Nekroz
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jan 8, 2021
- Messages
- 190
- Points
- 83
Tell me what ya think please.
The floor did not make for a good resting place. It was hard, made of stone, and nowhere near as comfortable as my bed. And whatever was laying on top of me made sleeping even worse. I was almost too glad to be rid of it.
Then I opened my eyes and discovered the shocking truth. The great weight that irked and irritated me all through the night was not something I could remove or be rid of. At least not without the help of a professional surgeon and a hefty sum of money.
Attached to my chest were the two biggest breasts I had ever seen. They were so large that the word big felt as if it did them injustice. They were also - I dare repeat - attached to my chest. The giant hills of flesh were mine and mine alone. Which just wasn't right. I didn't have breasts like these, my chest was much more on the modest side... Wasn't it? Suddenly the answer seemed unclear to me. Foggy. Like the memory of my chest in times past was blocked by a wall. It was an incredibly strange feeling and more than a little frustrating.
My frustration grew when I tried to get up. It was unusually difficult. Instead of just pushing myself to my feet, I had to contend with my bosom for space. The two marshmallow soft mountains had to be lifted and pushed forward off my legs. Then used as a support so that I could stand without having them pull me back down. The hardest part of it all was lifting my chest off the ground. Each one of the tremendous mammaries felt as if it weighed a ton. My back practically screamed for relief by the time I was actually standing up proper. Walking was even worse.
I didn't dare attempt to test the strength of my back any further. Again I sat. Though this time not on the floor. A stone chair served as my place of respite. It also gave me the perfect chance to look at my room. Which I quickly discovered was not my room. My bed, my chairs, my desk, and even my posters were all gone. Replaced by stone chairs and a barred window. There was also a stone table that sat in between the two unforgivably uncomfortable stone chairs. It made for a good spot to place my breasts and give my back and legs some respite.
While I recovered my strength I tried to remember what my room looked like. The task seemed beyond me at the moment. Details and descriptions failed me, my only certainty was that my room did have a bed. It was maybe large, maybe small. Either way it was a comfortable bed and that was what mattered. The truth however was that my inability to remember simple things was a bit concerning.
As a little test I tried to recall my name.
"Ruth Raven."
That was not my name. Not even close. But it was the only name that I could remember. Anything concrete about my identity or past completely alluded me. Well anything other than the fact that I did indeed have one. That I knew for certain.
My raven black hair and giant breasts made me doubt that certainty. Both were traits completely foreign to me. My vague and fuzzy memory held no vague and fuzzy memories of the two giants latched onto my chest. Nor did it have the feeling of my hair being black. I was pretty sure that my scalp was the home to a fine mane of blonde hair that cascaded down my back. Or went down to my shoulders. Or to my ears? The length varied and the colors slightly shifted. My memory of a inconsistent past that never remained consistently inconsistent was of no use to me. Not at the present time it seemed.
As such my life began anew.
Gingerly I grabbed both of my boobs and attempted to lift them. Both my arms couldn't wrap around one, much less two. They were too massive for me to handle. I was left with no choice but to lean on the wall and squeeze out the doorless doorway. It was a difficult thing to do with a bosom so all encompassing. Each boob had to be shoved through separately followed by me. It was incredibly inconvenient and tiring. As soon as I was through I lowered myself and leaned back against the wall.
Two things stood out to me then. My clothes were not quite right. They weren't anything I remembered owning or really having ever seen. A red vest with its front blown wide open by my peerless globes. Maroon boots that went all the way up my 'healthy' thighs, and a red necklace.
It was a whole lot of red. Almost too much really.
The second thing that stood out to me was how much colder it was outside
the room. Yet at the same time it was suffocatingly warm. The two polar opposite temperatures ravaged my nerves until I forced myself back inside. As soon as I was within the confines of the room the temperature was normal again. It was instantaneous too. Which was definitely not normal and required explanation.
I searched the room for that explanation. Something told me that the answer to my myriad of questions had to be within the walls of this room. Hidden no doubt, but in a room this small with so little in the way of furnishings there was only a few places it could be hidden. Unfortunately those places were hard for me to check with my breasts in the way. My collosal bosom got in the way at every turn. Its weight made maneuvering around the room a nightmare. The size of my torso mounted mounds meant that they would almost always get in my way without fail.
The only bright side to my search of the room was that there was so very few spots to search. Within a few minutes the treasure I sought was located under one of the chairs. It was a brown book titled in a language unknown to me. Strangely its contents were written in English. Ye Olde English but still English. The book - written by a Gilliam Shakehook - taught on the subject of magic. Speaking of it as if the arcane was one hundred percent real. I believed it to be udder madness until incidentally flipping to a page that spoke about arcane imbalance. An ailment that only effected those with large stores of arcane energy. They would be pestered by a feeling of being both hot and cold exactly as I had. The only way to effectively deal with such an issue was learning how to balance ones internal arcane energy. Or hiding behind certain runes for the rest of their life.
I looked at one of the Runes the book displayed and found it on the wall right beside the door. It was a circle with three one third circles within and a dot at the center. But helping with arcane imbalance wasn't the only thing that particular rune did. It was also designed to keep out monsters.
The implications of which were quite disturbing.
Dutifully I continued to read the book, scouring its pages for instructions on how to balance arcane energies. A countless number of pages later I found exactly what I had been searching for. It was essentially meditating but a tad bit more magically involved. Not only would I need to rid myself of any thoughts of the going on around me but I would also need to look inward. Find my store of arcane energy and tame it, letting it spread through my body. Then I'd have to actually use it somehow.
