One phenomenon that is interesting in this fetish is that many people we recognize from “the community” disappear over time. Where do they go? Did they stop looking at this stuff?
I think it’s an important question.
The reason I think that is because these fetishes are difficult to live with, and the longer it continues the more it diverges from what is considered normal for a normal life. If I had to summarize this problem, it’s like this: you aren’t supposed to be so into this stuff.
And yet many of us are, very much so.
When I was growing up the only girls I was interested in had the biggest breasts I was aware of. It started in 6th grade. I knew who they were and had a sort of mental catalog of scenes where I had encountered them, either in person as students at school, or on TV watching actresses, and I did this cataloging in almost obsessive detail. I ranked them, even. From biggest to smallest, of course.
One night I saw the pornstar and model Pandora Peaks on the TV show Entertainment Tonight. She was going to be in the movie “Striptease” with Demi Moore and she was getting some buzz, and had recently been on TV a few times in Latin America doing variety shows.
She spent a lot of the segment in a blue one-piece swimsuit.
Probably literally...it blew my mind. Like a lightbulb just blowing out. It was easily the most arousing thing I’d ever seen, this woman with these huge, round boobs, the biggest i’d ever seen, crazy firm and round. Something about the extremeness of it went directly through me. It was insanely inappropriate, and impossible, and unreal, but here they were very real.
I remember my dad at the kitchen table with my mom, they were talking about grownup stuff, but my dad must have seen the TV and said dismissively “can you believe that” or something to that effect.
This was before the internet.
I didn’t really know at the time that I was specifically, extremely attracted and aroused by stuff like inflation and breast expansion. I only knew that the examples I had seen were so incredibly special that I never forgot them and an obsession slowly grew, based on growth of the body. Pamela Anderson was in there of course. She was the most famous example of this kind of enhancement.
And then one day we got the internet. And sitting down alone to check this thing out, I saw in the crude internet of 1996 there was a link to some Baywatch stuff, a show exclusively about hot chicks in swimsuits. I clicked it, something brewing inside my brain. Did I know what I was looking for?
From that first mouse click, *I’ve never stopped*. It was a gateway drug. I was searching for something and whatever I was looking for was constantly elusive. There was always some new discovery that required more searching. Bigger and bigger tits. I found “Danni’s Hard Drive” right away, looking for Pandora Peaks. From there I discovered a whole galaxy of fake tits.
From there I soon discovered the BEA. I discovered morphs, erotic stories, and rare drawings. This was the heart of all my most powerful fantasies. I was chasing a high that got better and more powerful all the time.
The first time I ever masturbated was to a cartoon picture made by an artist called The Rocketeer who had a page at the BEA. It was the most arousing picture I’d ever seen, I could hardly believe it. Afterwards I realized what I’d done, I was incredibly ashamed, like i’d killed someone. I performed a bizarre ritual of disposal like I was burying a body.
But afterwards, I couldn’t stop. Something about it made it zip right through any idea I might have had about self control, to the point that it didn’t exist for me.
The internet continued to expand but the content generation was very slow in those days. Pornography was still being released and existed exclusively on VHS and wouldn’t be on DVD for years - it was extraordinarily difficult to transfer videos to computer. When they did they existed as short, blurry clips.
There were breast expansion stories too though, dozens existed by the time I found the BEA, and because they were easy to produce, more coming out all the time. I started to read less real fiction and devote most of my reading to BE stories. I blame this for my difficulty writing real fiction. All the knowledge I should have about how to write has been consumed by knowledge of how to write titty stories, which I’m pretty good at.
All of this created, without me realizing it for a very long time, a double life. At night, I would spend hours searching and cataloging an ever growing trove of pornography, and jerking off non-stop. In the beginning about 7 times a day, every day. Occasionally 10 or 11 times a day when I stumbled upon a particularly deep vein of fetish content.
If I had a passing encounter with one of the girls at school who had unusually large breasts I would obsess over that, and use it as special material.
For many years I used a back massager to speed up the sensation. I don’t think I “manually” did it for 5 or 6 years.
