Hitomification

crashbimbofication:

I don’t often get specific, but I had a crazy idea earlier – what if we had bimbofication, but for specific girls? Such as, say, Hitomi Tanaka, everyone’s favorite Japanese porn star with impossible tits? And not just the person – who is actually a smart and sweet woman, but specifically the persona she puts on for her AV work?

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Imagine a normal European/American girl, frustrated with how her boyfriend seems obsessed with Japanese porn, suddenly finding her English is suffering, and her voice is pitching up a little. Her body is getting fit and tight, suddenly, but her boobs seem to be getting…bigger. WAY bigger. And over the course of a few days, she’s downright huge.

She likes the flat tummy and nice legs, but her boobs are growing out of control, not even her old C cup bras filling them. Every bikini seems to just have her titflesh hang out around and underneath, like they have lost almost all of their shape and firmness. Her bras don’t fit anymore, even though she’s gone up two cup sizes in a matter of weeks.

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She looks down at herself, and barely recognizes what she’s looking at. A tight, slim body, and huge squishy tits that refuse to go into any bras. She’s given up and just wears shirts, but no matter what color they’re all see-thru and flimsy, exposing just how gargantuan and soft her boobs have become. The idea to wear sweaters or jackets just…doesn’t occur to her.

She gropes herself a moment, and a tingle of pleasure shoots up her spine. She feels…amazing.

No, she thinks, firmly, trying to stay focused. Her attention is drifting as of late, and she feels a low-key arousal humming in the back of her head. She can’t stay focused, and thinks a lot about masturbating, groping her tits, and sucking on some yummy cock.

Y-yummy? she thinks, shocked, and stumbles into her bathroom to splash water on her face. This isn’t real. It’s a dream.

But she takes one look in the mirror and realizes that it’s all real – this is all happening.

She didn’t see it before, but her black hair has slowly been lightening until it was a soft brown – a color she has never been in her life. 

The girl touches her face, feeling her cheekbones – they’ve changed. Her face has changed, jawline morphing and her eyelids flattening. She looks Japanese, in a way she never did. She’s a completely different person now. She can’t even recognize her own reflection.

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Touching her face in the mirror, she whispers, “N-nani?! Watashi ni-”

She claps her hand to her mouth. That was Japanese! Not thinking, she blurts, “Nihongo o hanasenai!”

Again, she shrieks in horror, stumbling out of her bathroom and into her living room, bursting out her doors into the street, still dressed like a porn star, trying to find some help. Someone, anyone, to help her out!

A cop sees her panic, and he approaches her – openly staring at her appearance. “Miss, are you, uh,” he asks.

She finds herself confused by what he’s saying, and her brain is doing overtime trying to process what she was upset by earlier. Was she upset? There’s fuzz where her brain once was, and she can’t seem to remember what was getting her so worried.

“Oh,” she blurts, and gives a dim smile to the cop. “Gomenasaiiii~” she says, cutely, and gives a little peace sign. “Tanaka-kuuuuun~!”

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