, softened by transparent curtains. Gradually her eyes became accustomed to the gloom and her breath came regularly. She stood in front of the big mirror that adorned the wall opposite to the bed, legs apart, hands on her hips. Then she stretched her hands behind her back, looking for the laces and firmly pulling them, took off her bra. She stood there in contemplation.
From the time of Hamburg, her eighteen years, her body had changed. Her forms had acquired more softness, rounder hips, more shapely arms, muscular thighs.
Se slid both hands, from the collarbone down to the areolas, following the gentle curves. Even her big breasts had gained a couple of sizes. The skin was now more amber and her light tan made it look silky.
Not a blemish, not a sign of stretch marks. They had lost part of that turgid aspect of adolescence, becoming softer in their roundness. It remained a mystery to her how they could set itself up so well, almost to the top in spite of their heaviness.
She went into the bathroom, completely naked and took a long hot shower. Came out wrapped in a towel blocked under her armpits and laid down on the intact bed.
The contact of the skin with the fresh sheets gave her a shiver down her back: she opened the towel and, with her eyes closed, started touching her nipples. They were already erected, proportionated to the size of the breasts, big and tough. Then she pulled them gently upwards, releasing them all at once, and the thrill of her flesh seemed to arrive all the way down the groin. Lisa went on like this for a while: then, without looking, she reached for the drawer with her hand: took out a soft and rubby dildo, smooth to the touch, animal size but human form. She turned it on: the vibration was accompanied by a slight hum, made it slide down, towards her vagina. She was following the movement with her eyes closed, biting her lower lip. Then, after a few minutes, with a sweep of her arm, she flung it away to the door: the hum stopped.
What a hell, if nobody was watching her, then there was no fun at all.

Thus, naked on the bed, she fell asleep.

Chapter Six

2011-02-09T17:22:00.000+01:00

The next morning, when Lisa came down for breakfast, Gunther was already at the table, with the newspaper open in front. As he was doing every morning, he looked up and greeted her warmly. Despite the years they had spent together, even in complete intimacy, between them there had never been anything. Not that Gunther didn’t like the girls, indeed, but for Lisa he felt from the very beginning this feeling of an almost paternal affection: and in any case he had quickly realized that Lisa was a great deal, as well as an excellent business partner, but to be handled with extreme caution. He knew of the idiosyncrasy that Lisa had toward men, and this undoubtedly facilitated their professional relationship. Lisa had never had a sentimental relationship with anyone and this fact didn’t seem to upset her. Better that way.

Gunther, the night before, had thought about the discussion they had the previous day and slowly an idea had grown in his mind: he had begun to fantasize about the words of Lisa, in his sleep, and he dreamed about her: she was real and yet immense. Sitting on the chair in his office in Hamburg with a gigantic breast, much bigger than she already had in the real life: her titswere barely contained in a white minidress stretched up to the agony, laying down over her crossed legs.
She got up and, walking around the desk, she placed herself beside him, hands on hips, overseer: from his sitting position, he was seeing her eyes amused, just sprouting from the deep groove created by this huge boobs.
"Now, do you we believe that Santa exists?" Lisa was telling him in the dream. He awoke up at dawn and was no more able to sleep any longer.
"I thought about what you said yesterday" - he began - "and this morning I made a few phone calls in Germany: there could also be the opportunity to fulfill your desire without bothering Santa Claus ..." Lisa, who was biting a slice of bread, stopped suddenly, her mouth open.
"I reminded of this friend of mine at the university and of what he told me a long time ago" - he continued - "and I think that he might give us an help."
Lisa's focus was now up. "You studied in a college?" she said incredulously.
"Sure, I had a few tests left to become a doctor, then I happened to go to Hamburg and I stayed there until we met. A great loss for science. "
"So what?" - Asked the girl excited.
"So, tomorrow we leave for Berlin. I have organized everything, flights, hotels and everything else. And of course the meeting with our luminary of science. "
Lisa coudn’t stand the excitment any longer and, as it was in her character, her mood was brighter for the rest of the day.
In the afternoon they did the photo session with the two models called by Gunther, and the result was spectacular: Lisa, lying on a deck chair, had her breasts sucked simultaneously by the two girls, drewing expressions of pure ecstasy. While posing, eyes closed, she imagined herself even bigger than she was and she almost enjoyed the mere thought.

Berlin received them the next day, with a gray rainy day: the huge black car leased by Gunther left the airport and slowly, in traffic, headed toward the campus of the Potsdam University, according to the indications which were given to the driver. The water flowed over the windows, distorting the figures of passers-by who were walking smoothly on the sidewalks, the umbrellas just leaning forward.
Berlin, University of Potsdam. Lisa's curiosity grew from moment to moment, until she could no longer contain herself. "So, you really mean it when you were telling me about a professor at the University... And what were you doing in college? "
Gunther turned to her, then looked away, as if to seek the thread of his thoughts.
"I was born and raised here, in the outskirts of Berlin in the DDR ..."
"What is DDR?" Interrupted Lisa.
Gunther looked at her dazed, then he realized that he was talking about things that seemed to have existed a hundred years before ... so far, not only in the past, but also by his common everyday life.
Communism, the Wall ... Almost beyond belief, even for him that had lived it...
"You know Lisa, I have more than twice your age, but we have something in common, you and me. Something very strong. The first time I saw you I knew you were running away from something, not just a place, but a condition in which you were forced to live. I liked your courage, because at your age I did the same thing.
I fled from East Germany when I was 25 years old. I didn’t know what I was going to find: I knew what I was about to leave, and that was enough for me to decide. And this is why I didn’t become a doctor ... " he concluded, smiling.
The car stopped at the fixed address. They were inside a University campus: wide and straight boulevards divided impressive-looking old buildings, from nineteenth century: few people in the street. Lisa got out, wrapped in a tight raincoat, and looked at the building in front of her: the wide staircase, leading to a colonnade, surmounted by a pediment in classic style. On it, in Gothic letters, there was a big ensign. It said: Institute of Veterinary Medicine.
She stared at Gunther who was standing on the sidewalk. "Think about, it has been more than forty years that I haven’t come around this places," he said in a nostalgic mood: he took Lisa under his umbrella and, holding out his arm, led her up on the steps.
”Institute of Veterinary Medicine? And your friend would be a vet doctor? " - the girl exclaimed in dismay.
"Yes, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, and professor at the renowned University of Potsdam, an absolute authority of this science."
Lisa could not believe her ears.
"And what do we have to do with with vets?"
The situation seemed to amuse Gunther, who couldn’t hide a broad smile.
"Well, my friend, Hans Bohm certainly will be able to explain it."
Engaged in conversation, they entered the building and were walking a long corridor, her heels echoing in the general silence, when a young girl came formly towards them .
"Hello, I'm Elizabeth, Dr. Bohm’s personal assistant," – she said in a cordial manner. "Mr. Gunther Mayer e. .. Miss Lisa, I guess ... " The coat was now open on Lisa’s chest and her eyes fell on the low-cut white blouse underneath, staring for a moment that was longer than the necessary.
"Yeah, you’re right, miss." Said Lisa.
She held out her hand, not looking at her face as she normally would have, but returning the look up to her breasts: it was her usual way to remark this small lack of grace in which all women inevitably were falling in front of her. Gray suit, blouse, tights and light shoes. Almost negligible breasts.
"The Professor has just finished his lessons" – she said with an embarrassed smile - "I will take you to his office."
They went through other corridors, until they reached the front of the office door of Professor Bohm. She turned the knob without knocking and made them enter and sit down.
The room was large, the walls full of shelves, and the shelves full of books, mostly enclosed in glass cases. Two tall windows were overlooking a beautiful park. It had stopped raining and the clouds that were quickly shifting through the sky in the windy afternoon modulated beams of light, transforming the room, now in shadow, now illuminated.
After a few minutes, finally, the professor entered.
Lisa didn’t know what could this man match with a night clubs owner in Hamburg: he was a distinguished man of medium height, dressed in a tweed jacket and tie. He wore a beard and a mane of white hair .
Behind the small steel-rimmed glasses, two light blue eyes were moving brightly.
He shook his hand warmly with Gunther and, taking the hand that Lisa was holding out, he declared himself very happy to meet her. Turned around the heavy oak desk and layed down on the chair, legs crossed, the fingertips joined just below his face. In the moment of silence that followed, Professor Bohm looked carefully at Lisa, then said: "I’m reading in her eyes that she can’t understand why she’s here ..."
Lisa, embarrassed, smiled: "Well, almost everything is born as a joke, and in reality ... really ... "
The professor filled the void, continuing.
"Me and Gunther are definitely a different generation than you, miss Lisa: even more, we are of another era. In our times there were two Germanies, in which normality was dictated by the Communist philosophy, where everything had to be sacrificed for the good of the nation. We, young East Germans, were sons of the Country even before of our parents. Gunther has had the courage that I, and many others, didn’t have; to flee and give up everything just for the promise of freedom. I've always admired him for that.
The day after the fall of the Berlin Wall, he came right here, from Hamburg, and knocked on the door of this same office, with a bottle of champagne in his hand! "
He took a long pause, took the pipe from his pocket, filled it and lit it with aware gestures. He thoughtfully looked at the spirals of smoke, rising toward the ceiling, as if searching for words to continue.
"Now you, my dear young lady: you are not German and you will find hard to understand our mentality, and even more the mentality of East Germans. We are descending from military tribes, by the Prussians, accustomed to hardship, famine and war. The Great Prussia, not the rest of Germany, gave rise to the mind of Friedrich Nietzsche, the myth of the superman and also its distorted consequences.
But Germany also has cultivated the worship of man, before of the superman: the personality of each individual as unique and inimitable, and all these concepts are so far from the banality of humanism prevailing in the rest of Europe. In this substrate, so particular, the communist East Germany after the war has found its way, certainly unique and peculiar. "
He stopped suddenly, as if to verify the level of attention of the two persons: it was clear the habit of the professor to speak in public, to his students or even to the distinguished gentlemen of the University.
"I’m not saying this to justify the Communist regime, for heaven's sake, but in some of its meanings, even for scientific purposes, this mixture of Prussian discipline, and Marxist philosophy gave great results.
Think for example about what happens in sports; the DDR, particularly with women, was for decades an invincible nation in nearly every Olympic sport, from swimming to weight lifting, gymnastics and athletics. All this was the result of a desire, common to some part of the scientific community and to the apex of political power, to explore what were the limits to which the human body, or superhuman, could be brought. Of course there was also an other aspect of propaganda, but it cared little for us young scientists. "
"Excuse me," Lisa interrupted, "but all these things, haw do they match with ... us?". And while saying it, she turned her gaze to the abundant neckline of her blouse. Professor Bohm smiled.
"You’re right, I digress. To get to the point, one morning I was summoned in a ministry here in Berlin, where I was proposed to join a "group of study" whose aim was to remain secret. It was born, think about it, from the perversion of a prominent member of the party for breast-feeding women. He was fantasizing about bringing to his bed girls with huge breasts. I learned this much later, of course. At the time I was taking care of milk production in livestocks, and they simply asked me if I wanted to make available to them the knowledge I had acquired. They wanted, or so they said, to increase the production of milk in human nurses, in order to ensure a naturally fed to theinfants, even if the mothers had gone to work, as it often happened in those years, in mines or shipyards. "
He felt the decline in concentration of the girl, so he decided to tighten.
"I'm not going to bore you with scientific data about the level of prolactin or other hormones in the blood of pregnant women. The point was that while cows produce milk constantly for years, in humans this ability is related to pregnancy and childbirt: they wanted to create a woman who could breast-feed constantly, regardless of the state: in which the mammary glands, the ducts, nipples, everything had changed, overdeveloped to achieve the final goal. "
"And did you manage?" asked curiously Lisa.
"Well, the results were really ... interesting, I guess. Although they never appeared in any scientific publication, of course."
By that moment Gunther and Lisa were hanging from his lips, and withthe perfect timing of an actor, he opened a desk drawer and pulled out a thick file, placing it on the desk. He opened it and pulled out a smaller folder, with a green cover and one name written by hand, in italics, and an acronym. Greta SV 14279. He put it, closed, in front of the two persons.
Lisal looked at the number and stood for a moment, hesitating. If there are signs of destiny, well, she had one right there in front of her.
Gunther and Lisa leaned forward at the same time: it was Lisa to open it with caution.
The photo that appeared, even in black and white, left no doubt. Greta, if that was the girl’s name, portrayed in profile , was on all fours on a marble table, her slender figure. Her mammoth breasts were resting gently on the marble shelf. On the next page she was standing, like in a mugshot because of the two perspectives: in front her enormous breasts were hanging down to her navel; from the side you could realize that, despite the incredible size, so far from flattening on the girl’s chest, the enormous breasts were definetely leaning forward.
Professor Bohm was enyoing the effect on both. Gunther, usually staid, he was stunned, his mouth open. The doctor broke the silence in a careless way.
"Greta was perhaps our best result. She was producing 6 liters of milk each day by each breast, a quantity that’s considered respectable even for a young Friesian cow. Of course she had to be subjected to special milking session for that ... "
Lisa looked up at him, with her mouth dry and her erect nipples under the blouse, and what came out had a strident tone dictated by her unbelief.
"Doctor, you are a genius!"
She looked again at the photo, almost giddy. Completely marveled by the perfect symmetry, the high and defined areolae, the proud nipples.
"I absolutely want to have a breast like this. Now." She seemed to look around, as if she was looking for a bed on which to undress.
The professor smiled, amused.
"These events occurred many years ago, my young lady. And you became aware of it only through the deep friendship which binds me to Gunther: I wish that everything you saw and heard today will remain between us." He closed the folder and reset the binder, closing it.
"Ending the conversation we had before: I must say that these so unusual expressions, or perhaps in a way aberrant medical research, gave their fruits; here in the DDR, in the seventies, were made the first experiments with synthetic steroids, hormones, even stem cells . In this case the stem cells, derived from animal placenta, in mares, had a specific role. But sometimes even science must surrender to nature."
"But the results were there," - said Gunther - "and those photos bear witness."
'It is true, we could change the human body, to create real mares, but the starting point was not decided by us, and we were never able to do that. "
Lisa was loosing the sense of the speech. "So, in plain English, what does that mean?" she asked.
The professor replied to her with a smile.
"It means that the necessary condition for the success of a such transformation is that the subject is pregnant or has given birth a few weeks before."
For Lisa that was like a punch in the stomach: she mentally repeated the last sentence of the doctor and then, slowly, she felt the irritation rising in her. She stood up, almost abruptly, leaned her hand on the desk as a sign of salute and, heedless of Gunther who was looking at her amused, left the studio slamming the door.

Chapter Seven

2011-02-08T12:19:00.000+01:00

She was reached by Gunther while quickly descending the stairs of the university building, her large breasts jerking at each step under the blouse. Lisa slammed the car door that awaited them, followed by man.
They returned to Berlin in a complete silence, even though the tension emanating Lisa's body was quite tangible: the girl seemed about to burst at any moment: in a couple of occasions she turned to Gunther, as to start a conversation, and then she turned back to stare straight ahead. In her mind she coudn’t accept that this could not happen.
Only when they were in the elevator of the hotel, alone, she exclaimed: "And you think I should have someone impregnating me like a cow to have a breast like that? Tomorrow I’ll go back to Ibiza, fuck Bohm and DDR!"

She went in her suite, isolated from everyone and ordered the room service. That was what she was usually doing when travelling around the world: she was taking possession of the hotel rooms, almost trying to rape them in their prosy order. Clothes and shoes scattered everywhere, newspapers, scraps of food and bottles of beer. Opened bags on the sofas, socks and bras coming out.
She took a long shower, increased accurately as every evening and put on a men’s pajama of burgundy silk. Then she felt on the bed, the remote control in her hand, while with the other one she was rummaging in some cartons of Japanese food placed in a tray, on the blankets.
As always in these cases, Lisa had taken two tablets of Zolof and the relaxing effect suddenly arrived. In the twilight, broken by the glow of the television screen without any sound, she could not take off from her mind those pictures of Greta she had seen in the afternoon.
She wondered where she was, at that precise moment, that girl of the seventies, that German DDR girl.

The next morning Gunther gently knocked on her door. He found her still lying on the bed, the television on.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Like an angel" - Lisa said, getting up and stretching, her arms stretched upward, the enormous breasts thrust forward. Her mood had returned to its usual and after the breakfast they had in the living room of the suite, she willingly agreed, when Gunther suggested to take a ride to Berlin.
They left the garage in a nice sunny day. The black car turned into Potsdamer Strasse, crossed the staid old neighborhoods and the early nineteenth century buildings, and soon came out from the chaos of the town.
"Where are we going?" Asked Lisa.
"I want you to see something. It’s a surprise. "
They were now out of the city and headed toward the area at the west of Potsdam, where many Berliners have their holiday houses, situated in the woods or on the shores of the lake. They took a side road, gently rising on a hill: all of of a sudden a big open gate, from which it started a tree-lined avenue. They shortly arrived at the sight of a magnificent country house, the walls of warm amber stone, the large white windows. The car stopped in the clearing gravel.
"So, what do you say about it?" Said Gunther.
"It's... is it yours?"
"Now yes, it is: I bought it a few months ago. The house where I was born and raised, before leaving the East Germany " - Gunther said with a wave of pride, as of someone who laboriously had reappropriated of his past life, and with it his whole memory.
"It 'wonderful, really!"
He opened the door and began to walk the empty halls, illuminated by the slanting rays of sunlight , coming in through the windows. It was a luxurious country residence house of the eighteen century, the oak floors and the walls covered in fabric. Lounges, kitchens, rooms for servants, bedrooms: everywhere furniture covered with white clothes: Gunther was walking purposefully through the corridors. He reached a door, at the end of one of these, unlike the other, locked.
The man pulled out a keychain from his pocket and opened it. They entered.
It was the old greenhouse, a large hall with a partly glazed roof, twenty-five meters long and wide just under a half. The contrast with the rest of the place was immediately obvious; here everything was neat and ordered: rows of shelves, work benches, cabinets, three work stations with videos and computers. A laboratory for clinical analysis, Lisa thought. Then she inevitably turned her mind to Greta, and to all what they had seen and heard the previous day.
Gunther seemed to read her mind, for he said: "Everything you have heard yesterday from my friend Hans I knew it a long ago, but I wanted you to have the direct proof. What he has done in the past is amazing, but it was precisely the late seventies, so I got the idea a few months ago, with the proceeds of my business, to finance the continuation of his research. "
"Gunther," - said the girl - "the experience of yesterday was something extraordinary: last night I could not sleep thinking it over, and when I did, I dreamed of having gigantic breasts, like that girl, and to move almost supporting them with my hands among dozens of people who watched me passing by in adoration. And not just men: women, dozens of women at my feet with their eyes fixed on my huge tits. "
Gunther looked into her eyes. "I had an orgasm in my sleep, as it didn’t happen since I was fifteen."
"Well, in these thirty years science has made great strides, so I hope that our professor could do something even for you."
"Even for me?" She said, noting the first word of the sentence.
"He asked me, just to start the experiments, to find a volunteer willing to 'sacrifice' her body to science, and you are too valuable to risk your modeling career."
"What do you mean by sacrifice?"
"Simply prepared to undergo testing: nothing particularly dangerous."
"If I know you a little bit, I suppose you already found the volunteer ..."
"We’ll meet her today, in the afternoon. Her name is Milena ... "

