Silicon Paris, Part III

It was his computer that gave it away. Paris had been tottering through the living room about to struggle up the stairs, her giant breast implants bursting forth from her strappy sleeping top, making it look tiny when in fact it was XXXL, when she saw the glow of his laptop, where he’d left it open.

She waddled over, tits swaying heavily back and forth, (they weighed around 11lbs. Each.) and sat down heavily in front of it. She moved the seat back, so that her breasts weren’t resting on the table, and leaned forwards to close it down. Her tits bulged gently into the edge of the table, as they so often did when she tried to do anything, these days. They were always in the way. And it always turned her the fuck on. 

She moved the cursor to the “shut down” button, only to see there was a website that was minimized in the bottom right. She knew she shouldn’t look. A person’s internet history was a private and sacred thing. But one little peek wouldn’t hurt. Her heart started to pound as she clicked the link, and the window opened up.

Paris’ eyes widened in the dim glowing light of the screen as she stared at the images on the screen.

On it was a parade of women with the most giant breast implants Paris had ever seen. Like, obscenely large. Disgustingly large. Bigger than Paris had even thought humanly possible. Not that she’d done much research on how big breasts could really get, with the help of modern surgery, but these women…they were sick. Their tits were beyond enormous, regularly spreading out, down over their belly buttons, sticking out so widely either side of the poor women’s torsos, hiding almost their entire upper bodies. Who would do something like to themselves? It was practically mutilation, these tits were so huge! Why would anyone want to be that big? And how did they even get around with chests that ridiculously huge?

Paris looked down at her own obscenely big tits, and realized for the first time how pathetically small they were. These women onscreen, with chests that would be legitimately described as a disability, these were the women that Matthew was really interested in. These were the women that touched him deeply, where his darkest, most primal desires lived. These women were perfect.

And she, Paris, was just a tiny little girl in comparison. Her gigantic, 5,000cc breasts, that turned so many heads and that were the biggest tits anyone she’d ever met had ever seen, were not enough for the one man that mattered to her. She looked down at her titanic bust, that was pouring out of her huge top like it was a tiny child’s garment, her bust that was so huge, most men who saw it fantasized about it for weeks afterwards (not that Paris would ever know), and all she saw were those tiny, flat little B-cups that she used to possess. She saw herself as she knew Matthew really saw her – as a flat chested waif that would never truly satisfy her. Looking at these freakishly huge women on his screen, Paris realized that is who Matthew truly desired. And it was who she needed to become, to make him – and her – truly happy.

There was also the fact that as much as these pictures repulsed her, a part of her – a small, but powerful part – found the idea of growing bigger still very, very appealing. She already felt so much more powerful and in control since growing such an engorged pair of tits, and the thought of increasing that – as scary as it was – was also, on a deep, almost subconscious level, very thrilling. There was also the fact that she could almost see in her mind’s eye the look on Matthew’s face when he saw her with these tits. She could barely imagine the look of shock and joy that would cross his visage when she appeared with tits like these…these crazy women.

And so she scheduled another appointment with Dr. Smith. She knew she had to see him in person. He’d done her last operation, but with raised eyebrows. What she was going to ask for this time – well, that was going to take some persuasion. Luckily she knew what turned him on, and she was prepared to use it.

**

Paris squeezed herself into her huge, tight white button shirt, and stood in front of the mirror. She grabbed some gum, popped it into her mouth, and admired her pigtails. Her black bra was struggling beneath the shirt, barely able to contain her stupendous jugs, which were about twice the size of her head, each. Her shirt was straining to stay buttoned up, which was exactly as she’d planned it. She got a lot of her clothes tailor-made now, and had gotten her measurements, then changed them all by a couple of digits to be a little too small, to give that extra bulging, massive effect.

She turned to the side, her fat tits moving heavily, and admired her profile. Her tiny pencil skirt emphasised her plump ass and slim waist, giving her an outrageous hourglass figure. With her huge black heels, she looked like a massive, pumped up, over-inflated school uniform Britney from the Hit Me Baby, One More Time video. She knew that was Dr. Smith’s jam, as he’d hinted as much one time when she was going under and he thought she couldn’t hear. When he saw her looking like this, he was going to do whatever she asked. The sense of power and control was intoxicating.

As soon as she entered the surgery, the look on the receptionist’s face was a picture.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” It seemed to say. But she was a professional, so instead she swallowed her disgust (or more likely, Paris thought, her jealousy) and instead asked: “Who are you here to see today?”

Paris tottered forwards, almost overbalancing on her massive heels, her breasts thrust out like basket balls in front of her, her shirt struggling to stay done up, the buttons threatening to burst open at any moment. She leaned on the counter, her fat tits bulging down into the desktop. 

“Dr. Smith.” She smiled. It felt good to rest her tits for a while. Being this big did have its drawbacks, few as they were. 

