Hating the size, the weight, the existence of your full bust, you slump backwards onto your bed. Discovering quite how mobile the girls are, as they slosh around. At one point threatening to slap your chin, at another to slide painfully apart. Nudging them to keep them from that, you hold them in place.
"I'm a tomboy... I'm a tomboy... I'm a tomboy..." you chant the words like a mantra, a defence against your treacherous body. As you mutter the words, you feel gases shift, and build in your stomach, you don't have time to relieve the pressure before another long, and humiliatingly loud belch rips free.
Feeling drained and exhausted, you lie there, knowing you're empty. No trace of pressure within, only a faint hollow hunger, as you stomach grumbles announcing your need to eat. Part of you wants to just lie there, but it's impossible, with an effort you sit back up, and stand. The weight of your bust is already painful.
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