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Mara bolted down the hall, shouting “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” with every step. Each frantic footstep echoed down the dim, silent corridor that was almost drowned out by the heavy, rhythmic slapping of her spirit-engorged breasts slapping against her chest. Each impact sending a jolt through your torso as a reminder of their unnatural weight. The thin fabric of her button-up shirt, now stretched to its absolute limit, groans in protest with every step she took. Behind her was a small swarm of spirits she had accidentally disturbed whilst exploring her college campus after hours and as she ran down the hallways, shoes clomping against the tile floor, more and more of these ghosts came out to ‘play’. BLORP, BLORP A tingle ran down her spine as each of her tits suddenly grew cold and gained a few cup sizes. This sudden growth sent the top button of her shirt flying through the air and skeetering across the floor away into the darkness. She could feel the other buttons straining too, their threads screaming under the immense pressure of the spectral mass they contained. She dared not look down, but she could feel the swollen weight of her boobs pulling her forward like a cumbersome pendulum which made her desperate escape clumsy at best. “Stop that!” She shouted back at the wisp-like beings chasing her before muttering under her breath. “I should've never taken this bet…”
She was known on campus for being ‘that weird girl who's into the paranormal’ and the fact she adamantly claimed to have seen spirits in some of the university's buildings didn't help her case. Apparently a group of peers in her applied quantum dynamics class were sick and tired of her constant babbling about it that they dared her to obtain proof of her claims. And being a woman of science she couldn't say no to that so on a night where she didn't have classes the following day she snuck into the science building to gather irrefutable proof of her sightings… She just didn't expect there to be so many of them hiding throughout the building.
She bounded down the stairs, wincing as her engorged, unsupported breasts wobbled and bounced freely in her ill-fitting top. She just had to make it out of the building and the ghosts hopefully wouldn't be able to follow her outside. But with every passed classroom and lecture hall more and more curious spirits joined the swarm, and as more managed to add themselves to her bust the added weight slowed her pace only allowing more to catch up to her. “I’m almost there!” She exclaimed as she turned around the corner and saw the exit doors at the end of a long stretch of hallway. One by one in rapid succession three chilly presences pass her ear causing her to flinch. The trio of giggling spirits converge on her phasing through her shirt and sinking directly into the soft flesh of your breasts. BLORP! BLORP! BLORP! Each impish ghoul added more weight to her breasts, and the near ceaseless assault of their bone chilling touch as they passed through her sensitive flesh caused her nipples to stay uncomfortably hard and swollen as they were jammed into her now ill-fitting shirt. “HUFF HUFF HUFF Just- a- few more-” The exit was mere feet away as Mara stumbled forward.
The glowing green light of the exit light was a beacon of hope, giving Mara the little push she needed to make it out of this. Adrenaline surged through her weary body, the muscles in her legs begging for a moment of rest. Ignoring the screaming protest of her legs and the agonizing slap of her colossal tits against her ribs she pushed onwards. The wobbling, swollen mass of flesh had grown so massive that they eclipsed the view of her feet, making each step a blind and hazardous gamble. And it was a gamble she lost as her still growing, ectoplasm filled teats made her top and front heavy changing her center of gravity enough where one wrong step would result in- THUD Boob first she landed hard onto the tile floor with a loud slap of her tits. She reached for the door, doing her best to crawl as she dragged her breasts along the ground beneath her but was swallowed whole by the swarm which dragged her further back into the building.
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Mr. Whittaker paced back and forth in the front of his applied quantum dynamics class as he took attendance. His voice a monotone monolith as he went down his list one by one without an ounce of emotion. “Mason Geller?” A mumbled ‘here’ was called out in response. “Abigail Gildon?”
“Hey,” Sasha leaned in and whispered to her group of friends while Mr. Whittaker droned on in the background. “Anyone seen that weird girl? Mara I think her name was?”
“No,” Jake shook his head at the blonde girl causing the rest of the group to join in with him, “I haven’t seen her since we last had class. So… Tuesday?”
“Darn,” Sasha huffed out a sigh, “I wanted to see what ‘proof’ she was going to bring in to show us but…” She turned her torso so she was facing the front of the class as she closed out her thoughts. “Guess she got cold feet. At least we don’t have to deal with that weirdo today.”
“Mara Graves?” Mr Whittaker called out. “Mara Graves?!” He paused again before marking her as absent. But little did he or anyone else for that matter know that she was a lot closer than they thought. If one were to head out into the hall and make their way to the beat up door on the first floor that led to the basement and place their ear upon the metal door they would hear faint, echoed moans. Not of spirits, though they would find them down there if they bothered to check, but of their missing peer Mara Graves who had been dragged down there the night prior.
Illuminated by the occasional glow of spirits that popped free from the wall of flesh one could make out that these were the breasts of the missing girl, titanic in nature and housing an entire colony of mischievous little spirits. Their soft, pliant surface presses firmly against the four concrete walls, the floor, and the low ceiling, leaving no empty space. The skin is stretched taut over the spirit-infused masses which are eerily cold to the touch.The only break in this seamless, overwhelming expanse, poking through tightly pressed together cleavage of said breasts was Mara’s head. Her face a mask of agonized ecstasy, her cheeks flushed a rosy red against her pale, sweat-slicked skin. Her honey colored hair a chaotic halo around her head, plastered to her forehead and temples. Stray strands, damp from the musky, stale air cling to her cheeks and neck. Her eyes are open wide, forced to stare upwards from the ceaseless pleasure while tears stream from the corners and trace clean paths on her grim face. Her mouth agape as she emitted a constant incoherent scream made up of choked sobs, desperate screams, and shuddering moans which echoed slightly in the suffocatingly tight space she was trapped in. The cold, incessant pleasure she is being subjected to is a relentless torture, a constant, overwhelming sensation that has shattered her ability to form words or coherent thoughts, leaving her trapped in a state of perpetual, torturous rapture.
But why would they look for Mara? For them it was just another day of classes with nothing out of the ordinary. And her tortured, orgasmic screams sounded like faded moans of the dead, muffled by the thick metal door which led to the basement. No, poor Mara was trapped down there with her eerie company until the Janitor needed something from down in the basement.