Just In News: Tits at Eleven
The screen buzzed awake.
An elegant red graphic flashed across the bottom of the Just In News broadcast—BREAKING NEWS: FEMA EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION—as the camera eased into the glossy studio, settling on Savannah Lane, perfectly poised at the anchor desk. Her golden blonde hair gleamed under the lights, swept into a voluminous wave that framed her icy blue eyes. Her pale brown blazer was tailored tight across the chest, hinting at curves—modest, for now.
“Good evening,” she began, voice satin-smooth, professional. “We begin with an urgent alert from the CDC. A previously undocumented viral pathogen—now designated BIMBO-19—has been confirmed across multiple states. It’s colloquially being called ‘The Bimbo Virus,’ or the ‘Bounce Virus.’”
She swallowed. Shifted in her chair.
“Symptoms include… abnormal swelling of breast tissue, rapid cognitive decline, and…” her voice faltered slightly, “an uncontrollable increase in sexual desire.”
There was a pause. Her spine straightened almost too stiffly. Something tugged beneath her blazer—something rounder. Fuller.
Savannah blinked. Her breath shallowed. She looked down.
The tight fabric across her chest twitched. Rose. Swelled.
“I… I seem to be—uhnn—experiencing something…”
A button burst. Then another.
The camera zoomed in on its own, catching the moment her blouse strained wide open across a pair of inflating breasts—swelling, bouncing softly with each pulse of heat under her skin. Savannah’s eyes went glassy as she cupped one of them. Her breath hitched.
“Ohhh… oh my god,” she whispered. “My tits—what’s happening—I’m still live—”
The camera operator didn’t cut away. Didn’t even try. He zoomed in further, tightening the shot until Savannah’s soft, swelling cleavage filled the frame. Another moan slipped out as her bra snapped beneath the pressure, thick creamy tits wobbling free and slapping into her lap.
“I can’t…” she whimpered. “I need cock… like, right now…”
She was humping the anchor desk now, moaning openly, her mouth slack with pleasure.
Off-camera shouting: “Cut to weather! Cut to fucking weather—now!”
Hard cut.
The feed jumped to Tatiana Velázquez, Just In News’s weather girl, standing in front of the digital forecast. Her mocha skin glowed, and her long brunette curls bounced against her shoulders. She wore a red dress that was way too tight now—already tugging at the seams.
“Hi everyone!” she chirped, trying to stay perky. “Let’s look at the temp—ah!”
Her voice cracked as her dress lifted off her chest, tugged skyward by a sudden surge of tit. Her eyes widened. She dropped her pointer. Gasped.
The camera panned lower—her tits throbbed beneath the sundress, nipples clearly hard, straining the fabric. She arched her back as they bounced, jiggled, swelled again, until the neckline tore.
“Omigod—what’s happening to meee~?” she moaned.
The camera zoomed again—focused in as her tits ripped the dress wide open, tits bursting out heavy, glossy, and aching. Her nipples bounced with every twitch of her hips.
“It feels soooooooo good!” Tatiana moaned, dropping to her knees. “I wanna bounce! Daddy I wanna bounnnnnce!”
She pulled her tits together in front of the camera and made a wet kissy face at the lens. “Put it in me! Teehee~”
“FIELD REPORT! GET TO THE FIELD!” someone screamed.
Another cut.
The screen blurred, stabilized—Roxie Burns, redhead fireball and field reporter, came into view. Her long hair flew in the wind as she gripped the mic with gloved hands, speaking rapidly in a downtown intersection eerily empty behind her.
“I’m reporting live from downtown Chicago, where multiple men and women have been seen collapsing mid-transformation. The virus seems to induce breast expansion and extreme—”
She hunched suddenly.
“Oh no—no, fuck, it’s—it’s in me—”
Her coat twisted—then her chest punched forward. Her tits surged outward, tearing through her undershirt in seconds. She screamed—not in pain, but pure carnal bliss.
“FUUUCK! It’s in my titties! They’re—bouncing—!”
The handheld camera jiggled but stayed trained on her. Her nipples popped free as her top shredded, revealing a pair of tits so round and swollen they looked like they were begging to be filmed. She grabbed them, bounced them. Moaned again.
“I wanna cum—I wanna get fucked on live TV!”
The broadcast sputtered.
It cut back briefly to the studio: Savannah bent over the desk, humping it, tongue out. Tatiana now topless on her back, legs open, giggling, fingers deep between her thighs as her massive tits bounced like water balloons. Roxie had thrown her mic aside and was now straddling a mail dropbox, tits smashing together with every frantic grind of her hips.
All three moaning. All three smiling. All three bimbos.
The screen fuzzed.
⚠️ FINAL MESSAGE FROM FEMA BROADCAST NETWORK ⚠️
All known Just In News personnel are confirmed infected with BIMBO-19.
Symptoms include breast hyperexpansion, nymphomania, total collapse of cognitive resistance.
⚠️ THE BOUNCE VIRUS IS UNCONTAINED ⚠️
💗 Cum. Bounce. Obey. 💗
