Kinktober 8 - Bursting Buttons (Patreon)

Kinktober prompt:
Bursting Buttons

Contains: Breast Expansion

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Kinktober 8 - Bursting Buttons

Life at Ample Springs Academy had been… trying for Coach Hays. She suspected there was something in the spring water here at Ample when her sports bras started getting tight and had switched exclusively to sports drinks, which she had to order online. At six-one and fourteen percent body fat, Coach Hays had never craved carbs and sugar in her adult life before those first six months drinking the Academy’s delicious water.

Coaching a varsity team where the smallest girl looked like she was smuggling another set of volleyballs in her uniform was bad enough. However, giving classroom lectures after two of the three ridiculous meals the college served was the worst part of Naomi’s day.

As the thirty-seven young women in her one p.m. class shuffled into the classroom, Coach Hays tried not to grimace. This was a first-year class, so the girls weren’t too large, though more than a few of the eighteen and nineteen-year-olds had tits the size of softballs. A parade of straining buttons, tight sweaters, and loosened neckties filtered into their seats. Naomi could tell they’d over-indulged at lunch; they always did. Hiccups and suppressed burps mingled with their tinkling chatter, several uniform shirts were untucked, and Coach Hays was certain Jamie Barnes’s skirt was undone.

“Good afternoon, ladies. As I promised on Wednesday, we’re starting the period with a quiz.”

A chorus of groans that had little to do with their overfilled stomachs filled the room.

“The quiz sheets are already on your desks. You have ten minutes, starting… now.”

Heads bent toward desks, and Coach Hays tried to tune out the grumbles of digestion that mixed with the sound of pencils scratching against paper. As someone who lived a life of rigorous self-discipline, Naomi found the Academy disgraceful. Three meals a day, buffet-style, comprised of the richest, fattiest foods imaginable. And she knew from experience that it was all delicious. Tucked into a corner of the dining hall’s serving area was a tiny salad bar, neglected by almost every woman on campus besides Coach Hays. They even served dessert at breakfast! To say nothing of the multitude of snack shops scattered throughout the campus and made freely available twenty-four hours a day.

Naomi glanced across the classroom. Half of the students violated the uniform code. A pair of third-years sitting in the back were bigger than basketballs, their fatty lumps resting on the desk as they leaned around them to write their quiz answers. Coach Hays was disgusted. Just because the spring water cleared up their complexions and made every last student pretty enough to be a magazine model, it couldn’t possibly be worth the obvious side effects. And simply because the girls somehow only accumulated fat in their chests, that was no excuse for the Academy to let them gorge themselves like Middle Americans at Thanksgiving three times a day.

Coach Hays knew it was a hopeless cause. Not a single woman at Ample Springs shared her concerns. Every last student in her class was outrageously busty and growing bigger by the week. They would all need uniform upgrades by the end of the year.

Movement at one side of the classroom caught Naomi’s eye. A second-year, Elsie Marshall, had finished her quiz and was digging in her bag. Elsie was a shy, absent-minded girl with no physical fitness whatsoever. The mousy brunette spent all her spare time in the library reading, completely sedentary.

Her lack of care for her appearance likely explained why Elsie’s uniform shirt was skin-tight and puckering at the buttons. She pulled a large bottle of spring water from her back and gulped at it greedily. Naomi watched the girl’s dodgeball-sized breasts bob as she gulped, then realized she was staring and forced her eyes back to the lecture notes on her desk.

A soft popping of fabric followed by a high-pitched squeak made Coach Hays look up again.

It was Elsie, of course.

Two buttons in the middle of the second-year’s uniform had broken their threads, and the cream-colored edges of her bra cups were visible.

“Please don’t disturb the class, Miss Marshall.”

Elsie covered the opening in her ruined shirt with both hands. “Sorry, Coach Hays…”

“Go down to the school’s store and get a blouse that fits properly. If you hurry, you’ll be back before we start the lecture.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Elsie jogged for the exit. Naomi was certain this was the most exercise the girl would get all day. Her chest careened with the unfamiliar motion, and she lost another button before she got through the door.