Rewrite the end of this story (after her second pint of cider, Naomi's thoughts become confused due to intoxication, and Esmeralda convinces her to try whisky):
"Naomi tossed her glasses onto the desk and rubbed her tired eyes. She stared out of the skyscraper window and down on to the city below. A sonder feeling washed over her. Somewhere out of sight a distant vacuum could be heard as the late night cleaners skulked from office to office. She checked her wristwatch. Another chunk of life sacrificed to the alter of capitalism.

 Lethargy permeated her movements as she closed her laptop and stowed it away. A lonesome trench coat hung in waiting and she wriggled into it, hiding her slender physique. She buttoned the coat around her trim waist as she walked through the empty offices towards the elevators. The faint smell of cleaning products wafted in from somewhere.

As she descended Naomi took a moment to stare at her reflection in the elevator mirror. Genetics had been kind to her; a heart shaped face, prominent cheekbones and full lips. Her dark framed glasses synergised with her black hair, tightly pulled back into a neat bun, drawing all attention to her facial symmetry. Puberty had left her with a tiny chest, but she’d grown to enjoy to benefits of a small bust; always going braless for one.

The night was dark, damp and drizzly. She spent a moment sheltered under the portico contemplating what to do with the evening. A quiet bar and a gin and tonic would give a small reprieve from the working week. She hailed a cab.

Arriving at her destination she hopped out and hurried across the street looking to duck into a favourite drinking hole. She used to frequent this place back when she drank more often, but upon entry she stopped abruptly. A large group of people were walking towards her, exiting the bar. A man caught her eye, “It’s closing, there’s some kinda leak upstairs. We’ve been told to leave.”

She stumbled backwards slightly, somewhat reluctant to step back out into the rain. She stood to the side as people filed past her, feeling at a loss.

A middle aged woman squeezed her arm gently and smiled, “We’re going to the Velvet Beer Garden if you’d like to join.” Naomi stared at her momentarily, struck by her warm smile. She’d never heard of the bar in question, but then again she had nothing better to do.

“Sure.”

The Velvet Beer Garden was largely empty and most of the bar goers had not actually come here, leaving Naomi engaged in small talk with this woman.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Naomi,” she reached out a hand.

The woman shook it, “Esmeralda, let me take your coat.”

“Oh that’s all right—”

“I insist.”

Naomi unbuttoned the coat and let the woman slide it from her shoulders, hanging it around the low backed chair. Naomi wore a form fitting crisp white shirt with the collar unbuttoned.

“To drink?” the bartender asked.

“A Gin and Tonic, please.”

“You should really try the beer here,” Esmeralda said.

“Oh, no. I’m not much of a beer drinker.”

“Trust me, a beer please,” she said to the bartender, “on me,” she smiled at Naomi.

A little flummoxed, Naomi resolved herself to politely drinking this single beer and calling it a night. The bartender scraped the foam from the top and slid the beer over to her.

“Make that two,” Esmeralda said to the bartender. Naomi looked down at the glass in front of her. The liquid swirled around, glistening in the lamplight. She was drawn to it, hardly able to avert her gaze. The condensation trickled down the outside of the glass and before she knew it she’d wrapped her fingers around the handle and raised the mug to her lips.

The smell was intoxicating. Since when did beer smell this good? Would it be rude if she took a sip before Esmerelda had gotten hers? Ah just a quick sip, she could apologise. She licked her lips and begun to drink. It was smooth and went down easily, the cool liquid nourishing her throat. She eagerly consumed more and more.

“Oh yes, do drink up dear,” Esmerelda said, smiling.

Naomi was now gulping down large mouthfuls of beer, letting small trickles run from the corners of her mouth and pool under her chin. She wanted to stop and wipe them off but something drove her to continue chugging. A small drop of beer fell from her chin and landed upon her thigh.

The piquancy was addictive and it seemed to massage her tongue as it flowed through her mouth. Although, as she drank she started to feel discomfort around her chest. Again, she wanted to stop drinking but was compelled to continue. But the reason for the discomfort was clear to any onlooker - Naomi’s chest was expanding.

With each successive mouthful of beer her bust grew a little fuller and expanded a little further. Her slender frame was now complimented by two small breasts. If she were able to put the glass down now she’d have a gorgeous pair of perky tits, but nothing could tempt her to stop.

