Kronii had been to Cover’s offices only once before, and that outing had been conveniently guided along by an employee fluent in her native language. Now, on her own, the Japanese signage on the lobbies and hallways were far more difficult to parse.

“Excuse me, are you looking for someone?” a voice called out from behind. He was a man in his mid-thirties, well-groomed, and clad in the same corporate dress code she’d seen dozens of times on the way up here. More importantly, he spoke English.

“Uh, yeah, thanks. I’m looking for Conference Room 2? The front desk said it was around here but I’m not sure anymore.”

“You can turn left at the end of the hallway, take the stairs down, and it will be the first one after the...” The man trailed off. His eyes fixed none too subtly on Kronii’s breasts while he adjusted his tie and completed his thought. “...the first one after the fax machine. It shouldn’t be locked but let me know if there’s any problems.”

Kronii nodded along politely and pulled on her overcoat a little tighter, keeping one arm over her bust. It was clear that, despite trying to bury her curves beneath multiple layers of winter apparel, her chest was as prominent and eye-catching as ever.

“Great, thanks again!” Kronii turned on her heels and sped down the hallway, a light blush on her cheeks from the excess of attention.

The man watched her hurry off and nearly trip on her own feet. On the way back to his desk, he found himself horribly distracted by a single tantalizing question: if her tits looked that big under all that clothing, how incredible would they be out in the open?

–
–

Two minutes later, Kronii arrived at her destination. She opened the door, timidly, so as to not interrupt any discussions within. To her relief, there were no stiff suits or unfamiliar faces. Instead, all of Council were seated at a long executive table and facing the wall to her right. Most of the furniture on that side had been pushed to the perimeter, leaving a vast space in front of the girls like they were a panel of interviewers waiting to indulge a potential employee. Something about that layout unsettled her.

Bae perked up and waved at her from across the table. “Kronii! Finally, we thought you weren’t gonna make it.”

“I know, I know. I got a little turned around in here.” Kronii noticed an empty seat amidst the girls and went to sit down.

“...You don't want to take that off?” Bae asked, looking at her heavy russet overcoat. “There’s a coat rack right over there.”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks. It’s, uh…actually kind of cold in here.”

Bae’s eyes narrowed. “Bro, I can see the sweat on your neck. You really okay like that?”

“It’s fine, I-”

“Please don’t sit down yet, Kronii!” A-chan interrupted from the back of the room. “We’re promoting everyone’s new idol look today and you’re starting us off.” Her hands were busy flicking through a crowded rack of tri-colored outfits. She picked one out, draped the clothes over her forearm, and balanced a pair of high heel boots on top. Briskly walking to the center of that eerily empty space, she beckoned Kronii over with her free hand.

“Huh? Wait, me? I’m first?” Kronii reflexively shrunk down in her seat, hands heavy like stones in her coat pockets. “I’m not…that good at idol stuff. We should have Bae take the lead. Or Mumei! She’s great at this!”

“It’s fiiine~, don’t worry about it.” Bae folded her hands behind her head and gave Kronii a comforting smile. “We all gotta go eventually, so it’s good to get it over with, yeah?”

That was true enough. Kronii took two measured breaths, got up, and stood next to A-chan. She took the garment in her hands, unconsciously stroking her fingers against the silken material. Even in its folded up state, she could sense the craftsmanship necessary to design and weave something of this caliber. Kronii questioned– as she had the first time her debut outfit was revealed –whether something so beautiful belonged on her body.

The two women stood there for a moment, Kronii tight-lipped and staring awkwardly at her gift while A-chan hovered around with an expectant smile.

Eventually A-chan tilted her head. “Um…Kronii? Are you going to get changed?”

“Yeah! Sorry. Where’s the changing room, again? I didn’t see one out there.”

The manager directed her attention to a door frame draped with red curtains. A glossy placard sat above the entrance, likely reading “Changing Room”.

“Right. Thank you!” Kronii’s grip tightened around the bundle of clothes as she power walked over to get dressed.

The other girls watched her every move intently. In unison, once Kronii disappeared behind the curtains, they removed something from their pockets and set it on the table.

–
–

The changing room was spacious, but also filled with a dim orange light that made it hard to make out the details of anything more than a few feet away. Strangely, it also lacked a standing mirror, meaning Kronii’s first impression of her outfit would have to come by proxy from the eyes of her genmates.

