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Enabler

by Zumberge (ao3)

Chapter 1

The radio alarm clicked on, tuned to a station that once played classic rock but had since been gone for who knows how long, replaced by a combination of static and Spanish talk radio. In the bed beside it, the young woman grumbled, slapping the button on top before fumbling with a switch on the side, rolling over, and going back to sleep.

 

*****

 

The young woman rolled over, blinking the sleep out of half-open eyes as she reached for the alarm clock and turned it towards her for a better view.

11:19.

"Fuck me running," she muttered, throwing off the sheets.

Zoe was the sort of person who, not knowing if she was attractive or not, simply concluded it wasn't worth caring about because there were more important things in life. Tall, thin, pale, and modestly-built, with an oval face and green eyes, it was doubtless that someone would be interested in her, but their absence didn't wear on her. Indeed, she thought nothing of living by herself; a night of looking up old high school classmates on Facebook and seeing their mistakes and the awful names they gave to them convinced her that it was by far the lesser of two evils.

She plodded into the kitchen in her underwear, smoothing out what people assumed was a long, dark brown pixie cut. In reality she simply had her hair cut short in a different style and never bothered combing it, and the resemblance was coincidental but still uncanny. Stopping in front of the refrigerator, she pulled it open and scanned the contents for breakfast - lunch, she corrected herself. The foodstuffs inside were varied, quite edible, and in amounts either just too large or just too small for a single serving.

Shrugging to herself, she shut the door, then returned to her bedroom to get dressed. Even if it did take less energy to use the microwave than it did to drive out to eat at a restaurant, at least it would give her a reason to get out for once.

 

*****

 

One short car trip and one bagel slathered with lox spread later, Zoe exited the deli, finishing off the last of her bottle of soda. Casually tossing it into a nearby waste can, she began to cross the parking lot when the glint of metal on the pavement caught her eye. Approaching, she kneeled down for a closer look, picking up a USB drive with a silver and blue butterfly charm hanging from it by a short chain. She wiped away the dirt and grit on the drive with her thumb; clearly it had been sitting here for a while, but at the same time, the charm was pristine and untouched.

She stood, contemplating what to do with it. It wasn't dropped recently, or at least she didn't think it wasn't, so asking around in the deli probably wouldn't turn up its owner. Assuming they were even in there and not anywhere else in the strip mall, of course. Thus, she pocketed it and took it home with her, hoping there was some sort of clue to the owner's identity in the files inside.

 

*****

 

The good news was that it wasn't a trick to infect someone's computer with a virus. Zoe wasn't an idiot when it came to computers; she took every precaution she could before plugging it in and poking around inside. The bad news was that it wasn't much of anything. No pictures, no office spreadsheets, no letters, just a single minuscule text file on a downright excessively-sized flash drive.

"Well," Zoe said to herself, "it's better than nothing."

The file opened with a quick double-click, displaying the familiar black terminal text on a white background. All that was written were two sentences:

An artist's purpose is not to reflect reality. An artist's purpose is to make dreams become reality.

"Oh, nice. I just picked up a motivational poster."

As she went to close the file the text rapidly disappeared, letter by letter, until all that was left was a blinking cursor on a blank screen. She glanced down at the keyboard to see if she didn't accidentally press something, and as she looked back up, words began to form, as if typed by an unseen hand:

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Zoe stared at the screen, wondering what was going on before nearly jumping out of her skin when there was a sharp rapping noise behind her. She looked over her shoulder, turning back towards the screen and re-reading the sentence before getting up and heading into the entryway.

Opening the front door she spied the mail carrier, who smiled and offered her several envelopes and a long, curled-up cardboard flyer advertising some politician she had never heard of. "It was too large for the mailbox." Zoe took it from him, looking it over. "I'll bet you'll be glad when elections are finally over, huh?"

"Huh?" She looked down at the flyer. "Oh, yeah. Thanks."

He nodded and waved, walking away as Zoe shut the door behind her in a half-daze. She dropped off the mail on the way through her kitchen, returning to her bedroom and her computer just as more text appeared:

How did it know, she wondered. It could have been a trick, some sort of wireless access, but what was the plan? Leaving it in a parking lot for someone to pick up, then following them home and hoping they use it? Moreover, why just a simple text file? Why not use it to access their passwords and phish information from them?

But more importantly, how did it know what I was thinking, exactly as I was thinking it?

Zoe took off her oval half-rim glasses and rubbed her eyes, leaning in for a closer look and trying very hard not to launch into a blind panic screaming about computers in her head. Such language, while potentially sensical in context, was bound to make the neighbors think the wrong things about her. But if something was there, maybe it went both ways.

She sat down, going down a line and typing a simple message: "Stop fucking with my head."

The cursor blinked in silence for a few seconds before amending her sentence.

Stop fucking with my head, she typed. It amended her syntax before falling silent once more.

"Great," she mumbled. "It has a sense of humor." She replaced her glasses and thought for a few seconds, staring off into space, before her eyes flitted back to the screen. "Here's a better idea."

"Zoe stood up, heading into the kitchen to get her cocoa. She had put a cup in the brewer but, in the confusion, had forgotten entirely about it until now."

She nodded to herself, standing and leaving the room. As she neared the kitchen she caught the whiff of chocolate and, turning towards the counter, saw a mug beneath the brewer. She picked it up and, after peering into it suspiciously, took a sip. It tasted like cocoa. "Mmm, okay." Turning, she leaned against the counter, holding the mug in both hands. "Okay. So. What do we know? It's... smart, whatever it is. It knows English and its rules of grammar. It also knows what's happening and what's going to happen, and isn't actively malevolent. At least not yet." She took another sip. "It can also change the future... or the present, I guess." She reached over, opening the cupboard to see that the place her mug normally occupied was empty. "Cleanly, though, it looks like. Not just by putting a copy someplace, more like... it was always that way, even if it wasn't. Or even if I remember it wasn't, but why wouldn't I? I was the one who changed it, like..." Her eyes widened. "Like editing a story."

Finishing off the rest of her drink, she set her mug down in the sink and headed back into her bedroom. Whatever-it-was didn't add anything in the interim, thankfully. Sitting down, she tried to think of ways to test it out, but her thoughts wandered a bit, something the file picked up on as it began typing.

Zoe recalled a scenario like this in something she saw in years past. Someone found a book that let them kill people by writing down their names, and they rapidly degenerated into megalomania and obsession with creating a perfect world. Years later the world was peaceful, but it was the peace of a tyrant, with people living in constant fear of their lives. But this was something beyond even that.

She knew she didn't know everything about the world, and she wasn't conceited enough to believe that her ideas about how things should be would be perfect for everyone. Even if she did, what guarantee did she have that writing something down would lead to the chosen outcome and not be filtered through the actions of millions, if not billions of people working against it?

She rested her head on her hand, staring at the screen. "Well, you're not wrong. You gave near-absolute power to the one person who isn't willing to use it. If the plan was to keep it safe, good job."

But there was an alternative. One that wouldn't hurt anyone.

Zoe arched an eyebrow.

Zoe did have certain interests.

"Oh no."

Everyone did, of course, but hers were difficult, if not impossible, to indulge in real life.

"No no no-" She began furiously mashing Backspace in a futile attempt at deleting the text faster than it could appear, feeling her cheeks heat up as they turned a deep red. "No NO NO NO NO YOU'RE NOT NO YOU'RE NOT-"

Consuming food and drink beyond human limits, increasing her physical assets to an exaggerated mockery of sexuality or corpulence, buoying herself in the air with a vast amount of gases contained in her own body. This and more were beyond her grasp.