"Well here goes nothing."
The floor did not make for a good resting place. It was hard, made of stone, and nowhere near as comfortable as my bed. And whatever was laying on top of me made sleeping even worse. I was almost too glad to be rid of it.
Then I opened my eyes and discovered the shocking truth. The great weight that irked and irritated me all through the night was not something I could remove or be rid of. At least not without the help of a professional surgeon and a hefty sum of money.
Attached to my chest were the two biggest breasts I had ever seen. They were so large that the word big felt as if it did them injustice. They were also - I dare repeat - attached to my chest. The giant hills of flesh were mine and mine alone. Which just wasn't right. I didn't have breasts like these, my chest was much more on the modest side... Wasn't it? Suddenly the answer seemed unclear to me. Foggy. Like the memory of my chest in times past was blocked by a wall. It was an incredibly strange feeling and more than a little frustrating.
My frustration grew when I tried to get up. It was unusually difficult. Instead of just pushing myself to my feet, I had to contend with my bosom for space. The two marshmallow soft mountains had to be lifted and pushed forward off my legs. Then used as a support so that I could stand without having them pull me back down. The hardest part of it all was lifting my chest off the ground. Each one of the tremendous mammaries felt as if it weighed a ton. My back practically screamed for relief by the time I was actually standing up proper. Walking was even worse.
I didn't dare attempt to test the strength of my back any further. Again I sat. Though this time not on the floor. A stone chair served as my place of respite. It also gave me the perfect chance to look at my room. Which I quickly discovered was not my room. My bed, my chairs, my desk, and even my posters were all gone. Replaced by stone chairs and a barred window. There was also a stone table that sat in between the two unforgivably uncomfortable stone chairs. It made for a good spot to place my breasts and give my back and legs some respite.
While I recovered my strength I tried to remember what my room looked like. The task seemed beyond me at the moment. Details and descriptions failed me, my only certainty was that my room did have a bed. It was maybe large, maybe small. Either way it was a comfortable bed and that was what mattered. The truth however was that my inability to remember simple things was a bit concerning.
As a little test I tried to recall my name.
"Ruth Raven."
That was not my name. Not even close. But it was the only name that I could remember. Anything concrete about my identity or past completely alluded me. Well anything other than the fact that I did indeed have one. That I knew for certain.
My raven black hair and giant breasts made me doubt that certainty. Both were traits completely foreign to me. My vague and fuzzy memory held no vague and fuzzy memories of the two giants latched onto my chest. Nor did it have the feeling of my hair being black. I was pretty sure that my scalp was the home to a fine mane of blonde hair that cascaded down my back. Or went down to my shoulders. Or to my ears? The length varied and the colors slightly shifted. My memory of a inconsistent past that never remained consistently inconsistent was of no use to me. Not at the present time it seemed.
As such my life began anew.
Gingerly I grabbed both of my boobs and attempted to lift them. Both my arms couldn't wrap around one, much less two. They were too massive for me to handle. I was left with no choice but to lean on the wall and squeeze out the doorless doorway. It was a difficult thing to do with a bosom so all encompassing. Each boob had to be shoved through separately followed by me. It was incredibly inconvenient and tiring. As soon as I was through I lowered myself and leaned back against the wall.
Two things stood out to me then. My clothes were not quite right. They weren't anything I remembered owning or really having ever seen. A red vest with its front blown wide open by my peerless globes. Maroon boots that went all the way up my 'healthy' thighs, and a red necklace.
It was a whole lot of red. Almost too much really.
The second thing that stood out to me was how much colder it was outside
the room. Yet at the same time it was suffocatingly warm. The two polar opposite temperatures ravaged my nerves until I forced myself back inside. As soon as I was within the confines of the room the temperature was normal again. It was instantaneous too. Which was definitely not normal and required explanation.
I searched the room for that explanation. Something told me that the answer to my myriad of questions had to be within the walls of this room. Hidden no doubt, but in a room this small with so little in the way of furnishings there was only a few places it could be hidden. Unfortunately those places were hard for me to check with my breasts in the way. My collosal bosom got in the way at every turn. Its weight made maneuvering around the room a nightmare. The size of my torso mounted mounds meant that they would almost always get in my way without fail.
The only bright side to my search of the room was that there was so very few spots to search. Within a few minutes the treasure I sought was located under one of the chairs. It was a brown book titled in a language unknown to me. Strangely its contents were written in English. Ye Olde English but still English. The book - written by a Gilliam Shakehook - taught on the subject of magic. Speaking of it as if the arcane was one hundred percent real. I believed it to be udder madness until incidentally flipping to a page that spoke about arcane imbalance. An ailment that only effected those with large stores of arcane energy. They would be pestered by a feeling of being both hot and cold exactly as I had. The only way to effectively deal with such an issue was learning how to balance ones internal arcane energy. Or hiding behind certain runes for the rest of their life.
I looked at one of the Runes the book displayed and found it on the wall right beside the door. It was a circle with three one third circles within and a dot at the center. But helping with arcane imbalance wasn't the only thing that particular rune did. It was also designed to keep out monsters.
The implications of which were quite disturbing.
Dutifully I continued to read the book, scouring its pages for instructions on how to balance arcane energies. A countless number of pages later I found exactly what I had been searching for. It was essentially meditating but a tad bit more magically involved. Not only would I need to rid myself of any thoughts of the going on around me but I would also need to look inward. Find my store of arcane energy and tame it, letting it spread through my body. Then I'd have to actually use it somehow.
"Well here goes nothing."
