Dr. Hooters

by:

DrEnlarge@aol.com

© 1994





     Wham!

     The door slammed shut behind Jill Clayton, her willowy frame

slumpingdown in her chair.   In her plain black dress, she resembled Cher,

exceptwithout the pretty face and shapely figure.  "The Stick" was her

nicknamethroughout life, much to her dismay.

     "Bite my left one!" she shouts to the world, knowing no one would hear

her.  Grabbing her cold coffee, she entered the dark lab.

     Click.  A single light illuminated her desk space.  Beakers and test tubes

refracted the light in different colors, giving her desk top an almost church-

window like effect.  She sobbed slightly, looking up to the ceiling for

guidance.

     "All I want is some understanding and respect.  I've worked hard to get

where I am," Jill explained.  "For me, having my peers respect my research is

all I ever wanted.  But now..."

     Jill stopped short.  Julie Heatherwick, her office-mate, entered the lab

timidly.

     "Jilly?" Julie asked quietly.  "Are you mad?"

     "As a wet cat.  I should be heading that grant!" Jill demanded,

looking sad.

"I number-crunched for two years on the side, preparing to head this

department when Phil retired.  Why did they give it to you?" Jill asked, half-

knowing the answer.

     "Look, I'm sick of you blaming my success on my looks.  I am just as

committed to this department as you," Julie began.  She pointed a finger at

Jill, making her skin-tight evening gown move slightly over hersupple figure.

Her blonde hair fell down a bit into her face.

     "I know I know, I'm sorry," Jill sighed.  "It's just...I see them

staring at

you when you saunter down the hall.  I've heard the jokes about your figure

and how you could breast feed Europe.  And now, it's just easy to blame the

whole thing on you."

     Julie put her arm around Jill, squeezing her shoulder.  Jill glanced at

Julie's plump face and she even noticed Julie's ample cleavage protruding

slightly from her evening dress.  Julie sighed, making her chest creep out

just a bit more.

     "I understand.  What do you suggest I do?" Julie asked.

     "Wear a snowsuit to meetings, you silicon queen," Jill's subconscious

piped

up.  "Nothing you can do, Jules.  I just need some time to myself?" she

muttered.

     "I hear ya, hon.  I should get back to the party," Julie said, rising

to leave.

As she opened the door to leave, she asked if Jill would be joining them soon.

The silence answered her.

     Hours later, Jill continued to drown herself in her research.  Hoping

desperately that it would block out the hurt, she continued to lose herself in

her electron microscope.  Her latest batch of hormones had given her the

best results up to date, but they were nowhere near successful.  Who would

buy a drug that would make you just %.05 percent smarter?  The numbers

had to rise in order to make it viable.

     Removing the slide, she stared at the greasy spot on the glass.  Tears

almost formed in her eyes as she contemplated the fact that so much of her

life had been poured into a greasy spot, and she seemed light years from the

solution.  Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself together and walked to the

specimen table.  Just as she opened the cabinet, she noticed the reflection of

a light in the glass door.  Someone had left the gamma projector on.

     Spinning on her heels, something she's not worn for years, she

meandered over to the machine to kill it.  Then something sparked inside

her.

     "Gamma rays?" Jill grinned, thinking of the Incredible Hulk TV program

she'd grown up hating.  Her brother had tortured her by watching that show

each Sunday night, with her fighting to see PBS.  Then she paused.  Why not?

She'd tried everything else, hadn't she?

     ZZZAP.  It was over.  She removed the slide.  Slipped it under the

microscope.  At first, nothing happened.  Then, slowly, the brain cells began

to multiply.  Neuron production shot off the scale.  Jill grinned slightly.

This

may be it.  She waited three hours, then tested the sample.  It'd reproduced

cell matter 400%.   Another hybrid hormone showed up on the test, but Jill

barely looked at it.  Her guess had worked!

     Quickly she took a batch of the same substance and zapped in, turning up

the dosage to twice as much.  A speedy test showed the whole batch was

performing as expected.  Readying a needle with the batch, she approached

the lab rat, who just happened to be sleeping.

     "Wait," Jill thought.  "If I do this, and Julie and the others notice

it, who's

to say I'll even get the credit for this, as I should.  It'll probably be

put onto

Julie's padded shoulders so she'll look good for the cameras.  Let's put the

Stick in the corner until we need something else done," Jill said, getting red

faced.  "What do I have to lose?"

     Needles always made Jill queasy, but she forgot that point until just

after

she stuck her arm and pushed the plunger.