She slumped over her keyboard, unable to deal with her soul being laid bare by a self-aware screen full of text. "This isn't happening." It was a few moments later, when she raised her head, that she noticed that two more words were appended to the message.

Until now.

It took a few seconds until the words finally sank in. Her chest tightened in apprehension and anticipation, and her pulse quickened. Part of her thought it was still a trick and too good to be true, but the rest of her was enamored with the possibilities. Zoe still didn't know what it could and couldn't do and what the downsides were, if any. It was best, she reasoned, to start small.

"For reasons beyond her knowledge, the container of cocoa used was not entirely cocoa. Inside was a harmless chemical concoction that, when ingested, caused minor breast growth within a few minutes."

She double-tapped the Enter key, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "...and now we wait."

There was no response from the file, positive or negative, which she took as a good sign. As seconds passed, however, she began to take the lack of anything as a bad sign. Just as she contemplated adding to it to see if more detail wasn't the issue she had a brief, strange feeling, and her sports bra was suddenly tighter as she found her arms resting on a slightly cushier cushion.

Zoe nearly fell over herself as she whipped off her glasses, stripping off her shirt as she stood and rushed over to the mirror for a closer inspection. Removing her bra, she took hold of her breasts as she inspected her body in the mirror. They weren't big by any stretch, and they weren't -much- bigger than normal, but they were bigger just the same. She gave them a light squeeze; they felt different than normal, but aside from their size they were unmistakably part of her.

...and they had grown because she wrote something that made them grow. Hurrying back to the keyboard, she added another sentence: "Luckily, the effects wear off quickly, leaving the person none the worse for wear."

Another strange feeling passed over her, and she felt her skin prick and tingle as she returned to her normal size. She let out a sigh of relief as she slumped back in her chair. "Okay. What was done can be undone. Good, good." She sighed again, straightening up. "Now all I need to do is figure out what I can do and how to do it." She slid her glasses back into place. "Right, because I'm only fucking with the laws of nature and reality. No big deal."

Chapter 2

Zoe stared at the text file, pondering her next course of action and too preoccupied to be concerned with the fact that she was sitting there completely topless. She knew that it could alter reality. All she needed to know is what its rules and limitations were, if any.

She ran ideas and possibilities through her head for a few minutes. The file remained silent, either unable to or simply not choosing to narrate her internal thoughts at the moment. Part of her suspected that it wasn't about to give her more clues than absolutely necessary.

"Fuck it." She poised her hands over the keyboard. "Let's try this."

"Suddenly her breasts grew to the size of grapefruits."

She leaned back in her chair, going to cross her arms before stopping, letting her hands hover in the air. She was waiting for a reaction, and there was one, but not the one she was expecting as the file began typing on its own.

Suddenly her breasts grew to the size of grapefruits, she wrote. There was an expectant silence as she waited for the results, but nothing came of it. Even before she wrote it, Zoe knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"Yeah, no kidding." Zoe leaned to the side on her desk, cupping her chin with one hand and resting the other on her hip. "Okay, so I can't just write down anything and have it happen. There has to be a reason or an explanation behind it. Apparently even if it's something dumb like, 'oh, there's something in my cocoa that made my boobs grow for a little bit.'" She fell silent for a second, taking her hand off her chin to gesture. "So it doesn't need to be justified according to the real world, just in the logic of something being written. People know faster-than-light travel is impossible but accept it happening within the confines of a story. I guess this is the same thing?" She paused. "So random beverages causing breast expansion is totally fine with me. Wow, how fucking far gone -am- I?"

After another minute of thought, a wry smile crossed her lips and she began typing.

"While strange reactions to food and beverages was not unheard of - the vast, borderline absurd amount of food allergies was proof enough of this - drinking cocoa in the hopes that one of the batches might have the desired effect on her seemed unreliable to Zoe. Lucky for her, she knew of more consistent methods of breast growth."

Zoe paused, waiting for a response and nodding to herself when none came. "Okay, I guess that's a good enough hook for it. Now I just need to pick something up." With that she left her bedroom, picking up her keys from the tray, stopping in her tracks, and promptly doubling back before snatching her shirt from the bed. "Prolly gonna need this."

 

*****

 

One short drive and one shorter walk later, Zoe found herself in a health and nutrition store in the mall, facing down several shelves that promised all manner of enhancement, sensitivity, and production. She regretted not doing any research, not having in mind at the time that their use would not be under normal circumstances. After some debate and a near-fruitless inquiry with one of the staff, she picked the most reliable-looking package and, not knowing how much of an effect it would have on her, purchased three bottles just in case.

Returning home, she poured herself a tall glass of water before returning to her computer, setting the bag down beside her desk and pulling out one of the bottles of natural breast enhancement pills. She unscrewed the cap, taken aback by the volume of the contents. It was only sixty pills, but on the other hand, it was sixty pills she would have to take all at once. "Just in case," she said, setting the bottle down and typing a few sentences.

"The supplements Zoe bought were designed to be easier on the stomach. She may not have needed it, since she never had any problems with spicy or rich food, but it was better safe than sorry."

A second later another sentence appeared:

Even if it didn't work, she thought, it still wasn't the worst sixty dollars she had spent.

"You're not wrong about that," she replied. "I held on to that pre-order receipt for twelve years and-" She shook her head. "Never mind, never mind." She took the glass in one hand and the pills in the other. Giving the bottle a shake, she paused to steady her nerves before raising it to her lips. "Here goes."

Zoe shook about a half-dozen pills into her mouth before following it with a shot of water and swallowing. She grimaced, thumping her chest to make sure they went down properly before taking another mouthful of both and repeating until the bottle was empty, at which point she washed it down with the remaining contents of her glass, setting it down roughly on the coaster. "Bleh, tastes like compressed sawdust."

She took a great risk in consuming so many of them at once. There was questionable evidence that they were effective, though evidence nonetheless. But to what degree? How long would she have to wait to see results? Weeks? Months? Perhaps.

She blinked before sneering at the screen. "-Perhaps?- So MAYBE they'll work IN A COUPLE MONTHS, if I'm LUCKY?" She scratched at her chest, feeling a prickling heat beneath her skin. Her expression immediately went blank, and her eyes eyes went down to her front.

Or perhaps not.

Two soft mounds rose up beneath Zoe's shirt, cloth pulling across her skin as she grew. She hadn't put her bra on when she left, and part of her was grateful for it.

Zoe had, jokingly, attempted to cause her breasts to grow to the size of grapefruits.

As they bulged and grew like two inflating balloons, her hands hovered near them. Her mouth was open but not drawing breath, as if touching them, or even moving too much would break the spell.

But Zoe was never one to be afraid of dreaming bigger.

She leaned back, adjusting her balance to account for the sudden, significant weight growing off of her. Her shirt, not at all tailored for someone this endowed, began riding up beneath her armpits. By the time the growth stopped, they - she, Zoe corrected herself, was taking up so much cloth that the hem hung out like a curtain, exposing her navel.

Zoe turned her chair and stood unsteadily, one arm beneath her new assets, cradling them to hold them still so they wouldn't throw her off. She gave one a gentle squeeze; it was soft in a way that she wouldn't have thought was real if it wasn't attached to her. Crossing her room to the mirror, she put her shaking hands on her hips and inspected herself face-on before turning to the side, arching her back and thrusting them out. "Goddamn," she breathed, "they're like the size of my head."