During the day I went to school and went to part time jobs, hung out with my small circle of friends, played video games and hid everything from friends and family while presenting myself as a funny, friendly guy.
I graduated college still a virgin. It never occurred to me that you could ask someone out. I didn’t know how that worked. 90% of the women I saw were not desirable anyway, and the ones I did want seemed 1) impossibly out of my league,
and 2) I had developed this problem at some point where the presence of a girl with an extremely attractive body made me tremble uncontrollably, go weak in the knees like I couldn’t stand, and more or less **88** with extreme nervousness.
I moved to be with my best friends, and I met their girlfriends. I wanted one too, I guess. So I started dating. It was rocky at first. I didn’t know what I was doing and it was some trial and error I should have gotten out of the way as a much younger man.
Eventually after a year of trying, I got a girlfriend from online dating. She had really big tits on a kind of barrel shaped torso. Probably double or triple D, I can’t remember. But ugly and stupid. She was several years younger, so we lost our virginity to each other.
Afterwards with her asleep next to me I stared out the bedroom window, the room lit by my Matrix screensaver and the moon outside. I didn’t feel any different. I didn’t feel changed at all. I didn’t feel anything about this. I’d jerked off plenty of times that resulted in orgasms far better than this.
We had more sex, and then one night we smoked weed and I got very high for the first time and was caught off guard by incredibly powerful, disorienting hallucinations. We were getting intimate, and suddenly in my mind I felt someone say “she's your mother.”
I was so horrified I threw her off and projectile vomited, and was sick the rest of the night.
Afterwards something about that idea I couldn’t shake, and it burrowed deep inside my mind, reminding me of that image, swapping my mom in for this girl. For the first time I started to have trouble getting it up. At first it was rare, and then it was often. Since then it has come and gone with almost every girl I’ve been with and has made relationships traumatizing and terrifying. Inevitably my partners get hurt.
But I couldn’t stop.
We broke up, I moved around, and found an incredible and fulfilling career position. I started to get a lot of respect from peers for my speaking and writing ability, something very new to me. Three years into this I finally met someone online that I clicked with on a mental level.
She was chubby in a way I found extremely attractive, with just a big pot belly like she was pregnant (she used to boast she was able to get on rides for free because of the way her belly looked), and with big firm DD tits. Just amazingly attractive, charismatic, and with the same sense of humor. We fell in love right away and were inseparable almost immediately.
We were sexually compatible and it was the best i’ve ever had. We had sex so frequently and without problems that I thanked god because I was obviously cured of my past dysfunction.
Life was good.
Throughout all of this, I had never stopped my nightly activities obsessively searching for porn, unless I was out of the house. I went to music shows, I did Coachella a few times, I went to clubs, and some portion of it was out of desperation to get away from the computer. Because if I was home alone then I was looking at porn and jerking off and I was old enough to realize that I had wasted too much of my life doing this.
Then one day, way too soon, I got this feeling. Like the interest and desire I had for my girlfriend just wasn’t there. It just evaporated. She went to grab my dick, which before had always got hard in her hand, and nothing happened.
There’s this thing that goes on where I just can’t believe this, because I want this, and this time is no different from any other time, all the conditions are the same...but it just...isn’t there. Actually I don’t want it, deep inside I’ve lost interest in this, I’m bored. My head is sandwiched between two tits almost as big as my head. This is a girl with tits so big they’d cover her face when we fucked. And that wasn’t enough for me. I never had a good explanation. It never made sense to me or to her.
It happened again and again. It would stop happening, we’d have incredible makeup sex. It would come back at random times, and she’d feel hurt. Over time it destroyed her self confidence. We started to fight about crap.
She asked me one night after a random erection failure if I looked at porn. I was incredibly close to this person, so it didn’t occur to me to lie. Besides every guy did it. I admitted that I did. My confession didn’t get any farther than that. She immediately went into hysterics, literally hyperventilating. It took hours to calm her down. Things were never the same. We decided to break up that night. I asked her to take me back the next day and we decided to stay together after all.
But things were never the same. She asked me to stop looking at porn. Stop “fapping”.
