The Right Way to Blow Up

By

Desmond Fallout

It was funny how perspectives tend to shift over time. When you become the best at what you do it feels less like work and more of a sport. Or maybe it was a case of bloated ego; Amelia was having a hard time figuring that out. For her, success was the art of practice. Not in the various odd jobs such an agent of her caliber usually did. Any idiot could steal back an artifact or collect intelligence. Employers were well aware of her near perfect record for accomplishing missions.

What was not so widely known was Amelia's near perfect record for getting caught...

Well, a naga needs to practice after all. You cannot improve skills sitting comfortably behind a debriefing desk after every mission. Truth was; the whole 'freelance agent' thing was more of a hobby to pay the bills. Her real passion lied in escaping. Did not matter if there were security systems, booby traps, or just some death machine set up by a hack scientist. They were simply puzzles to be solved for exercise. She relished the opportunity to tempt fate on nothing but intellect.

And boy did the world have no shortage of weirdoes willing to provide such a service. Amelia tried to shift her hips, nearly slipping off the tiny stool she had been placed on. Fortunately the thick snake tail that made up her lower body had wrapped around some of the legs to keep a firm grip. A weight trigger had been attached to the chairs base, running a cord through some mechanisms to a large vat looming just a few feet away. Inside of which bubbled a thick substance that looked akin to tapioca pudding. That was fairly disturbing since there were no heat sources being applied to make it that hot. The whole thing had been rigged so the second her rear stopped giving its full weight the cord would yank her seat out and provide a makeshift bath.

Only thing keeping Amelia from simply diving out of the way in such a spacious area as a mansions ballroom was the fact her hands had been cuffed to a chandelier above her head. Except instead of ornaments were hanging no less than a baker's dozen of hand grenades. A very tight wire ran from each of their pins to her shackles, leaving an inch worth of movement at best.

Overkill was also invited to the party. Even when Amelia found some way past these dual methods of certain doom she had to take care of her guards. These consisted of three non-anthro chickens wearing soldier hats. An amusing notion, were they not able to keep rocket launchers aimed steadily at her generous bust.

Boy, did she have a story for the water cooler tomorrow.

"Hah! Did you Think you could get away so easy?" said mad hack scientist number two-seven-three as he strode into Amelia's death chamber. She had never bothered to learn his name, much less what she was being paid to steal from his hideout. You see one crazy haired man in a lab coat you have seen them all. "Unlucky for you, I'm well aware of your infamy at daring escapes. I assure you, I'm not as clumsy as those other fools you've thwarted. This brilliant trap is well beyond your skills."

Well there goes another four quarters into the savings jar when she got home. Amelia liked to play a little game with how often she heard certain lines from her targets.

"Uh huh," she tried to sound melancholy as she surveyed the grenade chandelier again before giving him a smug grin. "Well I'm no stranger to the explosion wire and death vat, but I guess you deserve some kudos for thinking to use both at once."

"Don't get cocky with me, snake! Tonight I'll be eating your remains deep fried with ranch."

Six quarters.

"Besides," the hack continued with his own devilish smile. "This special formula of mine isn't meant to kill you directly. In fact, it's virtually harmless."

"Virtually?" Amelia raised an eye brow but continued to feel unimpressed. There was nothing this man could do that was not experienced six times over.

Or so she thought until he beckoned one of his chickens to come over. Pulling out a vial of what appeared to be the same substance he popped the cork and dumped it all onto the unprepared fowl. It splashed along its back, causing the chicken to squawke its annoyance. Seconds later it began to bwak in surprised and rapidly growing alarm as wings flapped furiously.

Amelia's stared with mouth slightly ajar at the sight unfolding before her. As the chicken ran about in circles she could see its body rapidly puffing up like some sort of balloon. Its rump stuck out high in the air while its chest spread closer to the ground. Slowly its movements waned until finally the bird collapsed helpless on the floor, reduced to a helpless blob of feathers. Its thighs had remained tiny during the rapid growth, becoming too weak to support such an increase in mass.

