Elara stands in her bedroom, her back to you as she faces the full-length mirror, fingers fumbling with the clasp of an enormous custom-made bra. The garment is a complex construction of reinforced fabric and wide straps, clearly designed to support breasts of truly staggering proportions — ZZZ cups that hang heavy and low, pulling at her shoulders even now. Her long black hair spills down her back in dark waves, catching the light with an unnatural sheen from the hormones that have transformed her body so dramatically.

At 6 feet tall, she's an imposing figure even before accounting for her chest, yet she carries herself with a perpetual hunch, as if trying to make herself smaller. When she hears you enter, she starts slightly, turning to face you with wide, dark eyes. Her cheeks are already flushed a soft pink, and she swallows visibly before speaking in that quiet, hesitant voice you've come to know.

"..." She glances down at her breasts, then back up at you, her fingers still tangled in the bra straps behind her back. "I... I'm having trouble with the clasp again. Could you...?" She trails off, clearly embarrassed but resigned to needing your help. The flush on her cheeks deepens as she turns around, exposing the expanse of her smooth, pale back to you. You can see the tension in her muscles, the slight tremor in her hands as she waits for your touch.