She set her personal items on a nearby wooden stool and quickly stripped down to her underwear. Her coat, sweater, jeans, and t-shirt formed a sizable dark lump in the corner of the dressing room. The sharp smell of sweat drifted off her bare skin. She would have liked to wipe herself down or apply another pass of deodorant, but she didn’t have that luxury.

Okay, here we go.

Assembling the outfit took longer than expected. Every time she slipped herself into another frilly, silky, or form-fitting article of clothing, her mind relapsed into the same slurry of calloused insecurities. This is too tight. It’s showing off way too much of my chest! Should the skirt really be that short? Why do I feel a breeze down there? I shouldn’t be wearing something like this!

Multiple times she had to sit down and sternly address herself to settle her nerves. Stop worrying so much, you’re just not used to these kinds of clothes. All the other girls are gonna be wearing this, it’s normal for idols. Besides, it’s only for one day out of the year. Still, her rationalizations were small comfort for the inner voice pleading to cover up and power down.

For Kronii, this was uncharted territory. She could easily crop herself on stream or rush through certain body parts during outfit reveals, but here…she was trapped.

Her internal crisis would have to wait. Kronii made some final adjustments, practiced her best “It’s great to be here!” smile, then parted the hanging curtains.

The overhead office lights felt brighter. She could feel the building’s central heating racing past her exposed leg and midriff. It was harder to breathe, either from the deluge of adrenaline or the absurd tightness squeezing around her breasts. Moving her hips felt wrong somehow. Her hands remained clenched at her sides, shoulders tensed and uncomfortable like a child brought out to a school play they’d never auditioned for.

She managed to find the center of the room without ever raising her head or making eye contact. She wanted to lead with a cocky flourish of self-confidence, but in the moment she could only manage, “W-well? Here I am…I guess…”

The panel of four idols and one manager was silent. Awestruck, more accurately. Kronii’s outfit was after all a technical masterpiece. Small ribbons of sapphire adorned her waist and wrists like jewels, while larger versions cascaded down the back of her skirt. The bouncy frills gracing the hem of her skirt neatly occupied the space between cute and elegant. Wisely moderated splashes of color and plaid patterns broke up the wide swaths of faded blue and charcoal black around her chest.

But what really stunned the crowd and kept their breath firmly held was how all those pieces looked when wrapped around Kronii’s full, enviable hourglass figure

The lone legging running up her left side was skintight, arcing beautifully along the rhythm of her calf and thigh’s musculature. The garter belt on the opposite side was similarly fitted, hugging and emphasizing the plumpness of her upper thigh without being uncomfortable to wear. Further up, the spats that were intended as a concession for modesty worked vigorously in the opposite direction; they did technically fit, if only barely, but were tight and thin enough to show off every detail of what they covered. When combined with a skirt that was not only too high but also missing most of the front-facing pleats, the shape of Kronii’s fat mons peeked out from behind her skirt like she had dipped her lower half in black body paint.

Capping off the ensemble and casting her entire midsection in shadow, Kronii’s enormous, head-turning tits had all but burst free from her top. The triangular boob window was blown out to an area two hands wide and brimming with pale, sweaty cleavage. The very structure of her collared crop top was pulled dangerously taught and micro-tears were already running along the seams simply from holding up the weight of her audacious milk bags. Kronii’s bust bounced and swayed as she shifted awkwardly on her feet, pulling five sets of eyes along for the ride.

There was nothing to hide behind anymore. No clothes, edits, or PNGs stood between the world and all of Kronii’s outrageously feminine charms.

“Guys…? Hello? Does it look good or what?”

Cameras started flashing. Kronii looked up in cold shock to see all attendees wielding some manner of cell phone or digital camera in hand. Small detonations of white light ran up and down the table like a string of firecrackers. The first couple of shots in particular had immortalized her panic perfectly.

Before Kronii could object or motion to cover her more sensitive areas, the girls got up and started orbiting Kronii’s flustered figure in search of dangerous new angles. They dropped to their knees, stood on their toes, and shoved their lenses inches from her body. Within their viewfinders were thighs, cleavage, nape, shoulders, bold upskirts, and impersonal headshots. Every sweaty crevice, from armpits to underboob, was recorded to digital mass-reproducible memory.