They ate in an old tavern on the way back to Berlin, and Gunther seemed to taste every moment of that day with great satisfaction. Fortunately they arrived late at the place, a few tables, no diners. For Lisa it was pretty much the standard to be heavily stared in public places, or even to be the object of heavier attentions, but in that particular day it seemed that everything was perfect.
Lisa also was experiencing this new adventure in a state of childlike excitement. She imagined, in her fantasies to live in her real life what he had experienced in her dream: to get expecially excited for the veneration of men and women at her body.
They took the road again after having lunch: this time they headed north of Berlin, in a working class neighborhood born in the days of Communist Germany. Time had also given dignity to these massive buildings full of popular apartments: the streets were clean, the trees interspersed with roads and sidewalks.
"It must be here," said Gunther, motioning the driver to stop. They got out and walked toward a building: climbed the stairs and began to go through the outside gallery, on which it opened the entrances of the apartments. They rang the bell: from the inside they heard a a scuffle and, after a few seconds, the door opened slowly. It appeared a sleepy-looking woman: she must have just risen from the bed. She was slightly higher than Lisa, even if with high heels the girl overlooked her richly: her face was kind, with large black eyes and full lips, but she was showing the signs of an obvious fatigue; tousled hair, a hint of circles. She brightened when she saw Gunther, jumping at his neck.
"Hellooo!" The reaction seemed sincere and embarrassed the man.
"And you must be .... Lisa" she said smiling. The gaze fell inevitably on the big breasts barely contained from a white shirt under a denim jacket. "My God, the great Lisa. You know, from life you you are so much more .... more!" She accompanied this speech with a gesture of her open hands, palms upward. Lisa, as usual, returned the glance to her breasts and merely said a cold hello. No more than a double B. She thought in her mind that it would take a miracle to make it acceptable, not just Professor Bohm.
They entered a room where it seemed a war had taken place, with cardboard boxes stacked, as in the foresight of an imminent move.
"You know, your bid has arrived just in time: that bastard, Helmut, after the birth of the child, has disappeared, leaving a lot of debt: and with a little baby in our ambience it’s not easy to work ..."
Gunther turned to Lisa: "Milena has worked with me in Hamburg for a long time and we've known each other for almost ten years." Then, speaking at their guest: "I’m the one who thanks you for having accepted, and I’m happy to give you an help if needed. I have also brought a cash advance, in case you’d need something."
He pulled out from his coat a roll of bills: he counted ten thousand euros, placing them on the table in front of her.
"Gunther, you should not have ..." and then she turned to Lisa: "He’s always been so good with us girls!"
"Oh, come on! – said Gunther - tell me Milena: with the baby, is it all right?"
"Yes, yes, I have already made arrangements with my sister, she will take him to Leipzig on Friday and he will remain there for some time. Incidentally this weaning is killing me. He’s always attached to my tits..."
In that moment they heard the cries of the baby coming from the next room, shy at first, then louder and louder. Lisa noticed that the blouse of Milena, in correspondence of her nipples, got almost instantly wet.
"Excuse me - she said, embarrassed - but I can not keep him quiet without a boob in his mouth."
Gunther jumped up, followed by Lisa. "Don’t worry, we leave you with your duty. See you then, at the villa in Potsdam on Sunday evening. "
They left quickly, descending the stairs and entering the car waiting for them.
"Gunther," - began Lisa.
"Yes?"
"Could you explain to me how you plan to get a model out of that woman, with that barely watchable boobs? Incidentally, she has at least thirty-five years!"
The man looked at her with a smile. "Patience, be patient andyou’ll see ..."

Thanks, tarquin.

2011-02-07T12:36:00.000+01:00

Thanks to a new gentle friend, I'm going to repost all the chapters starting from the beginning, with a new, much better translation.
Hope you'll like it.

Chapter Eight

2011-02-06T09:57:00.000+01:00

The next day Lisa left for Ibiza; she couldn’t wait any longer. A few days in the North of Europe, and she was already longing for the warm sun of that beautiful island.
During the flight she kept thinking about everything that had happened in the past few days … the university, Dr. Bohm, Gunther's villa, Milena. But most of all she couldn’t take her mind off the girl, Greta, photographed in that way, such a cold and antiseptic pose. Lisa was somewhat confused; she did not know what really was exciting her. Was it the idea of Lisa herself growing and growing and growing like that, or the mere sight of a woman much more endowed than she was? She regretted not having asked for a copy of the picture, although she was sure the professor wouldn’t have given it to her.
They had a boy, Luis, at the villa, who did almost everything; he was the gardener, the watchman, the pool boy. And that day he was at the airport waiting for her, as directed; he loaded the luggage and drove to the hills as the sun was setting. Luis was just the latest “boy” - they had had so many of them ... sooner or later, each one of them made the mistake of taking some liberties. It could be just a pause, a moment longer than necessary, by the pool, watching a shoot. If it happened with one of the other models occasionally, it could be laughed off, or if Gunther were the one letting his gaze linger too intently. But with Lisa ... Lisa brooked no familiarities from any man. Luis had quickly learned to avoid, where possible, the direct gaze of his employer. After a few days of watching Luis around the villa, noting his strong self-control, especially when it came to her, Lisa had concluded that the boy was gay. That she liked; less problems for sure. But at the same time Lisa felt the need, occasionally, to have someone admire her, as she had been admired from afar while she had been naked, magnificent, but unapproachable during her months on the stage at Gunther’s night club in Hamburg. And tonight, that night, was one of those occasions - the house was empty, with Gunther in Berlin, and nobody around her.
So, when they arrived at the villa, she said to the boy, "Oh, Luis, tonight, if you can, prepare me something for eleven o’clock. Not anything to eat, I’ll help myself from the kitchen ... " She gave him two bills, five hundred euros each. Luis nodded, looking down. It was a kind of game, now agreed upon between the two of them.
The boy unloaded her luggage and then drove down to the city. What he had to do was to find her prey, the calf to be locked up in a cage. To feed the tiger. The calf had to be young, handsome, but especially as strong as possible. This was the request of his mistress. For prey, Ibiza was the right place: full of weird people, always on speed and wanting to have fun.
He went down the main streets and began to take a look around; by this time he had some experience at this, and he could tell at first glance who would be a good sacrificial victim. After checking several outdoor bars, he saw a Swedish-looking boy, with a body toned by years of fitness and high-protein diets. Luis sat down next to him along the bar and offered him a drink. Then, he simply told him the truth: his mistress, a porn star on vacation, wanted to offer him a show. No video, no other people, a thousand euros his for the asking. The rules were: do not talk about it, he would be blindfolded while he was taken to her villa, and everyone would forget everything once it was over. Strangely, 80% of the young bulls he approached, usually agreed; this Swedish boy looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if there was a catch, then agreed, pocketing the money. He went willingly to the car with Luis and then, blindfolded, to the house in the hills.

Lisa, in her bedroom upstairs, was being prepared. She was hungry. It was a ritual by now, and she savored every moment - the heavy make up, marked around her eyes in thick black lines; her hair pulled back and gathered in a braid; underwear and clothes on the bed, precisely selected for effect; then being meticulously dressed. Each step of these preliminaries increased her excitement; she was feeling shivers down her spine, first lightly and then more strongly, gradually increasing in intensity and thrill as she approached the actual performance.
That evening she had chosen an outfit that had been used for the first time on a photo shoot that week. A shiny latex corset, embracing her hips and waist, and laced in front from her navel all the way up to the shoulder-straps.
Her huge breasts were pressed up and out of the corset, against her ribs, so that they seemed even bigger, overflowing the latex shell and exploding upwards. Lastly she dressed herself in long gloves, also made of latex; then boots to the groin, with towering spike heels.
A thong, in front only a tiny triangle of shiny black leather, standing out above the white thighs. Lisa, looking in the mirror, liked herself, loved the imposing and majestic image.
Down below, next to the pool, there was an outbuilding, fully equipped as a studio for the website photo shoots; Luis led the young guy into the outbuilding, made him sit in an old barber chair fixed to the floor, and then manacled his arms to the frame with a pair of sturdy handcuffs; he manacled the boy’s legs also, and then he took off the blindfold. He did it all with a soft voice and reassuring words, and the boy seemed amused by the situation. Luis then went out, turning all the lights off.
The boy called after him, and now his voice betrayed a certain nervousness: he went silent when, after a few minutes, he saw Lisa’s figure silhouetted in the doorway, illuminated only by moonlight. She seemed very tall, but at the same time graceful and sinuous in her movements. She turned on a halogen lamp, the beam deliberately aimed in his face; the guy narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the figure approaching him. Finally he saw her, when she entered the cone of light, and he could not believe she was real. Her magnificent appearance suddenly brought a grin of defiance to his face. Without knowing why, at that time he hungered for physical contact with her, any touch, even pain; he would eagerly have accepted being slapped, as long as she would touch him.
Lisa instead continued to stalk slowly around the chair contemplating her prey. Big, with defined arms, broad shoulders and big pecs. She recognized the bodybuilder-thickness of the neck and overdeveloped jaw, legacy of steroid use.
She stood in front of him, her legs apart, and slowly began to open the laces that closed the bodice.
"If you release me it will be more fun," the guy managed to say, hoarse-voiced.
"You're not here for fun, you idiot," - she said. Nothing more. Then she continued undoing the lacing until, with a gasp, she felt both enormous breasts hung free from the corset, turning from side to side to give the guy a superb view of her already erect and protruding nipples. Lisa looked at him with satisfaction, and slowly began to fondle her giant tits, to shake them, to hoist them slowly up and let them drop heavily down. She savored the jerk at her shoulders from the weight of all that breastflesh collapsing down, the slap of the mammoth glands against her lean abdomen. Ratcheting up her pleasure, she took her nipples in her fingers and pulled them upwards; the slight pain turned into a shiver of pleasure that reached her down to the pussy.
She could hear the sounds the boy made pulling at his manacles, a rhythmic clangor. She knelt on the carpet, and began to suck her breasts, while feeling the heat growing between her legs. Then everything disappeared.
At the end, when she stood up focusing her eyes on him, Lisa saw to her satisfaction that the boy seemed dazed, his pants soaked with sperm. She turned off the light and walked back to her bedroom.

Chapter Nine

2011-02-05T14:48:00.000+01:00

The days passed. Lisa kept up her normal daily activities, but unenthusiastically. In the morning she would go down to the office still wearing her pajamas, get a cup of coffee, and turn on the computer.
Her job mainly consisted of managing the websites. Created years ago, they had proved to be real gold mines. They stood out from everything else on the international network, first for their quality, but more importantly, because they showcased her.
She personally did not find operating the websites particularly stimulating – to her, web users were a faceless entity, anonymous numbers rising or falling. A company in Munich ran all the public relations, and had two secretaries doing nothing but answering emails sent to her personal address.
Lisa's main occupation was finding new girls willing to pose. She spent her time randomly surfing the net, including chatrooms and webcam girls looking for anyone who, in her view, had talent. The largest pool of candidates was the U.S., but the American girls were almost all excessive: too much fat, or too much silicone. Eastern European girls were perfect as far as their looks went, but often unprofessional in action - with the first paycheck they disappeared, often for weeks, fucking up months' worth of work. About girls from the Far East she knew absolutely nothing – it might as well be another planet.
This morning she was looking at some new models, in a photo portfolio that had just arrived in the mail. She quickly flipped through the pictures, finding little of interest.
Sabrina, Kiev. Black eyes, olive skin, long and dark hair. 47-28-41 .... Katrina, St. Petersburg, blue eyes, fair complexion. 46-26-43 .... Lara, Kosice, black eyes and brown hair. 48-30-42 ... They all looked just passable, nice bodies, nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, none of them had anything comparable to her own huge, sagging breasts, not even remotely approaching her extraordinary size, but since the revelation in Berlin, every woman on the web seemed so .... flat. That was the exact word. By now, Lisa was dreaming of a row of beautiful models with truly mammoth tits. That human cow, on hands and knees with her enormous breasts hanging down so far they rested on the ground, was still in her thoughts: Greta, Greta ....
The phone rang - it was Gunther. He called often, just to see how things were going and to make sure that Lisa was alright. This morning, though, just from his voice, she knew immediately that something had come up.
"Do you have your computer on, dear?"
"Sure, it's always on."
"We just installed the webcam, and Milena wanted to say hello ... just go ahead and connect ..."
She typed in the web address, and a few seconds later Gunther appeared in the foreground.
"She just finished the first session of treatments and ... well, it seems the procedure is working fine, though perhaps it’s a bit early to say ..." Lisa bit her lower lip; she was excited by the news. Milena appeared in the frame and waved at her with one hand. Lisa immediately noticed a change - it looked like a different girl, she even appeared younger. But as soon as Lisa got over the disorientation of Milena's altered appearance, she spotted the significant protrusions under the older woman's sweater. Lisa had an expert eye, and those were no B-cups anymore ...
"Come on, show Lisa our surprise," said Gunther. Milena disappeared from view, pulling her blouse up, and reappeared wearing only her bra. Gunther moved her close to the camera so that the now-very-badly-fitting brassiere completely filled the screen. Poor Milena was stuffed into the bra; she wriggled uncomfortably, tugging at the straining garment where masses of flesh overflowed the cups and even the sides.
Lisa's eyes widened in disbelief. Those fat tits were at least twice the size they had been before; Milena had been inflated, at a guess, to around forty-eight inches. No woman could have added that much titflesh in just over two weeks. It wasn’t human.
Lisa didn’t want to see any more of it; she suddenly turned off the camera, then the computer. She felt a growing sense of irritation; and all of a sudden irritation became, quite irrationally, full-fledged anger.
She had to be be there, that very moment - she had to be undergoing Professor Bohm's treatment. Lisa took the coffee cup from the table and violently flung it to the floor. She stood still for a moment, staring at the shattered cup and waiting to see if it lifted her mood of resentment. Nothing changed; the petty tantrum was not enough. So she stalked through the office, looking around, and stopped in front of the wardrobe: jerked a club out of Gunther’s golf bag - a sleek, cold and heavy 7-iron. She stood a little to the side of the computer, took a deep breath, then swung the club horizontally at waist-level, smashing the screen and knocking the monitor over. And then it was the turn of the keyboard, the mouse, the router, whatever was on the table. Finally she threw the club through the French doors overlooking the pool, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces.
Luis came running, fearing some disaster, and found the mistress standing stock-still, fists clenched and arms stiff at her sides. Her enormous breasts were still quaking as she gasped for air, out of breath from the uncharacteristic exertion.
She looked up, panting, when she saw him. "I was thinking about playing some golf," - she said to him - "they say it's relaxing."

Lisa had never in her life done any kind of exercise and, to tell the truth, her body was hardly up to physical activity - she was indolent and sedentary, quite soft, and lacking muscle tone, but she had a naturally sleek and well-proportioned body.
The only sport that she liked was horse-back riding, which she indulged in almost every day.
So after that morning's tantrum, she told Luis to have her horse ready for a late afternoon ride. The phone rang several times, always Gunther, but she didn’t want to talk about what he had shown her that morning. So towards evening, she got on her horse wearing very casual clothing: wide linen trousers, t-shirt, and denim jacket.
She had begun riding as a child in Denmark, on her uncle's farm, and she had always enjoyed it. As soon as she could, in Ibiza, Lisa had purchased a beautiful and docile bay horse. She named him “Old Man” after Pippi Longstocking’s horse, a reminder of her childhood memories.
Furthermore, horse-back riding, the gentle rhythmic gait of the animal and the rocking contact of her pussy with the hard saddle, always brought back memories of her first sexual arousal. "If only everything were that easy, today!" she thought as she let Old Man pick his way down the dirt road toward the beach.
She always kept the animal to a slow pace; her breasts weighed so much she couldn't tolerate a gallop. The sedate ride let her just enjoy the sea and the beach around her, and also let her luxuriate in the gentle tremors that shook her body with every step the horse took. It was her firm rule never to wear a bra when riding, so of course Old Man's steady plod sent her large bosom swaying and wobbling against the rough denim of the jacket, exciting her nipples. And, even better… like most women whose breasts had grown very big naturally, Lisa had extraordinarily large, wide and sensitive areolae. And she enjoyed the erotic, pleasure discomfort of her breasts bouncing unrestrainedly from side to side. The total effect was incredibly relaxing for her.
Lisa tried to think rationally about what had happened that day. Basically nothing had happened! She remained unique in size and beauty, incomparable, no matter how much that girl Milena had grown.
But the fact remained, Lisa had to return to Berlin as soon as possible; there was no doubt at all. That woman was stealing her heart's desire, her dream of becoming the woman with the biggest tits on earth. ‘Cause now, after what had happened, she could clearly see the final outcome of the incredible saga. She would be remembered forever, as the model with the most incredible, gigantic, natural breasts of all time.
When she returned to the villa she went online and purchased her tickets, and gave instructions to the staff. And two days later Lisa left, destination Potsdam.