She pulled up on the hem of her shirt in an attempt to remove it. Unfortunately her new size made it entirely too tight, and between that and her nerves she only succeeded in getting her head halfway through the neck and one arm tangled up. Grumbling, she picked up her pocket knife from the table, flicked it open, and hacked her way down the front of her clothes. With a grunt and the ripping of cloth she tore it open, and her breasts swayed from the motion and their sudden liberation.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she took herself in again, this time au naturel. Her chest wasn't merely big, it was wide and heavy and looked entirely out of scale for her body and too much for almost every piece of clothing she owned and bound to attract more attention than she had ever had to deal with and absolutely none of that was important because in that moment, she was a goddess.

She slumped into a sitting position on her bed before lying down, her breasts falling to either side of her. Her hands undid the button and zipper on her jeans before shimmying them down past her hips. After what had happened, Zoe desperately needed some time to herself.

Chapter 3

Following her "me time" Zoe lay on her bed, now more than half-naked, to collect her thoughts and plot her next course of action. After a few minutes of consideration she first settled on pulling up her pants, heading into the bathroom, washing her hands, and taking several photos with her phone. She wasn't vain, but she did know a moment to remember when she saw one.

As little outward interest as she put in matters of a sexual nature, Zoe had an incredible capacity for desperate, excessive perversion. Previously her fantasies were restricted to just that - fantasy - but the little she had experienced in person had already begun to strip away her inhibitions.

Following that she thought about getting dressed. However, she had already demonstrated to herself the problems with T-shirts, and button-up shirts were similarly an issue, although she did want to try one on and quickly arch her back just to see the results. A quick search of her closet turned up a zip-up fleece hoodie, which worked well; the zipper went up most of the way, and the inside was soft enough to keep from chafing her more sensitive parts. Smoothing out the hood, she glanced at the computer screen and did a double-take at the new addition, frowning as she read it. "Wait a minute, is this thing calling me a slut?" She sat down in a huff, typing quickly. "See how you like this."

"Zoe knew, however, that there was no problem with anyone indulging in their fantasies provided no one was hurt. She already had, on numerous occasions; there was an online gallery that proved that."

She double-tapped the Enter key as she eyed the screen, almost daring it to respond. After a long period of silence she nodded. "That's what I thought." She rubbed her collar bone, rolling her shoulder around in its socket. "Wow, these things are gettin' heavy. I should probably buy a bra or something." Looking at the clock on the screen she added, "although I've already gone out twice." She thought for a second before shrugging and standing up. "Fuck it, I'm already spending money left and right today."

 

*****

 

Zoe knew things would be different now that she had breasts the size of her head, but she wasn't prepared for just how different things would be. For starters, she had to adjust how she drove, as her arms kept bumping and brushing against her chest whenever she turned the wheel. Walking across the mall parking lot, she had to adjust her posture to account for the weight on her front and smooth her steps to minimize the amount of bounce she experienced. The hoodie was a good quick fix, but it still exposed a bit of cleavage, and she was certain that at least one person she passed by realized she wasn't wearing anything beneath it. To top it all off, she was still a bit wound up from having one of her fantasies become reality which, combined with the bouncing and the softness of the fabric brushing against her, made her a bit distracted.

As she entered the lingerie store, the clerk, a woman a few years older than her, boggled at Zoe before composing herself and putting on a welcoming air. "Hello, what are you looking for today?"

"I, um..." Zoe pointed to herself. "I need a bra, or any kind of support."

"All right. I'm not sure we have anything in stock in your size," she said apologetically. "You'd need one custom-made."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. I, uh, just need something to, you know..." She cupped her hands in front of her. "...help me out until then."

Zoe was aware of how strange the situation was: A woman with no undergarments and no knowledge of her exact measurements who doubtless required specially made bras expecting to find something that fit in a retail store. But if nothing else, she was a storyteller, and her recent situation made her particularly attuned to that fact.

"It's kind of a funny story. My boyfriend was sort of... enamored with me, and bought me most of my clothes." She made a helpless gesture. "Then we had a real messy break-up."

The clerk's expression softened. "Oh no."

"Yeah. He took the clothes with him. He said that since he bought them they were his."

"I can't believe someone would-" The clerk gave Zoe a comforting pat on the arm. "Listen, honey. Let's see if we can't find something for you. Do you know what size you wear?"

"Not offhand. I've..." She let out a humorless laugh. "I've actually gotten bigger, if you can believe that."

She looked her over. "Really."

It was technically not a lie.

 

*****

 

O cups.

She had fucking -O cups.-

Goddamn.

The other clerk, the one that handled bra measurements, was nice enough, though it was clear that she was embarrassed by Zoe's sheer size and the knowledge that they were real. Zoe was, in turn, embarrassed that she was standing there topless in front of a stranger with a measuring tape around her having to explain that they were real, so at least it all evened out.

After a bit of searching in the back the clerk turned up a plus size top which, while not perfect, fit well enough and helped alleviate some of her back pain. Taken in by Zoe's story the clerk insisted on applying her employee discount to her purchase, to which Zoe insisted, more strongly, that it was fine. The clerk relented and Zoe left wearing her purchase, a little more poor but with her conscience intact.

As she drove back home, she reflected on what else she could do with -fucking O cup breasts GodDAMN-, coming to the conclusion that it wasn't about doing things -with- them, it was about simply having them and doing things. What, though, was the question, but she had more than enough time to think about it.

"Best twenty dollars I ever spent," she said.

One thing Zoe never considered regarding her new assets was their permanency, or lack thereof. Had she known, an old adage would have come to mind: Easy come, easy go.

As she was headed down a straightaway she adjusted her clothes, finding them a bit loose. Suddenly her hoodie and bra went slack against her, and she nearly veered off the road in surprise as her hand flew to her chest. "Fuck!" She banged her fist on the steering wheel before taking a deep breath. "Okay, well, that's not a problem. If it happened once, it can happen again. At least I know how much of an effect one bottle has on me."

Zoe's mind wandered a bit as she continued to drive, and a few seconds later she added, "but not two."

 

*****

 

Once Zoe arrived back home she heated up an early dinner of leftover stew and egg noodles. Returning to her computer with the bowl in one hand and a glass of water in the other she set them down, noting that there were some additions that weren't there when she left which, from context, happened during her latest trip to the mall.

She set her glasses down before digging in, reading, and pondering. "Okay, so it knows what I'm thinking even when I'm not here, and can type stuff even when I'm not around to see it or respond." She forked a piece of potato into her mouth. "So it has range of at least ten or fifteen miles. Now this one-" She pointed to one paragraph. "-must have happened when I was in the store. I wanna think that it was narrating that I was doing and paying me a compliment, but why do it when I'd only see it now?" Pausing to spear a few noodles, she thought for a second. "Or it could have changed reality to help me out. But that would mean that it could change -me-, mentally. It could just wipe my brain and turn me into a zombie." She fell silent again, pondering that thought before frowning and shoveling more food into her mouth. "But it could've done that right away. There's a ton of stories where a woman gets an amazing figure but turns into a total airhead, so it could've just said, uh..." She gesticulated. "'But life does not give without taking, and with her sudden endowment she felt her intelligence slip away' or something fucked up like that." She put her fork down. "So let's add this."

"Zoe was grateful that, while it may have been capable of changing her without her knowing about it until after the fact, the force behind the text was not malicious. It did not seek to cause lasting harm."

"Nearly crashed my car after my boobs shrank though," she muttered.

Her actions in response to it, however, were another matter.

"Makes it sound like you gave me a loaded gun or something," she replied, returning to her meal. "Maybe you did."

 

*****

 

After finishing dinner, Zoe caught up on various minor chores and made limited inroads on her various writing endeavors, none of which were socially acceptable in the least. She was then struck with a malaise which can only be fully experienced by the owner of an expensive computer connected to a global information network and equipped with storage containing no fewer than twenty games of various genres. In her ennui she fixated on the newest contributions to her desk: A fresh glass of water and the two remaining bottles, of three, which she purchased from the health store.

