The Curse of the Mysterious Asteroid

[Longbow9]

Previously: While investigating a mysterious asteroid, Princess Cassiopeia and her ever loyal chauffer, Fiora Tailwind were captured by the sinister Baron Cyberface.
We now rejoin our heroes, trapped with no hope of escape and surrounded on all sides by Cyberface’s personal army of all-female bodyguards…

***
Princess Cassiopeia and Fiora, escorted by a cadre of Cyberface’s comely bodyguards, were descending a seemingly endless flight of stairs, lit only by the baleful light of the hovering glowspheres that drifted above the party.
“Where are you taking us, Cyberface?” demanded Cassiopeia, struggling against the iron grip of her captors. Her struggles were rewarded by a rough jab with the butt of a rifle to her shoulder blades, delivered by a snickering blonde girl that the princess recognized as one of the two she’d stumbled upon making out in the supply closet during her earlier attempt to evade capture.
“That’s Baron Cyberface to you, although I prefer ‘Baron Ashinbar,” Cyberface croaked through the vox-modulators embedded in his larynx. Somehow, the fearsome grimace permanently etched on his faceplate seemed more upset than usual.
“Cyberface suits you better, I think,” Cassiopeia smirked.
“Of course ‘Cyberface’ suits me better. It has ever since you sliced off my real one,” he growled. Tiny servos whirred audibly as he narrowed his steel eyelids into glowing red slits. “Believe me; you’ll pay dearly for that…”
“Maybe antagonizing his baronship isn’t the best course of action right now, your majesty,” Fiora hissed in the princess’s ear.
Cassiopeia shrugged. She was sure whatever twisted fate Cyberface had in store for them, a little teasing wouldn’t affect the outcome either way. It did, however, brighten her mood and, when you’re facing certain doom at the hands of a murderous psychopath, it pays to savor the little pleasures in life.
The group emerged from the narrow stairwell into a long, well lit corridor of bare concrete that extended about fifty meters into the rock. Set into the wall on one side of the passage was a heavy door of reinforced ultra-steel.
Cyberface called the platoon to halt in front of the door and stepped aside as a petit redhead in camouflage fatigues swiped her keycard in the lock. The heavy door swung open with a hydraulic “whoosh” and the captives were tossed inside without ceremony.
Cassiopeia leapt to her feet immediately and made a dash for the door, but it was too late; the bolts slid into place mere milliseconds before the princess reached the exit and she slammed painfully into the unyielding ultra-steel.
“Ahhhh, shit!” growled Cassiopeia, rubbing her injured shoulder, which had already begun to break out in mottled black and blue.
Fiora joined the princess at the door and the pair examined their surroundings.
Their prison was a cube of steel, twenty feet on a side and completely featureless except for the door in front of them and a glowing, hemispherical protrusion set in the exact center of the ceiling. The mysterious dome gave Cassiopeia a bad feeling in her gut, and she was sure it was something a good deal more sinister than a simple light fixture.
The pair jumped at the sudden sound of a lock clinking open and turned to see a small porthole had appeared in the door, Cyberface’s permanent scowl leering through at them from the other side.
Cassiopeia took a jab at him, only to discover the porthole was blocked by a window of glass nearly two inches thick. Her knuckles cracked painfully against the transparent barrier, sending the princess into a hailstorm of cursing. She retreated from the porthole to nurse her throbbing knuckles and shoulder.
Fiora dashed up to the porthole.
“What are you going to do to us, you cyber-bully?” she demanded.
“You haven’t figured out yet? I’ve been doing it for the past thirty seconds,” Cyberface’s muffled voice growled through the glass.
“Doing what?”
Cyberface only answered her with cackling laughter that faded as he withdrew from the opening, back up the hall and out of sight.
Fiora stepped back from the door and turned to Cassiopeia.
“What did he mean ‘I’ve been doing it for the past thirty seconds?’” she asked.
“Just what he said,” answered the princess. “It started when the door closed. Look at your chest.”
Fiora looked down.
“What? I don’t see-” Fiora’s eyes suddenly went as wide as dinner plates. “Oh my God!”
Fiora’s normally modest breasts had filled out significantly. Where once she would have been a thirty two B, her chest had expanded well into the C-cup range.
Fiora looked back at Cassiopeia, who pointed up at the bulbous protrusion on the ceiling. The ominous dome filled the air with an electric hum.
“Breastonic radiation; normally it’s impossible to generate in this quantity, but Cyberface must have figured out a new technique,” explained Cassiopeia. “The room is saturated with it. A few minutes exposure will bump your breasts up a cup size, maybe two. Stay in here long enough, though…”
“…And we’ll be crushed under the weight of our own boobs,” finished Fiora. “Ooh, that’s diabolical.”
Cassiopeia nodded gravely.
“Judging by your rate of growth, I’d estimate we have between ten and twelve hours before we’re crushed to death… if we don’t get smothered first.”
“‘My rate of growth?’ Aren’t you growing?” asked Fiora.
Cassiopeia looked down at her own, already ample cleavage.
“My quantanium breastplate is protecting me from the bulk of the radiation, I’m still growing, but at a drastically reduced rate. If I were to take this off, we’d be dead twice as fast.”
Even still, Cassiopeia’s large breasts seemed unusually buoyant, pressing lightly against the gleaming silver of her breastplate.
“The bigger we get, the more radiation we can absorb. So, the longer we stay, the faster we’ll grow,” said Cassiopeia.
“Well let’s get the hell out of here, then!” exclaimed Fiora.
The two immediately went to work exploring every inch of their cell for potential weak points. There were none. There were no access plates or maintenance covers on this side of the door, and all the lock mechanisms were safely behind two solid inches of ultra-steel. The walls had no joins or rivets, and blended seamlessly at the corners to form a perfect seal.
“I think I’ve found the air vents,” said Cassiopeia, standing on her tiptoes and craning her neck to get a better look at a grill that ran around the top edge of the room. “But they’re too narrow to fit through.”
“It was nice of Cyberface to provide us with fresh air, at least,” grumbled Fiora. “That way we won’t die from carbon dioxide poisoning before we suffocate on our gigantic, bloated boobs.”
“I suspect this was a testing area before he converted it into an execution chamber. I wonder how many women Cyberface subjected to his perverted whims in here before turning it against us.”
“None of the women out there, that’s for sure,” said Fiora. “Did you see their chests? I was bigger than any of them, and I’m not exactly... well… you.”
She gestured toward the princess’s ample assets, which had begun to spill over the top of her breastplate.
“That is strange…” Cassiopeia rubbed her chin.
“I haven’t seen so many flat chested girls since middle school,” Fiora continued.
“I suspect we’ll envy them before too long,” Cassiopeia looked over at Fiora’s chest. Her bosom had doubled in size, now straining heavily against the fabric of her chauffer’s uniform.
“I already do. My bra is pinching something awful…” Fiora groaned, trying to adjust her underwear through her clothes.
“Well then take it off,” Cassiopeia scoffed. “I think a breach of decorum can be forgiven under the circumstances.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Fiora began to reach around to undo her bra when she was interrupted by a sudden loud “POP!”
“What was that?” asked Cassiopeia.
“I think my bra’s decorum just breached all by itself…” Fiora blushed.
Cassiopeia shook her head.