Chapter Ten

2011-02-04T16:32:00.000+01:00

She had slept all the way through the flight to Berlin: the stewardess on board had woken her up just before landing. But while helping to fasten the seat belt for landing, the girl had leaned across so that her arm could not avoid the Danish girl's swelling frontage, exerting a slight but continuous pressure on Lisa's bosom as she cinched the belt. At her astonished gaze, the girl suddenly blushed and whispered a few words of apology. Lisa smiled condescendingly: "No, no, please - touch me if you want. Feel, you can tell how real they are. See?" The girl’s face turned red. Lisa was now quite comfortable with her mammoth bulk. She quite liked it that displaying herself in public brought out these reactions in women, to have them pay so much attention to her and approach her hesitantly, knowing they had to ask permission to be in her presence. It pleased her to think that this fascination with her body could somehow transcend mere human sexuality: she and her gigantic mammaries inspired wonder and deference, not merely lust.
"They are so ... awesome," the stewardess whispered, embarrassed. Lisa in turn cast an eye down the girl's neckline, and with a single glance dismissed her: a B-cup. Hopeless, in her world. Too flatchested to be any kind of woman at all; the narrow bandeau and silly loose cups, hardly worthy of being called a bra.
The car Gunther had sent to pick her up at the airport that evening: a wretched Mercedes. Lisa hated sedans. She always felt like she was suffocating, the struggle of maneuvering her grossly top-heavy body in and out, with handbags, heels and all the apparel she inevitably brought with her; and it was always ridiculously uncomfortable. She had, simply, grown far too big to fit into an ordinary car easily. She decided she had to talk to Gunther about it - next time she wouldn’t get into anything smaller than an SUV. But at the moment she was tired; cursing, she got in.
The change of scenery was startlingly abrupt - since she'd napped on the plane, she found herself disoriented, seeing such a different landscape when she looked out the window. The whole place seemed inhospitable, compared to Ibiza; then, when they left Berlin and the city traffic, the warm light of sunset threw a golden haze over the windows of the houses and over the treetops, pervading everything with an aura of silent tranquility.
About three weeks had passed since that first trip, and Lisa didn’t know what to expect: the night before, in retrospect, she had concluded that what she had seen, couldn’t be true. Somehow, that bra had been stuffed - those suddenly-swollen breasts could not be real. She distinctly remembered what Milena had looked like, in that proletarian-housing building outside Berlin: utterly nondescript, certainly from the tit point of view. Maybe, she thought, Milena had a twin sister with two frighteningly big boobs and Gunther had taken the opportunity to make up this stupid joke. But then she also thought about Greta’s mammary glands ... the girl who had been the prize of the experiments in the seventies, whose breasts seemed to be completely genuine. Lisa had some experience with the tricks of morphing images on a computer, and the shape of Greta's watermelon-like breasts, their contour lines into her torso, the shadows projected on her thin body ... that photograph just didn't look like it had been manipulated.
In conclusion, Lisa was torn between two contradictory desires: she wanted to believe that this was possible, but she instinctively denied that it could happen to any woman other than her.
While these thoughts were running through her mind, the car pulled up to the country house's gate; she recognized the dirt road leading up the hill. The car took the road slowly, winding through the woods, finally arriving in the large courtyard. It was almost dark, and bright windows on the first floor cast large squares of light on the ground. The door opened, even before she approached, and a smiling Gunther appeared.
"Lisa, finally! " He embraced her unusually warmly - he, who always showed such a controlled manner in public.
"We were waiting dinner for you. I invited Hans to join us." Then he added, almost in a whisper: "Really, he invited himself. I think he couldn’t wait to see you again. Come this way."
They entered the great hall, and then went into the adjoining room, the source of the bright lights showing outside. There was a blaze in the large fireplace, and beside it, despite the warmth of the season, stood Professor Bohm and Milena, as if they were waiting to attend her. It was the man who greeted her first - asking about her flight - how she had been doing in Ibiza - cordial and solicitous. Milena stood shyly behind him, and looked almost embarrassed, like a younger schoolgirl hoping upper-school Lisa would notice her. Lisa began instead to talk with the doctor, ignoring his experimental subject. Lisa had of course given her a quick appraisal immediately upon entering the room - the sweater covered a more than ample bosom, but she couldn't tell whether or not that was real flesh filling out the sweater. Superficially, the big, round boobs seemed very natural, bouncing gently as Milena walked, the whole mass wobbling and its shape shifting – not at all the rigid outlines of a filled bra. If Gunther was indeed pulling some kind of joke, he was going to be paying a heavy price for that joke, she thought to herself.
Gunther himself was trying to defuse the tension in the room; when there was a momentary pause in the conversation between Lisa and the professor, he made a quick sort of presentation.
"And this is Milena - you remember her, right?" Lisa looked over from the Professor to Gunther and replied: "Do you think I'd forget?" Nobody said anything else.
Lisa struggled to present a detached demeanor, but she was really dying to know what was actually going on in that house. And particularly in the laboratory in the greenhouse.
Dinner was announced, and Gunther led them into the dining room. Lisa excused herself for a moment to the adjoining drawing room, and quickly took off her blouse and freed herself from the sturdy, heavily-wired travel harness. She replaced it with one of her light, sexy, lace demi-cups that offered ludicrously little support to the fatness of her extremely pendulous breasts, but it eased the soreness she felt from being constricted all day, and let her breathe. Lisa sighed with relief, and slipped the blouse back on, now showing impressive décolletage befitting her awesome body. Looking around the dining room, Lisa noticed that everything about the house was perfectly chosen, all exactly appropriate and placed just so. It was like actually going back in time, traveling back to the home of a noble family of the nineteenth century. It even seemed like the soft, warm golden illumination in the dining room came only from the many lighted candles.
The dinner was absolutely superb, and she could hardly fail to notice that each course was one of her favorite dishes: fish, oysters from the North Sea, a giant lobster with an incredible aroma. Lisa, who always had a hearty appetite and no compunctions about indulging herself, took substantial servings of everything; but halfway through the lobster, she noted with surprise that Milena was easily outdoing both her and the two men, eating voraciously and sending her plates back for additional portions which she wolfed down greedily. The woman sat quietly and said nothing after dessert, but she had a definite expression of disappointment when the meal was over. The menu was typical Gunther - treating her like a queen - especially if he felt he had done something which needed forgiveness. Now, the perfect host, he entertained the guests with a nostalgic recounting of his childhood incidents connected to the place. Apparently just seeing her again had really made Gunther a different man, putting him in a friendly and confidential mood, but as Lisa sat there his voice became muffled, sinking to a sort of background hum in her ears. Her thoughts were elsewhere, focused on the two other guests; she would dart her eyes back and forth from one smiling face to the other, until involuntarily stopping on Milena, forced to look down, and finding her gaze riveted to a swollen breast. As she watched the woman, moving around naturally, completely at ease with her new big bosom, it was like finding the tiny discrepancy that revealed some farce was being played out in front of her. Because now she was convinced - it was all too perfect. It couldn't be what it seemed.
After dinner they moved into the sitting room. Lisa, who rarely smoked, accepted a cigarette from the professor and then, as nonchalantly as possible, asked him how the study was proceeding. She said "study" and not experiment, not wanting to reveal intense curiosity with her choice of words; she would let the doctor choose to talk about anything, even something related to his university research.
Instead, with a sympathetic smile, Professor Bohm went straight to the point.
"We are replicating the same protocols that we initially implemented years ago, and I must say that the results are extremely interesting. Of course the technology of today makes it easier, and the laboratory that my friend Gunther set up, need not envy even the most advanced research centers ... "
Lisa, sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and listening to him intently, leaned forward and encouraged him to continue.
"Our Miss Milena, she is responding well to therapy. At this early stage we are causing her body to produce essential hormones, such as prolactin, in precise dosages, for the growth of mammary tissue. The second phase will begin shortly, and involves administering animal-derived hormones, in addition to mechanical stimulation." He said this in a completely clinical tone, while Lisa was opening her eyes wider and wider at every word he uttered.
She finally found the courage to ask. "And for that thing ... you know ... that she has to be pregnant ..."
"We are working on it, and I think that particular obstacle could be overcome. Of course, we will need other volunteers who are not in a postpartum condition such as Milena was. I spoke with Gunther about this, and he believes that we will have no problem finding one or two girls with the ... let’s say ... vocation for science."
He said this with a smile, but Lisa was anything but amused. "Doctor," Lisa interjected, "I know Gunther - we have been business partners for years - and I'm sure he will not mind me saying that there will be no more volunteers. I will be the next girl to submit to your treatment."
He looked puzzled: "But ... you know, my dear, it is especially because you are business partners, that Gunther made it clear your body is too valuable to be subjected to experimentation. This process may be successful; however, there is the possibility, albeit very small, that it might pose health risks. I'm certain, considering your present enormity - natural enormity, that is - you would surely be a perfect subject ... and I have no doubt you would respond very well to our therapy ... "
"Well, you know doctor, fuck it - if the next girl you help grow more tit isn't me, it won’t be anybody." She finished speaking, with an effort heaved her top-heavy body up from the couch, and made as if to stalk from the room. The angry tone of her final words caught the attention of Gunther and Milena, who had withdrawn to the front terrace and left the two of them alone to talk.
They now hurriedly returned, and Milena also said that she felt compelled to leave.
"Excuse me, but I'm tired, and I think I'm going to turn in for some sleep," she said.
But as she said this and turned, the two reached the doorway simultaneously and almost collided; as it was, they had to shove their overflowing bosoms against each other and squash the protruding flesh to the sides, in order for both women to be able to fit in the doorway at the same time. Milena then actually leaned forward and pressed herself even more into the yielding pillows of Lisa's breasts, mouth next to her ear, and said softly: "I wish we could be friends. Come and see me anytime, I'm in the room down the hall to the left." Then she pulled gently away and squeezed past Lisa’s big shelf of tit.
Lisa was livid at the woman’s effrontery – actually pressing against her, touching her – but as she started to upbraid Milena, she had felt the prongs of two big nipples burrow into her own jelly-soft breasts. "Shit!” she thought, “I can't believe it - those things honest-to-God do seem like they're real."
She needed her pills immediately. She said goodnight to Dr. Bohm, and asked Gunther to accompany her to her room. First floor corridor to the left, second door on the left. Before she went in, she looked at the closed door down the corridor.
The maid had prepared everything, unpacked her suitcase, laid her silk pajamas out on the bed, put her toiletries in the bathroom. Too much order.
She prepared herself for bed - lingering in the hot shower to ease the soreness in her neck and shoulders from carrying those ponderous breasts all day, carefully washing each oversized gland and rubbing aromatic oils into the sore flesh. She hummed softly to herself as she kneaded the exquisite mountains of flesh, giggling as she would attempt to lift first one and then the other. "So big! Big and heavy beyond belief! How could I have ever dreamed I would grow so large?" Then she put on her pajamas and slipped under the covers.
She knew she was not sleepy, despite the tranquilizers. Staring at the old beamed ceilings, she felt an idea start to form in her mind - the desire to go and see exactly what Milena was really like now.
Were those really her tits, ballooned to such an impressive size so quickly? And if so, would they be natural to the touch, or would they feel like those silicone monstrosities she saw all the time in the magazines?
While Lisa lay sleepless in the dark, thoughts chasing each other around in her mind, she heard a swish, at first light and then more and more determined. She might have been wrong, but it seemed like the creak of a bed. Shortly after, the squeak became the dull thud of a headboard banging against the wall; and then it was clear, unequivocally, that someone was screwing. And judging from the muffled moans resounding over the bed creaks and bangs, they were indeed having fun ..
She reached her hands under her pajamas, to her thighs, stroking, and then wandering to her vagina. Then, finally, sleep took hold of her.

Chapter Eleven

2011-02-03T21:56:00.000+01:00

"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."

Chapter Twelve

2011-02-02T08:37:00.000+01:00

The three weeks that followed were a whirlwind of excitement for Lisa. They flew to California and started with the perfect kick-off, signing a multimillion-dollar contract. After that she and Gunther immediately gave themselves up to a round of guilty pleasures, to ease their consciences over selling their creation. They went to the best clubs in Hollywood, alongside movie stars; an American actor, whose path they crossed by chance in a restaurant, was so kind as to fill Lisa's hotel room with hundreds of red roses. Of course, she ignored him. Then they chartered a private jet to Las Vegas, a city where the treatment anyone receives is directly proportional to his bank account. In their case, perhaps because word of the contract preceded them, a limousine picked the pair up at the airport, transporting them directly to the most luxurious suite at the most luxurious hotel in town. Three days of vice and gambling followed, and (incredibly) Lisa even managed to bring home more money than she had arrived with. From there they flew to Philadelphia, and then Hamilton, Bermuda.
Gunther had rented a beautiful villa on the sea, and the days passed dreamily, going out fishing or strolling over beautiful golf courses. Actually Lisa, at the insistence of her business partner, tried to learn to play golf, but she soon realized that her physical conformation was completely incompatible with the game. She just could not just hold her arms in front of her chest because of all that breastflesh, and even if she could, she wouldn’t be able to see the ball at all. So Lisa decided to pamper her body with endless Thai massages and beauty treatments. The first time that the petite oriental masseuse came to their villa and saw her naked, she was petrified, overwhelmed at the mere sight of the enormous woman. At first she could only stand there with her mouth open and gently poke a mammoth breast, afraid her little hands were not up to the job of attending to the biggest tits she had ever seen, let alone lifting one of the behemoth glands. Lisa was used to other women being amazed and terrified at first sight of her grossly overdeveloped body, and just lay there quietly, letting the girl get used to her bulk, calm down, and work up the nerve to come close and then touch her. She smiled encouragingly, and the girl tentatively set to work. But after a few days of massaging that exquisitely soft, plump body and caressing the over-abundance of bosom, her hands sinking into the sprawling mounds of yielding flesh, she was childishly delighted with Lisa's mountainous breasts and virtually worshiped the great pillow-like masses. As she was moved and positioned, the great masses of her breasts undulating across her chest and hanging ponderously down the sides of her ribcage, the girl kept repeating, "You do not have a single stretch mark! How can you be so huge?You’re not human!" After a few days of this, Lisa herself was half-convinced that yes, maybe she was not of this world.
Time seemed to stand still - no obligation, no deadlines, only peace and tranquility. When the carefree sybaritic vacation was over, as soon as they left for Europe Lisa was visited by an emotion, unexpected and unwanted.

They were flying over the Atlantic, in the darkness of the night sky, the hum of the engines in the background. Lisa was thinking back over these last three weeks and her thoughts turned to Gunther, sleeping at her side. It was almost as if the man had picked a little girl up from the dust, and had transformed her into a successful model. More remarkably, he had taken a girl overwhelmed with so many emotional complexes, and made a real woman out of her. He had made it possible for her to get everything she wanted: so much money she could buy anything; fame, not intrusive but discrete - the kind that only the web could give - fame without having to attend ceremonies or go on television; but especially he had given her the freedom to live every moment of her life, the way she wanted to.
She suddenly felt something like genuine gratitude for this man, and the fact that she had such feelings amazed Lisa. It wasn’t at all like her; indeed, over the years she had firmly forced herself not to have any feeling for anyone. Certainly, with men it was easy because she always thought of the human male as an inferior species - always guided in their decisions by their animal instincts, so easily fascinated by her overflowing bra, and so easily subjugated by their desire for her. Women … she almost always felt a sense of unbridled antagonism towards other females, especially those who tried to get to her level. She had no friends, nor did she feel any loss at the absence; she had herself, and that was enough.
With her eyes closed, she began to imagine her arrival at the villa - the effusive greetings from Dr. Bohm, his fawning attention - the state of excitement everyone would be in as they started her treatments - and her breasts, already mammoth, growing and growing, day after day after day ... She fell asleep with her hands tucked under the blanket, as if weighing those two wonders that she could already imagine growing immeasurably immense.

"I’m not gonna get in a sedan any more in my life,” she had told Gunther before leaving Las Vegas.
Travel was hard on a woman as top-heavy as Lisa, and this trip had been particularly tiring: Madrid; Ibiza, where she absolutely had to attend several photo sessions, and then, after a few days, Berlin. At each arrival a giant black Hummer was waiting for them. Really, nothing said it better - that man knew how to treat her. Gunther and the driver helped her into the vehicle and settled her comfortably in the rear seat and strapped her in. Once the Hummer started moving, Lisa allowed herself to begin anticipating their arrival at the villa; she could barely contain her growing state of excitement.
During the time they had spent away from their new home, there had been little contact, just a couple of deliberately generic calls. Professor Bohm had insisted that Gunther keep in strictest confidence the very existence of the regimen of trials they were conducting, and especially any mention of his name. Neither of the partners, therefore, had any idea what to expect, apart from Bohm's vague assurances that everything was going well.
The big Jeep arrived at its destination at dusk, up the access road, and parked in the graveled courtyard. The door of the car was opened by a young girl, whose face reminded Lisa ...
"Elizabeth, assistant to Dr. Bohm," she said, smiling as she anticipated the query. "Today we stayed a bit late to finish work, and Professor Bohm asked me to meet you..." She spoke cheerily to Lisa, who waited for the driver to come around and unstrap her, and then for the two men to help her out of the Jeep and get her on her feet.
Lisa did notice that the girl, whom she clearly remembered as absolutely flat-chested, now sported (at least) a double-D rack.
"Are you undergoing treatment?" she asked.
The girl blushed. "Well, it wasn't my idea … actually it was my boyfriend's suggestion ... and the professor thought it might be useful."
Lisa had never imagined that there could be so many women willing to sacrifice themselves for the good of science. She was pleased to note that, despite her own sudden expansion to what most girls would consider extremely large breasts, as she spoke Elizabeth kept her slightly shocked gaze fixed firmly on the monstrous twin watermelons Lisa carried.
They went upstairs to freshen up and change their clothes, and get Lisa out of her corset-like travel brassiere. Soon after their arrival, they all met together, sitting around the dining room table – Professor Bohm and his assistant Elizabeth, in addition to Lisa and Gunther.
Gunther inquired about the whereabouts of Milena,which Lisa had deliberately avoided bringing up.
"Milena is sorry, but she has to remain upstairs in her room; she had a very busy day today. She hopes to see you tomorrow morning," the professor said.
"So … tell us about the progress of our experiments," Gunther demanded.
"We started, shortly after your departure, the second phase. We have made some changes to the medical protocol, so to speak, and the results are very encouraging."
"Meaning?" asked Lisa.
"Well, there was a considerable development of breast tissue, I must say very well proportioned, in addition to a marked increase in her milk production. The bulk of her growth, of necessity, has been breastfat … a substantial amount of fat, for cushioning and to allow expansion … " He turned his gaze to Elizabeth.
"Elizabeth, whom you both met at the University, has agreed to undergo a course of treatment, in parallel with the main experiment, and by now we can say there are no untoward side effects at all ... am I right, Fraulein Neufeld?"
"No, no, I feel fine." She looked down at her plate, with a nervous smile that concealed embarrassment. "Apart from the fact that my boyfriend never takes his hands off me ..."
"There can also be beneficial side effects to experiments, Fraulein. The history of medical research is full of examples in which the manifestation of side effects was more important to the outcome of the research, than the experiment itself."
Dr. Bohm was evidently in a good mood that night, and continued to entertain the guests with jokes; it seemed that veterinary examination sessions were an inexhaustible source of anecdotes.
Lisa just listened, relaxed by the atmosphere, glad to be out of her travel harness, and pleased by the girl Elizabeth's continual glances at her huge breasts.
I bet she really started to enjoy her boyfriend's attentions, she thought. Give a girl a little size, and men fall all over her. With two big, fat titties like mine she could reduce him to mindless obedience in a week.
The evening came to an end, amidst general merriment.
"I must go," said Elizabeth, suddenly looking at her wristwatch, “it’s really late."
"If you want to stay and sleep here, you just tell me and I’ll have a room prepared," Gunther said in a cordial manner.
"Thanks, I prefer to go home. I need to get a solid night of sleep, Herr Doctor Bohm says. Not so much as … well,” she let her words trail off, suddenly flustered. “Well. See you tomorrow morning."
"I'll escort her to the car," Lisa spoke up. They went out together to the cool of the outside, talking about the evening.
"Cigarette?"
"Yes, thank you."
They stayed there, leaning on the assistant's car. Lisa took a deep drag on the cigarette, her face intermittently illuminated by the glow of the embers.
"So what's it like?" she said suddenly.
"It …what?"
"Well, all of a sudden you have breasts, so ... I mean ..." she stopped as if searching for words.
"You know, I was barely thirteen when my tits grew so fast like that, so I didn't have much perspective on what was happening ...."
"Oh ... they're nothing much, compared to what you have. But I never thought my boyfriend would react this way. I swear, he is constantly drooling over me. It’s even becoming a problem ... "
She looked at Lisa and continued.
"I think if he came face-to-face with someone the size of you, he could literally have a heart attack ..."
"And when he touches you ... you like it?"
Elizabeth smiled. "You know, before ... we had some trouble understanding each other ... Now, my boobs have become hyper-sensitive, sometimes he just jiggles me around, gets a big fat tit bouncing the right way, and ... "
"And ...?"
"Well, I like it, almost to the point of having an orgasm."
"I see ...” In fact, Lisa didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand, because no man had ever touched her like that. She looked off into the distance, lost in the sparse lights of the houses in the dark fields.
"It's cool, maybe I should go back inside."
The two said good night to each other warmly, three kisses cheek to cheek, leaning forward. Then Lisa went back into the house.