For the second time that day she stripped off her shirt, sitting bare-chested in front of her computer, and for the second time that day she emptied pills into her mouth, washing them down with a glass of water. Both bottles were soon emptied and she sat there, waiting in anticipation until she felt a familiar prickling heat beneath her skin. Immediately her hands flew to her chest, and she grinned as the flesh begin to swell and bulge around her fingers.

In her haste and her lust, Zoe assumed that doubling the dose would be additive, giving her a few more cup sizes.

Within seconds they had reached their previous size, and as she read the text that had appeared her smile faltered.

In reality, it was multiplicative.

Zoe gaped at the screen, arms going loose in shock as her breasts pushed her hands away. As the bottoms of her breasts began to press against the edge of her desk, the growing enormity of the situation finally dawned on her, and she pushed her chair back. She continued to swell out in all directions, and she cradled her chest in an attempt to support the mounting weight. Soon they were resting against her lap; she had a vision of them sliding off either side and her being dragged down, pinned face-first against the desk. With a grunt she leaned back and lifted them as best she could, spreading her legs before setting them down again. As she began to worry just how much "multiplicative" meant, the heat faded, and Zoe sat there in tense silence before letting out a sigh of relief.

She was big, but she wasn't sure how big at the moment; all she knew was that all those drawings of women standing around this size were completely bullshit. She leaned to one side, gradually pulling her arm away and, after making sure she wasn't in danger of being dragged down, slowly pecked out some words on the keyboard.

"Even though the gains were multiplicative, it was no more permanent than the smaller dose."

"Okay," she said to herself, "at least I'm not going to be stuck like this forever. Now I just need to..."

After a second of thought Zoe turned her seat, pushing her chair backwards with her feet along the floor towards the side of her bed. Putting her arms beneath her breasts, she strained to heft them up before turning and depositing them on the edge, pulling herself into a leaning position. She shimmied out of her jeans, stepping out of them and leaving them on the floor, and from there she half-pushed, half-dragged them along the sheets, pausing every so often to recover from the sensation of smooth fabric brushing and pulling against her nipples.

After a few minutes of effort she reached the far side of the bed and, with no small amount of effort, put her head on her pillow and rolled onto her back, positioning her breasts so that they fell to either side of her body and, more importantly, were in no danger of smothering her. Zoe took a moment to relax after her exertion, and finally take in the knowledge that she was now so large that she was physically impeded. It was intoxicating, knowing that even the largest of porn stars and models, fake or natural, could still move, and yet here she was, who knows how many times larger than them. She put herself in a position where she was nearly helpless, yet she felt... powerful, in a way.

Zoe reached her hands around the base of her breasts, pulling them together and noting that her fingers barely overlapped at their widest point. Relaxing her arms, she let them slowly go back to her sides again. They were warm and heavy, pressing against her own ribs and upper body. She reached up, draping her arms around either side as she took her nipples in either hand, thick enough to be held between her index and middle fingers and thumbs. She brushed her thumbs against them, toying with them as they stiffened, and let out a little shiver. "Wow, that's..." She slid her hands down, running them in slow circles around the undersides of her breasts, feeling the give of her skin as she pressed her thighs together. "I need..." One hand roamed the surface of her swollen chest as the other reached off the side of the bed, groping around for the knob on her dresser drawer. She struggled to open it, grumbling to herself, before finally succeeding, fishing around inside of it for a certain device. "Finally. Gotta..."

She reached one arm down through the canyon of cleavage, flicking the device on. It hummed to life, and she pushed her panties aside. They were temporary, but she wanted to make the most of them.

Chapter 4

Zoe was overjoyed to have finally fulfilled one of her fantasies, but it was only one of many. Moreover, it was sexual, and a taste of sex, like good drink or power, only leaves the taster wanting more.

"You're not wrong," Zoe said, gesturing at the screen with half of a toaster pastry. Over the course of the night she had returned to her normal size, and was sitting in front of her computer in a fresh T-shirt and underwear. "But it still sounds like you're getting on my case." She took a bite of her breakfast. "The least you can do is not be so dramatic."

Dramatic. The word stuck in her head as she chewed, and she tried to place why it seemed so significant. As she took a drink of her cocoa it struck her and she let out a "mmm" muffled by a mouthful of beverage, quickly swallowing and setting her drink down. "That's it, isn't it? You're treating the world like a story, and by the rules of a story, there has to be drama or else it isn't interesting. Even when nothing is happening, you're still trying to make it seem like something -could- happen."

Little by little, Zoe was gaining a better understanding of the file.

"Alright, go me." Another thought came to her. "But that also means that I can't be in total control, because if I was I could just do exactly what I wanted, how I wanted. There'd be no drama." Her expression grew more sober. "...and this won't go out of its way to save me, so if I fuck up, I fuck up."

She finished the rest of her breakfast in silence, cleaning up before returning to her computer. "Okay, so. Let's see what we know: Breast enhancement pills work for a little while, but at twenty bucks a pop it's pretty expensive. I mean, I guess I could stream video games online with a webcam pointed at my tits to pay for it, but." After a second she laughed. "'I camwhore to pay for boobs, and use the boobs to camwhore, so I can pay for boobs. Breast growth supplements: Not even once.'" She rested her hand on her chin. "Could try other things. Got a lot of ideas. Only problem is that I don't have anything to wear; all I did was make my boobs bigger and I'm already down a shirt and have a top that still isn't a perfect fit, and that's just for a single size change for a single part caused by a single thing." She drummed her fingers on her cheek for a few seconds before raising her head, putting her fingers to the keyboard, and typing.

"In truth, Zoe did have something appropriate for expansion stashed away in the back of her closet. It just didn't occur to her because she had completely forgotten about it up until now."

She leaned back, waiting for a response. It was starting to become a habit. "So there should be something there. I just don't know what it is."

Standing, she went over to her closet, pulling the sliding doors open and checking the clothes stashed at the far ends of the rack. "School uniform, sweatshirts, old dress clothes, shirts that are probably too small..." She let out a short laugh. "Oh gosh, I can really make people wonder how I put those on. Nothing appropriate, though." Shoving the bottoms out of the way, she peeked inside one of the plastic bins. "Nope. Other side?" She pulled out, leaning in to check. The bins were similarly empty, but stashed away in the darkest corner was a well-sized white plastic container with a screw-on lid, the label too dark to read. She fished it out with one hand and pulled it out into the light to discover that it was a 32 ounce jar of black liquid latex, strangely heavy for its size.

Zoe turned it over in her hands, pondering it. Part of her wanted to try and recall the details - she faintly remembered buying it for research purposes but never had the courage to actually try it, or at least, she thought that was something she would have done. After a moment she felt a combination of deja vu and unfamiliarity - seeing something again that she had never seen - and she pushed the thought out of her mind, thinking that it was safer if she didn't pry too deeply.

Luckily for her mental state another thought struck her. "Wait a fuckin' minute!" She angrily waved the jug at the screen. "-This- is appropriate?! You couldn't give me some ACTUAL GODDAMN CLOTHES?"

The question was patently absurd.

"No it isn't! Don't write that!"

There was a pause as the text deleted and re-wrote itself.

The question was patently absurd, despite Zoe's protests to the contrary.

"IT'S NOT A STUPID QUESTION!!"

Zoe knew full well how many of her own protagonists wore it in some form or another, as well as of her own unfulfilled curiosity.

"Well that's because- I mean-"

She held an obvious interest towards it for a variety of reasons, not least of which was its connotations regarding inflatability.