     * * *

     "The floor needs cleaning, and a little salt," Jill murmured as she raised

from the floor.  Spitting out the dust from her mouth, she walked to the

mirror.  "Four hours?" Jill whispered as she looked at her watch.  The sun

was peeking over the horizon outside the window.  In the mirror was a

disheveled woman, looking as if she'd slept in a hamper.

     "Oh my god!" Jill gasped.  She checked her arm.  Sure enough, there was

the puncture mark.  She really had done it.

     Finding a chair quickly,  she began to go over what had transpired.

Coming to the conclusion that she'd suffered a mild breakdown, she now

hoped that she'd not damaged herself by her actions.  After cleaning herself

up, she raced for the exit.

     Upon leaving the building and entering the fresh morning air, she ran

into Brendon Hill.  He was the typical early riser do-gooder with about 6

hairs left and a pocket protector to boot.  And on a Saturdays well.  She tried

to avoid him, but he couldn't help but notice her attire.

     "Is the party still going on?" Brendon asked.

     "Ummm...I fell asleep in my office," Jill explained.  She wished that

was all

that had happened.

     "I heard about the promotion.  I think you should have gotten it,"

Brendon continued.  "Did you ever find the answer to your temperature

differential in the subject chamber?"

     "No...well, maybe.  What if we tried lowering the pressure inside the

transfer chamber, thus lowering the need to consistently drop the

temperature.  The cells themselves might then undergo mitosis rapidly in

the..."Jill theorized, almost unaware of the hypothesis she was creating on the

stop.  And to her amazement, what she was saying was making perfect

sense.  A problem that had been plaguing the department for months was

literally falling from her lips, and she didn't even know much about the

situation.  As she looked at Brendon, she noticed right away that his

attention was focusing elsewhere.

     "...and I gather that if the value...Brendon?  What's the matter?"

Jill asked

puzzled.

     "I...ummm...well.  errr" Brendon stammered, turning beet red.  "My

goodness, is that the tit...time?"  He excused himself and stumbled off into

the building, looking back once at the stymied Jill.

     "I wonder what that was all about?" Jill murmured.  She began hurrying

to her car, but noticed something different in her walk.  Looking down, she

almost passed out again.

     "Holy Mary!" Jill exclaimed, feeling her chest.  Her fingers touched the

fabric of her dress, only now, a C-cupped size bust was lurking underneath

it!  She pulled away the neck of her dress.  Sure enough, there was a mass of

real breast flesh filling her A-cup bra to overflowing.

     "I have breasts!?!" Jill whispered, almost crying.  Then it hit her.

That's

not good.  This was not supposed to happen overnight.  She was 28.  Jill

thought back to just minutes before.  She'd looked in the mirror.  Washed

her face.  Brushed the lint from her dress.  No, there'd not been a bust there

when she did that...or was there?  She needed help.

     She bolted back inside and caught Brendon before he entered his office.

He looked flustered still, but ushered her into his office regardless.

     "What were you staring at, just then when we were talking?" Jill asked.

Brendon went candy red this time.

     "I was noticing your dress.  It seemed to have been...umm...moving in

your upper regions," Brendon stammered.  She could almost feel the heat

from his embarrassment.  He cracked under the pressure and spun around in

his chair to attend to a computational equation on the blackboard.  Jill stood

quietly for a second, then started to pursue her investigation.  As she

reached to turn Brendon around, her eye wandered to the blackboard.

Instantly, she smiled and grabbed and erasure, wiping away a large portion

of the equation.

     "Hey Jill!" Brendon said, turning to look at her.

     "You did this all wrong.  Look, if you take the variance of

mercury..."Jill

dictated, barely pausing between sentences.  She spoke so fast and wrote so

quickly that she didn't even notice what was happening to her.  But Brendon

did.

     As he sat wide-eyed, staring at Jill's cotton evening dress, he

noticed that

her breasts were beginning to grow again.  The black fabric became tighter

and tighter as her bustline increased.  Had he been able to move his eyes

from her ballooning boobs, Brendon would have seen that Jill's hair was

slowly beginning to become lighter colored.  And the rest of her body was

changing too, becoming more soft and fleshy.  As her arm moved quickly up

and down the chalkboard, he watched mesmerized as her stretching dress

outlined perfectly the imprint her super-small bra was making into her

bouncing bazooms.   She was really blowing up!

     "...and therefore if you substitute the zygote of the male...pay attention

here Brendon," Jill scolded, her arm still writing as fast as it could.  She

turned her head to see Brendon's face lit like a child's at Christmas.

Following his eyeline, her gaze fell into her own extending cleavage, now

marking out a DD-cupped chest.