“Oh, I don’t have anything in the diary for now.”

“Tell him it’s Paris. It’s very important.”

She frowned, and dialled through. Paris chewed ostentatiously on her gum, getting into character. The bigger the bimbo she was, the more Smith would go for her. It was so fun diving into her sluttier, sexier nature. It almost felt more comfortable here.

The slim, terse receptionist looked up, surprisingly puritanical for someone who worked on the front desk of a plastic surgery clinic.

“He’ll see you now.”

“That’s what I thought.” Paris thought to herself, smiling politely at the receptionist, before turning to go, knocking a pot of pencils onto the floor with her gigantic tits. 

“Oops! How clumsy of me.”

**

Stepping into Dr. Smith’s office, Paris took a deep breath. She wanted her tits to swell as large as they humanly could when he first saw her. First impressions, and all that.

“Good afternoon, Paris, what can I – oh. Hello.”

She could feel the tension in the air as Dr. Smith observed her giant body, clasped in this hugely tight school girl uniform with the tight skirt and the even tighter top.

She twirled one of her pigtails, chewed her gum, and put on her best affected bimbo voice.

“Like, I was just wondering. You’re the best in the business and…I know I’m big, but I want to be…bigger.” As she did this, she breathed in, arching her back a little, and the buttons on the front of her shirt started to strain. She was going to pop them any second now if she carried on.

Smith’s eyes practically burst out of his head.

“B-bigger? But you’re already enormous! Look at you! You’re so…so-“

“Full?” Paris replied, breathing and arching so that her shirt strained further. Large gaps appeared between the buttons, the fabric stretching. They were going to pop any moment.

“Yes!” Cried Smith, clearly glad he was behind his desk so that his raging boner was concealed. “You are literally full, there’s no more room in your implants. 5,000ccs is the max they can take.”

Paris had expected such resistance, and had a plan. She stepped slowly towards him, her tits wobbling and shaking as she moved. She arched her back again, straining the buttons once more. They were shaking with pressure.

“But you’re the best in the business. You must have something to make me…bigger.” As she said this, a button burst off her top, firing out onto Dr. Smith’s desk. A large cavern of cleavage became visible though the new gap in her shirt. Her gigantic tits wobbled beneath.

Smith gulped. “I-I can’t…it wouldn’t be…ethical.”

“You know I’m good for it.” Paris purred, reaching Smith’s desk. She arched her back, breathing in deeply, and burst another button, revealing a massive bulge of cleavage at the front of her shirt. From inside her tits, she pulled a wad of twenties, secreted there earlier for effect.

It worked.

“Of course I know you’re good for it!” Smith managed. “But the health risks are…aren’t you big enough already?”

“What kind of a surgeon are you?” Purred Paris, leaning down now, exposing her huge canyon of cleavage for the poor doctor to gaze into. “Don’t you want to make this…more?”

“I…I…” He managed, but Paris was round the other side of the desk, kneeling down next to him. She rested both breasts on his boner, which was hard and protruding, as he looked down into her impossible bust.

“I think you do, doctor.” She whispered. “I think you want to make me your personal experiment, let me get so. Much. Bigger.”

Smith gulped, and his boner intensified.

“Bodies don’t lie.” Paris smiled, her eyes flicking down to Smith’s crotch. “You want this. Nearly as much as I do.”

Smith leaned back, relenting.

“I…I do. I’ve never met someone so hungry to get bigger. I…there is something special. Something new. An experimental expander that theoretically has…no limit.”

Paris’ heart started to pound, buried beneath all that silicon.

“Mmm, that sounds exactly what the doctor ordered.”

“Yes, well it’ll take a while to procure, but…I can get it for you. Are you sure Mr. Duvernes would be ok with this?”

“Are you kidding?” Laughed Paris. “He’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

And with that, the deal was sealed. Paris was going to enter the next stage of her growth. And she couldn’t have been more excited. 

**

Sitting in the operating theatre, much later, Paris was feeling apprehensive. Was this really the right thing to do? She was already so big? Was there a point where she was just going a bit crazy, and should stop growing? Then she thought of those images on Matthew’s computer screen, and knew she was doing the right thing. For him as well as for her. She wanted to be bigger. Much bigger. She needed it.

She’d given Dr. Smith the specs she required, once his new expanders were in stock. He’d raised eyebrows again at her size requirements, but she had pushed her humungous boobs gently but forcefully into him, and said “Imagine how good this’ll feel afterwards.” He immediately relented.

As Paris began to fall asleep due to the anaesthetic, she looked at her huge breasts, which now seemed so small, and dreamed of the goddess she was going to become…

She awoke much later, and much, much bigger. Paris looked up at her tits, and almost drooled. They were exactly what she wanted. Exactly what Matthew wanted. And she couldn’t wait to show them off!