Chapter Thirteen

2011-02-01T15:20:00.000+01:00

The house was empty; apparently everyone had already gone to bed. Lisa climbed the stairs, walking silently to her room. She halted at the landing, noticing the room down the corridor – under the door a thin sliver of light showed. She went to her own room and was about to turn the knob when she stopped and stood motionless, her senses trying to decipher a barely-audible sound. It was a kind of intermittent buzzing, coming from Milena’s room. She felt her curiosity grow; she knew she could not sleep without finding out what the almost-sound was. So she walked down to the other room, turned the knob, and slowly opened the door.
"Hello, Lisa. I was waiting for you."
hint of a smile, her left eyebrow arched ... Milena was lying down in bed, supported by several soft pillows that propped her up in a semi-reclining position with her lustrous dark hair just touching the headboard.
Lisa was paralyzed by the vision lying before her, sprawled and immobile. Her two gigantic breasts, so freakishly oversized were overflowing from her chest, and easily overlapping her arms where the limbs lay next to her sides. But the monstrous mammaries were not flattened as they lay on her, but were bulging up from her chest, giving the impression of extreme fullness. The enormous masses were shot through with a network of blueish veins, just beneath the translucent skin, and thicker, darker blood vessels were hinted at deeper inside the glands. The huge dark-brown areolae were visible under twin glass bowls somehow attached to the front of Milena's breasts, each bowl with several tubes connected to an apparatus placed next to the bed. The sound, audible now as an underlying throb and a gentle accompanying hiss, came from the apparatus – some kind of powerful vacuum pump, which was alternately exhausting air from the bowls and letting some back in, the emptying of air causing, rhythmically, a hypnotic stretch-and-relax of the giant nipples.
"Come in."
Lisa took a few steps toward her, timidly, almost fearfully. Her mouth was open in amazement.
"You ... you ..."
"Yes?"
"You ... you are … you're immense!"
Milena laughed, amused. She did not move, lying completely still and tilting her head and pursing her lips.
"Yes, I think that is the right word. I am immense. Or I am huge, colossal, gigantic ... "
She pulled her right arm from under the breast on that side, and held out her hand.
"Come, don’t be afraid. It's just one of my three daily milking sessions, but I'm almost finished." After she finished speaking, she flicked a switch on a handset and turned off the machine. The hum ceased instantly. The silence was then filled with the typical popping noise of a vacuum-seal being broken, as she pulled first one bowl and then the other from her behemoth mammaries. Although freed from the industrial-grade pump now, her nipples were still turgid and erect from their extensive period under suction..
Lisa slowly walked over, then sat on the bed beside the woman.
She was unable to take her eyes off her, and Milena, smiling continuously, seemed to enjoy the intense scrutiny. All of a sudden Lisa's own famous huge breasts seemed small in the presence of those two mountains. She noticed, on the table beside the bed, two large glass canisters filled with shimmering, pale liquid.
"Today I gave three gallons of milk," Milena said casually. “It's very hard work – quite demanding, physically.”
“I may need these gigantic udders to produce the milk, but my body needs a lot of food to make it. So I have to eat enough to produce three gallons – over twenty-five pounds of milk a day. And the water! I drink five or six gallons, not just the liquid component of the milk, but the … the …paugh, ask Bohm. Digesting the food, processing it into milk, the body needs a lot of water to carry out the process. So I eat. And eat, and eat, and eat. And I have this big belly to hold it all.” She rested both palms on the swell of her round stomach, and smiled smugly.
Lisa could not believe what she was seeing - this was like she was living in a strange dream; she heard herself say: "And … What do you do, with all that milk ...?"
"We’ll have breakfast tomorrow morning!"
Milena began to laugh out loud; she was delighted at Lisa's embarrassment, it was amusing her. She went on laughing almost to tears, her gross breasts quaking with her movements. Then, when she regained control of herself, looking intensely into Lisa's eyes, she took one huge nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeezed.
A long spurt of hot milk splashed Lisa’s cheek. Milena moved her eyes from the blonde's face to her own enormous naked mammaries, as if inviting her to come to them; fearfully, Lisa bent over and nuzzled her cheek against the mountain of flesh lying along Milena's right side.
She opened her mouth, pulled the whole swollen nipple into her mouth, and started sucking. The milk came out instantly, going down her throat as she instinctively swallowed; the sweet taste was one of the best experiences she had ever felt, so intense and intoxicating. She sucked more vigorously, and while sucking she felt a strange excitement - growing chills down her spine, tremors in her legs. She began to caress Milena’s elephantine breast with both hands, following the broad contours, feeling the weight, and then lifted it gently, bringing it to her face. While sucking, she looked up and met the intense gaze of Milena. She was biting her lower lip, still smiling, with a strange expression of satisfaction. "Suck, Lisa, suck ..." and Lisa sucked even harder, feeling the liquid streams trickling from her mouth and down her chin. Lisa's head was spinning with excitement, she was drunk on the bliss of that warm, liquid sustenance.
Then, suddenly, Milena grabbed her by the hair, and forcefully pulled her greedy mouth away from the giant milkbag.
"You were nasty to me, the last time we met ..."
Lisa felt the accusation like a punch in the stomach. God, she thought to herself, don’t make me stop, don’t make me stop ... She began to caress and kiss the woman's huge areolae, nibbling at the near one and running her fingers over the milk-slicked rough surface of the other.
"Forgive me, Milena! I was stupid and arrogant, but you must forgive me." She felt the excitement between her legs; her vagina was now completely wet.
"I’ll forgive, if you’ll deserve to be forgiven ..." And after saying that, both hands still holding her hair tightly, she gently pushed Lisa's face against her belly and then down further, between her thighs. Lisa felt the smell of the woman's sex literally go into her brain; she began to lick, at first slowly and then more and more frantically, trying to push her tongue in as deep as possible. Then she gently took the swollen clit between her lips and licked it slowly, with a pleasure like none she had ever known before, heightened by the moans of satisfaction coming from the cow. She glanced up now and then, as if looking for approval, all the while Milena saying: "Good ... don't stop ..." and squeezing her head between her soft, thick thighs, almost forcing her to stay down there.
But Lisa didn’t want to stop at all; her body was moving in an uncontrolled frenzy, shaking with tremors of pleasure, until a hot and sour liquid spurted into and filled her mouth. At the same time she reached a stunning climax - the best orgasm of her life.
Hugging Milena's buttocks with both arms, her head resting on the woman's round dome of stomach, she was pervaded by a sense of inner peace she had never experienced before.
They lay there like that silently for an indefinite, dreamy time; then Lisa looked up. Milena lay still, eyes closed and face slack, like she was exhausted and asleep. The turgid nipples were still dripping steadily, drops falling to slide down the flanks of those gigantically overdeveloped breasts. Lisa started to get off the bed, and almost fell to the floor. Her legs were weak; it took a bit of effort to find her balance.
When she got to the door, she turned around. Milena had awakened, and was watching her intently.
"You were good, but you can do much better. I'll wait for you, tomorrow evening at the same time."

Lisa jumped into bed in her room, in a state of total confusion. She had just lived the best sexual experience of her life - actually, perhaps the only real sexual experience of her life. She had never felt a pleasure so intense, a feeling so strong. Her body was still seized with powerful shudders even at the thought.
Yet she knew all this was irrational. In her modeling career, she had staged enactments like this hundreds of times - pretended lesbian relationships with other girls. Sometimes she even felt pleasure, but always in a controlled way. She understood that her pleasure derived mainly from the flattery and obsequious admiration that other women always gave her, particularly those with the very biggest breasts who had walked in and seen their pretensions deflated at the first comparison with her own enormous, pendulous blimp-tits. Lisa had entirely rational grounds for her previous mild pleasure – purely the satisfaction of her own ego.
Nothing like that, had happened this night. The first moment she saw Milena, she wanted to touch her, kiss her, suck these amazingly swollen breasts ... the feel of that first drop of milk on her tongue sent her completely out of control and into a state of ecstasy, losing all track of time and place. She had been completely possessed with carnal attraction. All her senses were attuned to the pleasure of that moment.
In addition to all the sensations she felt - looking at her, touching, smelling, licking - she thought of Milena’s husky voice, telling her not to stop, and she realized that even just the memory of that voice and that desire, was giving her more pleasure than anything she had experienced until then.
There was no explanation for any of it ... except that Lisa had fallen deeply in love with Milena.
She found herself, as she was finally falling asleep, counting the minutes that separated her from their next meeting.

Chapter Fourteen

2011-01-31T16:50:00.000+01:00

The next morning Lisa awoke on the bed, where she had thrown herself the night before – too agitated to get under the bed-covers. The rays of the sun were coming in between the open window curtains, announcing a wonderful day. Lisa woke up and staggered into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror - tousled hair and make-up smeared - and smiled; she still had the remains of mother's-milk caked on her face.
While showering, she could not stop thinking about the previous night, and she felt a strange excitement growing inside her. It had happened, and would happen again that night, and again and again ... or maybe it wouldn't? For the first time since her teens, she felt very happy but also confused and helpless.
She went downstairs, torn by these contrasting moods, secretly hoping to walk into the kitchen and find Milena there to welcome her.
Instead the kitchen was empty, the table prepared for breakfast, the morning papers still perfectly folded; it seemed that no one had woken up yet. She looked at the clock on the wall – eleven-fifteen - and at the same time, in the distance, she heard the sound of church bells. She suddenly realized that it was Sunday.
"May I come in?" With a slight tap of knuckles on the jamb of the open door, Professor Bohm came in, smiling at her.
"Hi, Fraulein Lisa, may I?" And with that, he sat down at the table in front of the girl.
"Hello. I thought you didn't work on Sundays."
"As a matter of fact, I am not working. I'm cultivating my passions." He said this with a wry smile that, for no reason she could identify, irritated Lisa.
"And what are your passions, if I may ask?”
"I also enjoy traveling, reading, eating well. But nothing thrills me like seeing our work grow to fruition ... "
"You mean ... Milena?”
"I mean the project we have undertaken, thanks to your support and to Gunther. Milena is only a part of the whole."
"And ... how is Milena now? I don’t see her downstairs this morning."
The doctor looked at her, his eyes sharp behind the lenses, that disconcerting light smile continuously directed at her.
"Milena is quite well," he finally said. "The various therapies we have designed for her, occupy her almost constantly - especially the regimen involving mechanical stimulation. Honestly, I have to say that she is an extraordinary girl, who made a courageous choice and still remains very committed to the success of our project. The results achieved so far are exceeding all expectations, thanks to her."
"And what are those results, if I may?" Lisa asked, feigning disinterest.
"The subject's breasts have responded well to the hormone therapy. Her circumference – her bust measurement, if you will - is seventy-two inches in an upright position, and despite such a dramatic increase in size, the blood flow is quite good, the increase in breast tissue is proceeding hand in hand with the critical vascularization ...” His smile broadened a little at her blank stare. “Undoubtedly the most important factor in healthy and substantial growth - increasing the network of arteries and superficial veins, feeding blood to the new tissue. And of course, critical to truly massive and sustained growth, our Milena is developing very substantial and uniformly distributed deposits of fat throughout the entire mammary structure. For proper functioning,” he elaborated, “the milk ducts and canals, the blood circulatory system, and the lactation glands themselves, cannot be crammed together in close proximity to each other. They require spacing, for the ducts and canals to channel the milk, and a flexible, resilient tissue framework – cushioning, if you will - in which they are embedded. The glands must be surrounded by soft material which will yield easily and allow them to expand, don't you see?” He peered at her over the rims of his glasses, happily lecturing; the new pupil nodded dazedly, half-understanding.
“Thus the substantial growth of breastfat! So, despite her rapid growth, Milena is quite comfortable, the breasts soft and with a truly amazing texture and elasticity. In addition, her milk production has increased to twelve liters. Daily." He looked at the girl, carefully weighing the effect of his words.
"Of course, you will understand that many everyday activities, even simply walking, can become difficult for a woman in such a condition."
Lisa was stunned by the scientific coldness with which Professor Bohm was talking about a human being. She wanted to respond heatedly, speaking of the warmth of that body the night before, the soft feel of those enormous breasts, the heavenly taste of the milk spurting from Milena’s nipples …
"Ah! More milk?" said the doctor, taking the glass bottle on the table and leaning toward her. Lisa looked at him strangely, and then nodded her head.
"But I didn’t stop by to talk about Milena. I wanted to talk about you, Fraulein Lisa."
She was enjoying the milk, with half-closed eyes, trying to remember that particular flavor she had tasted the night before. This seemed, in every way, to be cow's milk.
"I ... what?"
"I wanted to talk about the therapy which you will be undergoing. I think we can proceed quite readily, also because of the results we've gotten with my assistant, Elizabeth."
She had completely forgotten about this aspect of the affair, her own mammaries, and her burning desire to make her bosom grow even more, to become more abundant than she already was.
"Tell me," she managed to say.
"I thought we should start tomorrow - with the hormone and drug treatments, let’s say. First, in the morning, we will proceed to the routine tests, so please refrain from a heavy breakfast like this one you are having. Later I'll do a medical examination to check your general health and more particularly your breasts' health .... "
"I don’t think this is possible, sir ..." The doctor was silent, waiting for the girl to go on. Then, after a while: "Would you please explain?"
Lisa spoke with lowered eyes.
"I cannot be touched by any man." She said it to the doctor, but also to herself, and she heard those two words she had just said, “no man”, in a completely new way.
No man. The irresistible attraction she felt for Milena, the sexual arousal she experienced, it seemed that all of a sudden everything made sense. Dr. Bohm's voice brought her back to reality.
"I understand your ... modesty."
No, you really don’t understand anything, Lisa thought.
"I think the problem can be easily overcome, if you want. Elizabeth can visit you this afternoon; she’ll be here in a few moments to complete some laboratory tests. If everything is alright, as I'm sure it will be, we can safely start our treatments. See you tomorrow, then."
He walked out of the kitchen with a brisk step. Lisa heard the car starting up, and the engine noise fading away down the hill. She stood in absolute silence. The day outside was fantastic; she had to do something, anything, to distract herself from those thoughts she couldn't get out of her mind. She took her cell phone and dialed Gunther; he answered after a few rings.
"Hello, Lisa. Everything alright there at home?"
"Everything’s fine, thank you. Gunther, do you have a horse here by chance? ‘Cos I do need a horse now."
That made the man smile – typical Lisa, once again thinking of what she herself needed.
"There's a neighbor who has a riding stable - I’ll call him and see what I can do."
Lisa knew that the horse would soon appear as if by magic; it was almost a certainty.

She had a cup of hot coffee in her hands and was about to sit down on the couch, when she heard, echoing from the lobby, the characteristic sound of heels on a woman with a too-tight skirt. Elizabeth appeared, in fact, in a cream-colored suit with a leather bag under her arm.
"Hello, Lisa. I don’t want to disturb you." The girl motioned with her hand.
"I was heading to the laboratory, and the doctor called, asking if I could … ehm … examine you ... But if you want to do it later ..."
"No, no, it’s fine with me. I'm going out riding in a while, so if we can do it now ... "
"Okay, follow me to the lab, then."
She made her way briskly up to the laboratory,which Lisa had walked through briefly on the first day she had seen the villa. The sun, coming through the large windows, was spreading a warm light all around the room.
"You are a young woman, in an excellent state of health for sure, so I’ll save you the usual questions about childhood illnesses, and so on ... and so on ..."
As she started speaking, she took off her jacket and put on a white coat. Very professional, thought Lisa.
"Could you undress ...?"
For Lisa that meant fun, mainly because she could sense the young assistant's slight hint of embarrassment as she pronounced those three words. So she put on an excessively mischievous look; loosened her jeans skirt, letting it fall to the ground; turned her back and began slowly to unbutton her blouse, from the top to the bottom. This too fell at her feet, slipping down her tanned back. With all that remained her mundane white bra and panties, she looked over her shoulder and asked, "Should I continue?"
Elizabeth stood stock-still behind her, mouth open in astonishment. She had never seen a bra like that. The bandeau so wide that it took up most of the girl's back, the wide padded straps, the cups of ridiculous dimensions – and even at that size, every part of the tent-like brassiere seemed stretched to the maximum, in an effort to contain her freakishly huge breasts. When she got over her startlement and it penetrated that Lisa had asked her a question, she replied: "Yes, please"; then she blushed slightly, perhaps thinking that this exact wording was not very professional.
Lisa turned to face the flustered assistant, and began to unfasten the bra; she reached both hands behind her back, and put on a look of concentration – getting her out of the suspension-bridge bra was serious work. It took a while to undo all the hooks, and involved tugging and pulling as the tremendous weight of Lisa's fat breasts kept the closures straining taut. Eventually the bra fell to the ground too, and it was apparent that the purpose of a Lisa-brassiere was not so much to support her bosom, but to confine and stabilize the colossal mounds of flesh as they hung against her ribcage and stomach. When she shrugged the wide straps off her shoulders, her watermelon-big breasts seemed just to relax, lying massively down her sides. They were still round and full, large areolae turned towards Elizabeth like bright pink spotlights.
"I ... I must take some measurements ... you know … just to have a baseline for evaluating your growth ..."
Lisa was more and more amused by the situation.
Elizabeth measured her off with a special long tape, starting at her hips, then finally up to her waist and breasts.
"42 ... 26 ... 58 ..." She could not restrain an expression of surprised delight.
"Wow, you're amazing! A fifty-eight-inch bust!"
Lisa laughed and replied, "Thank you. And what about you?" She took the tape out of the assistant's hand.
"Raise your arms ..."
"But ... I do not ..."
"Let's see ... 38, 22, bust 42. My God, you're a bird!" Elizabeth, her face blushing scarlet, tried to keep herself composed.
"Well, among my girlfriends, now I’m considered a phenomenon. Sorry, I have to make a quick examination of your tissue ... "
"You have to palpate me, I understand."
Elizabeth hesitated. She put her hands under Lisa’s breasts, and tried to lift slightly, as if to weigh them; Lisa, who knew what was going to happen from experiences with other women exploring her body, kept a straight face as the girl looked bewildered and then astonished - the incredibly heavy breasts did not budge, and when Elizabeth lifted with as much strength as she had, it was a struggle for her to just get the blimp-like pendulosities away from her chest. “Did you ever dream that any woman could grow titties that weighed this much?” Lisa said conversationally. The contact with cold fingers hardened her nipples, and Lisa looked pleased.
"You like them?" she asked with a coquettish smile.
Elizabeth swallowed hard, and nodded her head.
Lisa, who was leaning with her buttocks against a high laboratory table, put her hands on the table and sat there, with a little hop up. The huge tits jumped in front of the wide-eyed young doctoress. Then, in a low, throaty voice, Lisa said, "Lick them."
"What ...?"
"You heard me. Lick them."
Elizabeth hesitated, then, bending, put her mouth on the left nipple; then she started swirling her tongue slowly around the nipple, and pulling it back, glancing up to see what effect this technique had on the woman.
It was then that they heard the voice of someone coming through the open door.
"Ah, look. You work Sundays here, too. Our young doctoress is putting in some overtime hours."
Milena, who had stopped in the doorway to catch her breath and support herself by leaning against the wall, was approaching them, at the slow pace that was the best she could manage now, face flushed as she struggled to walk over to them. Lisa felt her stomach tighten in admiration – the brunette's gait was ponderous, the undulating movement of those mammoth tits almost hypnotic as she lumbered unsteadily towards the other two women. She wore a flowing gown of silk satin, and under that, one would guess, nothing else - the outline of her two big nipples stood out clearly under the fabric.
Lisa felt lost, almost fixed to the spot by Milena's harsh gaze.
Elizabeth tried to break the tension.
"I was examinat … examining Lisa, in preparation for starting treatments tomorrow ..."
"Of course, little baby. I just saw your method with patients.” Milena had wobbled to a halt in front of them, and looked from one to the other as she caught her breath. “Indeed, with my experience, I can give you some help, too... "
She steadied herself with a hand on the table, and then reached out her other hand to Lisa's big bare breasts, caressing their bulging sides and squeezing the soft pillows of tit, then grabbed a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed hard. Lisa closed her eyes and felt an electric shock down her spine, from the neck all the way down to her legs. She felt tears come to her eyes, welling up and coursing down her cheeks. When she opened her eyes, she saw Milena above her, looking satisfied.
"Little Lisa, you know we have an agreement, you and me. Do not disappoint me." She turned back and walked toward the door. Then, pausing to steady herself against the frame, with a slightly higher tone, she said, without looking back: "First duty, then pleasure, my dears."
The two girls stood there motionless, shocked by what had just happened.