"Catalyzing Carbohydrate Proliferators," he said soon as Amelia whipped her stunned face back to him. Although she slammed her jaw shut again to stifle a giggle. "Hey, you try coming up with a name that's not already patented. It's a lot harder than it looks."

"So the purpose of that goop is to fatten me up?" Amelia started to giggle, but nearly fell out of the chair as a result. The vat rocked slightly, sloshing its contents around enough to slip a glob onto the floor just inches away from her tail. She forced a deep breath while mentally slapping herself for getting cocky. There would be plenty of time to dish out mockeries when this hack did not have her by two hair triggers. "I don't know whether this is creative and cute, or just random and stupid."

"Science is a bit of both, when you think about it." the man sauntered over to grope at Amelia's breasts, undoing the top buttons of her army jacket. Her melons promptly bulged together welcoming the increase in space to create an impressive display of cleavage. Contrarily Amelia barred her fangs in a venomous hiss of anger that failed to faze her captor. "Shame I won't get a chance to see these grow. We both know it's a miracle that old stool is holding your weight at all. A few loose slips are all it'll take before you become too heavy and smash it. Even then you might still try to grab my chandelier or stretch up enough to keep from triggering the bombs. That's why you're getting a bath of this stuff before you get the chance. You'll hit the ground with just enough time to lament your helpless obesity before becoming a massive stain across my walls."

"Hmm?" Amelia blinked back into the moment when she realized the man had finished monolouging his nefarious plot. The jar counter had gone up to ten quarters and she was starting to wonder if there was enough cash to get that cute skirt she had been eyeing in the mall last week. "Okay, kudos to being the sick and crazy kind of creative. I get these parts of the trap...but what's with the chickens?"

The man held up a finger as if prepared to retort, but stopped. He exchanged a stunned gaze with Amelia, stared at the two remaining ducks nervously aiming rockets at the naga, and then looked back at her. "Honestly, I don't remember hiring them at all. In any case, I need to go clean up the mess you left in my computer room. I give you about ten minutes before you're pasted. Ta-ta snake!"

"Hey, now wait a sec-and he's gone," Amelia said while trying not to sound too relieved. She did not want to convey her enthusiasm at finally being able to work. Just in case her remaining two chickens had a thought process beyond 'shoot giant breasted snake thing.'

Enthusiasm waned quickly the more this situation was assess. This was proving a trap not so easily tackled right away. The spiky haired twerp had made a challenging list of variables and she spent the first few minutes taking turns analyzing them. There would need to be a counter weight for the chair so she could move without breaking it prematurely. At the same time she would need some kind of boost to keep from triggering the grenade pins. The chandelier chains looked fairly brittle. If it was reachable maybe she could break that off with a proper amount of force. And then there was the sloppy laid out vat of fat goo. Its little demonstration splatter showed the thing was placed too far away to dump its contents in a way that would drench all of her. But without a brace for lift she would still be unable to dodge an entire dumping, resulting in one fat naga regardless.

Amelia had no desire to purchase a new skirt in a woman's size thirty-two. Tailored clothes for someone with no legs were expensive enough.

"Baaawk!"

Frantic angry clucks snapped Amelia back into the moment. Looking down she stifled another giggle at having to watch her former chicken guard trying to awkwardly waddle past. It only ever got a few steps before the disproportioned mass of its body became too much, causing it to topple over. She actually felt a bit sorry for it, watching the still normal sized legs and wings flapped furiously for useless attempts at balance.

Amelia blinked suddenly staring at the chicken with pensive intent. Now there was a major oversight that psycho dork had failed to take into account. Its discovery was like a misplaced gear had just snapped into place, completely changing the way she now regarded her trap. A plan was starting to form around a newly made hypothesis; one that could easily provide the needed counterweight and booster if correct. Granted that would also mean a few weeks worth of cow puns tossed her way, but sacrifices must be made.

Of course that would not matter if her timing was wrong. The stool creaked loudly in protest as Amelia scooted her rump forward, coiling her tail tight around its legs. She took a deep breath that hefted up her breasts and held it. With a quick prayer for good luck, she lifted off the chair. It was promptly rocked back by the string mechanism, but was pulled back with her tail just in time to resume sitting on it.

