Angela was so happy to be marrying Tomas that she was prepared to do anything for him – even sign a contract requiring her to keep her current measurements.

“I don’t want to marry you and then find you putting on weight,” he said. “This document is legally binding. It gives me the right to require my wife to look the way I want her to. It requires you to maintain your current clothing sizes. It prohibits you from ever again, for the rest of your life, buying or wearing clothing in any other size than what you wear right now.”

She signed. She loved him. She wanted to marry him. She was prepared to exercise to keep fit.

But on her wedding night, after he fucked her for the first time in their wedding bed, she felt herself getting sleepy and – thanks to the drugs he had fed her – it was three full days later that she next woke up.

When she did, she found that her husband had put her through a boob job. She now had giant, bulging, fake funbags.

She was outraged, but her husband pointed her to the clause in the contract that gave him the right to dictate how she looked. She was more outraged once she realised that none of her clothes fit her anymore. The few bras that she could even fit over her new giant whore-melons were *painful*, and all of her shirts stretched with obscene lewdness over her big round rape-balloons.

But she was going to have to make do, her husband reminded her, because she was not allowed to buy any clothes for her new size. She was going to have to get used to stuffing her new G-cup tits into her old C-cup bras and shirts.

Her options were simple – stay home, and go topless; or go out in public looking like a ridiculous fuckdoll. She tried both. Neither pleased her. They were intensely humiliating.

She was just getting used to being in public with her titflesh spilling out of her shirt armholes and overflowing her bra, when she got some additional bad news – her husband had impregnated her.

“That’s a shame,” said her husband. “Because now your tits are going to grow even bigger – and I don’t think *any* of your old panties and pants are going to fit around your waist anymore…”


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