"Okay, okay, so when I'm writing people turning into balloons I like it when they kind of look the part, but-"

Certainly, she had it in mind when seeking something 'appropriate for expansion.' The alternative was something quite loose, which she had in abundance."

Zoe let out a ragged sigh as she slumped into her chair, setting the canister down, putting her glasses to the side, and covering her blushing face with one hand. "Fine, you're not wrong. But it's still only temporary. I'd need to re-apply it if there was a significant change in size or buy more later." She let her hands drop into her lap. "...and I don't know what I can get away with, but if I'm-"

She jumped as there was the sudden scraping of plastic against wood. Her eyes immediately shot to the container, and she stared at it for a tense few seconds, expecting something to happen. After a moment of silence she slowly reached for it, picking it up and, after a moment of hesitation, unscrewing the cap.

As soon as the threads were separated the top was knocked out of her hand as a thick dark tendril erupted from the jar, lashing around her wrist. Zoe cried out, dropping the jar on the table as she pulled her arm away, tipping her chair backwards and falling to the floor. The tendril oozed around her limb, engulfing it, and she cursed as she attempted to remove it, tugging frantically at the edges of the stretchy substance.

When Zoe was younger, she heard that yogurt was produced by adding a culture to milk and letting it develop. She asked, jokingly, if someone let it sit long enough that it would gain intelligence and start its own country. But it is not unknown for things, seeded with something more, to change and become something more themselves over time. Perhaps, in some way, the jar accumulated Zoe's desires and lust over the long months and years, undergoing the transformation which so dramatically revealed itself to her.

After a bit Zoe realized she wasn't in any danger, and she calmed herself, pushing herself up with her free hand as she turned the other to and fro. "Did this just...? Is this -alive?-" She stood, picking up her chair, eyes not leaving the slick, black coating covering most of her forearm. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest as understanding dawned on her, almost afraid to assume for fear of being wrong. "Is this... living... liquid latex?"

What happened next was not the most reserved or well thought-out course of action Zoe had ever taken, but it was the most direct. She immediately pulled off her shirt, scooped up the container, and made for the bathroom, stripping her panties off on the way. The second her bare feet touched the tile floor she leaned back and upended the container over her chest, the thick, cool mass not really running down her body but flowing of its own volition.

It spread across her breasts and over her shoulders, uniting around her back before oozing down her arms, merging with what was already on her limb before pulling back from her hand to her wrist. From there it let gravity take hold, running in thick rivulets down her midsection and legs, stopping just above her ankles, covering her strip by strip until nearly done. With almost a deliberate slowness it covered the last bits of Zoe's nethers and backside, fully engulfing her but for her head, hands, and feet. The sheen dulled for a second before it took on a smoother, shinier texture, finally coming to rest.

Zoe looked down at herself, dashing out of the bathroom and returning with her glasses. Sliding them into place, she turned to and fro as she inspected her body in the mirror. "Oh wow."

It was smooth, cool, and slick, clinging to her like a second skin. With every move she made she could feel it against her. It was restricting, in a way, but not uncomfortably so; unlike tight jeans, she still had a full range of movement, and unlike any clothes at all it unerringly revealed her entire body while still keeping her covered.

As the initial rush wore off, she laughed, shaking her head. "I am a -huge- pervert." She left the bathroom, doing a pirouette in the kitchen. "But this feels really good! It's all -snug- and -shiny!- I can't believe I was such a chickenshit about this. I mean it's probably different because it's actually -alive-, but it can't be -that- different. Man, I could-"

Her cheeks reddened as she stopped herself mid-thought, then reddened more deeply as she realized what she was about to say. "I could go out in this," she said slowly. "Jesus, what the fuck." Zoe shook her head in disbelief. "I think I'd be better off if I just stayed home and got used to it. It's not like I have anything important to do." She thought for a moment and her expression fell. "Except cash those checks and go pick up some food. Great."

She looked down at herself before hooking her fingers around the collar of the suit and giving it a tug. The material stretched, pulling away from her skin before oozing around her fingers, snapping back painlessly and reforming. "Okay. Well. Guess I'm going out in a latex bodysuit. Nothing to lose but my dignity if anyone finds out, I guess."

Chapter 5

Getting dressed was a unique experience. Zoe had to forego her usual outfit choices in favor of finding something far more modest, which was ironic, because what she was already wearing was the furthest thing from it. Jeans were a given, but anything with short sleeves or a low collar was out of the question. She did, however, try a T-shirt on just to see what it looked like; she found the combination of it and the long latex sleeves rather striking, filing the idea away for a later date.

When she finally went outside she had settled on a thin grey long-sleeved turtleneck, which covered everything that needed to be covered but didn't stop her from nervously plucking at the cuffs. Her nervousness was compounded by the fact that she couldn't feel any of it; the only thing she felt against her skin was the slick latex suit. This, in turn, served to remind her that she was almost entirely engulfed in what was in all likelihood a living thing of unknown intelligence that had never seen the outside world.

As Zoe pulled her car onto the main street she said, "I don't know if you understand what I'm saying or how you communicate, but whatever happens, don't freak out." She eased the car to a stop at the intersection, checking either direction. "Worst-case scenario would probably be having the government find out and chase us. I don't know much about that file, but it would probably rather delete itself than write something that cliche." She slowly accelerated. "I know I would."

 

*****

 

Despite Zoe's concerns, her suit behaved itself perfectly, though she wasn't sure if it was staying still out of obedience or fear. Also despite her concerns, nobody seemed to be aware that she was dressed in fetish gear. Barring her unusual clothing, things proceeded as normal: She deposited her check in the bank and, on a lark, visited the book store, catching up on graphic novels and finding a few interesting titles on the bargain tables.

After making her purchase, she left, holding open the door for another young woman about her age. As she passed by, she flashed Zoe a knowing smile, proceeding on as if nothing had happened. Zoe froze, watching her walk away before letting the door close behind her, trying to inspect herself without making it obvious that she was doing so.

Regardless of what society may have thought about the content, Zoe was an artist, and like with all artists, whether they were aware of it or not, inspiration often came from the unlikeliest of places.

Content that she looked presentable, or at least less uneasy, she left the front of the store, turning towards a local pizza place and stopping in for lunch. The prices and portions were reasonable, though to her dismay they served Coca-Cola. As she eyed the soda fountain a thought formed in her mind, and she resolved to add two more items to her shopping list.

Following her meal she drove out of the mini-mall parking lot and was barely on the road for a minute when her outfit - the hidden one - began to act up. The latex around her right wrist seeped up, coating her hand, and she frowned and shook it reflexively. "Hey, come on. You're not in danger or anything." As she stopped at the light it coated her index finger, leaving the rest bare. Confused at its behavior, she scanned the right side of the street on a lark, the only noteworthy building out of the lot being a curtained adult novelty store. "Okay," she murmured, "maybe you know something I don't."

 

*****

 

Getting to the store was the simplest step, connected as it was to the road and possessing a discrete parking lot in the rear.

Determining that it was, indeed, where her... clothing? Parasite? Whatever it was, determining that it was where it wanted her to go was next to hardest. At the very least, during the process Zoe learned that it understood relative directions, basic human non-verbal communication, and had at least one sense, though what the sense or senses in question were, or whether any were the same as her, was still unknown.

Actually entering the store proved the biggest challenge. Not due to any challenges posed by the occupants, or the lock, or the door, or anything of that measure, but because Zoe was having trouble working up the courage to leave the car and actually enter. She told herself, repeatedly, that she was being absurd, and that the things she had written and done, -this very day,- were at least on par with anything she might find inside. She was -wearing a latex bodysuit-, for god's sake!