Beer funnelled down her throat and seemingly transformed into breast tissue. Her small perky tits grew into spherical dollops of fat, rising like dough, straining the buttons of her crisp white shirt. Naomi gripped the glass with both hands. She felt her skin stretch with every swallow, newly fattened breast tissue forcefully blossoming within her.

Her eyes watered as she stared into her drink, it was just under half full. She let out a muffled groaning sound that reverberated inside the mug. Beer oozed from her lips and dribbled down her chin. Her shirt could hardly contain her voluptuous figure anymore and gaps started forming between the buttons.

“Good girl, almost there,” Esmerelda chimed.

All she wanted was more beer. More. Pain in her chest be damned. She greedily gulped and gulped. It was utterly delicious. She winced as her chest continued swelling further and further. In unison two buttons burst from her shirt and rocketed behind the drinks bar. Soft, fattened breast tissue filled the gaping hole, a line of cleavage now on display. The button near her collarbone was still fastened, as were the ones below her tits.

Another drop of beer dripped from her chin and landed onto her left breast before sliding down into the depths of her cleavage. Arching her spine and lifting the glass higher she worked the remaining liquid down her throat. Arching her spine like that, bulbous tits curving out from her tight body, nobody would think she’d ever been flat chested. The final mouthful of beer made its way inside her and a popping sound emanated as the button near her collarbone gave way. Her breasts quickly filled out to the sides, eating up the available space.

Naomi slammed her empty glass down and let rip a symphony of unorchestrated burps. She placed her forearms on the bar top and breathed heavily. Lowering her gaze she was met with her two new delectable assets. Cleavage bulged from the unbuttoned gap as the rest of her shirt struggled to stay fastened.

She could scarcely believe what she was seeing. Delicately, she pressed her palm onto her exposed cleavage and let her hand sink in. She sat up straight and cupped each breast gingerly, trying to comprehend their new size and weight.

They were huge. How big she didn’t know, but they were far bigger than her hands. Bigger than anyone she knew. And the rest of her slender physique remained unchanged making their size seem even more drastic. The shirt was cutting into her breasts painfully and she reached to unbutton it even further.

“Quite the binge drinker aren’t we, Naomi?”

Naomi froze and faced Esmerelda, “What… what was in that?”

“I hate to state the obvious Naomi,” she lowered her gaze to Naomi’s gaping shirt, “But you will need to start wearing bras now.”

Naomi suddenly remembered where she was and felt incredibly self conscious. Her plunging neckline was on full display and she’d almost unbuttoned her shirt in front of total strangers. She went to grab her trench coat and twisted on her barstool to reach it. Even these simple movements felt unusual as her upper arms pressed into her full chest.

Esmerelda stood and pressed a hand on her shoulder, “Leaving after just one drink?”

She stopped and looked up towards Esmerelda, “Yes I… I really ought to be heading off now.”

“Stay for just one more. On the house.”

“No I… I should really be going,” she replied, struggling with her trench coat.

Esmerelda dragged the other beer she’d ordered across the bar top, letting it rest in front of Naomi.

“But Naomi, we’ve already got you another.”

Naomi turned to face the bar, her eyes landing on the beer, “Thank-you but I… I must get back… to,” Naomi stared at the carbonated bubbles rising up, struggling for words. Golden liquid brewed within a sunset, topped off with a creamy, foamy head. It called her name.

She lifted the beer to her lips with both arms, her fattened tits pressing together. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her large chest temporarily jutting out even further, her shirt buttons screaming for dear life.

“Just a sip.”

And with that Naomi sealed her lips around the glass and drank. Her eyes still closed she swallowed mouthful after mouthful, some of which sloshed down her chin, running onto her ample chest and glistening under the dim lights of the bar. Then just as before, Naomi’s chest started to expand.

Esmerelda stood over Naomi and watched her continue to chug the beer helplessly. She lifted a boney finger and poked her sharp nail into Naomi’s exposed cleavage. The nail dug easily into the soft skin and she held it firmly in place as Naomi’s breasts continued to grow larger, watching it sink deeper into the plumpness.

She contemplated unbuttoning another of Naomi’s shirt buttons to give the girl some mild momentary relief but thought better of it. Let her earn it. She watched as Naomi’s chest rose and fell as the girl took long nasal breaths. The shirt cut deep into her pillowy bosom, growing tighter and tighter until another button burst from the pressure, ricocheting off a whisky bottle.

