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Daddy's Dolly - new story starring breast implants!

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I am not a good girl anymore.
Daddy always says I’m his pretty princess and a good girl, but after what we did I am really not sure.
I had to.

You see, I am the younger of two siblings with my sister Nora, but we couldn’t be more different: Nora is a tall brunette with all the brains and I’m Claire, a petite blonde who always struggle with her homework.
I couldn’t get much help from Daddy because he was always busy with his practice. I used to hate him for that, but in time I understood he just did it all to allow us the best home in which to live and grow up.

Even like that, me and Nora were never that close: while I played with my dolls and put on pretend-makeup she read books all day. I started to discover boys (wow, boys!) while she just threw herself more into her studies. She left for college two years ago and since then I have been more or less alone in the big house, with nothing to do.
Even if I have been eighteen for a few weeks by now, Daddy still stops me from going outside on my own, I always have to ask for permission first.
So nothing to do besides lazing about on the couch and scroll through my insta feed

That was when it happened, I think. Maybe I always knew, but that was when I first noticed.
Like, concisiously.
Being-aware-of-thing, you get what I mean.

I have a nice profile with a lot of pics, though Daddy follows me and makes sure I never post anything that shows too much skin. Even like that, I sit at about twenty thousand followers, most of them of course are men.
And I am at an age when a girl, you know, totally gets urges.
Daddy never wants his pretty princess to get soiled, so I am not allowed to go out and I’m not allowed to have a boyfriend unless he’s, like, perfect according to Daddy’s standards, but that’s not what I noticed.
What I noticed was that bitch Stefania suddenly has double the amount of my followers?!
Like, WTF, right?

I scroll through her posts and notice she’s showing off a big pair of rounded boobs she definitely did not have a few weeks ago!
“That lying bitch!” I hiss. So that’s what she got done when she went to Mexico for her vacation! She told us all she was just going to lazy about on a beach! “What a dirty slut,” I mutter, looking at all the comments of horny men complimenting her on her new rack. “Stupid two-timing cunt, I hope she, like, catches super-AIDS,” I say with a frown.

Damn, but those boobs look good on her.

Stefania is a pretty Latina who’s just a few inches taller than me, has nice long hair (not as nice as mine!) and a totally-huge booty.
I can see why she decided to balance that one out.
And now her followers count sits at over forty-five thousands, all in the last few weeks!
What’s even worse I can spot some people who haven’t left a comment on my pictures are drooling all over her cleavage.
Men, I swear. Total pigs.

And now I’m mad, so I throw my phone onto the couch and stand up to take a look at myself in the mirror.

I think I stand out: I mean, I’m not tall, but I’m well-built at five feet, with long blonde hair (the nicest in class!) and my face is model-like with a straight nose, large blue eyes (like Mama, though I only noticed that thanks to pictures) and a dash of freckles. Then I look down at my slight build, covering the two tiny bumps on my chest and grimace. These are barely a B-cup and only on a good day. Mama was no different, she was a lot like me, while Nora got, like, all of Daddy’s genes, so she shot up at almost six feet.

“Those fuckers don’t know what they are missing,” I groan, turning to show off my booty and my slender legs. I’m like, a nine out of ten!
Why should they slobber over some ditz with cock on the brain and a pair of big rounded tits on her chest?!

“Those are fake,” I spit out and a I feel a weird shiver go through my body, starting from my thumping chest and then to my stomach that’s twisted in a knot to my pussy. I clench my thighs and can feel the word echo in my brain. Fake, fake fake. Why does it feel so good to think about it?

I have seen my share of breast implants in my life. Like, whenever Daddy brought us to dinner with his colleagues at work I could see almost all their wives looked the same: vapid blondes with painted smiles on their faces and pumped-up boobs that were at dinner just to giggle and gossip and look good and maybe for a quick blowie in the bathroom when the others pretended not to notice.
But I always thought: yuck, those look heavy! Double-yuck!

So now, as I move my fingers to cup my small boobs and spread them over the slight fat mounds as my nipples get rock-hard and my breath hitches, why do I feel so aroused at the thought of looking like that?
Of… getting implants myself?
A flash goes through my mind: stepping down a staircase in a dress with no bra, my new tits dominating my chest, wobbling only slightly with each step. I am grinning and people are all looking at me, only at me.

“Hmmm, what’s going onnn,” I grumble as I have to squeeze my thighs together. I’m going to soil my panties if I keep thinking about…
“Stefania, you stupid cunt,” I hiss. What is she doing to me now? I feel so light-headed at the thought of looking like her, getting my own new perk pair.
Maybe I could do the same and go to Mexico and then-
“Fffuck,” I hiss. Daddy doesn’t like me using swear words, but he’s not here so it doesn’t matter. I squeeze my boobs and feel how tiny and unsatisfying they are even against my small hands.

No wonder Stefania gets all the attention now.
I want that!
I want to show that two-timing bitch what happens when you steal a girl’s followers!
But it’s not like I can, just, like, take a flight on my own and pay for new boobies.
I mean, I could totally sell one of my Fendi bags, but then all the others would, like, feel totally alone!
That'd be like, totally uncool.

I slowly go back to the couch and pick up my phone again.
At the bottom of Stefania’s pics I spot the #newboobs tag.
Squirming, squeezing my thighs to keep my clenching pussy from making a mess on Daddy’s precious couch, I tap on it and I gasp.
“New boobs,” I whisper under my breath as I scroll through the pics.
My other hand raises to cup my right breast. They really do feel lacking now.
More than ever.

But... I totally have an ace up my sleeve.
A few weeks ago, Daddy promised me I could have anything I wanted for my eighteen birthday.
And I have taken my time to decide, as Daddy’s been abroad due to his job and is only coming back today… so we couldn’t setup a party, just the two of us.
Like, I was thinking on getting a car but it’s not like he’s gonna allow me to actually drive it.
“Anything, huh?”
A grin spreads over my lips.
He’ll be tired from the flight… and I bet he's gonna cry for a good handjob.
Time to get Daddy in the mood.

Author's notes: thanks for reading! I'm an erotica author and I never actually considered the fascination with implants, but as of late something changed and I feel way more drawn to them now, so I wanted to write something about it. I started with something I am familiar with, I hope it was right and it did feel good.

If things go well and I get into it I might set up commissions, but for the time being I want to make sure I get the feeling right.

Let me know what you think please, I want to get better at writing stories with silicone under this pen name.


Bimbo Monja:
Just waaaw!!please continue!

Yes,  we definition bed more of this. 


--- Quote from: dimen on August 02, 2022, 11:15:05 pm ---Just waaaw!!please continue!

--- End quote ---

Thanks! I will try to keep it up soon! Next update we'll see some balloons, though maybe not the kind you expect... not yet.

--- Quote from: Gryzz on August 03, 2022, 02:50:52 pm ---Yes,  we definition bed more of this. 

--- End quote ---

I'm glad you enjoyed it. I was a little nervous I had it got completely wrong. I hope as the story continues you'll like it more and more and I manage to capture what makes this fetish work. Reading around the forum sure is helping!

Can't wait for more


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