After a few minutes of hesitation Zoe took a deep breath, steeled herself, and stepped out of the car, climbing the steps and entering the store. She wasn't sure what she expected, but the store was more subdued than what she thought a shop full of sex toys would be like, though admittedly she didn't have anything to go off of. Likewise, she didn't know who would be behind the register, but she didn't expect such a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman. To be perfectly honest, she looked rather motherly, like a younger Dr. Ruth.

"Hello, dear," she said with a pleasant smile. "I was worried you wouldn't come in."

"You, uh... knew I was here?"

"Oh my, yes. I could see your car through the curtain. You were debating whether to leave or not, weren't you?"

"Kinda."

"You might not think it, but you were very courageous coming in here. People can go their entire lives wanting something, not knowing what and never being brave enough to look for it."

"You mean like with sex?"

"With anything." The woman smiled. "But intimacy first and foremost. At least for the store, and for you."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

"Oh. Well. Yeah, yeah, I guess." Zoe gestured with a finger. "Is it okay if I look around? I'm looking for something but I don't know what, but I know it's in here. Does that make sense?"

She gave her a polite nod. "Take your time."

Zoe nodded to herself, turning away and meandering through the store. It was small, but contained a dizzying amount of books, devices, outfits, and paraphernalia, and she wondered how it could stay in business in the digital age. Convenience, she assumed, though the pornos on DVD still seemed outdated. Despite herself she still felt nervous and embarrassed about being there, though it could have been far worse.

As she headed down one of the aisles the latex crept up, coating both her hands, and she looked behind her to see if she wasn't being watched. "What is it?" she murmured, scanning the shelves. "What do you want me to get?" She turned, and her eyes fell on a combo pack of multicolored liquid latex; reaching out, she picked it up, and the suit instantly retracted. "So that's it. Are you hungry or think you're boring or what?" Turning it over in her hands she added, "hopefully you're not hungry. You're an expensive mouth to feed if you are."

She returned to the register just as the woman came out of the back room. "Did you find what you were looking for?" the woman asked. Zoe set the box down and went to pull out her wallet as the woman rang up her purchase. "If I may make a suggestion."

"Sure."

"Green is more your color. It matches your eyes."

Zoe looked down at herself. "Oh, I just threw this on to go out."

"That's fine," the woman said with a tender smile, "but that's not what I was referring to." Zoe blushed fiercely, and the woman patted her hand. "It's fine, dear, you're safe here. It's your first time, isn't it? Going out like that?"

Zoe nodded, then again, a bit more confidently. "Yeah, it's... new for me."

"What's it like?"

"Well, it's slick, and-"

"No, I mean... what's it like?"

"Ohh." She thought for a second. "Well. It's like having a secret that's out in the open for people to find. You're always on edge, expecting people to find out. But it doesn't really feel bad. It's actually kind of exciting. Is that weird?"

She gave a light laugh. "Oh, honey. If people stopped worrying about being weird we'd all be much happier."

 

*****

 

Zoe finally returned home, with a few more items in tow than she had planned. One was the latex, which despite living by herself she secreted away in her closet for the time being. The other two were a three-liter bottle of Diet Coke and six rolls of Mentos, neither of which were given much attention by the cashier, thanks in part to Zoe putting them at opposite ends of her purchase. Now, they were given much more attention, sitting on the table in front of her couch as she sat there, elbows on her knees, fingers steepled.

"I am doing -so- much stupid shit these days," she said. Standing and walking towards her bedroom, she added, "but I can make it less stupid. Or at least less painful if I fail." She entered, sitting down and moving her mouse around a bit to wake up the monitor. The text file was still there, with a few additions since she last saw it. Pausing to catch up on it, she thought for a bit before typing.

"Zoe had suspected it ever since dosing herself up on breast enhancement pills and getting immediate results. She wasn't sure what, but something was different, and the difference had affected her. Perhaps even to say that something was different was incorrect, and that things had always been as they were and she was never in the mindset to notice. Regardless, she knew that her fantasies were no longer purely constrained to that realm; the sudden, extreme manipulation of human anatomy was at the very least possible."

After a second it added:

The full realm of possibility, however, remained to be seen.

"Yeah, well." She stood, walking back out. "At the rate I'm going I might as well buy a fish tank air pump or something to stick up my ass."

Zoe sat back down on the couch, opening up the rolls of Mentos and the bottle of Coke. She knew swallowing both would be a task, though for different reasons. After a moment of hesitation she took a roll of Mentos in one hand and, with a bit of effort, quickly swallowed them whole. Hoisting the bottle of soda, she followed the mints with a long draught of Coke, drops spilling onto her turtleneck as she struggled with the wide mouth. She let out a note of distaste as she quickly tore open a second package of mints, downing them and chasing it with more soda.

As she repeated the process a third time she began to wonder about her gag reflex, or lack thereof, when her thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt gassiness. It was exactly like when she drank soda too fast - which she did, in fact, nearly a liter and a half's worth - but getting more intense. She quickly swallowed some more Mentos and chugged down some more soda before things began in earnest, realizing after the fact that she may have overdone it. There was a fizzing in her stomach as the carbonation built up, and as her belly began to swell she capped the bottle and slumped back on the couch, pulling back the hem of her turtleneck and watching her latex-clad belly rise up beyond her control. The material didn't constrict her, stretching and conforming to her body as the gas expanded, giving her a perfect view that for all the world looked like a balloon.

Zoe closed her mouth, breathing through her nose and trying not to burp, watching in anticipation and carefully muted joy. She had gotten this big once before, in a fit of binge eating that left her violently ill afterwards. But now she was going beyond that and she felt fine, with no painful tightness or nausea to speak of. Turning, she laid down on the sofa and undid her jeans, watching her belly rise higher, eclipsing her feet, and feeling the zipper slowly be pushed open. As she continued to swell she traced one finger along the growing curve, careful not to push down too hard.

Eventually the cocktail in her stomach ran its course and she felt the fizzing abate, replaced with a pleasant sensation of pressure and fullness. Her body simply rose up sharply, a mound a hand's length higher than normal at its tallest point, filled with carbonated gas and a lot of soda. She ran her hands over it and the latex, as if sensing her intent, pulled away, leaving her midsection bare. Drumming her fingers on her skin, she felt a hollow thump, awed by how this size, this fullness was her.

By now Zoe felt confident enough to breathe through her mouth again, and she let out a breathy laugh, cradling her swollen gut. Looking over at the table, her eyes fell on the remaining Mentos, and she briefly contemplated seeing how much larger she could get. But no, she thought. There was more than enough time for that later.

Chapter 6

"Okay." Zoe unscrewed the small container of red liquid latex. "How are we going to do this?"

At the end of the day, removing her outfit was surprisingly simple: All she had to do was ask and it simply flowed off of her, thick and fluid, running down her body into a pool of black latex. After that she stepped out of it and it took on a round droplet shape, soft but still easy to pick up; unsure of the proper care and maintenance of a latex suit that may have been alive and aware, she took it into the shower with her, soaping it up and rinsing it off before putting it on the counter to try. It must have been fine with its treatment because when she woke up it was still there, ready to be transported to the kitchen table beside the sampler pack of liquid latex Zoe had brought out and what was either her very late breakfast or an early lunch.

"I know you wanted this," she said, gesturing with the plastic jar, "or at least I think you did. I just don't know... you know, -how- you want it."