The woman slid her hand into the gaping front of Naomi’s shirt and let her fingers explore Naomi’s beer covered breasts. She soothingly rubbed the smooth skin, giving measured squeezes and enjoying the fullness. Naomi’s eyes looked up to meet her own, a sort of helpless expression shone through as she drank.

“There there,” she said, feeling Naomi’s breast growing even heavier and fuller in her palm, “You’re doing so well. So much better than the others.”

It was against protocol but she couldn’t resist the urge; she lent forwards and planted a kiss on Naomi’s cheek. And then another. She squeezed Naomi’s nipple and felt it erect into life. “I bet these bigger nipples are much more sensitive,” she whispered into Naomi’s ear.

She rubbed the nipple between thumb and forefinger and gleefully watched Naomi squirm on her stool. She gave Naomi’s cheek a sloppy wet kiss and dug her claw like fingers deep into the soft breast tissue.

Moving her lips next to Naomi’s ear again, “Goodness, these are some fat tits you’ve grown.” She squeezed her fingers as hard as she could, “Can you feel how deep my fingers sink in?”

Naomi’s eyes started to water and feeling a moment of empathy, she released her grip. Naomi wasn’t even halfway through her second beer and her breasts now utterly dominated her slender frame. Esmerelda unbuttoned the remaining shirt buttons around Naomi’s trim waist and slowly pulled the shirt to the sides, letting the entirety of Naomi’s engorged breasts hang in the open.

Completely unsupported by her shirt Naomi’s bosom still retained some perkiness, but that would soon disappear. Naomi had started to rest her elbows upon her mountainous breasts as she held the beer mug to her lips. Cute erect nipples stuck out and faced towards the bar, practically begging to be sucked.

“You’ve become quite the head turner. Tits so big you can see them from the back.” It was true, Naomi’s breasts now bulged so far out to the sides they were visible from behind.

“And they look so, so heavy. Here, let me help with that.” She lifted Naomi’s breast - which now required both of her hands - and plopped it onto the bar top. She did the same with the other breast and Naomi instinctively lent forwards letting the bar shoulder the full weight of her chest.

Naomi felt a shiver run down her spine as the cool surface made contact with the underside of her breasts. Her beer was almost empty, and she took one final swig to finish its contents. Lazily, she lowered the beer the mug. Two small burps slid from her lips and she let out an adorable hiccup.

Strewn in front of her were her mammoth sized breasts lazily resting on the bar top. She wanted to cry, how could she go on like this? Her fingers curiously traversed the tops of her tits, settling in-between her cleavage. They were warm, soft and welcoming to the touch. But they were too big, far too big. She’d become a gigantomastia girl.

“Why did you bring me here?” Naomi asked, voice close to cracking, eyes staring into her valley of cleavage, “Why do this to me?”

The woman waltzed behind the bar, making her way opposite Naomi. “Have you ever had a traditional German beer stein, Naomi?”

Naomi didn’t bother answering, she just seemed to slump even further forwards. The bartender finished pouring another ice cold beer, although this time the glass was double the size of a regular pint. Esmerelda slid the massive beer along the bar top and let it gently bump into the side of Naomi’s right boob.

The beer drew her gaze in like a magnet and she felt her mouth start to water. “No, I’m full of beer! I’m full! Take it away. Please, I’ve had enough to drink!”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, you’re not even tipsy!”

“No - no… I can’t drink it,” she pleaded as she reached for the enormous glass, struggling to lift it with one hand. Esmerelda helped Naomi, enabling her to lift it and letting it rest upon her cleavage directly under her mouth.

“I don’t need it! I’m so big already, look! Look at me!” Naomi squealed, struggling to take her eyes off the beer.

The woman toyed with Naomi’s thick nipples from the other side of the bar, rubbing her thumbs in circles around them. “But you’re going to grow so much bigger, aren't you?”

Naomi clamped her eyes shut as pleasurable sensations filled her huge breasts. She wanted to toss the beer to the ground. Smash the glass and storm out. She opened her eyes in a spiteful rage. Then simply burrowed her lips into the mug and drank. The cool liquid filled her mouth and she welcomed it. This is what she wanted. This was too good to stop. She wished her mug would never empty. She wanted to drink forever.

