Trisha is looking to take over the company. Frist order of business, get rid of the juicing policy. Too bad the juicing union has a surprise for her. I hope Trisha enjoys learning what being a giant, sexy blueberry is all about. (This story is only on my Patreon/DA subscription tiers and parts of the story came from a dream I had.)

              Trisha fell to her knees, panting as more of her skin turned blue.  “I. . . won’t change my decision.  Ohhhh, god.”

              “You won’t?  But what happens when you become a big ole blueberry stuck in your office?”  Fran smiled as she rubbed Trisha’s back, her hand working its way down to her ass.  “All that juice flowing through you.  This is supposed to be fun.  You don’t want it to hinder your productivity now, do you?”

              “I wouldn’t have a productivity hindrance if you didn’t pull this stunt.  Ohhh god.  Ohhhh.”  Trisha shook her head as she suddenly shot up, her hands on her sumptuous breasts.  “Ohh fuck.”  In her hands, her boobs began to swell, centimeter by centimeter.  “I. . . I. . . I. . .”  She stuck her tongue out and fell onto her hands and knees as her breasts jiggled about, continuing to fill with juice.  “Ohhh fuckkkk.”  She took a deep breath.  “My blouse.  I. . . get it. . . off.”  Shrrippp.  The fabric began to tear as her tender breasts continued to grow, her erect nipples almost ripping through the fabric.

              Fran laughed.  “My, my.  I am just a bit worried.”  Fran tugged a bit at the base of Trisha’s blouse, making it even tighter around the chest.  “Why isn’t the juice going to all the other parts of your body yet?  You have so much more to grow.  To swell.”  She slapped Trisha’s rear end.  “Come on, dear.  Show me how juicy you can get.”

              “No.  I. . . am your boss.  And I. . . have to. . . stop this practice.”  Grurggle.  Trisha flipped herself over onto her back, her belly pulsing.  “Ughh, I feel so. . . soo. . . “