**

After her recovery, Paris snuck home, every movement a challenge, excited to surprised Matthew. She didn’t know how convincing her lie would be about a work trip this time, given what she’d done last time, but she knew Matthew wouldn’t suspect she’d grow again. He had no idea she’d seen his laptop, and so wouldn’t know she knew how big he really liked tits to be.

Everything was so difficult with her newly giant breast implants, but Paris managed to get a car all the way back to their huge house, and despite great difficulty, got her keys in the door, and pulled it open.

Matthew was there, sitting on the steps, watching the front door. 

“I knew it. You did it again, didn’t you?” He said. It was hard to tell his emotions from the tone of his voice. It was suppressed and calm. But underneath, something was raging.

Paris had her back to him. She looked down at her new body. Had she gone too far?

“I…yes. I wanted to be…like them.”

“Like who?” The reply was quiet. Intense.

“The girls…on your laptop.”

“The…what? Oh no. You didn’t. You couldn’t-“

At this point, Paris turned around, and the full impact of what she’d done to herself became clear.

Paris had stuffed her breasts full of 10,000ccs of silicone, which made her tits the most enormous fake tits Matthew had ever seen. They bulged out of her straining t-shirt an entire foot, and were so wide they were visible from behind. Her t-shirt, an XXXXXXL custom-made monster was still barely able to cover up her preposterous mounds, which were so stuff with silicone they weighed 22lbs each. They hung down to below her belly button, and were so heavy she could barely stand. Her back already hurt, and everything about her was freakish now. She hadn’t been outside in public since the operation was finished, except to walk to the cab, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without people thinking she was a monstrously large-titted bimbo, who only cared about giant boobs and nothing else. She started to wonder if that analysis was, in fact, true.

“Well, what do you-“

Before she could say anything, Matthew was on her, tearing at her t-shirt, trying to get the impossible mammaries beneath. He was almost drooling.

“A-are these, triple Z?” He asked.

“Yep.” She beamed, so glad that he was taking this the right way. She really thought she’d gone too far this time. Was she too big-titted, too much of a bimbo to be a real person any more?

“They’re the hottest things I’ve ever seen.” He murmured, pulling her t-shirt up over her head, as she lifted her arms to help him, giggling all the while.

The bra that supported her ludicrous new 10,000cc breasts was a work of art on its own. It looked like a small suspension bridge, hefting these two gigantic boulders, keeping them in place with straining, stretching fabric.

Matthew leaned in to her preposterous tits, which were so big they were hard to describe using household objects. They were roughly the size of overinflated party balloons, about four time the size of Paris’ head, and they erupted about a foot in front of her, and bulged out either side of her. Matthew hugged her tight, and she realized he was trying to reach around the back and undo the clasps of her bra. But her tits were too big – they impeded his progress, his reach wasn’t enough to stretch to her back. So she arched her back to undo the clasps herself – and her bra exploded open.

It was already such a stuffed garment, it was hardly surprising, but Matthew was delighted and blisteringly turned on, all the same. It really couldn’t have gone any better. Paris being so big that even her ginormous bra couldn’t support her stupendous mams was enough to send Matthew over the edge, and he just fondled, caressed, sucked and licked her stupendous balloons. He couldn’t get enough of them. Paris could barely feel his touch on her tits, her skin was so stretched and warped from the insane quantities of silicon pumped into her, but seeing Matthew lose his mind over her wild new body was incredibly arousing for her, and she quickly grew wet as he lavished praise all over her giant body, and fucked her there and then. Getting to the floor was a challenge, as her boobs were such an impediment to general movement, but the way they wobbled and shook as he fucked her was such a turn on to Matthew that he came in about 20 seconds. He soon recharged and fucked her again, and again, and again, gaping and marvelling over her tits all the while.

As her pussy and her body was filled up with and covered in cum, a huge smile spread over Paris’ face. Not that Matthew could see it – from where he was fucking her, her tits completely obscured it. But she was smiling. From ear to ear. This had been the best decision of her life.

If only it was the last time she would ever grow.

But that was not to be the case.

To BE concluded…

***

Last part is coming soon, check back to find out how big Paris gets (spoiler alert: it’s insane).

If you enjoyed this giant breast implants breast expansion story and want to read hundreds more, you can sign up to our member’s package and read to your heart’s content. We also do breast expansion audio stories, read by our stable of fantastic voice actors, and beautifully edited with growth SFX.

You can see our latest members’ stories here!

Or just subscribe and dive in 🙂

This was written on commission for one of my readers – if you ever want your own breast expansion story written for you, get in touch with me and tell me your idea. I’ve written thousands of BE stories and my rates are pretty reasonable 🙂

Get in touch here!

See you next time,

Trilon