Vicky was put under during her injections which, the doctor assured her, were not painful. The anesthesia was simply to allow her body to rest as the injection did its work, as the growth process, itself, could be uncomfortable. Vicky nodded off, her head light and dreamy as the drugs put her to sleep, driving away the fear she felt, knowing that she’d be waking up with ridiculous tits.
***
Vicky awoke, groggy and unsure of where she was. The doctor stood nearby, looking down at her, a mask over his face and sanitary cap on his head.
“Hello, sweetie,” he said, shining a light into her eyes.
He nodded to himself and asked, “How do you feel?”
Vicky’s tongue felt dry and her throat scratchy, but she croaked, “Tired.”
“Just rest easy,” he said, and put a small tube to her lips.
Vicky sucked at the tube and tasted clean, cool water.
“We’ll keep you here for a couple of days. We’ll need to restrain your hands,” he said, “so that you aren’t tempted to touch your new melons. They can bruise easily these first couple of days. The nurse will keep checking in on you every few hours.”
Vicky felt frightened when she tried to raise her arms and legs but found them fastened to the bed by padded cuffs.
“Don’t go making a fuss,” the doctor said, pulling apart the gown she wore to expose her new tits, “It’s just for your safety.”
Vicky looked down, horrified at the size of her new, giant tits. She began to cry.
“We’ll just put you to sleep for a bit longer, honey,” he said, and pushed a needle into her arm.
***
Vicky came around again, pulling her tired mind out of the drug-induced sleep and looking blearily around the room. She was still in the bed, still restrained. Across the side rails of the bed, now, stretched a metal bar, atop the center of which was a mirror. Vicky saw herself in the mirror, topless, her large breasts nearly hiding her face. All she could see was the top of her head and her eyes over the mountains of her new tits.
Thirsty, she fumbled for the little tube by her head and sucked at the water. She was alone, awake, and she couldn’t move. Her head felt foggy, still, and so she lay, drifting in the haze, staring into the mirror at her naked tits.
After some time, the door to her room opened and a nurse came in, wearing a set of pale, blue scrubs. She rested her gloved hand on Vicky’s forehead, then asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Okay,” Vicky said, tiredly.
“They look great,” the nurse said.
Vicky didn’t think they were great.
“You need to do your business?” the nurse asked.
Vicky did. The nurse unstrapped her, helped her out of bed, and then aided her. Afterward, Vicky felt ashamed that the nurse had to wipe her naked ass and twat for her, before she put her back in the bed and restrained her again.
“Your dad’s office sent you over some stuff, to keep you entertained, while you’re recovering.”
“Stuff?” Vicky asked, weakly.
The drugs in her system still made her feel woozy and tired, so it was difficult to think.
“A care package with instructions,” the nurse explained.
She opened a package and removed a tablet, which she propped up on a rolling table next to Vicky’s bed. Next, she settled a pair of headphones over Vicky’s ears. Then, she pushed a red gag ball into Vicky’s mouth, securing it around her head as Vicky protested in a series of hoarse grunts and whimpers. Lastly, she lifted Vicky’s gown and began to rub a generous amount of medical jelly onto Vicky’s fuckhole. Vicky continued to make squeaks and grunts, but the nurse ignored her. Finally, satisfied that Vicky’s cunt was sufficiently lubricated, the nurse pushed a fat, pink phallus into it, making Vicky moan and struggle.
Vicky looked at the nurse, pleading with her eyes for some sort of explanation, for help.
“Just settle in,” she said, “You’ll probably enjoy this. Not that it really matters. We got a nice donation to the institute, which is all that really matters.”
The woman turned on the tablet, tapped the screen a few times, and then left the room. A video on the tablet began to play, while in the headphones, a low tone began to play, like a high-pitched whine. The screen filled with static that lasted for several minutes, during which the tone changed in pitch several times, then the pitch continued to rise, until Vicky felt like her eyeballs were vibrating in her head. She groaned into the gag, and then the tone stopped, the screen went black.
Vicky felt sweat on her forehead. The screen began to play a new video, in which a title card in bold, white letters rolled up from the bottom. It read, “Modern Femininity: Lessons for the Forward-Thinking Bimbo.”
Vicky groaned again and tugged at the restraints. The tone in the earphones began once more, low this time. The title card faded away and a new scene faded in, showing a pretty blonde girl with large breasts. Her breasts were naked, and she smiled widely. The girl stared into the camera, seemingly at Vicky, happy. For a moment, Vicky watched the girl just look at her, feeling that the image was becoming a bit creepy. Then, a man’s hand slapped the girl across the face. The toy in Vicky’s twat began to vibrate, making Vicky buck at the unexpected pleasure.
The girl was not smiling now. The man slapped her across the face again. The toyed purred in Vicky’s cunt. The man slapped one of the girl’s naked tits and the girl sniffled. A tear rolled down her cheek. He slapped her other breast. The toy vibrated.
The man slapped the girl again and, this time, she said, “Stop it!”
The toy stopped vibrating and discharged a shock into Vicky’s cunt. Vicky screeched into the gag ball and bucked her hips, trying to dislodge the toy. It didn’t work.