That quick motion had the desired effect. The vat rocked sharply forward to splash a large glob of its contents onto Amelia's waiting cleavage before snapping back into position. She let out a little squeal as the goo dripped across her mounds, soaking the military shirt partially covering them. For something that looked boiling hot it was strangely ice cold on her scales.

"Aah!!" There was little time to lament on that. Amelia looked done in shock to see her pride and joys shaking wildly inside their already tight confines. The formula was seeping straight through her scales to contaminate the fat cells within. They multiplied near instantaneously with a building force that stretched her skin sensitively tight. Amelia's hands tightened into fists as her breathing became heavy. "Ha-hah! Ngggh! Ahhh-hah!"

Just when it felt like those breasts were going to explode, a surge of relief had her squealing in pleasure. The already impressive rack swelled like two inflating balloons. Their already snug jacket instantly became pinching tight as cleavage bulged out over the hem, puckering the remaining three buttons trying to contain what they could. However, Amelia had just enough time to gather her wits after the growth stopped to notice that it only abated some of the pressure inside them.

"HhhggGGAAA-haaAHHH!!" Another surge threatened to knock Amelia off her stool at the onslaught of bliss stroking the nerves that led back to her brain. Thankfully she managed to focus enough to stay steady even as her chest was growing well beyond the point they could be compared to numerous sporting balls. Sadly the jacket could not hold out as well, the top button ripping off with such force one of the remaining chicken guards got struck in the head with a faint 'pang' sound. He went down without being given the slightest consideration from the remaining bird, who had eyes glued on the increased amount of white scaled memories struggling to break out of their confines.

And still their internal pressure had not wholly departed.

"Oh...ooooh...Oh c-come ooooOOONNNGGGHHH!!" Another button lost its battle with mammaries that were growing into a whole new meaning for 'airbags.' The lone survivor strained to hold together what was starting to look more like a bikini top. Each of the snowy scaled orbs bulged over and under the hems of their jacket in a very tight squeeze, desperate to destroy that last button between them and freedom.

Only thing more amazing than their growing size was their complete failure to finish off said jacket. Amelia gave a cry that faded into a whimper at finally feeling the chemical induced pressure wane into a slight ache. She relaxed in labored pants, slumping forward to keep the full weight of her new medicine balls off her stool as much as possible. Thank the maker for innate naga strength or she would have been a grenade soup by now.

Scales glistened with sweat in the pale moon light. Blond hair had become matted and clung down her back. All that growing had stretched the skin something fierce, leaving them quiet tender as they tried to jostle about underneath the jackets thick fabric. The chicken made the experience look a lot less stimulating. Still, Amelia had her counterweight. She just needed a minute, or several, to catch her breath and wait for the heated feeling to leave her cheeks.

Amelia took a quick inventory once her mind was clear. True to her theory only the breasts seemed directly affected by that chemical splash. There might have been some thickness added to the waist and bicep area, but that would hardly be noticeable in a moment.

The guards seemed just as inept as most anthros of their profession Amelia had crossed over the years. The one who had suffered a button rocket still laid unconscious on the floor. That only left one in any state to DO anything counterproductive to the plan. And he currently had several red hearts floating about his head with gaze fixated solely on Amelia's display of cavernous soft flesh. The thought it might have been deliberate had yet to cross his mind.

Flustered, but invigorated at her progress, Amelia set about phase two. Thanks to the weight of her bosoms there was a lot more wiggling room to move her hips without having to keep them wholly on the stool. Hard part was getting into a position that had most of her backside facing the vat without pulling on her cuffs. It took a few pain full minutes of wood groaning, but somehow she managed. Thankfully luck held out. The remaining chicken's full attention remained focused on the near constant movement of her chest.

A bit disturbing, but it made the job a lot easier.

Too bad this was where things got really tricky. Amelia took a deep breath while coiling her naga tail tight around the stool legs. She rose from the seat once again to let the wire yank it away. The simple plan was to let it give enough for an ample splashing and then pull it back to the safety of her butt. Turns out the vat was a lot heavier than it looked. Amelia squealed at just barely catching the stool before too much it got completely pulled out of tail length. Even then, the friction had turned it sideways with no way to adjust it upright without hands.