The sides of the latex blob curled up, creating a bowl-like depression in the center. Zoe shrugged, pouring the jar into the center of it. As she shook out the last drops the liquid drained away, and the black faded to the same shade of candy apple red before fading back again. Opening a jar of blue, she added it, the material turning to a matching hue, then cycling through various shades of purple before returning to black again. The process repeated itself for each color, taking longer each time as more combinations were formed, and by the end it passed through the entire spectrum, the surface shifting through a disorienting and nearly headache-inducing cascade of hues before returning to relative normality.

Zoe removed her glasses, rubbing her eyes to ease the sudden tension behind them. "I hope that's normal. Or what passes for normal."
She lowered her hand, waiting for it to change colors again, when the word "normal" stuck in her head and she noted something odd about it. Sizing up the blob of her suit and the empty containers of liquid latex, she did some mental calculations, coming up with an answer that should have been impossible.

"Wait a minute." She put her glasses back on, pointing to the suit. "You're not any bigger, are you? I added more -to- you, but you're still the same size. I mean, I added more to -me- a few times, but that was..." She folded one arm under her chest, supporting the other as she tapped her thumbnail against her teeth, thinking. "Well, that made sense contextually; you'd expect it to happen within the confines of a story about breasts getting bigger because that's the internal logic. But you... when you pour two of the same liquid together - even when one of them is alive - it still adds together. I don't know what you a-" She fell silent for a second, and the corner of her lip curled up in a small, cunning smile before she retreated to her bedroom. "That's right, I don't know what you are. You're strange and you defy the laws of physics, so maybe there's one thing you -can- be."

Zoe sat down and, after formulating her thoughts, began typing.

"Zoe couldn't confirm what it was, and perhaps that was for the best. As strange as the few things she had experienced recently were, they paled in comparison to what else could lay in the far reaches of space beyond the sight of telescopes, sunken in the ocean's trenches where light never touches, or in the distant past and far future. If - when - they encountered man, she could hope that they, like that which she discovered, were benign and wanted peace and coexistence.

"Her thoughts turned to its odd nature. That it was able to gain without gaining was a sign that, perhaps, the rest of it could not be seen, shunted into some pocket in space or other plane of existence entirely. There was, quite literally, more to it than meets the eye, either possessing the mathematical knowledge to breach the gap between worlds and provide a counter-force and leverage to counteract changes in weight or mass, or being large enough that its sheer strength could render her own weight negligible."

After a long moment of hesitation, she finalized the paragraphs with a press of the Enter key. "That should do it. I hope. Let's see how bad I fucked the world."

Her response came almost too quickly for her tastes:

As she re-read her words, Zoe was struck by how difficult it was to invoke nameless things beyond human ken without the implication spawning more ancient and terrible existences or, worse yet, drawing their attention. Cosmic horror was an idea she flirted with, but not one she would wish upon the world, regardless of how much more interesting life would become.

Several seconds passed, without addendum. Zoe let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and slouched in her seat. "Okay, I'm going to let that last part slide because it feels like you let me get away with a -lot- just by not having Dagon erupt from the ocean." She rested her hand on her chin, taking a moment to recover and think. "All this just so I don't have to buy sports bras anymore. Well, not -just- sports bras, but hopefully if I ever go nuts with the pills again I'll be able to walk around." She went to type again. "Though maybe not just the pills."

"Her breasts weren't the only thing that had grown, or were capable of growing. Her appetite in particular was piqued, and could take quite a bit to sate. Though considering her desires trended towards excess, she knew exactly what this would entail."

"Good." Standing, she shimmied out of her sleeping shorts, picking them up off the floor with one foot before pulling off her top and throwing them next to her pillow before heading back towards the kitchen. "So all I need to do is wear an eldritch being and I'm all set. Just as long as it's not overtly chthonic or lubricious." She stopped. "Lubricious? Is that even a word?"

Retracing her steps, Zoe bent over the back of her chair to do a quick search. "Lubricious. 'Having a slippery or smooth quality' or..." She arched an eyebrow. "...'sexually stimulating.' Probably not what he meant." She backpedaled until she had a clear view of the table and the latex blob resting upon it. "Hey, uh..." She frowned. "I need a name for you," she muttered, before raising her voice again. "Would you consider yourself lubricious?"

The blob responded by reshaping itself, taking on an appropriate and yet somehow highly inappropriate form. The resemblance was close enough, but there were minor embellishments here and there and overall it was four times normal size.

Zoe stared. "Christ almighty, I'm not HOLLOW." Walking to it, she added, "you better not do that shit when I'm wearing you. Come on."

As the suit reached out and oozed around her, slick, snug, and perfectly form-fitting, and despite knowing the potential public humiliation she risked going out, Zoe barely even considered the possibility of not wearing it.

She rolled her shoulders. "Ah, that's nice. But, um, it's kind of nice out. I was hoping to wear short sleeves, so maybe if you...?" In response, the latex drew back from her neck and arms, leaving only her body and legs covered as it faded to a deep forest green. Zoe looked herself over in the reflection in the window. "She was right, I really do look better in green. Now all I need is a loose shirt and some jeans that need a belt."

 

*****

 

As a general rule, Zoe never went to buffets by herself. She had seen people who did, and they always looked depressing, as rude as that sounded. This time, however, she was willing to make an exception, driving to an out-of-the-way Chinese buffet she never visited before. She was hungry, but she wasn't driven by hunger so much as the desire to eat, filled with a nervous anticipation that was at once equal parts gluttony and lust.

After parking outside the restaurant she took a second to calm herself, waiting until the slight dizziness and the fluttering in her chest faded. She then entered the restaurant, grateful that she was expected to pay first, before being escorted to her seat and taking no time in visiting the bar proper. She started off with a modest bowl of wonton soup then, once that was finished, put as much fried rice and sweet and sour chicken on a plate as she could manage and began to gorge herself.

Zoe was a fast eater by nature, something which served her well as she emptied her plate in a matter of minutes. Setting it aside, she left her seat, returning with a hill of plain rice, a half-dozen wontons and the rest of the tray of General Tso's chicken. That, too, disappeared in rapid order. As she retrieved some vegetable lo main and boneless spare ribs she was aware that, under normal circumstances, she would be positively stuffed. She certainly felt that she had eaten more than her normal fill, but she didn't feel like she had reached her limit. Far from it, in fact. The thought excited her; eating wasn't the thrill, so much as the ability to eat without having to stop.

In about forty minutes she had devoured eight plates of food, sampling nearly every main course and side dish the buffet had, acquiring a soft pot belly that stuck out about six inches over her belt in the process. Both she and it had begun to attract attention from the staff so, after draining her fourth glass of water, she left a hefty tip and hurried out, her belly lightly jostling with every step. Opening her car door she stripped off her belt, tossing it on the passenger's side seat before climbing in with a bit more effort than normal and leaving the lot, promptly hitting a red light.

As much control as Zoe had exercised over her life, and as much as she attempted to control her tale, circumstance and providence still held sway, their invisible hands tangling her thread.

While waiting for nonexistent traffic from other lanes, Zoe's eyes fell on a family-run sports restaurant she had never seen before with a sign outside that had never been there. Written across three lines in the blocky, capital letter font of signboards was the phrase "TRY THE BURGERSAURUS REX CHALLENGE!"

Without much thought she shrugged. "Sure," she said to herself, "why the hell not?"

 

*****

 

The restaurant was clean and modest in design, with a dining area set near the bar and a wide, open door leading out onto patio seating. The walls near the entrance were covered in framed news articles, various awards, and photos of local celebrities, the names of whom Zoe couldn't hope to recall.

