Overwhelmed, Sakura let out a soundless scream and sank to her knees.
Never before had she stolen more than a single pair of breasts at once, and even then, her usual victims seldom exceeded modest C-cups. Yet by Sakura's expert eye, she had just taken two D-cups and a G-cup…
Manyū kunoichi broke the mould entirely; they forsook the lithe, combat-honed figures most modern kunoichi prized, favouring instead generous curves and top-heavy silhouettes that served as both weapon and disguise— a calculated means of disarming foes in close quarters or getting them closer to an assassination target without arousing suspicion.
Had the Manyū still been around in the era of the Three Shinobi World Wars, Jiraiya would have already died a thousand times over!
Delighted squeals of pleasure rang out above Sakura as wisps of breast chakra gushed from the three kunoichi's chests, dense enough to be seen with the naked eye. Their nipples had become little taps, emptying out the last of their breast chakra, as the round mounds they topped pulsated and deflated before Sakura's very eyes.
"No!" Sakura gasped, breathing heavily.
A jolt of pleasure raced up Sakura's spine as the Nyūmyaku's invisible pathways channelled the women's chakra into her own chest. Erect nipples peeked obscenely through the thin fabric of her ceremonial kimono as her breasts started undulating and creaking like overfilled balloons… and then they grew.
Already on all fours, Sakura's enormous breasts dangled within her loose clothes like a cow's udders, and as they swelled outwards, they began to fill the narrow space between her arms, until they touched the ground and began swelling out from her sides. From P-cups, they grew to quixotic Q-cups, then ridiculous R-cups, supersized S-cups, and tremendous T-cups. Just as Sakura began to wonder whether the alphabet itself might give out before she did, the growth waned— and at last, she stopped at an unparalleled U-cup.
"So… heavy…" Sakura moaned sultrily, as the inexorable pull of gravity asserted itself.
Unable to muster any chakra in her limbs from the sheer pleasure coursing through her body, Sakura's arms gave out, and she collapsed into her pillowy breasts. After catching her breath, she gathered herself, drew her feet as close to her centre of gravity as she could manage, and pulled— but it was rather like trying to lift an uncooperative cat.
"Ouch!" Sakura groaned, as pain lanced down her spine. "My back!"
It was as if she had an eight-kilogram bag of rice strapped to her chest, yet after straining a little longer, she managed to stand in a somewhat upright position. She arched her back, aware that even the slightest bow would send her toppling head over tails all over again.
"MY FELLOW CLANSMEN!"
Sakura gingerly planted her hands in the small of her back and strained her neck and looked up, as did every person in attendance in the courtyard. Manyū Munenori, the elderly patriarch of the Manyū clan, had just appeared on a balcony above in the castle keep.
He was about to pontificate!
"Though the culprits behind this cowardly attack on our clan have yet to be brought to justice, rest assured that those who have failed in their duties have at least been punished!"
With their breasts reduced to mere pancakes, no longer large enough for the pillory to clamp down on them, the three kunoichi slithered to the ground, finally free of their bonds. Their beatific smiles slowly faded as the euphoric rush that came with exposure to a Breast Flow technique dwindled. They palmed their meagre busts, slowly coming to the realisation that they had lost everything worth living for.
Despair, then… Resentment. Anger. Rage.
Had the System still been responding, it would have dinged that Sakura has just gathered the missing grudges required to unlock the ultimate Jujutsu, a cursed technique based on the resentment of women deprived of their breasts.
…
Meanwhile, standing at the front of the crowd, just before the execution platform, a certain tomboyish girl groaned and doubled over, clutching her head in pain.
"Urgh…" Manyū Chichi moaned, her face pale.
"Are you okay, Chi-chan?" her little girlfriend Chibusa asked in concern, pressing her forehead against Chichi's. "Do you have a fever?"
"I'm okay, Chi-chan," Chichi said in a trembling voice, putting up a fearless smile despite the pain. "Now shush, Lord Munenori is giving a speech…"
Her skin burned and crawled, as though someone had seared her back with a cattle brand.
"Behold, the outsider who has carried out the Manyū's justice!" shouted Lord Munenori, spreading his arms wide as he addressed the crowd below him. "Braving many trials and tribulations, this daughter of the Manyū has at last made her way back to the clan's warm bosom!"
Chibusa gave Chichi a sidelong look of concern as she palmed her budding breasts and sighed.
She knew her friend fretted over the size of her chest— Chichi's family was renowned for being especially well-endowed even among the Manyū, but at her age, all her older sisters had already been wearing D-cups, yet she could barely fill a B-cup… on a good day, that is, when her little nubs bloated up due to her menstrual cycle.
Chibusa stared wistfully and the beautiful, busty, pink-haired onee-sama on the platform. If only she could do what that older girl could do, then Chichi wouldn't have to worry about her future prospects so much…
Because among the Manyū, women who had no breasts were considered worse than trash.
"As you have seen, this outsider possesses the main family's Kekkei Genkai, which has not appeared among our clan in over eighty years! Sakura is the descendant of my dear aunt Chifusa, who vanished many years ago!"
Whispers rippled through the crowd. Since when had the Manyū clan possessed a Kekkei Genkai, and why had nobody told them about it before now? Perhaps the clan's elders would know, but then again, the patriarch was the oldest living member of the clan…
"A new dawn has broken for our illustrious clan! The outsiders have brought us a way out of our mountain, and I intend for us to seize it! Once again, the Manyū clan will stride forth into the Land of Fire!"
"Did you hear that, Chi-chan?" said Chibusa excitedly. "You don't have to worry any more, I'm sure the people outside won't care as much about the size of your— I mean, our boobs!"
"Yeah, maybe…" said Chichi, her lips twitching. "Who knows… gyah!"
Chichi suddenly collapsed, screeching and clawing at her back, her nails digging into raw, aching skin. It felt as though she were being raked over hot coals!
"Chi-chan!" yelled Chibusa, kneeling at her friend's side. "What's wrong!?"
Everyone was staring at her now.
Chichi saw many things in their eyes. Pity. Disgust. Contempt. Even that pink-haired freak with the enormous udders that hung down past her navel was staring. She could already hear them whispering behind her back…
Even though she works harder at her Kenjutsu than anyone else, Chichi's not as busty as her sisters. Such a shame… There exists no bust-up exercise that can make up for poor talent.
Even her little sister is bigger than she is, how mortified she must feel…
Her parents must be so embarrassed… she comes from a good family, too… just goes to show the apple can fall far from the tree.
"Stop looking at me!" Chichi shrieked. "What's so good about those lumps of fat, huh!? All they do is get in the way of my sword swings!"
Disgraceful child… Cursed by the heavens…
If my daughter was still that flat at her age, I would have disowned her and sent her to live with the peasants…
If I'd known Chichi would never develop, I would never have made friends with her…
"Chi-chan!" Chibusa said worriedly, as she bent down to help her friend up. "You're burning up! We need to get you to a healer!"
Chichi slapped her friend's hand away, and Chibusa's eyes instantly filled with a mixture of shock and betrayal.
It was almost as if she could sense everyone's emotions, though she felt most attuned to the three kunoichi lying on the execution platform, their once-bountiful chests reduced to mere ribcages, fit only for playing the xylophone on. She could feel their misery, their despair, their rage… it was as though she were drinking in their very emotions.
The burning sensation intensified, flaring across her back as the intricate formulae etched into her skin glowed white-hot.
It was coming, and it was hungry for more.
Chichi screamed.