Not that there was time to attempt such a thing. Cold, viscous, goo splashed across the ample width of Amelia's rear, soaking her skirt, and leaving a small stream that coated the entire length of her tail as it traveled along the floor. She shivered from the chilling effects that soaked through the thick cloth straight into her flesh.

"Aaaaah-haaa!" Being prepared for the assault of sensual tingles did not make them any less intense. Amelia began to do a funky little dance trying to alleviate the pressure mounting in her pelvis. Her skirt fluttered with the hip bumping as flesh bubbled underneath. "H-here..we go againnnnNNGGGHH-HAH!!"

Fatigue was making it hard to hold back the throws of pleasure. Hell, it was all Amelia could manage to keep herself standing as her skirt suddenly became very snug. Another seductive yell signaled that upgraded to painfully tight seconds later. Fat grew in rapidly across the naga's backside, stretching out her skirt like an inflating balloon. It became too much for the casual dress. Bits of soft black scaled flesh poked out from under the hem. Bulging as the space grew tighter in its refusal to give them freedom.

"Oh jeez!" Amelia bit her lip trying to muffing another cry. A really big surge was coming. She could feel it. "C-c-craaaaphha! Ohhh...OOOHH...oooh ssssssss~"

A large groan came from Amelia's butt just before the whole of her waist exploded. According to the chicken, if anyone bothered to ask him later, it sounded a lot like a loud 'fwub' noise. Her already enlarged backside virtually doubled in size, accompanied by hips that thrusting several feet apart. The green skirt never had a chance. Its cries of shredded fabric were drowned out by Amelia's own orgasmic yowls as she bucked at the air. What remained of the formal dress fluttered about the room in tatters, leaving her underside bare to jiggle and wobble as gravity saw fit with the excess of chubby girth.

And boy did those hips like to wobble! Amelia found herself unintentionally humping the air in an effort to keep balance with the constantly shifting mass. So much for buying a new skirt after this job was done. These things were going to need at least two chairs for the debriefing, if not the reception offices couch.

Assuming the collective weight of her butt did not crush it immediately like it was trying to do with her tail. Thankfully the part she was hoping for took effect just in time. Pleasure waned, but not dissolved, as fat flowed from her bodacious junk down to the rest of her tail. It was almost like watching one of those long balloons puffing with air. The trunk gradually widened along its length to become better proportioned with its matching hips. Granted that also helped to better exaggerate how tiny Amelia's uninfected torso and arms looked, even their majority hidden behind her jostling bosoms.

More importantly, it was making her tail longer; much, much longer. Now that was a strange sensation; feeling yourself getting lifted up as feet were rapidly added to the length of your tail under half. When all was said and done Amelia felt ready to collapse in afterglow, but her hood and hair now brushed against the grenade chandelier without any effort to stretch up for it. Another good blessing as she was in need of a minute to catch her breath while shivering from a cold sweat.

She did not get that minute. A loud crunch made her yelp and whip her head down to inspected the end of her tail. She had never loosened her grip on the stool and had accidently crushed it in the sudden expansion of girth.

"Aw crap..." she said between labored pants. Eyes suddenly went wide as the sound of zipping rope and groaning of metal behind her reminded the naga of other important factors." AW CRAP!!"

Amelia whipped back towards the vat too late to dodge, but just in time to give her beach ball breasts another bath in what remained of the containers chemical trap before falling onto the floor with a ringing clang. She could only whimper whole watching the goo absorb into her tender flesh. Its effects were happening a lot faster without the obstruction of clothing.

"Crap! Crap! Crr...rrraahhh...AHH! AAH!" Amelia arched her back while crying to the heavens. Her massive rack pushed forward shaking violently behind the one button keeping her jacket together. The massive white orbs continually spilled over and under the tight fabric in desperate need of freedom.