Chapter Fifteen

2011-01-30T17:23:00.000+01:00

The horse was waiting outside the villa, already saddled and ready for the ride. The groom, a young boy in his early teens, was holding the reins; he widened his eyes when he saw Lisa coming down the stairs.
“Do…do… do you need help, Miss?" Lisa didn’t know if the boy was stutterer, or if that was the effect of her sight, but at that moment she didn’t care. She acted just like she didn’t ever noticed him: he would have probably ran away to masturbate, just a moment after she had left: so she mounted up to the saddle and spurred the animal, that began to trot slowly along the dirt road leading down to the lake.
After what had happened in the laboratory, Lisa had run upstairs in her room, leaving Elizabeth to her tubes: she needed pills, not an horseback riding. The nipple was hurting as hell, and the areolas had taken on a bluish tinge. The fact that Milena had caught her in that attitude made her feel terrible: then, physical discomfort turned into real anger at herself, for having behaved so stupidly. It weighed the humiliation, but in her heart she feared even more that something had changed between her and Milena; she feared that that woman, who had completely bewitched her, could denie herself, leaving her outside her locked door. Two days: two days had been enough to make her loose control over her life: her happiness, even her destiny, were in the hands of another person, for the first time in her existence.
Yet at the same time, that gesture of Milena, that caused her pain squeezing the nipple, had also brought a shiver of pleasure to Lisa. It was as to affix a seal on her property, and to establish the fact that her body belonged to her, and to nobody else.
And basically, at that moment, she wanted nothing but that: to belong entirely to that beautiful creature.
My God, what a mess - she thought to herself.
The sun was setting down in the distance and the air had become cooler. She returned to the house, with her horse slowly riding up the hill.

Gunther saw her coming in and running in a hurry towards the upstairs.
"Hello Lisa. I ordered a fabulous dinner for this evening: all traditional Brandenburg cooking: you got to taste that stuff. Is it okay for nine o clock? "
She stopped just at the top of the stairs. "Gunther, my dear, sorry but I am very tired and I think I'll go to sleep early. Would you make them bring it up to my room, please? Thank you. "
Gunther was about to reply, but stood there, hands raised and mouth open. Lisa had already gone to her room. The dinner for two would have been an opportunity to discuss their future plans. He had spent the entire day with a web designer in Berlin, and his plan for a completely new site, was growing up: new graphics, new services, interactivity: it would have been something completely different moreover, that already existed in the network. His idea was not to create a simple website, but a precise location; a virtual place, yes, but well defined in space and time. A kind of mediatic home of plasures, where the customers could move, as if to perceive they were belonging there. It would have been different from all the rest even for a unique feature: it had to be, or appear to be, absolutely inaccessible. No banners, no free tour, no millions hits per week. A closed house, literally, for the prying eyes of occasional passers. It would have been the equivalent of a very elite private club, whose access would have been considered a real privilege.
On the other hand only that afternoon she saw for the first time Milena in her astonishing majesty and, for heaven’s sake, he would have bet the whole house: a lot of people were ready to bleed, just to see her on a fifteen inches screen.
In his projects Milena was the first of a series of models, specially "trained" for the new site, a host of beautiful, naturally gifted girls as never seen anywhere else: he had already done some ads in search of pregnant girls and had to start in a few days with the first job interviews.
He went into the living room, saw the table already set, and an infinite sadness came upon him: fuck the Brandenburg cuisine, he thought; he didn’t feel to eat there in solitude. So he gave instructions to the staff to bring the meal to Lisa upstairs, went out and took his car, direction Berlin.
Lisa was definitely a good fork: seeing her at the table you would wonder how she, although she had such an appetite could keep her body in such a perfect shape. described as enviable. She was attacking the dishes in an almost animalistic way, absolutely far from any good manner: to eat that way, with her hands while comfortably lying on the bed, was for her a real delicious must.
Brandenburg cuisine or not, while she was lying down watching TV, she devoured everything in an hungryly way, with an energy due, she knews, especially to the growing nervousness she was feeling. At the end of all that she sat on the bed, hugging her legs and squeezing the chest. Sh was wearing, as always when going to bed, the jacket of a man's pajamas.
Every so often she muted the TV and tended the senses: the intermittent buzz of the night before was continuing undaunted. When, around midnight, she heard it stopping, her heart began to beat faster. She waited in the silence of her room, and every minute that passed seemed to her an unbearable torture. Finally she encouraged herself got out of bed, barefoot. She slowly opened the door and peered into the corridor: no one around.
She took the few steps that separated her from the room aside and, without knocking, turned the knob and entered. The large bed full of pillows was empty.
"I ... Milena?" She said haltingly. She was terrified from the possible reaction that the other girl could have. Instead, she heard one voice, coming from somewhere in the darkness of the room. The tone was resolute, not friendly at all.
"Jump on the bed and undressed."
Lisa obeyed silently: took off her jacket uncovering her huge breasts, and layed on her back, gazing at the bathroom door. When opened, the light outlined the figure of Milena, standing on the door jamb. She felt her heart stopping.
She was still wearing the satin gown of that morning, tied at the waist with a belt: you could see the neckline, and the deep gulf between the two giant breasts. In backlight her body moved, swaying slowly as she approached to her: she rested at the bedside, put a knee on that and then, not without any effort, rotated the other leg, moving above her and sitting on Lisa’s belly. From that perspective, Lisa saw her towering above her, the huge mammary glands that completely hung over her: she felt her strong thighs shake her hips and felt, just for that, to be completely wet.
"So, you like playing with girls, Lisa?"
Lisa found the strength to answer.
"Milena I’m sorry, so sorry ... it will not happen again ..."
She looked at her intently, with a freezy gaze.
"It 's the second time you apologize in just two days. There won’t be a third time. She was licking you nipples, that bitch, right? "
Y. .. Yes .."
"Let’s see then, if you are good at it ..." and while saying this, she slipped hers right hand into the neckline of her gown, and moving the flap with the left, gradually pulled outher giant breas. The meat, the soft flesh coming out of the gown seemed endless. She did the same with the other boob, then began to massage them, with large circular movements of her open hands. She wasn’t looking down at Lisa: she had her eyes closed, as if looking for the merger. She pinched her nipples, pulled them gently, and then began to squeeze: the milk began to come out, and a copious rain drops began to fall on Lisa’s face and hair: the girl, Lisa opened her mouth and instinctively stuck out her tongue, as if to collect that nectar: at the same time Milena had begun to move his pelvis gently back and forth: her hot pussy was rubbing on Lisa’s belly, making her go into raptures.
"My God, my god ... please do not stop ..."
"I’m the one who’s supposed to enjoy it, baby ..." and after saying so, Milena advanced on the girl's body and, resting her hands on the bed , leaned forward. Lisa saw submerged by her huge pendulous breasts, leaning on her: she caressed them, guessing by the touch the veins in relief; then she grabbed one with two hands and began to suck it frantically. She felt unable even to breathe down there: the gaping mouth and the milk that went out anywhere, but nevertheless she went on, panting and swallowing all of the time. She was sure to experience a continuous orgasm: her thighs, her buttocks her vagina, were completely soaked. Milena, from above, looked amused. She had full control of the situation, and when she saw Lisa completely abandoned to pleasure, clutching the headboard she rose painfully to her feet on the bed. Lisa opened her eyes and saw Milena loomig above her, with her legs apart and the vulva which was getting closer to her face. Milena sat on her, tightening her head between her thighs, the immense breasts pressed against the headboard the brass bed.
"Now, you have to make me come, baby."
Lisa dug her nails into her buttocks, and with her tongue began to lick her pussy: she was feeling the full weight of that incredible body on herself, but even so, at the slightest whimper of delight coming out from Milena’s mouth, she felt a shock down her spine. Its flavor, the liquid that flowed down her throat, she felt it a thousand times more delicious than anything she had ever tasted.
Milena felt the excitement began to grow and moved the belly back and forth, looking for the tongue of Lisa: with her hands gripping the headboard, now she was banging rhythmically the huge breasts against it, squirting milk everywhere.
Finally, she reached the peak of orgasm, her back arched backwards and she fell back on the bed. Lisa, with her hands between her legs turned to the side, biting the pillow, with her entire body shaken by chills.
When she opened her eyes Milena was watching her, naked and magnificent, lying on her side with the gigantic breasts overflowing on the sheets.
"You were good tonight." – She said with her particular hoarse voice.
"I think we could become good friends."
Lisa seemed to touch the sky with a finger. She smiled and thanked her, lowering her eyes.
"Don’t thank me, you silly girl. Kiss me."

Chapter Sixteen

2011-01-29T09:54:00.000+01:00

Lisa woke up early, full of excitement - an emotion she had not felt in a long time, really not since she was a small child about to leave for the holidays. She called Gunther early in the morning, asking if he could arrange for two horses as soon as possible.
"Do you think I'm going to take up riding at my age?"
"No, no! It’s for Milena. We’ll take a ride down to the lake." The man stayed sunk in silence for a while.
"I don’t think that Dr. Bohm would agree. She must continue the treatment she has started - you know that her drug and therapy regimens have to be followed ... "
"I honestly don’t care about programs or about Dr. Bohm - just today, we're taking a vacation, and we'll get back to work tomorrow. Okay?”
Naturally, Gunther knew that if Lisa decided on something, there was no way to change her mind. Rather, he was wondering what Milena thought about it all ... and why ...
The stable-hand was sitting on the back of a bench near the villa; with a cigarette dangling from his lips, he was fiddling with his cell phone. Behind him, on the lawn, the two horses were quietly grazing.
He was thinking he absolutely had to get a picture of that woman he had seen the day before. None of his friends had believed him, when he told them that he had been face to face with a girl who was ... at least ... a double-P rack?
He certainly was not prepared for what he saw that morning, when the door of the house opened.
Lisa came out in boots, jeans and flowered shirt, and her appearance alone caused a violent reaction in his groin; and then, behind her, appeared a woman of unimaginable proportions. Her wide hips were blatantly outlined in tight jodhpurs; even if they looked abundant when compared to Lisa's hips, they disappeared in comparison with the gigantic breasts contained in a white blouse stretched to its maximum capacity. The two women paused in the doorway, the incredibly-large woman steadied herself against the frame, and they slowly and deliberately descended the short staircase, looking to the sides around their vast frontages so they could see the steps. Even the few steps set their mammoth bosoms bobbing ponderously. Milena was laughing delightedly.
"When I said I never mounted a beast ... I meant a horse!"
"Well, then you will realize that with real animals, it's much easier ..."
The boy's jaw dropped, and he stood open-mouthed like a complete simpleton.
Lisa, with practiced ease in handling horses, went to the bay she'd ridden the previous day, took the reins, and gently caressed his muzzle.
"These horses are accustomed to Sunday tourists, don’t worry." She had brought saddlebags, and as she talked to the animal she secured the bag and then turned to the groom.
"So, aren’t you supposed to help a woman get on a horse?" And she gestured with her chin in the direction of Milena.
The boy seemed embalmed; after a few seconds he realized she was talking to him, and, tentatively, he went to the horse.
"Y ... yes... you must put your left foot here, there ... in the stirrup."
Milena couldn’t stop laughing. She put her boot in the stirrup, took the reins and clung to the pommel of the saddle. Then, with a deliberately staid tone: "Do you mind giving me a little nudge from behind, young man?"
The boy looked at his hands, as if undecided where to put them; then, bending over, put his left palm under the thigh of Milena, his right hand on her hefty buttock, and, at her hop, pushed upward. The woman threw her right leg over the animal and settled herself easily.
"Now what? Up until now, I've only seen this in the movies ..."
Lisa was already on her horse and was looking at her with an open smile.
"Well, now you have to tighten your thighs on its flanks, make it know you are there, just sit back a little."
"Okay, so far so good ..."
"Now you do like me, give it a tap with the bridle on its neck and try to get your body in rhythm with its steps."
"Wow, it works!"
The two horses had fallen into position by themselves, side by side, and they walked slowly down the dirt road leading to the lake.
The boy was standing there, stunned; with his mouth open, he looked at them disappear into the trees.
He noticed the phone resting on the bench and thought himself a perfect idiot.

The two horses slow-jogged down toward the lake, picking up the pace a little to the most vigorous gait that the women's too-heavy breasts could tolerate. On the lake path, Lisa slowed back to a walk, drawing a gasp of relief from Milena – even the gentle jog had set her milk-heavy tubs of flesh into uncomfortable jarring back and forth. Now, back to a walk, she sighed and enjoyed feeling the great weight of her breasts hanging from her shoulders and swaying slightly but ponderously to the horse's gait. The sun shone high in the branches, casting patches of light on the undergrowth, from which rose a strong scent of musk and resins. Everything around them was perfect in its simplicity - the wind in the leaves, the chirping of sparrows, the hooves on dirt. Milena sighed once more, happily, at the bucolic scene, and gloried in suddenly having become - been made, by Bohm's process - part of nature herself – a prize cow, placidly wandering through the fields, udders bursting with rich milk. Milena would have sworn she could actually feel herself stretching, her breasts swollen even larger and sagging even lower with their great load of milk.
The two women talked continuously, like girls at school.
"I ran away from home at sixteen," Milena was saying.
"I had taken so many beatings from my father that any alternative seemed better. So I arrived in Berlin and I stayed two years in a community center. And in the end, that was much worse. A lot of untermenschen idiots that basically thought of you like underwear - every now and then one of them remembered you had a pussy and jumped on you, without even asking."
Lisa was silent, her eyes fixed on the horse's mane.
"And then?" she said.
"Then one day, while I was walking around Berlin, a guy who could have been my father stopped me. He said he was looking for a barmaid for his club, and that I looked like I'd fit. Okay, I say. He takes me to Hamburg, and after I worked there for a few days, he slaps me and puts his fucking hands on me. That's something that I just can’t stand, not since what I put up with from my father. So I break a glass on his head and run away."
"Wow," Lisa interjected, looking at her.
"Uh-huh. I ended up in this nightclub, where I got to know Gunther. I worked for him for nearly five years, first as a bartender and then as a dancer. After that, I fell for a fool who carted me all around Germany for six years, before I gave up on the dancing."
"And now ... you're married?"
"Are you kidding? Of course not! I have a son, yes, but his father has never seen him. He didn’t even deign to admit to being the father, that asshole - he ran a week after I told him I was pregnant ... "
Lisa was listening with her head down. "I'm sorry. You can’t say that you've been lucky with men."
Milena looked at her with a smile, eyebrow arched in her typical expression. "Yeah. Maybe they’re not the kind for me ... "
Lisa looked up and smiled back.
"And what about you, with men?" Milena asked abruptly.
"What ... me?"
"Yes, you - don’t you have a man, a boyfriend ..."
"No, I can’t have any men." Hearing that, Milena looked at her curiously.
"You can’t have any men? You can have any man you want. You're one of the most famous models on the entire Web. If you just whistled, men would run here from everywhere."
"Yes, I know that, but I mean ... I can’t have them because they can’t touch me ..."
"What in the world do you mean?"
Lisa began to tell the story, first hesitantly and then more confidently, as she had done years before with Gunther. In the end, as when she first recounted what had happened to her, she felt better.
Milena concluded - "Well, so the two of us have found out - we know for sure that men are good for nothing. Could this be a coincidence?"
Lisa laughed, white teeth showing between her lips.
And Milena saw her for a moment as she should have been, a young girl fifteen years old.
"Well,” she said abruptly, “It's very nice to ride a real animal, but right now my butt thinks differently. And these tits weigh a ton. How about we stop somewhere?"
They had traced a path along the lake shore for a long way; now following a trail that climbed the hill, they reached a small clearing, where the thick foliage of the trees cast deep shadows. Lisa dismounted first, took off the saddlebags and spread the blanket they had brought.
Milena was still looking at her from on top of the horse.
"Hey! Remember, I’ve never been on a horse, and that means I’ve for sure never gotten off one."
"Okay, I'll help you." Lisa came over, put her hands on the woman's hefty buttocks and, while gradually lowering Milena, gently held her from behind, sliding her hands from hips up toward bosom.
"Is that better?"
"Much better, thank you." Milena turned and glanced down at her blouse; spreading out from the nipples, were two obvious large wet stains.
"I've become a regular dairy cow, look what just this little touch does." She took a nipple and squeezed, and a small geyser of milk passed through the weft of the fabric, soaking Lisa’s own breasts. She looked at Milena, with an expression of false disapproval.
"Perhaps it'll be better if we sit down. Do you want to eat something?" Lisa had gotten the kitchen staff to prepare ham and cheese sandwiches, a basket of fruit, and several bottles of beer that were still cool. They sat on the blanket in the tall grass and ate lunch with deliberate slowness, savoring the simple fare as if it were a king's meal.
Lisa felt inwardly happy; she thought back to the state of confusion which had troubled her a few days before, and was amazed at the rapid transformation of her mood.
When they had finished eating they both lay on their backs, watching the clouds scudding across the sky.
Milena, with a sigh, began to prod and poke her enormous breasts, wincing as she tested the consistency of each bloated gland.
"God, these things hurt like hell; they're as full as two sea-going tanker ships. I knew that missing the milking session..." While speaking, she rolled over and struggled to her knees and was fumbling with her blouse. Lisa, still lying down, looked on dazed at this display. "... If I don’t empty these overloaded tits I’m going to end up with a bad case of mastitis, that's for sure."
When she had finished unbuttoning the garment, her enormous breasts hung pendulously into her lap in all their balloon-like immensity. Riding, talking, eating, the lengthy effort it took to get Milena dressed and on horseback ... it had been hours, and her mammaries were noticeably more swollen than when she had left the house. Milena grasped her right breast in both hands and, not without effort, brought the nipple up to her lips. She began to suck energetically; her milk let down immediately, the liquid spewing out abundantly from the corners of her mouth, over her chin, and then flowed over the fat breast, and from there, following its soft curve, soaked into the blanket lying on the ground. She was using the suction, and kneading the bloated behemoth of a breast, to get the milk flowing and then let it run out – the fluid was gushing too fast, and there was too much of it, for her to swallow any appreciable portion. As Lisa watched in heart-thumping wonder, Milena had to let her trembling arms down and lower the huge, fat udder to hang heavily against her belly. It was evident that just holding up that gigantic mammary gland involved considerable physical effort – more strength than she had. After a pause of labored breathing, she raised her eyes to Lisa and, in a tone as normal as possible, said: “I can’t do this by myself. Would you do me a big favor, baby?"
Then, without another word, she lay on her side and closed her eyes.
Lisa felt her head spin dizzily. She crawled over to the other woman on all fours, crouched at her side and began to suck at the mammoth breasts.
"Good ... good ... better now ..." Eyes still shut tight, Milena slid her hands over Lisa's body, tracing her curves, arrived at the buttons of her jeans, undid them, and put her hand in, searching for the vagina. Completely wet.
"Good ... do not stop ... it feels so much better ... I'm SO full ... the other one, now ... "
Lisa would not have stopped even for all the gold in the world. It was not only sexually arousing, she felt something different, something affecting her right down in the pit of her stomach. She knew she was in love with this woman, literally.
"You can touch me if you like." Milena said that as she reclined on her back; she took Lisa’s hand and led it gently between her thighs. She opened her pants and waited for Lisa to do the rest. Lisa found the large vulva, put her middle finger inside and then put it to her nostrils, to enjoy the smell that made her mad. Then she went on with her hand and began to follow the contours of the labia and clitoris, thicker than any clitoris she had ever felt.
Milena began to sway her pelvis, as if urging deeper penetration; Lisa understood, and caressingly sank her fingers in further.
At the end, shaken by stronger and stronger tremors, Milena pitched over and arched her back, violently flopping her huge breasts literally into her own face. She gave a little cry of startlement at the cascade of the heavy glands against her cheeks, but the cry immediately became one of ecstatic release, and then with a final shudder she lay back, sated, on the blanket, with her eyes closed. A broad smile lit her face.
The horses grazed peacefully, unaware of the grand spectacle they had witnessed.