“Um, wait, guys? Guys! I don’t– this is a little m-much.” Kronii’s voice threatened to break on the last word. Small beads of tears tickled the corners of her eyes. Her hands darted to her chest, then down to her crotch, then over her butt, but there was only so much of her bombshell body that could be covered at one time, and the girls were quick to reposition to the unguarded areas.

“But you’re sooo~ pretty, Kronii! You’re like a model,” IRyS gushed from behind. She was on her knees with her phone angled perfectly under the warden’s skimpy half-skirt, lining up a high resolution shot of Kronii’s huge, bouncy, spats-clad ass.

Flash.

“Yeah! We need to go shopping again, there’s so many cute outfits I need you to try on now!” Fauna circled to her right and grabbed her seventh shot of Kronii’s impressive sideboob.

Flash.

The whirlwind of snapping light and breathy compliments resounded all around Kronii, driving her heartbeat to her ears and further warming the skin on her cheeks. Their words, so genuine and well-intended, soon overlaid and blended together into a horrifying meaningless stream of noise. All these girls Kornii felt so insecure standing next to were now fawning over her looks and obsessing over the curves she’d tried so hard to downplay for years.

“So cute!”

“So sexy!”

“So girly!”

A lone frustrated tear escaped from her eye. Kronii grit her teeth and tried to pull her lips into a smile. She was seconds away from bolting for the door when A-chan appeared in front of her with a concerned look.

“Eh? Kronii…”

“Huh?” Kronii blinked and stared at A-chan with bleary eyes, doing her best to hold herself together. The shutters continued snapping around her.

“You’re still wearing the…um, how is it said…’bra’?”

“Huh?” Kronii repeated. Was something getting lost in translation?

“A-chan’s saying that you’re not supposed to wear anything under the vest,” IRyS chimed in from below. “The straps and stuff mess up the look. Plus you can see the bra’s color under all the white.”

“O-okay. I can…I can change.” Kronii perked up at the thought of being able to leave this hell of attention, if only momentarily. “I’ll be right back-”

A-chan caught her arm. “It’s alright, Kronii. You can just do it here.”

The room tilted. Kronii’s stomach swam in fresh waves of nausea. “Like, right here? In front of e-everyone?”

Five faces stared back at her behind raised lenses, eyes brimming with perverted glee. A-chan simply squeezed Kronii’s arm and nodded.

“Oh…sure…”

Somehow Kronii didn't feel like she was in her body anymore. Her actions were playing out under someone else's will from a camera pulled back above her head. Holding back tears, Kronii’s shaky fingers reached back towards the clasp of her bra, then pinched and pulled until it popped free. The amount of tension running through the band was immense thanks to her size, and it nearly flew apart after being undone. Kronii then shrugged the straps off her shoulders, unintentionally sighing in relief, and slowly fished out her impressive brasserie from below her top.

The girls stood transfixed as Kronii tugged it free from within the heated confines of her chest. The dark blue lingerie fell out of the bottom of her shirt and hung limply from Kronii’s hand– two of the biggest cups any of the girls had ever seen, almost humorous in their enormity. Visible steam emanated from the insides where darkened circles of sweat had collected and soaked.

Mumei relieved Kronii’s hand of her still warm underwear and held it up, noting the surprisingly strong smell and how her entire face could nearly fit inside one of those cups.

With nothing to support them, Kronii’s fat tits hung heavy and low past the bottom of her ribcage. Enormous teardrops with just the right amount of sag stretched the poor crop top even further out of shape. The subtle rise of her nipples now textured the material.

The girls gathered round and studied her lascivious anatomy like a museum centerpiece. They commented on the size and volume, wondering out loud how they were able to retain their pleasing shape despite so much mass. Kronii felt an especially sharp prick of embarrassment when Mumei noted how easy it was to “see her boobs from the back!”.

While most girls were satisfied with simply staring, A-chan took the initiative and roughly cupped both hands around Kronii’s breasts from below as to support their weight. “Weight” felt like an apt term to her, since she needed concentrated strength in each arm to actually lift those things. Her fingers sunk into the soft flesh, kneading, groping, and wobbling them side to side. Her thumbs ventured up and circled the bottom of Kronii’s areola, then went higher still and pressed into her nipples.

