Karyn took the long way home that day. She didn't wanna go straight back after... that had just happened. No, she needed to clear her head, she needed time to think and be herself before having to look her parents and her older brother in the eyes (the latter was back from College, having Spring Break a week later than she did). So, Karyn texted her Mom some words about going for a jog in the park that day, and then tried her absolute hardest not to be aware of every little movement her breasts made with every single step she took.
She failed, of course. It was warmer than Karyn had guessed today, and she could fully feel every single droplet of sweat forming and growing on their soft creamy skin, in places giving her gorgeous melons a delicious lustrous shine, in others gluing the fabric of her shirt to their perfect perky shape, and in still others growing large enough to lubricate her canyon of shapely cleavage. Through her shirt her bouncing nipples rubbed horny patterns against her baggy sweater, stimulating her in an attempt to drive her mad enough to grab them again and play with them in public until she was lost to lust again. Instead, Karyn just tried ever harder to ignore them.
What the fuck is happening to me!? Karyn thought. Why the fuck is this happening to me!? I'm a girl, I've had boobs all my life! Not boobs like this, but boobs all the same! They never felt like THIS! This isn't normal, it's...
Karyn was red in the face and panting, so she stopped. She took a deep breath, tried to calm herself down, and kept walking.
"God, I wish I had long blond hair and big boobs and maybe then I'd get some of the attention." That was the wording. It was less than an hour ago, that was the wording! "I wish I had long blonde hair and big boobs and maybe then I'd get some of the attention." There wasn't anything in there about them being this sensitive! This wasn't what I asked for; I asked for hair, I got the hair, I wanted them big, I got them big. So why do they NEED to be TOUCHED so fucking bad!?"
Karyn had to stop again. She was panting even harder now, but she'd only just made it to the neighborhood park and her walk was barely faster than a strolling pace; this couldn't be exertion. It was her boobs, it had to be her boobs. They needed to breathe, they needed air, they insisted on it, and if Karyn didn't listen to them they'd make her take care of them. She wouldn't have a repeat of the bathroom, though, so she compromised by just taking off her sweater, tying its sleeves around her trim waist. It emphasized the enormous new size of her bust, but whatever. Now they could breathe.
So, Karyn resumed her walk through the park. Honestly? Taking off the sweater did the trick. The cool air flowed over her sweat-soaked shirt in a way just pleasant enough to chill her out both literally and figuratively, and her nipples, though made more stiff by the breeze, weren't stimulating her against her jacket anymore. Why wasn't I wearing a bra in the new reality? Karyn wondered; she hadn't needed one in the old reality, her boobs were too small to bother, and she guessed for now that just carried over? If Jon was right about the whole retroactive changes thing then she'd definitely own plenty to wear once she got home and could think about something that wasn't the present needs of her boobs. Actually, on reflection already she was feeling grateful she could think more deeply about things that weren't her boobs!
In a quick surge of confidence, she sped up, elevated her stroll to a proper jog. Of course, immediately her tits were jumping all over place, but she found she didn't mind. It felt good, actually. Pleasant, but not pleasuring in the overwhelming sexual sense. Boobs bouncing free in the wonderful spring air, she felt good enough to start to properly run, and finally she felt liberated enough not to be obsessing about her own mammoth mammaries for a while.
The trance was broken after a little while when some random passerby tripped and fell to the ground with a thud. He hadn't been watching where he was going, because he was busy ogling Karyn's boobs.
Karyn was receptive to the moral of that story, and made an effort to be more aware of her surroundings thereafter. The surrounding she consequently became aware of was that everyone was ogling her boobs, or else was trying very hard to pretend they weren't. The park wasn't especially busy or crowded today, but there were enough folks going at their picnics or sports or whatever the activity was to forget about that activity entirely whenever Karyn ran by. Everybody was staring at her, but nobody bothered with eye contact, not when her perfect, sexy boobs were right there, bouncing away their worries like no hypnotist ever could. Karyn blushed at the realization that they could see everything; her sweat-soaked shirt was semi-sheer where it clung to her glorious bosom, and her hard nipples were proudly presenting their contour for the viewing regardless. Men were trying to hide their boners, and women gawked openly as she went by; some even pulled out their phones, trying catch her in photo or video to make the blessing image of her godsent gazongas last longer. Not a single person in the park was ignoring her, and Karyn was starting to realize they might not have been able to if they tried.
Attention! It finally clicked in Karyn's mind. I wished for 3 things, not 2: blonde hair, big boobs, and Attention! And oh my fucking god, am I ever getting the attention! The fantasy flying through Karyn's mind when she held the Stone at the critical moment had disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, but now, Karyn recalled it clearly: She was jealous of Sarah, and not just because she was popular or wealthy, but because she was HOT in a way Karyn hadn't fully understood until the bathroom moments before. Karyn was straight (probably), and she had certainly never seen what it was men saw in the feminine fat hanging on the other sex's chests. But she did see what it did to them: the way they threw themselves recklessly at women with nice chests and seemed to lose double-digits worth of IQ when a pair was presented to them. She saw the privilege women had with them, the way people like Sarah earned the jealousy of all other women and the attention of all other men just by showing them off, and got more than their share of life's bounties just because of their busts. It was like magic. And Karyn started to think that in the case of her own boobs, it actually was magic.
But a finger on the Monkey's Paw had curled. What happened in the bathroom had happened because Karyn herself wasn't immune to her boobs' magic. She shuddered at the realization that for the rest of her life, she actually would, in fact, be breasting boobily.