Chapter Seventeen

2011-01-28T01:43:00.000+01:00

They returned to the villa around evening-time, laughing and joking like two little girls. Gunther heard their voices from the adjoining room and went to meet them in the hall.
"So, how was your ride?"
"Alright, thank you, Gunther," Lisa said, trying to compose herself. The man looked at her with a fond smile. The women were still wearing their rumpled blouses, hanging loose outside the riding jodhpurs; the expansive front of Milena’s blouse, down low at her waist and off to the sides, where her sagging milkbags positioned her nipples, was soaking wet; and several crusted-over patches indicated that she had been leaking profusely for quite a while.
"Well, then, to finish this beautiful day in grand style, I invite you to a gala dinner, to be held this evening at Villa Adler, featuring the famous Professor Bohm and his lovely assistant, Dr. Elizabeth Neufeld." He said this with grandiose pomposity, provoking the two girls into fits of hilarious laughter.
“Villa Adler? And where would that be? "
"Exactly where we are now. Nine o'clock, I recommend ... and do not forget to dress properly!"
They both waved him goodbye, and turned to the stairs. Milena groaned, put her arms down to cradle her bloated breasts, and tentatively put her foot out and felt for a step she couldn't possibly see. “Please do not laugh at my grossly over-full state! For science!” Lisa nodded solemnly, then both women started giggling, and the milk-heavy German allowed Lisa to help her totter up the stairs.
" 'Dress properly' ?" said Milena as Lisa steered the prize cow's bulk through the door and into her room. "I haven’t had a dress I can fit into, properly or not, in weeks ..."
"Wait for me here, I'll see if I can find something in my closet ..."
Lisa went back to her room, rummaged in the usual mess of her open suitcase, and found the only thing that could, in her opinion, fit the woman's gross body. Then she returned to Milena's room, entering without knocking. She heard the sound of running water, and realized she was already in the shower. When Milena came out, she was wrapped in a thick bathrobe, her hair pulled up in a towel. She went to a drawer and pulled out a giant purple bra, with matching panties. Lisa could not help laughing.
"You know, now that I think about, maybe my grandmother had tits as big as yours. Or maybe it was just me being smaller ... "
"You can kid about it, but this could be a serious problem," she said, while waving the huge garment under Lisa's nose.
"Gunther got this corsetiere from Potsdam ... when he told her my measurements, she responded that it wasn’t possible, that he was confusing European and U.S. sizes, inches and centimeters. So, when she came here to take actual measurements, she almost fainted at the sight of me. But she has worked for a week, to make this beautiful parachute."
"But I don’t really think you need it ..."
"No, actually, as you say, these bosoms stay put without any help. But I love underwear; I don’t know how much money I've spent on this stuff in recent years. Sometimes, it’s also nice to just enjoy being pampered and getting fitted for something special. Come here, baby, help me get into it."
She turned toward the large mirror mounted on the cabinet doors, presenting her back to Lisa, and dropped the robe to the ground. Lisa couldn't stop looking at her.
Milena slipped her arms through the thickly-padded shoulder-straps, and then held the two huge salad-bowl cups over her blimp-big mammaries. Lisa took the two halves of the bandeau and brought the ends together, beginning to hook the closures in place, while Milena slipped her hands inside the bra, trying to lift her breasts. Eventually she turned to her friend.
"So, what do you think?"
"You ... look fantastic!"
Milena smiled mischievously. She returned to the drawer and pulled out two black nylon stockings and a garter belt.
"These are practically impossible to get on by myself."
She sat on the bed and lifted up one leg. Lisa took the stockings, one at a time, gently rolled each, and then slipped them on her legs, fitting them from the foot to mid-thigh. She hooked each of them to the garters and admired Milena’s body, once again.
"Now you are perfect!" she said.
"Okay, but I can’t go to dinner dressed – or undressed - like this...”
"Yeah, I'd say not. I brought a little black stretch dress. I’m almost as tall as you, and maybe, if the fabric holds ... "
She helped her to squeeze into it. The dress was stretched to capacity, and the bra straps stuck out from the neckline; but in the end, with the addition of a black shawl over her shoulders, they decided it could work.
As a final touch Milena stepped into two very-high-heeled black shoes.
"Well?"
"You are one really big supermodel," said Lisa.

They went down to dinner a fashionable quarter-of-an-hour late, and found all the guests waiting in the living room.
Lisa, long blonde hair loose over her shoulders, had put on a tight white dress that glorified her form and her tanned complexion, while Milena proceeded with difficulty, constricted to mincing steps in that tight dress. She feared that, if she lengthened her steps to a normal stride, the garment would split in two, from top to bottom.
When they entered the room, they immediately noticed the presence of a new face - a young man in a velvet jacket and tie - skinny, with broad shoulders. He was wearing a pair of glasses perched on a long, thin nose. Elizabeth introduced him to the two girls.
“Oliver, these are Lisa and Milena ... "
"Ve ... very ..."
Only a few days before, Lisa would probably have turned on her heel and returned to her room, but to her surprise she was finding that her dislike for men was no longer as strong as it had once been. She just acted as if he was invisible, going around him to her seat at the table, while Milena put out her hand.
If the two girls did not expect to find an unexpected guest, for sure the boy was not at all prepared for this vision. He took Milena's hand, mumbling some incomprehensible words, visibly trying not to let his eyes stay fixed on the immense cleavage wobbling there in front of him.
Elizabeth, noting her boyfriend's discomfort and Milena’s amused expression, feared that his glasses would steam up; she took his arm and led him gently but firmly to his chair.
"He insisted so much on coming!" she whispered at Milena when they walked past her.
When everyone present was seated, Gunther welcomed his guests and raised his glass.
"We celebrate this table, and these wonderful ladies that cheer us with their presence. I toast to my good friend Stephan Bohm, whose genius has allowed us to create this exciting new venture. I sincerely hope that science can lead us to ever higher levels of knowledge; and, of course, I toast because all this could result in just rewards for our efforts."
The dinner began, to widespread delight, with an appetizer of oysters and caviar, accompanied by white Rhine wine. Professor Bohm proved once again to be the center of attention. He spoke in a deliberative voice, intentionally continuing in the same emphatic tone as Gunther.
"We all love science - that is the reason that brings us together in this beautiful home. But I was told that someone prefers riding instead of being the subject of our studies ..."
He looked into Milena’s eyes, his mouth smiling but his gaze deliberate and intense.
"Yes, I have to admit it. It was really beautiful today. I always wanted to get on an animal ... a real one, I mean. I must thank my girlfriend, Lisa."
"And I hope that having missed your scheduled therapy you didn’t ... have any complications. We better make a quick check tomorrow morning, to avoid any difficulties ... "
"No, no, I’m okay. We have remedied the … possible complications."
Milena looked at Lisa, who couldn’t suppress a giggle. "And my dear doctor, I can assure you I have never felt better. Your treatments have done wonders for me not only on the physical side, but also for my mood."
"This is a very interesting aspect of the experiments that we are conducting." The room became suddenly silent - Professor Bohm knew how to capture the attention of people.
"You see, the administration of hormones is a well-established practice today. In the United States you can find shelves full of pills at any drugstore - to increase muscle, to delay the onset of menopause, to alleviate the effects of aging on the human body. We are on the threshold of an historic period, where hormone therapies could be the answer to everything, as in the past it was thought that everything could be resolved with antibiotics, and just as today we think that in the near future gene therapy will replace traditional medicine. In reality, very little is known about the endocrinology of the human body, and about our reactions to hormones, especially animal and vegetable hormones. We know, certainly, that hormones interact with the activity of neurotransmitters, and thus indirectly with the emotions that we experience. But you women should know these things well – you have your own personal example."
The guests were silent, waiting for the doctor to continue.
"Is this discussion reminding you anything? Yet, it is so obvious. Very amusing, for instance, the fact that years ago a major airline spent thousands of dollars to assess the level of service provided by flight attendants. Twelve hundred stewardesses were sampled for that survey. They had to compile a schedule of their periods; the data were then correlated with passenger questionnaires rating the services provided on all the flights. The final result, which could have been predicted by any man of even modest intellect, was that during the premenstrual period stewardesses were very irritable, and during ovulation they were, by contrast, particularly attentive and helpful."
"Aha! That’s what you meant,"said Milena, and began to laugh out loud.
Dr. Bohm did not seem to share the humor of the moment.
"Yes, that, of course. But when we talk about the effects of animal hormone therapy, we have to consider another level of behavior entirely, not just the physical ... "
Milena was seated across from him and leaned forward, letting her huge tits drop onto the table; the plates and cutlery rattled, the glasses swayed dangerously. She stared into his eyes with open curiosity. They had captured the attention of everyone present.
"My dear, any university student of medicine, even a beginner, knows that among the most important rules of the profession are those that regulate the relationship between the doctor and the patient. Hippocrates would certainly find it unseemly for me to be here at the same table as you, Milena, talking about your case in such familiar terms." In the silence of the long pause that followed, the tension grew.
"But I, on the other hand, am a vet, and I have not made any oath of allegiance to the principles of medicine."
The tension evaporated in laughter, after which Milena responded.
"So?"
Stephan Bohm brought his goblet to his mouth, drank slowly, and wiped his lips with a napkin.
"Therefore, at the current stage of our studies, we have obtained two important results. First, we have succeeded, through the synthesis of animal hormones that you have taken, in ensuring that the levels of prolactin and oxytocin in your blood are about twenty times the normal values of a pregnant woman, and we have been able to maintain those levels unchanged. This means, for you, milk production of ten to twelve quarts – up to three gallons per day! - and the second thing, of course, is that your physical structure has adapted to this extreme state of lactation."
Milena looked down at her gross mammaries sprawled across the table.
"Well, there's no doubt that I'm showing some results here ..."
"The side effects of this, which - as we said a few nights ago with our Elizabeth - may be desirable ... are really curious."
"And they are?"
"We can distinguish between a primary side effect and a secondary side effect. The primary is that due to the effect of hyper-administration of female hormones, your body is always ovulating, or ready to receive seed and be fruitful." He looked at those seated before him, as if to gauge their response to his words.
"In the straightforward words of a peasant living in the boondocks around here, I would say the cow is in heat."
He said this with a sharp tone, coming out of his mouth almost through clenched teeth. Evidently he had not liked the liberties the two girls had taken that afternoon, and it was his intention to reaffirm his role in higher education.
Milena was watching him carefully, meanwhile tearing apart a chicken leg with her bared teeth. Carefully she cleaned the bone, removing the flesh and the cartilage, and turned it in front of her eyes, looking at it.
"Did you recently notice an increasing of your sexual desire, Milena?"
"Do not use that tone, Doctor, I'm already wet." She said it very profoundly, mocking the serious attitude of the man in front of her, running her tongue over her greasy lips. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, she brought the chicken bone down to her crotch. The tight skirt was already hiked up, and she pulled back her panties and and put the bone right into her vagina.
"However, this side effect, I mean being in heat, I like it a lot! But tell me about ... the other one, the secondary ..."
"The secondary effect is also evident. Lisa, our nowaday Pasiphae ... "
The blond girl was looking at him quizzically, not understanding.
"Yes?"
"I've noticed you watching our 'patient' from the very first moment you came into this room. Don’t you think that our friend Milena is extremely attractive?"
"I would say ... yes ..."
"But how would you define this fascination?"
Lisa suddenly felt embarrassed and bent her head.
"I don't know … you just feel it ... like something in the air ..."
"And you, Elizabeth?"
"Well, I would say … tonight I find her very sexy ... "
Gunther, at the opposite end of the table, was swinging his head from one speaker to the other, trying to grasp the meaning of the debate, but without understanding much.
"Exactly. The effect is just the transposition to humans of the mechanisms that regulate sexual attraction in animals. You, Fraulein, are experiencing the pheromones that Milena’s body releases in extremely high doses, and thanks, or because of this, you are instinctively sexually attracted to her."
"But why aren't the men feeling this?"
"It's hard to explain in simple words; let's just say it has to do with the defense mechanism that mother nature provides for pregnant females."
Milena put the chicken bone back on her plate. " ' females …' “ She laughed. “Well, in my case, I really feel it's more appropriate to call me, 'a large cow'. Elizabeth ... "
The young doctoress looked aghast, eyes wide.
"I’ve been touching myself for a while, under the table. Do you notice a peculiar smell?"
"I don’t know ..."
"Do you like me, tonight?"
Elizabeth suddenly flushed. "You know, here with my boyfriend next to me, it’s not easy to talk about certain things ..."
"But you don’t have to feel embarrassed - we are doing everything for the good of science, and I am sure that Oliver is happy to cooperate. Isn't that true, dear?"
The young man stared at her petrified, looking like a rabbit paralyzed under the glare of a cobra; in the end, he nodded his head affirmatively.
"Well, then, for tonight, I play the role of the professor."
She rose slowly from her chair, strain showing on her face as she struggled to lift the massive weight of her bosom off the table. Her Junoesque figure, enhanced by the height of heels that she was wearing, seemed to fill the room. She moved ponderously around the table, touching with one hand the shoulders of each diner, until she stopped behind Elizabeth.
"Turn around, dear. Not like that - with the chair, please."
The girl obeyed, and looked up at the huge woman from below. She felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Milena looked colossal, her face sticking out between those immense dirigibles of breasts. Suddenly she sat down on Elizabeth, facing her and with her legs spread wide so she could bring her body up close to the blonde girl; she put her hands gently behind the girl's head and caressed the nape of her neck, and rubbed her bottom up and down Elizabeth's legs, pressing her crotch against her.
"Do you notice it now, the smell?"
"Y ... Yes ..."
The woman then pulled the tight dress up to her waist with a quick tug. Everyone noticed the lack of panties, and the thick fur that covered her crotch.
"Touch it, if you like."
Elizabeth put her trembling hand on Milena’s round big stomach, and then slid her fingers down. She looked up, waiting for a sign of approval. Milena nodded, smiling, and Elizabeth immediately was seized with a burning desire to insert her middle finger into the hefty brunette's vulva. The digit slid in easily, between the soaked labia, causing Milena to shudder, and jolt the gigantic breasts as they hung nearly to her waist. She grabbed Elizabeth's hand and began to move the finger in and out.
In the absolute silence, the dinner guests heard only Milena, breathing through clenched teeth, emitting groans of pleasure.
Suddenly she withdrew from Elizabeth, pulling down her skimpy clothes.
"I think that should suffice. Science has triumphed once again. Lisa?"
Lisa had admired the scene in ecstasy; she felt no jealousy at what she had seen, but a boundless admiration for this incredible human being.
She had watched Milena show off all her overwhelming physical prowess, but also had seen how easily she had over-matched Professor Bohm, literally rendered him speechless … and furthermore, with this unique performance she had completely enchanted not only him, but everyone in the room.
"Yes, Milena. Tell me what you'd like now!"
"I am a little tired, and my tits are so full of milk that I can’t even fit into this bra any more." With that she brought her hands up under her mammoth breasts and bobbled them up and down.
"What about if we go upstairs and you give me a hand and get me into bed?"
"Whatever you say, Milena." She came over, put her hands on the woman's round hips, and then kissed her hard.
They left the room hugging, leaving the guests in silent astonishment.