Her already exhausted mind became too mixed in the mounting bliss to notice her guard had finally caught on to something. Sure it was a damn good show for his cheap pay of dried corn, but the trap had not gone as the boss had intended. That either meant the hot snake lady was trying to escape or the ridiculousness of the plan had failed to somehow flow together. Either way, he had very specific instructions on what to do now; aim his RPG, reluctantly, at the massive pair of melons looking like they were being boiled from the inside.

That was when Amelia's last button finally decided it had lived a good life. The small plastic disc fired off with a sharp snap right into the rocket being aimed at it. Its force was enough to jolt the chickens aim directly into beneath him at the same time wing clasps around the trigger. An explosion erupted into a nice crater in the tiled floor that could be used to install a fountain or spa. The chicken himself landed on a dusty plate from one of the nearby tables. Most of his feathers had been stripped of the blast, which left him to dazed to do anything for a while save look like an underprepared rotisserie chicken.

Meanwhile, Amelia was too lost in the pleasure of growing breasts to notice any of that. Her bust surged out an addition three feet into the air, stopped, and then fell forward as gravity asserted control over her potato sacs of fat. Good thing for the extra tail length. She managed to grab a hold of the chandelier before her face plated on the floor.

Adjusting to the new weight took a minute. During which time Amelia began to pout. Her babies had grown beyond any bra size she knew of. Upon straightening up they came to rest like an apron down to the navel while still making it impossible to see the ground. Even the areolas had expanded to look like hubcaps atop each white-scaled mountain. Looked like all that coin in the cliché jar was going to have to be for a tailored bra. This crap better wear off or a failed trap was going to be that scientist's second biggest mistake tonight.

"Hissss~" Amelia shivered at a cold breeze sweeping over her naked body. Cheeks blushed a bit as her nipples became visibly hard. Okay, maybe there were some perks to such a drastic transformation. All that expanding had stretched out her scales, leaving the hide underneath exposed and incredibly sensitive. There were also quite a few co-workers on her speed dial that might get a kick out of such a 'heavy set' lady.

"Oy! Snap out of it!" she yelled to herself. This was hardly a time for picking a date, no matter how sensual the past couple of minutes had been. There was still half a trap to escape from and the unintended mass of her breasts were going to make this a bit harder.

Amelia tugged on the chandelier with all the strength her tired body could muster in the hopes gravity could help this time. Sadly it was of no use. The chemicals effects may have been one of the best physical experiences of her life, but the naga was totally drained. No wonder the scientist had expected the grenades to finish her.

Little hip dances resumed, although with much more jiggling, as Amelia tried to think. Picking the chain off would be near impossible. Soon as she let go of the chandelier her mass was sure to pull her down well beyond the hair wires safety range. Perhaps a large amount of force could shatter the frame. But how could he do that without being able to move her hands!?

Oh, if only those damn things would stop swishing around with her every move. They made it near impossible to focus!

All train of thought came to a screeching halt. Once again it was like Amelia stumbled onto an answer right in front of her face. And this time literally as her eyes skimmed down to the massive cleavage jamming all lower vision. They looked up to the chandelier, calculating them to be less than a foot apart.

There had been far worse ideas performed in this line of work. And this one was not going to be shared even if it somehow worked.

"Huff! Huff!" Amelia began to rock her body back and forth. Arm muscles screamed in agony as she tried to lift herself up with the chandelier for extra momentum. That chain must have been really forged to last if it was holding a naga that must have gained at least three hundred extra pounds.

The roof, on the other hand, groaned and splintered at the beams from her rapidly increasing swing. Large chunks of plaster and wood began to fall around Amelia, but she continued on. This was going to have to be done right on the first go or she might end up committing suicide via structural collapse.

When her next motion reached its apex Amelia pushed off the ground with everything her tail had left. She arched her back pulling up to swing her chest right into the chandelier. Both glamorous orbs collided into it with a resounding 'fwoomp' like she had tried with a pair of very soft pillows. Suddenly this seemed like a very bad plan as she watched her breasts squish around the metal frame virtually harmless to the chandelier. The pain that jolted through her extended nerves was going to linger for a while.

Just before the swing finished its ending apex there came a loud cracking noise from directly.

"YEEEK!" Amelia was not sure what happened at first. She just barely had time to register the force suspending her had ceased before her thick bottomed cushioned the short fall back to earth. "Oooooowwwww!!"

