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Help, My Boobs Are Shrinking!

May 1, 2013

I am re-posting a guest post I wrote in June for Rosanna Leo’s blog, with her permission, of course! If you haven’t yet, please check out Rosanna Leo’s blog. She is beyond fabulous.


Help! My Boobs Are Shrinking!


In my mother’s typical delicate fashion she told me I had gained a few pounds. I can’t remember her entire warning but I clearly recall the words, “getting your chunk on.”


So I responded as any reasonable daughter would. I accused her of projecting, called her a few choice words and stormed home to spend several minutes hopping on and off my scale. See, I didn’t like the immediate results so I tried several methods – stealth mode, clothes on, clothes off, moving the scale to different areas of my apartment, etc. After many failed attempts to cajole, coerce, threaten and beg the scale to give different results I gave up. Obviously the scale, much like my mother’s observational skills, was totally defective.


The next day I met my mother at a pool party. I commented that her pants were a little tight and she responded in kind. Then we ate cake. Delicious, delicious birthday cake. I’m not sure when the snap on my jeans gave up on holding in my gut but I do know it was about the time my mother’s muffin top noticeably extended over her jeans. It was also about the time that the hostess, a stick of a woman wearing a tiny black bikini that I suspect she purchased in the ‘tween section, complained she needed to lose five pounds.


My mom and I looked at each other and mouthed the word, “bitch.” Then we looked down at our bellies and, using the telepathic connection that only mothers and daughters can develop, decided it was time to go on a diet. We also decided that changing into our own bikinis would not be in our immediate future.


We ditched the party early and I went home to consider my weight gain, which in turn made me consider the fact that I am not in my teens any more. I mean, I always knew my body would go to pot at some point way off in that obscure, distant future but I did not know “pot” would include a pot belly.


So now I’m on a diet. Okay, not a real diet but I have stopped eating jelly beans for breakfast and I’ve cut out the daily grande, extra fattening, double whip chocolate espresso thing I enjoy so much. The results so far have been mixed. Enter my boyfriend’s comments.


“Wow, Babe. You look awesome. I don’t remember those jeans fitting so well. Have you lost weight?”


“Yes,” I answered miserably. “My boobs have shrunk.”


“The boobs haven’t shrunk! The boobs are perfect. Your ass has definitely shrunk, though. You look hot.”


“You really think so? I love my boobs. I would much rather have a fat ass than shrunken boobs.”


“Trust me. Your boobs are the same size.”


Feeling better about myself, I continued on with my deprivation of all things gooey and sweet and wonderful. After all, it was for a good cause. I have a bikini to sausage myself into at some point.


A couple nights later, however, the truth was revealed. My boyfriend and I were in bed. He snuggled against me, taking his usual position as the big spoon with his hand glommed onto my breast. As he was drifting off to sleep, he mumbled, “Hmm…you were right. Your boobs have shrunk.”


“AAACK!!!” I spring up and glare down at him. Too late, he’s already asleep.


I briefly consider waking him up but decide instead to call my mom. After all, this is entirely her fault right? Here is how that conversation went:






“Who is this?”


“It’s your fat ass daughter with the shrinking boobs.”


“Are you seriously calling me at 2 in the morning to tell me your boobs are shrinking?”


“Oh like you wouldn’t do the same?”


“Oh D.C., just get a boob job.”


“I don’t want a boob job. You get a boob job.”


“Hmm, maybe I should. I need a new look. The weight loss thing isn’t going so well. Maybe I should just get bigger boobs so no one will notice that I’ve gained weight.”


“You are insane.”


“Yes, well. At least my boobs aren’t shrinking.”


The conversation went downhill from there.

Anyway, it has been about a fortnight now and my boobs are still here. I am closely monitoring the situation, folks but I wouldn’t mind any positive vibes, voodoo magic or boob growing potion you may have on hand sent my way.


Contribute to D.C.’s Boob Job Fund. The Rental, a fun and quick erotic story, and The Wedding, a follow up to The Rental are both available now!

9 Comments leave one →
  1. May 1, 2013 11:18 am

    OMG, D.C. – thanks for the Wednesday laugh. Love starting my day with a big high. AND, I totally get the whole boob shrinking thing…it’s been a while since mine have taken a nose dive *grins* BUT, finally, mine are also shrinking. My pot-belly…not so much…but I am making some progress *grins* I can’t give up the skinny-biggest-lattes…oh, and I can’t give up dark chocolate – but do those two things really count in the grand scheme of weight loss?

    • May 7, 2013 1:43 pm

      Skinny lattes and dark chocolate are not diet hindrances, they are diet aids, in my opinion. Good for you on not giving up the diet aids. No one likes a quitter.

  2. May 2, 2013 2:33 pm

    You poor dear. I worry a little about this as I attempt to shed a few pounds. However, currently my breasts do not fit the ‘cheap’ bra sizes. If I shrink down to a D, I’ll be jumping up and down with glee!

    • May 7, 2013 1:45 pm

      I have officially gone from a slightly overflowing C cup to a slightly underwhelming C cup. I could probably stuff myself into a B. Sigh.

  3. May 3, 2013 10:57 pm

    I sympathize. I have been as large as a “MM” when I was pregnant and as small as a “B” when not. I was always saddest when they returned to their so-called “normal” size. 🙂

    • May 7, 2013 1:50 pm

      That is terrible! No woman should have to go through such drastic boob changes without first picking the ones she wants from a catalogue and forking over thousands of dollars to a creepy doctor. That way if they ever revert to a version of their original state, she can sue until she makes all of her money back and then some, and then use that money for other problem areas.

  4. May 5, 2013 2:00 am

    Ugh! I had a month long flu a while back and they shrank half a size. My husband had to hear the panicked complaining “Of all places! Why couldn’t I have lost weight in my size # Butt?!?” Still trying to put the weight back on them, while continuing the waist and butt shrinkage. *sigh*

    • May 7, 2013 1:54 pm

      Holy hell, wouldn’t that be awesome if we could catch a bug that made our asses shrink two sizes? I would lick every lamp post I came across until I caught it.

      • May 9, 2013 6:45 pm

        Oh my gosh! I about spat my scrambled eggs across the room. Thanks for the laugh. :))

        Seriously, though, if we discovered a virus that shrank butts a couple sizes we would be billionaires. lol

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