I managed for my longest streak ever, about a month. Another big fight and I broke down in a moment of panic and weakness. I never looked back, and returned to my old habits. At work my star continued to rise. I became an excellent public speaker and event organizer and used these opportunities to become a dominating office presence and secure a promotion track.
But my double life was worse than ever at this point, in order to maintain my obsession I was lying to the woman who **84** next to me, secretly looking at porn and jerking off all around her. I was writing BE fiction and got caught doing it at work by a co-worker. I accidentally linked my account to a work gmail and someone must have found one of my stories in my Drive.
None of that mattered. And it still doesn’t. There's nothing I can do about it and it hasn't stopped my success at all. I'm still as well-respected as ever.
But eventually my double life caught up with my girlfriend, and she was forced to confront me. She found my BE stories which I’d been writing during my “reboot”. We broke up. I moved out.
That was a year ago. My addiction is basically worse than ever. I’ve visited Chelsea Charms. I’ve visited strip clubs. I’m dating a girl with big fake tits now, she says they’re an E cup. When we go to dinner together she looks ridiculous, with her tits resting on the table, and it’s obvious to everyone what I’m into.
And none of that holds a candle to what’s waiting for me on the internet when I get home. None of that real life stuff holds my interest. I still fail to get aroused by it in the flesh. It’s far more rewarding and efficient to jack off to computer porn than to see my girlfriend or go to a strip club with real fake tits and ass.
I am absolutely obsessed by breast implants, ass enhancement, lip fillers, etc. Only the biggest and most extreme examples of these inflated body parts is interesting to me. If I am trying to remember something work-related I’m searching for on the office computer, I have to stop myself from entering in porn keywords or websites, even as I mutter them to myself.
I am not sexually interested at all in any normal women. I don’t understand people who are. Years of browsing past porn I don’t care about has made me desensitized and completely uninterested in normal naked women, like they’re furniture. I’ve never seen a vagina I gave a shit about.
Meanwhile, I fantasize often about getting a girlfriend who agrees with my aesthetic preference for womens’ bodies and agrees to get bigger and bigger implants. I look for women on dating apps who might be into that.
But more and more I’m coming to the realization, because I’ve gotten to experience these bodies, that it won’t ever be enough. It’s never what I really want, it’s never what I’m really looking for. It never satisfies. I always want more than this, more than what she is or can be. Bigger even that this.
I’ve been indulging this fetish for 21 years straight. I’ve slowed down some, but not really. I don’t know how to stop. I’ve realized that even if my sexual fetish was given flesh, if I got the woman I wanted, the novelty would wear off quickly and it would become boring, like always. I’d want someone else. Bigger.
This overwhelming physical desire for a real fantasy woman is therefore not what I really want, but I don’t want anything else. Nothing else, honestly not even the most fulfilling parts of my career is as important to me as my need to see the biggest, roundest breasts possible.
It is, with no exaggeration, why I get up in the morning. The chance that I might see some really big tits.
But this addiction has left my life hollowed out. There’s no room for anything else. I’ve never married and never had kids. Recently I tried to imagine those things in my life and I realized I couldn’t really do it. It didn’t make sense. Where would be my masturbation computer? How would I jerk off 3 times a day to cartoons if I had a wife and kid?
I’d have to stop.
But I’ve never been able to. And I can’t imagine a life without it. I’ve tried, but I can’t get those shapes out of my head. And I live in a very densely populated area where surgically enhanced and naturally voluptuous women are everywhere. They drive me into a frenzy when I see them.
So, when I see members of the community stop producing content or disappear, I’m happy for them. I assume they somehow got cured, or they grew up, out of this fetish. They’re living normal lives, and this whole thing was just a phase. There’s hope that you can just turn it off and become normal. Aroused and attracted to normal women. There are billions of normal women in the world, without huge butts or huge tits.
I've met a new girl. She's really cool and her attitude about work is just like mine, very into leadership roles and volunteering. We really connect, and she's gorgeous, with plump, filler-injected lips (something that's become surprisingly common in my area), great hair and big brown eyes.
There's just one problem: her breasts are average and she doesn't have much ass. I have a feeling I'm going to do what I always do.
I just want out of this.
But I can’t stop.