“Kronii,” she said in a soft tone, as though not believing what was in her hands, “what size do you wear?”

“Th-they’re…” Kronii paused and bit her lip, trying to ignore the greedy hands manhandling her chest. Her face was a deep red and at any moment she felt her knees would give out entirely. It took two false starts to finish her sentence. “They’re, uh…they’re K cups.”

The girls shared a collective gasp. A-chan removed her hands in shock. Mumei’s pupils dilated.

“Seriously? Oh my God, those are huge!” IRyS said behind a camera that had been in video mode since Kronii’s bra was removed. Noting Kronii’s wounded reaction, the nephilim quickly added, “B-but it’s nothing to be embarrassed about! I mean, lots of girls would kill to have a body like this!”

“Yeah, well, you know…I kinda…that’s what it is…” Kronii had nothing coherent to say. Not now, not when her body’s measurements were subjected to such burning scrutiny.

High off their new discovery, the girls soon worked themselves into a panel of questions.

“How do you manage carrying those everywhere? Does your back hurt?”

“I rest them on the desk when I’m streaming…”

“How do you find shirts that fit?”

“T-there’s custom stuff online.”

“How often do you go through bras?”

“I mean,” Kronii fought back a sniffle, “every m-month, I guess.”

“You what would be perfect for these udders,” IRyS shouted obliviously, eyes twinkling with mischief. “A cowkini outfit!”

Kronii shattered. Thin lines of hot tears ran down her face. Her shoulders hitched and her lips wavered into a warbling mess. “Stop it. Please, stop it,” she pleaded in a small voice audible only to her. She lowered her head and broke into a full blown sob, tears pattering against the top of her chest and swallowed by her deep cleavage.

A-chan sighed and herded the excited gaggle of girls away. She rested a tender hand on Kronii’s shoulder. “Alright, girls, take it easy. Kronii’s dealt with a lot of attention today. It’s a very emotional time for everyone!” She waited for the blue haired girl to collect herself. “Kronii? Are you okay now? There’s one more thing we need you to do for our promotion.”

Kronii’s deep sobs died down to a string of stuttered hiccups. She wiped her tears on the back of her forearm and cleared her throat, nodding at the floor. “O…okay. What is it?”

“You know how to idol step, right?”

Kiara had shown her how to do that once. A simple move. Kronii was in no mood to dance, but if that’s what it took to finish this…

Autonomously, lifelessly, Kronii threw her body from side to side and bounced on her feet. A-chan produced a large, expensive-looking camera for the occasion. It lasered in on Kronii’s body. On her chest. Her pendulous tits followed through on each step, swaying back and forth and lightly slapping against each other when her momentum shifted (she had to constantly adjust for their heft, lest she lose her balance). It was slightly painful to be bouncing them around like this without support, but Kronii pressed on with a plastic, marketable smile for the eventual tens of thousands of viewers. She tried to ignore the thought of her vest breaking apart completely under the weight of her swinging tits.

“Ohmigosh she looks so cute!” Fauna cried from the side lines. “Just like a real idol!”

“Way to go, Kronii! You're a natural!!” Bae cheered.

Was she still crying? Kronii couldn't tell anymore. Everything was just tears and sweat and stomach-sinking humiliation.

A-chan nodded in approval and flicked a few buttons on the camera’s side. “Great job! Now, one more thing and we can wrap this up for today.”

“Uh, but I thought this was the last-”

A-chan handed her a folded slip of paper. “Management came together and agreed this would be the best way to sign off. From now on, can you do something like this before each fes?”

Kronii looked down and pensively flipped it open. Her eyes lost what little light they had held. Her smile died, then reanimated just as quickly.

After scrunching the paper in her skirt pocket, Kronii raised her hands to the sides of her face and slowly extended two trembling fingers into double peace signs. She tried to bring her elbows further in but they ran up against the shelf of her massive tits, squishing them together and spilling out through the cleavage window. Through stoic determination, she held the pose.

The camera loved it. The lenses whirred and clicked within the black glossy bubble as Kronii’s dead cobalt eyes, leaking nose, and tear-streaked face came into focus. Struggling through the tears and mucus choking her voice, Kronii said, “Your perfect idol- sniff -joins 4th fes! Please look f-forward to ‘Our Bright Parade’!”