Chapter Eighteen

2011-01-27T13:05:00.001+01:00

Minos, King of Crete, asked Poseidon, God of the Sea, to send him a bull. The gift of this bull from the sea would be proof that the Olympians sanctioned his kingdom.
In fact, Poseidon sent the bull, of a flawless pure white, to be sacrificed. But Minos did not sacrifice the bull - fascinated by its beauty, he decided to use it as a stud to improve his herd.
Pasiphae, wife of the king, saw the bull and was so enchanted by the majestic animal that she became passionately obsessed with it. Her carnal desire, otherwise incomprehensible, was due to the divine intervention of Poseidon, who intended to punish Minos for his disobedience.
As often happens in Greek myth, the divine will worked on human frailties, and the Mouth of Madness fell from above on the mortals.

Ovid, in "Metamorphoses", describes with sublime prose the contrasting feelings that worked on the young queen: her initial hesitation to touch the mighty animal, her admiration for its immaculate coat and its massive muscles, its calm gaze that invites her to dare, until she reaches out her hand to caress its chest and face ...
The passion, perverse, but derived from her pure and innocent love for the noble spirit of the bull, led to Pasiphae begging Daedalus, her husband's court architect, to build a device to make possible coupling between a woman and a bull. And so it was - he built a wooden cow, perfect in its proportions and covered with leather, so as to deceive the animal, and concealed Pasiphae inside.
Pasiphae enjoyed the coitus and became pregnant; from this union was born the Minotaur, a mythological being with the body of a man and the head of a bull.
Over the centuries the Minotaur came to represent an extreme synthesis of nature and man, the volatile merging of instinct and reason, resulting in the most unholy of forbidden fruit - he is sentenced to live imprisoned in the Labyrinth, hidden from the view of all, and placated every year with the gift of seven Athenian boys and seven girls.
This dual essence melds the strength and sensuality of the animal with the lustful nature of man, but in the Minotaur himself there is and there can be no guilt, because its animal nature excludes it from the sphere of self-awareness and responsibility.
At the end of the myth, the humans are punished for their sins: Minos, for disobeying Poseidon, Pasiphae for having mated with a bull, Daedalus for defying the gods with his genius.
But the only one who will pay with his life will be the Minotaur, whose only fault is, in truth, its fusion of man and animal.

Lisa closed the heavy book with a bang, and noted the cover: Commentary of the Ancient Greek Myths, Franz Hoffmann, Dresden 1907.
They were in the library of the villa, a large hall with high ceilings, walls covered with shelves and cabinets full of old books. Lisa had not even opened a book since leaving school, and she had no intention of starting now, but the days seemed endless.
"You know the nerve of him, that prick of a professor? Pasiphae, he called me."
The altered tone of her voice brought a smile to the face of Milena, who lay sprawled on a couch half-listening to her friend as she ate a large platter of breaded veal.
"Hey, and what about me? If you are Pasiphae, who am I?"
This time it was Lisa's turn to smile.
"You are the beautiful creature of nature that seduced me, Bohm is Poseidon, Daedalus Gunther. All we're missing is the Minotaur arriving in the flesh, and then we'll have everybody."
"That’s our story, alright, but around here the only animal is still me." Milena shoveled another cheese-laden slab of veal into her mouth, downed it in a couple of bites, and immediately took one more. “I'm the big fat cow, out to pasture.”
"Actually, for the past couple of days I've started to feel like a cow, too ..."
The topheavy blonde had began treatment a few days before, and she immediately noticed that everything seemed designed to be humiliating: medications at fixed times; intravenous drips; tests; the heavy meals, gallons of water she had to drink each day, tablets of gastroprotectors. It was like being in a real dairy barn. Lisa had also started sessions of "stimulation", with the same equipment she had seen Milena hooked up to, the first time she had been in her room.
To date, the only result for Lisa was that her beautifully oversized breasts had lost their softness and sensual malleability and become more turgid, so that she continuously had the sensation of impending menstruation, and her nipples were permanently hard, almost hurting her.
For all of them, the days passed slowly. Lisa couldn't wear a bra anymore because her mammaries were so painfully swollen. Having to get around without wired cups supporting her enormously heavy breasts, was exhausting and extremely uncomfortable. She hadn't gone all day without wearing a bra since she was eight years old, and now found it extremely disconcerting that every time she attempted to move, those gigantic sagging breasts got in the way. The offices at the hunting lodge were not ready yet, and the only distraction was the occasional long horse ride. Of course Milena was there, but Lisa didn't get to see that much of her enormous inamorata. The mammoth woman had to be milked three times a day, over an hour each session just for the pumping, with additional time required to set her up and attend to her afterwards. Milena ate constantly, but also had to eat three long, substantial meals each day, and she was in deep, exhausted sleep much of the rest of the time. So at best Lisa saw her for a few hours, when she was stuffing herself, yawning, or fretful over her grossly swollen mammaries, and not giving Lisa the full attention she craved.
After the dinner at which Milena so peremptorily shouted at the professor, Lisa had begun to see the object of her desires in new ways.
There was now no doubting the truth of what the doctor had said – Lisa was feeling a noticeable attraction to Milena, any time of day, just from being in her presence. It had become a genuine compulsion, a strong need for physical contact. But the desire that continually inflamed Lisa didn’t disappear after any bodily union; the embrace made her feel, for just a few minutes, completely and pleasantly devoid of any energy. For just a few minutes. Then the sight of that body, those blimp-like masses of striated flesh, her amazing, intoxicating milkbags, turned her on again with lust.
And it was equally true that Milena now continually desired to be looked at, touched, satisfied.
The thing that Lisa found even more exciting, was that Milena was never bold or overt in expressing those desires for attention - when she invited glances, she did it with no more than a suggestive tilt of her torso that turned her bosom profile; she would only ask, almost reluctantly, for assistance in moving her unwieldy body; yet she made each sortie with the absolute confidence that came from knowing she would never be refused. To get a reaction, and the attention she craved, it was enough for Milena to show herself half-naked, to make a gesture, to throw a glance ... sometimes not even that much was required.
The effect was apparently the same on other women, judging by how Elizabeth had swooned for her in a few seconds, that night earlier, right before the eyes of all of them.
At the moment, for example, Milena was sitting sideways on a chair, a leg over its brocaded arm, her elbow resting on the other arm. As she often did now, she casually palpated one huge breast, absent-mindedly testing the consistency of the gland and gauging how full she was. Lisa, at that movement alone, felt all her senses come alert. But Milena didn’t go any further, evidently judging that her gross udders could go on swelling a bit longer. She squirmed momentarily, took a deep breath and tried to shift one mammoth pendulosity to a more comfortable position on its pile of pillows.
Instead, she said: "So Pasiphae succeeded in arranging for herself to be mounted by a bull ... an experience that certainly opens up new horizons ... right?"
Lisa smiled. "Okay, under the spell of the gods, but to me that seems a little excessive, in the way of sex, don't you think?"
"Well, considering you don’t even get it on with men ..." Milena paused a moment to think, then:
"But why? I mean, after that episode in your childhood, didn’t you ever have any … well ... with a man?"
"No, never."
Lisa began to talk about her first months at Gunther’s nightclub, and how she achieved satisfaction from being admired, extreme satisfaction, very close to sexual orgasm. That seemed to disconcert Milena.
"My God, you've got it basically still wrapped and beribboned. Me … I've given it away quite a lot, sometimes for money, more often for nothing. Not that I particularly liked doing it, in fact. When you're young you do certain things just because you think it is normal to do them. But, my dear, you have a problem, and you'd better address it."
"No, no, it’s okay: I have no problem," said Lisa, tossing her head. "I'm young, healthy, I made a lot of money having these grotesque fat tits - it's all fine."
She lit a cigarette, inhaled quickly and blew small puffs up at the ceiling, watching the smoke swirl and dissipate. Then she spoke softly.
"You know how the saying goes: those who are content, have ..."
"Well, baby, there are ways and ways to enjoy something. Not all orgasms are equal.”
Their eyes met, and Lisa felt the intensity of Milena's gaze - those dark brown eyes seemed to shine with a light of their own.
"You see before you someone who has committed so many mistakes that I could write a book like that one, myself - but the greatest mistake of all has been to 'content' myself with a lousy situation, when I could have done better. Now Gunther has given me a chance, and you can be sure that this time I won’t be satisfied with the crumbs. And as for you ... Lisa, don’t settle for 'content' – being content with yourself is pretty poor."
She rose from her armchair, panting at the effort, and leaned forward as her milk-laden colossi dragged at her shoulders. Milena had trouble walking at any time; when her udders were completely full-blown, as they were now, she could barely stand up.
"And now, I'm going to let them squeeze my tits, as planned," she said, lumbering unsteadily to the door; before closing it she turned to Lisa.
"Come see me tonight, my Pasiphae. Wait until I've been milked enough that I can move, and I'll teach you that all fucks are not equal. Moooo!"
She mesmerized her with that imitation of a cow mooing, as she walked slowly to the laboratory, the incredibly full and bloated breasts swaying in front of her.

Chapter Nineteen

2011-01-26T10:21:00.000+01:00

"Behold!"

Lisa entered Milena’s room on tiptoe; she felt like she was back in the days of her school trips, when, in the deep of the night, she would join together with the other girls, and hide from their teachers just to smoke a cigarette. Tonight she was wearing, as always, panties and a man's pajama top.

She heard the voice coming from the bathroom: "Just a few moments and I’ll be ready for you, baby! Sit on the bed, please."

Lisa sat, looking around nervously. She noticed that the room was lit only by the glow of a row of candles placed on the fireplace mantle. She didn’t have any idea what to expect in this situation, and felt the tension growing rapidly in her.

"Now, close your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you."She obeyed. Shortly after that, she heard Milena's footsteps leaving the bathroom, and felt her presence, her smell, as she came closer.

"Okay, you can open them now."

Lisa opened her eyes and saw, in front of her, the imposing figure of Milena, as tall as she had ever been. The blonde automatically looked down to the floor, and saw that beneath a black satin gown she was wearing a tight pair of patent leather boots with heavy-soled heels, tied back with crossed straps. She raised her eyes and saw, above the huge breasts, Milena's eyes - she had outlined them with a sharp black pencil, extending the line of her lashes on the eyelids. She had used striking gray eyeshadow, dark red lipstick to enhance those intense smiling lips, and penciled her eyebrows thick and dark. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and then descended in a flowing ponytail. She seemed satisfied with the effect – after turning her head to the side and back to show off, she undid her robe and opened it, offering her body for Lisa’s inspection.

"I put on the first thing I found ..." she said jokingly.

Above the boots, which ended at mid-thigh, came black fishnet stockings, attached to a leather bodice. Starting above the bodice, and hanging down and resting against the leather, were her two big, fat, immense bare breasts. In the dim flickering light, Lisa saw the wet tracks on her skin, left by the milk drops gushing from the dark nipples; she felt a burning urge to lick the drops as they slid down the long slope, but she didn’t dare, without the express approval of Milena.

"How do I look?"

"You're incredible! But where ... "

"... Where did I find this stuff? That's what I wanted to tell you tonight."

Milena tied her robe, took a chair near the bed, and sat down, crossing her legs.

"A long time ago Gunther told me how the two of you met ... how you showed up at his club, and your fabulous success. I - like I said, I came to him as a bartender - I noticed him often sitting at the bar so he could look me over. I was starting to think I'd need to break a glass over his head. But one day, at the end of the evening, he said: 'Milena, you have something, ... the way you act, the way you move ... something special. The more you give short shrift to your customers, the more they stick to you.' I didn’t understand what he was really leading up to, of course.

'You're a beautiful girl, and you can earn five times as much as you do now, if you only put into practice your talent. Let’s say a thousand ... twelve hundred! ... marks a week.' "

That was a lot of money at the time, so I didn’t have to think too long about it. I went back with him to one of the private rooms behind the stage and he gave me some stuff to wear - leather, chains, studs, stuff like that. Then he said, 'Now sit down on that couch; you just stay there, and keep silent and watch and learn how it's done.'

"Shortly after that a Swedish girl who worked in the club, Annika, came in. - I saw her every day and we frequently drank something together, or made small talk about nothing much. - She winked at me.

“After her came a distinguished gentleman, clearly embarrassed. Annika made him strip, and kneel. And then she began striking him with a whip, driving her heels into his ribs ... in short, she beat him really violently. I could hardly keep myself from laughing; everything seemed so absurd. The bizarre thing was watching the transformation of Annika, this good girl who just a few hours before was telling me about starting a family and setting up her home, now had become a She-Wolf of the SS."

"At the end Gunther told me: that's all you have to do, and you can even make it a rule that no one touches you, if you think that's something you don't want to do for money."

Milena accompanied this last sentence with the unmistakable gesture of rubbing two fingers against her thumb.

"So, in brief, without reaching your level of fame, I became a quite-well-known dominatrix."

"And these things, did you bring them here from Hamburg?"

"Well, not really from Hamburg, but I continued anyway, let’s say, to practice even after I left Gunther's. That - ” and she pointed her finger to a suitcase leaning against the side of the bed “ - is my bag of tricks. Tools of the trade."

Lisa looked at the suitcase - it was made of some shiny black material, and already looked threatening even before being opened.

"Would you mind giving that to me, baby?"

God, Lisa loved to be called ‘baby’ by her – the endearment had become the verbal prelude to any act of pleasure. She reached over and pulled the case to her, not without effort. It felt pretty heavy. Milena got up from the chair and picked the case up, lifted it effortlessly and dropped it on the desk as if it was empty. Lisa looked at her in amazement.

"But ... when I tried, I thought it was full of bricks ... "Milena laughed, flexing her shoulders.

"Well, if you had changed barrels and barrels of beer for years, it would seem lighter to you, too. Not to mention that these tonics of Dr. Bohm’s really have had an extraordinary effect on my muscles ... "

She snapped the locks open, keeping her back to Lisa, and then began to list the contents.

"Whip, cat-o'nine-tails ... handcuffs, blindfold ... pins ... very useful, those ... ah, here's something you'll like ..."

She turned slightly, holding out this thing that looked to Lisa like a bit for a horse, complete with harness.

"No, keep quiet, I'm not going to ride you. Where is it ... I can’t have forgotten it in Berlin, oh man ... ah, here it is!" Milena looked at Lisa over her shoulder, smiling, then said, "Now I'm going into the bathroom and I'm coming out with a nice surprise. Make yourself comfortable on the bed ..."

Lisa obeyed, enchanted by the scene she was witnessing.

Shortly after, Milena returned and perched on the edge of the bed, without the boots, but still completely wrapped in the robe. When she untied it, a few inches from Lisa's face appeared a large black rubber dildo, attached to a pair of shorts with straps on the sides, to make it stay erect right between the legs of the woman. Lisa's eyes widened.

"Milena, you can't imagine ..." Lisa raised her head and looked at the German; but Milena was already nodding in satisfaction.

"Of course I imagine, and you’ll see – it's going to be an exciting experience ..." She knelt, straddling Lisa's legs, and undressed completely. The woman began to rub her mammoth hanging breasts, with large open circular hand gestures, and while doing it she was talking to Lisa in a persuasive voice.

"It's not a normal dildo - I bought in Amsterdam, and never doubt that the Dutch know how to do these kind of things. It’s partially filled with heated water, so that it provides the warmth and the consistency of a real cock. All my clients were delighted ... "

"But I don’t think … I mean ... the size ..."

"Yes, this one is a little above average, but certainly the one that Pasiphae took was worse ... or better, depending on your point of view ..."

Milena kept looking at her, smiling and rubbing her tits, and increasingly she seemed to enjoy the movement of her swollen mammaries. Warm milk began to drip down on Lisa's belly.

"Milena, I'm scared ..."

"Good. Fear is an essential component of sadomasochistic relationships; fear turns on the desire and multiplies the pleasure ... But I don’t want to hurt you at all. I will definitely make you feel really good ... "

She took a nipple with both hands and squeezed. Several thin but continuous streams of milk were squeezed out and, describing a parabola in the air, shot out to splatter Lisa’s breasts. At that point, Lisa went over in her mind the terror of being penetrated by that thing, feeling it rubbing between her thighs - yet she was also preternaturally excited to feel a continuous tingling sensation in her wet vagina.

"Milena, kiss me please ..."

"No, no, maybe later, if you be good. Now turn and get on all fours."

Breathing hard, and not just from the effort of moving her heavy body, Milena had gotten up and was standing beside the bed. Lisa obeyed, her gross breasts hanging down between her arms.

She heard Milena approaching behind her, then felt her put a hand on her shoulders and caress the tense muscles of her back, then slip the hand into the cleft of her buttocks and search for the vulva. Then she put two fingers in and began to massage; Milena could feel the trembling of Lisa’s body and at the same time sense the vagina relaxing and opening up, more and more wet. When she thought the girl was ready, she knelt behind her and put the big penis on her butt.

"Now relax baby, we're just having sex." She slowly slid it inside and began to move it; after a couple of minutes she brought the palm of her right hand up to Lisa's crotch, began to finger the girl's clitoris.

"Milena ... I ... I like ... I like what you're doing ..."

"We have just begun, just begun ..."

The woman began to push faster, matching the rhythm of the oscillations that Lisa was making. When Milena could tell that Lisa’s body was completely ready, she sank the rubber dick completely into her, with a gentle pelvic motion, and encircled Lisa's waist with one arm, while she kept on moving. Now her huge, weighty breasts were swinging ponderously and slamming themselves down on Lisa's back, and the loud fleshy-slapping sound was for Lisa stronger than any other sensation. She began to moan uncontrollably, louder and louder, until she screamed with pleasure. Eventually she collapsed on the bed, drained of all energy.

After a delay that seemed interminable she felt Milena caressing her shoulder - she turned and saw her, smiling, and holding her index finger between her legs. The big phallus was gone, and she could see the German woman's big hairy pudenda, waiting to be investigated.

Lisa reached back, searching for it with her fingers and, like before, she breathed in deeply of the musky perfume that snatch exuded, drawing it up to her nose.

Milena lay down on the bed, her hands working hard to keep her gigantic breasts from rolling wildly, while Lisa sank her head between her thighs.

Chapter Twenty

2011-01-25T10:09:00.000+01:00

The first week of September arrived: the hot summer days were shortened. In the afternoon, thick gray clouds descended from the north and cloaked the landscape with a colder, metallic light: often it rained, and Lisa stayed at home, watching the drops slipping on the windows.
Boredom ticked the hours she spent int the villa: but this unwanted companion, which usually becomes a habit, however, had become for Lisa a sort of pleasant indulgence. Her thoughts, if not her actions, were still filled by the presence of Milena, and it was the same for her too.
Their relationship had grown in all directions and had turned into the kind of deep friendship that can only develop out of the ordinary situations, such as the one that they were experiencing.
To this, one must add that their sexual relationship ended up with an almost perfect sexual harmony; every day, even if it was boring, culminated in a so intense and enjoyable physical relationship to let them dazed and sleepy for hours. For Lisa, who had never had a relationship of any kind, nor sentimental and least of all sexual, what she was experiencing was absolutely unique and valuable.
She willingly would have agreed to spend, in the boredom of that house, all the rest of her life, if somebody could ensure her that the next day would be equal to the previous one.
That Sunday morning, Lisa woke up unusually early for her habits: she had come downstairs for first, when the house was still shrouded in silence: Gunther had left the previous day and , like every Sunday, the staff was at rest.
She had breakfast while thinking for that very day: medicine, tests, mechanical stimulation. Her breasts were growing, week by week, although they were still far from the gigantic size of Milena’s, and they had tentatively begun to produce a few drops of milk. The grueling milking sessions resolved with a little more than a half cup of liquid per part, but the professor was saying that her progresses were very encouraging.

