Com-Bin-Her - Part Three

​"What...the...fuck..." I squeak as I stare down at myself, my voice crackling slightly like it was undergoing puberty once more.

As I slump against the door I feel my chest tug at me, the hefty weights wobbling and shaking along with my heartbeat and breath as well as something more worrying.

The massive mounds sag rather dramatically, resting fairly far down my chest in a heavily drooping teardrop. The thick nipples stand at attention in the frigid open air, the tingling stick of the freezing metal rings through each of them only making my thick eraser-like nipples firmer and more sensitive.

My smaller pectorals, hidden beneath the voluminous fatty sacs bound to my chest, shudders and shakes against my will. It is as though the muscles are trying to escape my body, achingly tugging away from me as they cause the immense mounds to wobble with each movement.

Com-Bin-Her - Part Two

Rolling my eyes a little I make a quick selection before pressing

[Combine]

The screen itself quickly locks up, a spinning wheel covering my own image as new text lips up beneath it.

       Combining
     Jordan Hughes
           &
Margaret Richards - Breasts
  Gracie Douglas - Pussy

Com-Bin-Her - Part One

As I stumble into my apartment I quickly try to shake the rain from my lanky form. It had only been drizzling when I had left to go get my weekly groceries, but the wintery weather had soon turned violent and soaked me to my core on the way back.

Dropping the sodden bags to the floor by the door I quickly try to disrobe, my loose woolen sweater feeling five times as heavy thanks to all the water soaked into the usually warm material.

Piece after piece of clothing is tossed to the wooden floor with a series of loud wet slaps, a grown pool of water leaking out from underneath them. Before long I'm left shivering in my boxers, rubbing at my slender arms with my hands as I try to warm up.

I quickly begin to move to my bedroom, eager to fetch some dry clothes. However, as I step over the dripping set of black jeans my eyes go wide.

"My phone!" I cry, realizing I had left the worryingly delicate device in my pocket despite the heavy downpour outside.