     "My breasts!  Look at my breasts!" Jill squeaked.  She dropped her chalk

and it shattered on the wood floor.  Her writing hand made palm marks on

her dress where she grasped the sides of her now larger bust.  The growth

continued slightly, starting to cause little tears to appear in the seam that

ran down the front of the dress.

     "I'm blowing up, Brendon.  My boobs are actually getting bigger!!!"

     "I know," Brendon drooled, his eyes beginning to glaze over.

     The growth stopped, and Jill turned to look at herself in the

reflection of

the walk-in freezer.  She looked to have gained 30 lbs, not counting her

chest.  And her hair?!?!

     "I'm getting....blonde?" Jill noticed, then refocusing on the outstanding

part of this development.  The pain from the unrelinquishing bra was

beginning to seep through her shock, but before she could attend to relieving

it, her eyes noticed Brendon's grinning face again.

     "Why are you just sitting there?  Quit staring at me.  Can't you see I

need

some help?" Jill pleaded.

     Brendon surprised Jill by letting out a sound that could only be diagnosed

as a Beavis laugh.  He then reached out a hand to squeeze one of her

mammoth mammaries.  Jill became livid.

     "Look Cro-Magnon man.  Just because a woman has large breasts does not

mean you get squeezing rights.  Women in history, I quote, "Have been

oppressed by their captors, man, for countless..."Jill spouted.

     Brendon grinned as Jill's boobs began to billow outward again, causing the

tears to widen longer.  Soon, he could see the front of her bra, which by now

was merely a string around her inflating volleyballs.  Jill seemed to get even

more adamant about convincing Brendon what he was doing was wrong,

causing her tits to swell more enormous.

     POP!  Jill's tits jiggled a bit as her bra broke, letting her chest

fill out her

tortured dress even more.  The rips were almost joining now.  With each

breath Jill took, a little rip let Brendon know her breasts were blowing up

that much bigger.  Her hair was now completely blonde, and her figure had

filled to that of Anna Nicole Smith, except for her basketball sized jugs.

     "...and if you can't take your eyes off my expanding chest...my..."Jill

slowed.  "Holy Shit!"

     Jill felt the front of her dress.  Flesh from her enlarging boobs was

seeping out the tear holes, showing just how much her breasts were being

squeezed by her now far-too-small dress.  She moaned as her hands brushed

across her hardening nipples, surprisingly the same size they'd always been.

     Brendon's breathing became erratic and he leaped towards Jill, pulling on

the fabric of her dress.  RRIIIPPPP!  The dress thankfully unloaded it's

payload.  Jill shrieked at the sight of the nerdy little man staring

slobberingly at her titanic titties.  She boob-butted him to the ground and

ran yelling from his office.

     With her added weight, she found running to be quiet different.  As she

hit her office, she couldn't help but notice how long it took her naked chest

to stop moving.  They continued to bounce and sway, rubbing against the

torn fabric of the dress and each other.  Her head swimming, she sat down at

her desk.  This caused her to knock over half the items on her desktop and

she realized that her huge hooters were as real as they felt.

     The air conditioned room was cold, making her nipples stand straight-out.

She lay her head on the desk, trying to center her thoughts.  Her breasts had

stopped growing, but the damage had been done.  Her boobs were huge!

She'd have trouble sitting behind the wheel of her car to drive home they

were so big.

     As she sat sobbing, she looked at her notes from the previous night.  This

time, she didn't pass up the extra hormone part of the report.  As her brain

centered on the calculations, she felt her boobs begin to tingle.  She

concentrated on the paper, beginning to scribble notes, ignoring the filling

feeling that began again in her bosom.  30 seconds later, she finished her

analysis, and had grown an extra 10 inches to stop at what she figured had

to be a 60 inch bust.

     "Cerebral stimulation resulting in hormonal imbalance," was underlined at

the bottom of the page.  Jill had figured it out.  Her body was changing to

represent what she resented most; blonde-haired, buxom bimbos.

Meanwhile, her brain was able to deduce the most complex of equations.

And following this theory, she might be able to reduce her chest size by not

using her intelligence for a period of time, but each time she resumed her

higher functions, she'd begin to balloon up again.

     "Oh my...this means...," Jill realized, bringing her hands up to her

face.  "No

one's ever going to take me seriously.  Each time I get into a debate or a

lecture, all the men are going to be watching me pop buttons on my blouses

as my breasts enlarge."  She sat back in her chair, resting her elbows in the

soft pillows of flesh her breasts had formed.

     Her life was going to get complicated, fast.  She'd been ordered by the

board to give daily briefings at the corporate headquarters for the next two

weeks.  How would she pull that off?