The laboratory was, as every Sunday, deserted: the large windows were flooding it with the cold light of that sunny morning. Order and absolute silence. Lisa had gone there just for that very reason.
Since this whole incredible story had began, or to be more precise from that day when she met Dr. Bohm for the first time, Lisa had this persistent idea that continued to work in her brain. The images of Greta, the DDR girl that many years before had gone under the treatments of the Professor, these images were often present before her , when she lied on the bed with eyes closed. That same morning, in the semi-unconscious state that anticipate the wake, she had dreamed of her: the enormity of those breasts didn’t have any compare in reality, even with those, however immense, of Milena. Taking advantage of the calm of that high day, she had proposed herself to go down in the offices of the laboratory to discover the truth.
She knew where was the desk of Professor Bohm and she walked to it with decision: she opened the drawers without difficulty, the key was inserted, and looked through the papers. The green folder was not there, just as it was logical that it was. Only notes, medical journals, nothing else. Then her eyes fell on the computer screen, on the table beside. She felt an almost imperceptible hum coming from below, leaned, and saw, in the tower at the floor, a little flashing green light. She switched on the video, and after a few seconds, right in the center it appeared the message: "Do you really want to turn off the computer?"
Lisa knew that the whole computer system was password protected, but apparently the previous evening someone had forgot to turn it off, and the computer was simply left on standby.
She took the mouse, moved the cursor on "no" and clicked.

User: Dr. Stephan Bohm.
Task manager.
View folders.
Sessions IV year examinations.
Exam Session V year.
University lecture notes.
Protocols.
Students.

The labyrinth of Daedalus. This was a computer for the eyes of a stranger. Thousands of files, one inside each other, like concentric circles: corridors, rooms, corridors, doors that opened on other doors.
They had left the key under the dorma; in fact, even the ajar door. But from this to find what she was looking for ...
She did a quick search with the name of Greta. Nothing.
DDR. Six files. Lisa took a look at them quickly, but there was nothing that had relevance to the experiments of the 70s.
70 years ... suddenly it flashed through her mind, as if she was looking at it before her, the registration number of the medical records: Greta SV 14279.
She didn’t know if that number represented a date, but February 14, 1979 was the day when Lisa was born. SV, Saint Valentine. Looking back at that moment, even that seemed really a twist of fate.
She typed the letters, the number and the research program visualized it there, on the screen.
SV14279.pdf: the graphical representation of the medical records of Greta, the girl of the DDR.
Lisa opened file after a moment of hesitation.
At first she saw the photos that had so affected her. She noted, unlike the first time, how much that girl was thin despite the disproportionate size of the breasts.
Then the medical record, typed: Greta Bauer, born in Rostock, 24/05/52. Anthropometric measures before the start of the protocol: height. 172, 107 bust, waist 75, hips 112.
There followed a series of impressive physical data for thoroughness, and then a precise description of treatment and drugs that were administered daily.
Lastly, in the last handwritten pages, the course of the patient during the therapy.

March 3. After the first week, the patient seems to respond well to treatments. The breasts have a turgid consistency and show a swollen areolas.

March 12. Started on intravenous treatment with THR11 intake. The subject is well prepared and cooperative.

March 19. After a week of THR11, there was a visible increase in the breasts. Having no side effects worth of mentioning, the dose is increased to 500 mg ...

April 2 ... The subject is entered into a state of amenorrhea, probably not reversible. Flanked therapy with gastro. The person accused mild symptoms of gastric ulcers. The diameter of the breast is 122 cm ...

April 8 ... Continue hormone therapy: attached to the THR11 the TSG23, which has shown excellent results on test animals. The mechanical stimulation causes fissures: steroid ointment prescribed by ...

April 21 ... Milk production has increased exponentially after treatment with TGS23. The subject indicates vitamin deficiencies or cracking. Prescribed food supplement tablets ...

April 28 ... The subject denotes sudden mood swings, perhaps due to longer treatment and segregation. Prescribed antidepressants in average doses. The anthropometric data are growing within 146 cm ...

May 6 ... Not considering the direction satisfying what now achieved, increased doses of THR11, added TSG47 ...

May 18 ... Milk production reaches the highest so far with 10 liters a day and a weekly average of 51. The surface circulation seems to support the increase in breast tissue ...

May 22 ... Suspended mechanical stimulation for the presence of fissures: presence of bilateral mastitis. Hormone therapy continues as planned ..

May 25 ... The person refuses treatment. Increased the doses of antidepressants up to 800 mg ...

Lisa felt a lump in her stomach: she wanted to stop and curse herself for her curiosity, but she couldn’t ...

June 7th .. Continue feeding and treatment with antidepressants. Hormonal therapy animal continues: reached 168 cm. of breastsize ...

June 16 ... New in maximum daily production with 12.3 liters. Mild signs of breast adipose tissue necrosis, with partial ...

June 23 ... the subject's physical conditions are getting worse: refusal of food and care. Forced administration of intravenous ...

She heard the front door opening in the distance, then the rumors of a walk on the floor of the atrium: someone was coming in the lab: she closed the file in a hurry, looking toward the entrance door ... turned off the video. "Shit, shit ... come on, come on" – she said to the computer rising from the desk and, with her heart pounding like crazy, she headed for the exit. She knew she hadn’t an innocent appearance: couldn’t have, after what she had read.
The door opened and Dr. Bohm, seeing the girl in the lab, he stopped by the door frame: the facial expression was more serious that surprised.
"Hello, Miss Lisa." - he said gravely - "How come you are here in early morning?"
"Ehm ... I was just looking for you, I wanted to ask you some things about therapy ..."
"You should know that I’m never here on Sunday, here at the villa." Those last words came out of his mouth, carefully scanned as heavy boulders.
He stopped still. Then the serious expression broke into a drawn smile.
"Obviously it’s your lucky day: come please, sit down at my desk." So saying, the doctor walked past her. He sat down and immediately threw his eyes on the video. He touched the screen with the back of his hand.
"Come on Lisa, please, sit out here and tell me ..." Lisa sat down, even if she wanted to be somewhere else. She stayed a while in silence, as to find out in her mind the beginning of a speech that was already prepared.
"You see, since I met you, I have a question that I would like to do, but I've never had the opportunity ..." The professor looked at her in silence, hands clasped under his chin.
"On the square, two questions."
"Please ..."
"Why are you conducting these experiments? I mean, you are an esteemed professional in your subject, I don’t think you need fame, or money ... "She looked at him with her head tilted to one side, waiting for a reaction to the words. Bohm smiled.
"Dear Miss: even forgetting that yes, I’m a university professor, but in veterinary medicine (and just between us, I know a lot more, in terms of medicine, of many colleagues dedicated to the human body), let’s say that these experiments are beyond the scope of medicine and certainly they would raise the disapproval, if not worse, of the entire university community. I am careful not to disclose the results of what we are doing on a scientific publication, by subscribing it with my name. And about money, the answer is, again, no: there would be probably plenty of multinational pharmaceutical companies that would pay huge amounts to ensure to millions of women worldwide the growth of the natural breast as that of my assistant Elizabeth ... "
"So?"
"Dear lady, to patent a medicine you must put your signature on it and, consequently, your reputation. You’ll understand that this may pose problems, given the role I have the veterinary science."
"But there must be a reason that drives you to do all that." The doctor looked at her, smiling as usual.
"Not at all, not necesserily there must be a reason. Or rather, not everything should be understandable to all: fate, destiny, divine will are not meant to be encompassed by the poor human nature. What inspires me to continue this research has reason for being in the research itself and nothing else. "
Lisa thought she had understood.
"So ... you like it and that's all."
"I see you have the innate gift of synthesis and, believe me, not everyone has. Maybe 'pleasure' is not the exact word, but the essence it’s that. I would have no interest in knowing that an American housewife of forty in San Diego self-inflicts daily injections to her breasts to force her husband to forget his office noun. I would consider it very trivial and demeaning. And about the other side, the economic one, I believe that money should never be what animates the will of a scientist. "
"My personal satisfaction, my greatest pleasure is to see the human body changed, transformed, also improved, to deny the supremacy of nature over the man. We are the product of millennia of evolution of species; much of what we are we simply owe to the adaptation to the surroundings, if not the fatality. For too long now mankind has allowed nature to decide for him: today men have the ability to radically change their bodies and they must necessarily do it in the near future, if they want to survive. "
He took a long break and sank on his back, a strange grin appeared on his lips.
" I hope you won’t mistake me for the mad scientist of some horror movies." Lisa smiled, embarrassed.
"I would ask you the second request..."
Dr. Bohm leaned toward the computer and tapped with a finger on the spacebar. The machine began to hum. The man narrowed his eyes as to focus on what had appeared on the screen.
"Say ..."
"What happened to Greta?"
Dr. Bohm raised his piercing eyes on Lisa, then looked around at the high windows panes. He began to speak chanting the words.
"... Pasiphae Pasiphae, wife of King Minos of Crete, when the Minoan civilization dominated over all the peoples of the Mediterranean. Beautiful and powerful woman who had everything and everyone at her feet. Pasiphae daughter of Helios, and then demigoddess, as you seem to be on the other hand, in a world of mediocre people. It 's amazing to think how even today, after thousands of years, the Greek myths can be so present and reveal so much of the human nature."
She looked toward the girl.
"You fell in love with a bull, Lisa. White and strong as a bull, as it does not exist in nature. You are in love with a body with superhuman features, because a god sent it from above. Your uneasiness stems from the fact that this seems to be wrong and unnatural. But mind you, there is no sin in your feelings, because they are guided by divine will. The feeling you are living seems to be new and inexplicable: it sounds strange, but I do understand it perfectly, because the two of us share the same admiration for an extraordinary being. I'll tell you another myth that you could find interesting. Do you know the story of Pandora's box? "
Lisa shook her head.
"When Zeus decided to destroy humanity because disappointed by his conduct, he deprived the mankind of the sacred fire: the fire as a symbol of spirituality, but also of the intellectual capacity of men. Prometheus stole the fire to Zeus and gave it back to men. The punishment for this profane affront to Zeus was exemplary, but also subtle. He didn’t affect men with thunders coming from the sky, but he made up everything so that men themselves were the cause of their misfortunes; Pandora received a gift from Zeus: a jar that contained all the evils in the world, with the absolute ban not to open it. The God knew that the woman’s curiosity wouod have the upper hand on the prescribed order, and so it was. Pandora opened her box, throwing humanity into horror and misery. "
He rose suddenly from his chair and began to walk around the desk.
"Hesiod says: and neverending sorrows wander among men, and the earth is full of evil, as it’s full the sea, the diseases among men, some in the daytime, others at night time wander, bringing evils to mortals, in silence. So you can not fool the mind of Zeus. "
In the silence that followed the doctor looked at the computer and then at Lisa, enunciating the last sentence again: "So you can not fool the mind of Zeus."
Lisa felt the discomfort growing.
"Yes, I understand, but Greta?"
"Greta? Greta ... what? ... The Greta of Pieter Brueguel? ... that one in the Mayer van der Bergh Museum, Antwerp? Dear Lisa, you are the example that curiosity is definitely female. You are not understanding that such questions not only have no answers, but it is also improper to ask. I say it in your interest, miss. "
Lisa felt a surge of anger: she couldn’t accept to be treated like an dummy like that. She took courage.
"Look, I’m aware of what happened thirty years ago, and if I have to go on to be shooted from you doctor, I have the right to know everything, otherwise I’ll make a mess that Pandora’s box will be nothing ..."
"I think in fact you are a little bit exhausted from the situation: perhaps it would be better to start therapy with antidepressants." Lisa, at that word, felt a shiver along the spine. The doctor stood behind him. Lisa raised her voice.
"Look, now It’s time to stop to treat me like a cow ..." she felt a slight tingling at the base of the neck, like a puncture, and heard the professor saying: "She's just tired, Miss Lisa, she has only to rest. .. "
The words seemed to reach faint, from far away: she turned the wheelchair and saw so a fuzzy apparition: Milena was advancing from the door of the laboratory, in the glow of that light softened her skin seemed extremely pale. She was dressed as a maitresse, with those incredible high-heeled boots blacks: she weared, unlike the first evening when she saw her dressed that way, a blond wig and a reduced bra that was squeezing the huge breasts in an incredible way; two tiny triangles, held together by black leather straps that deeply furrowed the flesh. She was advancing slowly, one step to another, moving sinuously her hips and sliding her gloved hand on the long laboratory desk. Without understanding why, Lisa could not bring her into focus. She arrived a few steps away from them.
"Hello, Doktor Frankenstein ..."
Professor Bohm was in obvious embarrassment. He began to sweat.
"Her girlfriend had a faintness: I should lay her on the couch ..."
"Let her there doctor, there's no hurry: she always acts like this if she’s not in the spotlight. This morning I was bored to death, so I decided to get dressed, let’s say, in an eccentric way. "
She put her hands on her hips and executed a pirouette in front of the man. Then she came up smiling. With heels she was taller than him almost for the whole head, and far more impressive.
"Do you like it?"
"W.. what?" Bohm was dripping.
"Excuse me, I missed the right conjugation. Do you like me? "
“Yes but, .. Miss Milena ... I don’t ... "
She reached her hand on his nape, and pulled him, immersing the man's head between her big udders.
"You know, some questions have no answer: others absolutely require an answers. Then, you like me? "
The professor, his flushed face completely
collapsed in the deep cleavage of the breasts, tried to say something, but what came out of the mouth was totally incomprehensible.
Milena glanced at the ceiling, pulling at her the man's head with all the strenght of her arm, then pulled something out of the cuff of the boots and laid it on the back of Stephan Bohm. A electric shock blitzzed in the air, an the man fell disjointed to the ground, like a marionette that had his wires cut.
Milena looked at the object in her hand.
"Electric gun, - she said -" I think they also shoot down the cows when they can’t produce milk anymore. There will certainly be a greek myth that explains why I always eventually get to that point... "

Chapter Twentyone

2011-01-24T22:21:00.000+01:00

"Yeah, sure ... no, here everything is fine. When do you arrive? ... Okay ... "
Lisa turned to Milena, lying at her side, and with her hand covering the phone, she whispered: "It’s Gunther: he says he’s coming on Tuesday!" Then she went on.
"Whatever you want, my dear ...you know I’m not too much into such things... Okay, bye... bye... "
In late September, Lisa and Milena were enjoying, by the poolside, the last days of that wonderful and amazing summer. They were lying on the sunbeds, side by side, magnificent in their abundance of forms and totally relaxed.
"He says that today they published on the website a preview picture: the one in which you are dressed as a maitresse, taken from the back with legs apart and the chest slightly turned."
"And…?"
"In ten minutes they received seven hundred twenty-seven mail: then, in half an hour, everything was blocked. Now they are upgrading the server: as soon as they will fix it, he’s going to forward us everything, so we’ll have an idea of the impact you've had on the web.
"Milena couldn’t contain a smile of contentment.
"So they liked it?"
"To like is not the correct term, but as our German friend was saying, you have the gift of synthesis: you literally split."
"Wow!"
"And they published a picture that I would define really moderate; you can’t even see the nipples in it! I would say that this event deserves at least a toast. Luis! " Lisa called in a loud voice the boy, intent on cleaning the patio.
"Bring a bottle and two glasses. An ice bottle, please. "
If this had happened a year before, if someone had such a trimph on the internet at her expense, Lisa would have been in a bad mood for days: thinking about it, now she was completely surprised of her reaction. She was happy, very happy indeed: and her happiness grew seeing the sincere smile on Milena’s lips.
The days of Potsdam had become only a memory for good, so far in time and space. The project related to the testing of therapies had been abandoned after the occurrence of an unusual episode: Dr. Bohm was found by an assistant, on a Monday morning, lashed to the laboratory bench, he was completely naked, silenced by a device similar to horse’s bit, and he showed signs of torture on his body. Once he recovered from the shock, the doctor declared he had found some men, probably thieves, in the laboratory, and to have been immobilized by them. None leaned obviously complaint and no one wanted to deepen the matter: a few days later the laboratory was dismantled. Gunther himself, when he heard of the fact, asked no questions: Lisa’s glance was enough to understand that it had to be that way.
Luis arrived by the poolside, an ice bowl with a champagne bottle in one hand and glasses in the other one. He put everything on the table and silently walked away.
"Here," - said Lisa, "a toast to the future success of our new business partner!"
"To us, Lisa ..."
They clink their glasses, and happily drank the cold wine, lying side by side. You could read in their smiling eyes the deep complicity that was joining them.
"You know," - said Milena – this afternoon my sister arrives, with the little boy ... "
"Ha ha. I swear, I can’t wait to see him. Sure, you’ll have to start to act as a mom... "
"Yeah ..."
"... Breastfeeding ..."
"Exactly ..."
"... And maybe we'll have a little less time for us ..."
"I think I still have milk for a colony of children, for that matter."
She moved the immense cup of her bikini, showing an extraordinary big nipple: Then, squeezing it between her fingers, she made a spurt that ended down into the pool. Lisa smiled.
"You know that you can’t make a gesture like that without paying the consequences ..." Milena smiled.
"Of course I know; otherwise I wouldn’t have done it." She definitely took off the bikini, stood up and held out her hands to the other girl, still lying on the sunbed.
"Come on, we have the whole morning just for us."
Lisa hesitated: she was enjoying that brief moment of excitement, a slight tingling in the legs and the sight of Milena above her. She was admiring her body, her superhuman body, as Dr. Bohm said that day: the huge breasts swollen from the stretched skin and the silky appearance, the blue veins that ran through it, those huge meaty areolae, with the erect nipples in the center. Their abundance, their consistency, so soft and warm, the noise they made, banging against each other when they made love. Everything was there, in front of her and for her.
How this was possible, it was not known. Really, it was probably the inscrutable will of a deity. Eros, son of the case, perhaps.
Lisa stood up, clasped Milena at her hips and pulled her to herself, squeezing her breasts between them, closed her eyes and kissed her deeply. They walked, hugged each other, up the stairs to the cool darkness of their bedroom.

The End

2011-01-23T23:31:00.000+01:00

So, my friends, the story has come to the end.
I enjoyed this experience, that allowed me to share with you all my work, and at the same time I hope you enjoyed my novel.
While writing it, I was feeling that the main characters of Lisa and Milena were growing, and now that it's over in a way I regret not to have written more about their passion. this is the reason why I'm planning to go on with a second part of it, kind of a sequel.
I'm not asking you anything more that to give me your opinion and your suggestions, your support and, of course, your critics.
As a payback, if you want, I will send you my novel in a pdf format, just to thank you all for your help.
Thanks again, Flower.