A DAY AT THE BRONY CONVENTION

And then – one day – it happened. My breasts grew from a V cup to a ZZZ cup in 30 minutes flat. I didn't have my wheelchair nearby.

I was stranded.

I couldn't stand up, no matter how I tried. Their gargantuan, throbbing weight was simply far too much to bear. Each whopping lobe had expanded to at least 6 feet in diameter – wider than I am tall.

I couldn't move.

Will was at work, and the kids couldn't help me either, bawling and screeching like a swirling plague of frothing maggots throughout the stale halls of this vile, loathsome hovel. My cellphone was in the other room. I had no access to any of the vast amounts of food or water which my cursed body constantly requires.

My ruthless, monstrous breasts continued to manufacture milk at an alarming rate, rapidly sapping my bloodstream of vital nutrients. My thoughts become cloudy. Portions of my brain are shutting down as my body scrambles to maintain what it perceives to be most essential – breast growth & mammary functions. Out of vast, aching nipples as large as my own skull, a thick white stream flowed, soaking our kitchen table.

My body had prioritized the needless overproduction of wasted milk in preference to its own ability to remain conscious.

I pass out from acute malnourishment.

***

I hear a knock at the door...

They're here.

***

I only bear vague, disconnected images of where I was taken next:

The bed of an unknown van...

The cold steel floor of a massive facility...

***

My breasts have crushed my ribcage.

***

I feel the cold cylinders as they replace my heart.