Bits of metal tinkled across the tiled floor around Amelia, dotted with thicker thunks of more solid objects. It only took a second for Amelia to realize those could only be one thing. Letting out a curse, she jolted upright ready to bolt for the nearest window. Checking hands revealed they were still cuffed, but only had a piece of the chandeliers center still chained to it. The rest of the old decoration had been completely shattered thanks to epic naga breast smacking. As for the grenades themselves, she quickly followed all the connected wires to their respected explosive device.

"Oh, for the love of..." Amelia could only face palm with relieved laughter. Only now was it clearly seen that the moron scientist had completely failed to set his trap right. The wires had been tied to the grenades, yes, but to their levers instead of the pins. There were better odds of setting them off by smacking her shackles against them.

"Well, this has certainly been an experience. Yeah...I'll go with that." Amelia giggled while reaching into her hair for one of the thick needles she kept hidden behind her cobra hood. It took less than a turn of the wrist to get the cuffs off. After which she slumped against the overturned vat panting heatedly.

Now that they were free, Amelia could not help exploring her hands across new curves larger and softer than even the finest silk cushions. Her body still felt fairly raw from its ordeal. Every little touch or pinch elected a tired moan from her lips. This did not feel so bad, long as it was short term. Otherwise this was looking at a good five months of intense work outs to burn all the fat. Somehow she doubted the company insurance would cover liposuction.

Either way, the first person that called her 'couch butt' was getting sat on.

It was on that thought the double doors slammed open in a wash of fresh light.

"I heard a lot of crashing and an explosion!" The scientist chuckled as he strutted on in. "I knew that snakes reputation was too much hogwash to live up to my geni-OW! God blast it!"

The static haired man tripped in failure to notice the unconscious chicken guard sprawled across the floor. A bump still stuck out in a prominent swell from his forehead, but otherwise seemed to be peacefully comatose. Sitting up he then noticed the other chicken still smoking lightly on a nearby table. From there his gaze scanned across the wreckage his month of work had been reduced to. Mouth fell slightly ajar trying to process the sight and its serious lack of charred naga pieces.

"What the hell guys!?" he screamed at the partially fattened chicken. It just returned a dirty look while trying to use its balled shape as a form of movement to get to a newly made exit. Continued angry ranting from his boss went unheard. "You're supposed to be the deadliest chickens brain tampered science can provide. How could you fail to blow up one moronic snake!?"

A dark shadow loomed over the crazy man, making him glance up at what appeared to be a wall of shinning white scales bearing down on him. There was just enough time to recognize the two zeppelins with black heads as breasts before giving a brief scream.

Amelia did not falter in her slithering. She felt the mad man's face smack against the underside of her breasts before proceeding to smother it with the underside of her tail. The lengthy trunk jiggled and contracted several times in its effort to propel herself over the wanna-be captor. Around the halfway point her tail began to thin out enough to reveal the man's body again, by which point he had ceased struggling. In fact he had been rendered helplessly imprinted through the tiles of the floor.

Still, Amelia could not help giving him a smack with her tail tip for the 'moronic' comment. That got a meek yelp from the barely conscious man to signal his ability to, somehow, be still alive. Guess disappointments are bound to happen even in victory. Never the less every threat working this shoddy place was now incapacitated. This called for a victory celebration involving whatever booze they had stored. After by taking everything of value back to headquarters sounded like a good severance pay.

"OOF!!" Amelia blushed at suddenly getting rocked back. Her jutted hips and breasts had squished tight against the doorframe yet failed to pass through. "You damn, moronic scientist..."

Partially turning sideways allowed the naga to squeeze her way into the, thankfully, wider hallway. Making her way out to the grand entrance hall, knocking over old paintings and vase columns along the way, Amelia began to hope to find a garage or something for delivering supplies. Otherwise she might have to use a grenade or two on the walls.

Already her mind was working on a way that could be turned into a Die Hard kind of explosion dodging escape for the water cooler. It was a much less embarrassing closure to this practice run than, 'My ass got too big for the front door.'

END.