Esmerelda watched on, an ecstatic grin plastered across her face. Naomi gluttonously chugged the beer. She drank ravenously, as though she were dying of thirst. Each of her breasts surged forwards, slithering across the bar top like a pair of fattened slugs. They grew and grew until they started to droop off the other end of the bar top.

As Naomi set the now empty mug down, her breath came in ragged waves, each exhalation a mix of disbelief and mounting unease. Her colossal breasts lay spread across the bar top, bereft of the former elegance of her sleek silhouette. She ogled their expanse, a sea of softness and skin, tinged with the scent of beer.

“Look at you, dear Naomi,” Esmeralda purred, her voice flowing like a silk ribbon. “Such a transformation.”

Naomi peered up through lids heavy with tipsiness, struggling to gather her thoughts amid a fog of disbelief. “This… This isn’t what I wanted,” she murmured, a plea lying dormant in her eyes. The tug of unfamiliar weight, notably pulling on her frame, felt alien and pervasive.

“But isn’t it?” Esmeralda retorted, mirthful curiosity glistening in her eyes.

“I at least want to be balanced,” Naomi confessed, a bubbling resolve—a need to reclaim some semblance of proportion—crystallizing through her inebriated stupor.

“Balanced? Oh, sweet girl, that can be arranged.” Esmeralda signaled to the bartender, who promptly produced a glass of cider. The golden brew swirled in its confines, tempting and rich, an orchard’s bounty set free from mere earthly constraints.

Naomi hesitated, gazing at the cider. Even as she battled to restrain herself, thirst and intrigue gnawed at her resolve. Before conscious thought could halt her, the glass was positioned eagerly at her lips, and the first silky draft tumbled inside, and then another, each more inviting than the last.

The cider—its crisp apple signature surging through her reflexively—maneuvered her sensations from reluctance to delight. A tantalizing warmth burgeoned in her core, afire with transformation, as a tingling descended and flared throughout her midsection.

She tilted her head back, gulping deeply, the liquid disappearing swiftly as if drawn into an aching void. Naomi’s hips shivered, wide as they had never been before, her rear burgeoning, spreading into newfound territory. Her bottom expanded, heedlessly persistent, each new swell affording a roundness, a fruitfulness that defied logic and gravity.

Her hips encountered the limit of her modest seat, spilling sensuously over its confines. Her skirt, already taut from the beer’s prior endeavor, succumbed to the burgeoning pressure. Threads surrendered, seams yielded, and her clothing relented from the fight, fabric parting with an immodest sigh.

Naomi hiccupped, a bubbly intoxication fizzling through her like effervescent cider. Her eyes, glazed and gleaming, locked onto Esmeralda as she attempted to assert control. “No more. This will do. I’m done.”

Esmeralda, unyielding, swayed toward Naomi with the same mellifluous persuasion. “But darling, you’ve only just started. Surely you don’t want to remain incomplete?”

The second pint of cider alighted in front of her, as daunting and welcoming as a tantalizing secret. ‘Just one sip,’ the reverberation of temptation made her reconsider.

Naomi’s hands hovered above the glass, trembled, and then finally clasped it, a magnet drawn again to irresistible allure. Her mind held back but her hands betrayed her; she raised it tentatively to her lips.

The cider slid effortlessly down her throat, and Naomi moaned softly, helpless against its delicious assault. Another swell raged at her hips, encircling her bottom in burgeoning plushness, until eventually, even her barstool cried mercy, overwhelmed by its burgeoning passenger.

Groaning wood heralded a final protest, each creak a testament to her now-immeasurable expanse. The whole of her lower form now spread lavishly across the small bench seat and spilled over its edges, dynamic and omnipresent, relinquishing space to voluptuous assets that shifted her center of gravity.

Naomi’s blinking awareness returned at last; she set the empty cider mug aside and languorously twisted, keenly aware of the bar’s unsubtle confinement around her. “I can’t leave like this,” she mumbled, cheeks warmed by cider and embarrassment alike.

“Nonsense,” Esmeralda cooed with a reassuring glint, almost patronizing. “A figure like yours deserves admiration and the right audience.”

Esmeralda’s satisfaction was undisguised—she noted Naomi’s predicament with rapt appreciation. “Shall I order another round, Naomi?”"