Her jean shorts were wedged open as her belly swelled over top of it. She now looked like she was about six months pregnant. But the shorts were incredibly tight on her ass too, cutting into her flesh. She moaned in pain as her body rebelled.“Please Daddy, make it stop,” she pleaded. She screamed as her shirt began to rip on her chest. It was stretched to the breaking point across her now DD tits. “Daddy, it hurts!”“Then push Susan. Rip through your clothes. Push!”“Aaaaggghhh!” she screamed as she pushed out. Her tits swelling visibly as they ripped through her shirt, milk flowing down the huge round mounds. She fell to her knees, panting and crying. Watching her transformation, Tom was as disgusted with her as ever, but his cock was now rock hard in his pants. He pulled it out, stroking it as he watched his daughter lose the battle to retain who she had been.On her hands and knees crying, Susan’s jean shorts started to rip. First a small rip at the top, then it spread right down the. In the middle distance I could see the smooth amber sands being washed over by the incoming tide.~ ~ ~ ~ ~Carla and I shared a table at suppertime (an uninspiring Welsh vegetarian version of shepherd’s pie, followed by treacle tart with runny custard). We lingered over our milky coffees until the dining room was all but deserted. “Are you going to chance tomorrow morning’s opening session?” Carla asked.“Remind me what the theme is?”“’How the Bible has influenced modern short story writing’. It’s being given by a local vicar.” She gave a wry half-smile and tipped her head to one side quizzically.“Err… I think I’ll pass on that one.”“Me too. Fancy exploring the beach? The tide should be out and the forecast says it’s going to be hot. Maybe take a packed lunch?”“Mmmm… that sounds much more interesting and I’ll supply the booze.”“They do say…” her sentence tailed off as she nervously swivelled her empty coffee cup in the saucer.“Yes?”“Well… they do say that down the far end of the beach.
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