"Let's try this Lazer Tag set. Whoever is the last to 'die', that is get three hits on their target, gets to stay Sharon."
"But surely you don't have enough for all of us!" one of the Sharons asks.
"Wrong! I just happen to have twelve pistols and targets right here. And don't call me Shirley."
After a quick trip to the store for a bagful of batteries, Jim handed out the equipment. Since the girls were all naked, the first question asked was "Where the hell do we put the targets, Jim??" Jim had several sets of the strap-on vest to attach the targets to, but they wouldn't fit over the Sharons' new and improved breasts. Fortunately, on the same trip to the store he'd picked up twelve sets of identical T-shirts and shorts in Sharon's size. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten about her new proportions; their breasts were now squeezed in pretty tightly, while the shorts were in danger of falling off.
Once they were all dressed (complaining about the bad fit and the lack of underwear), they hooked the targets to the front of their shirts, then retired to the back yard, where there would be room enough to play. The girls all found themselves good starting positions, and Jim gave the command to begin.
The shooting was pretty wild for a while. The various Sharons all seemed to have the same strategy, to keep moving and fire at every target they saw. Finally, though, somebody's target got hit.
Sharon heard the electronic noise that her target made when it took a hit, and cried "Shit!" She immediately ducked and ran for cover, but was distracted by a tight feeling in her chest. A ripping sound made her stop and look down -- her breasts were growing! They were swelling rapidly, and ripping their way right out of her T-shirt! Sharon tried to cover them with her arms, but they continued to push outwards. They finally stopped when they were as big as volleyballs.
A couple of the other Sharons had noticed and were staring at her, the game forgotten. Another Sharon took the opportunity and hit them both with quick shots right on the targets. The electronic sirens sounded, and within seconds their breasts were ripping their way out of their T-shirts too! They cried out in alarm and tried to hold them back, but to no avail. Their "perfect" bodies weren't so perfect anymore, to their points of view.
Jim called out from the sidelines. "Sorry, should have mentioned -- this is a set that Rick and I did some 'work' on a while back! Better get back in the game, you don't want to get hit again!" Jim chuckled merrily.
The three topless girls hefted their pistols determinedly, then began looking for new targets. First, of course, repositioning their own targets to just above the ripped-open part of their shirts. Fair play, after all!
Tue Jul 20 20:31:36 1999
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