One photo in particular was captioned "The Burgersaurus Rex Challenge: Finish everything in 30 minutes or less and your meal is free!!" The photo depicted the burger in question, a thick, vaguely circular slab of ground beef, slathered in dripping cheese and sauces and topped with an entire package of bacon and what could have been a large salad unto itself, resting between two frisbee-sized discs of bread and sitting in the center of a baking tray's worth of french fries. It was decadent, greasy, and oversized, and Zoe wanted to shove the entire thing straight down her throat. Her thoughts drifted to her eagerly biting into a massive piece of it, lying nude on a bed covered in satin sheets as her most recent game character caressed her massive belly with one of his hands, sliding the fingers of the other deep into her-

Zoe blinked and pulled her head back, only having a moment to reflect on the depths of her depravity as the waiter appeared. "Hi, can I take your order?"

She gave the photo a deliberate tap with her finger. "That."

"It's $34.99."

"That's fine."

"Just so you know, the burger and the fries are six pounds total. It's four and two. If you don't finish both the burger and the fries in thirty minutes, you have to pay for it."

"I know."

"You still want to do it?" he asked, looking over the tall, slight young woman in front of him and wondering how six pounds of food might fit in her, gut or no.

"Yeah." She held out her debit card. "Let's try it."

"Anything else?"

"A large milkshake. Strawberry, please."

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You're going to need a lot of room, you know."

"Nah, but seriously. Two large strawberry milkshakes."

 

*****

 

"Oh my god," she mumbled, slumping back in her chair. "That was -awesome-."

Zoe was not the only person in the restaurant at the time, and certainly not the first to try the challenge. For their part, they considered her attempt a joke, but were still willing to offer advice, one of whom told her of the clever tactic of cutting it into slices like a cake and eating it that way, rather than as a normal burger. She did so, and they waited, expecting her to stop less than halfway through.

Except she didn't.

Reactions trended towards horrified awe at the sight of Zoe, someone half the weight of some of the patrons, positively inhaling six pounds of meat, cheese, bread, and potatoes in the span of fifteen minutes, washing it all down with half a gallon of milkshake. Her gut had grown significantly from the feast, spilling into her lap, pushing up her shirt, and exposing her navel and midsection. In its mysterious cunning the latex had taken on her skin tone which, in the light of the bar, let it go unnoticed despite the attention she was getting.

For his part, the water was at least not overtly incredulous as he approached. "Congratulations. How was it?"

She wiped her face with a napkin. "I liked the part where it was six pounds of food. A little bland in the middle, though. The bacon helped a little, but- oh!" She pointed at a waiter passing by with a tray, who stopped. "What's that?"

"Uh." He looked over at the waiter, who raised the bun on a normal-sized burger. "Teriyaki burger."

"Get me one of those. And another large milkshake."

 

*****

 

Before she left the store insisted on a photograph, and Zoe insisted that if they absolutely had to, they take it with her leaning forward. That way her sizeable stomach was stowed below the table between her legs and out of view so not as to arouse suspicion. Following that, she paid and bounced and sloshed her way to her car.

The drive back home was littered with interruptions, all of which were Zoe's doing. She stopped at every fast food restaurant with a drive-through, ordering at least two meals and fastidiously consuming them before continuing on to the next. What would have been a relatively short trip was instead drawn out so much that she would have arrived home in time for an early dinner. She knew this, and made her last destination a major pizza chain that delivered.

Meals added to meals took their toll on her, and by the time she parked outside the store her stomach took up the entire space between her and the steering wheel. Her body felt quite heavy, though thanks to the latex suit she didn't feel weighed down by it, which only meant that she had to deal with its bulk and the fact that it was hanging over her belt nearly down to her hips. With a little effort she exited her car, and had to slow her footfalls to keep the wobbling to a minimum, but at the very least she wasn't in danger of falling over and being unable to stand again. The thought of being so stuffed it impaired her movement in public was at once fearful and strangely intriguing, though not enough so for her to actually try it.

She pushed the door open, half with her hand and half with her belly, and the woman behind her register tried very hard not to gawk at her. Zoe scanned the menu as she neared the counter, misjudging the distance and bumping into it with her belly. "The two large pizza and two liter soda deal."

"Yes?"

"I want five of them. Two each of cheese, pepperoni, mushroom, chicken, and..." She looked up at the menu again, "hmm"ing to herself. "...sausage. For delivery, please."

"It's going to take a while."

She held out her debit card. "Just make it happen."

 

*****

 

The first thing Zoe did upon returning home was remove her shoes and pants, leaving her clad in a green latex bodysuit and a shirt that was pushed up below her breasts. The zipper was starting to press uncomfortably into the underside of her gut, and at any rate she figured that she may as well relax once she was home.

The second thing she did was eat. The first things to go were the leftovers, heated up and eaten one after another, empty plates and bowls left in the sink. Then she made two sandwiches before realizing that it was just a waste of time and eating the cold cuts and cheese straight from the packages, following them with the rest of the loaf of bread. Chasing it with a gallon of milk, she went on to a box of cereal and an entire package of cookies, finishing it off just as the pizza arrived.

What followed after that was the third of the day's feasts. Setting the pizzas down on one side of the couch and the sodas on the other, she let her sheer mass pull her down onto the couch before switching the television to the most interesting thing she could find and digging in, following every pie with half a bottle of soda. She knew that food lost its flavor once you lost your hunger, but the pizza was just as good as she remembered. More than that, she reveled in revel in the thought that the growing, heaving weight hanging off her frame was her.

Ten large pizzas and ten liters of soda later, she let out a contented sigh. Resting between her spread legs was the result of five hours of near-constant eating: A soft, shiny, swollen, huge green latex-clad bulge the size of a small beanbag chair, stretching out beyond her knees and rising high in front of her, with a wide, deep-set navel set in the far side, which hung over the edge of the couch. She reached out with both arms, giving herself a squeeze and receiving a quiet gurgle in response. It was unreal, seeing herself at this size, knowing that all of it was -her-.

"I'm huge," she said to herself, rubbing her belly. "I'm a huge... -engorged- fatty. I spent all day stuffing my face and now I'm a big, bloated pig. Just strap a hose to my mouth and let me suck down milkshakes all day, fatten me up to the size of a house-" She leaned her head back. "-and I'm sitting here dirty-talking to myself and -god- someone roll me into the bedroom and fuck me already."

"The thing about magic," the old scientist on the television said, "is that if it existed, modern science would try to determine how it fit into our current understanding of the laws of physics. This is fundamentally wrong; if magic was real, if people could turn lead into gold and transform themselves into animals, then that would mean everything we knew about reality needed to be rewritten from scratch. It would be an entirely new age of discovery."

Zoe raised her head. There was something very familiar about what the scientist said, and she wanted him to keep talking to see if that couldn't jog her memory, but as soon as she looked at the television he was gone and the subject had changed. She sat there, attempting to recall it until she felt two hands pressing on the underside of her belly, tracing circles on it with their fingers. "Hey, are you-"

Her words were cut short as two more hands touched her, gently squeezing her sides as an unseen finger trailed up the underside of her gut. "Oh that's nice," she breathed. "Are you doing this?" She settled down in her seat as the suit caressed her, unseen lips pressing against her soft curves. One hand trailed down the underside of her belly, pressing between her legs and gently parting her nethers. Zoe inhaled sharply, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah. Please."

The latex gently slid into Zoe, and the rest of her night was spoken for.

Chapter 7

Zoe eventually fell asleep from a combination of tiredness, sexual exhaustion, and a strangely mild food coma. She woke up late in the morning, midway through an infomercial, after belching loud enough to startle herself awake. Standing and stretching, she found that her massively food-stuffed and distended stomach had returned to its normal size overnight, and she stood still for a moment to take stock of how she felt. "Fine" was the word that came to mind first; feeling suddenly paranoid, she ran one hand down the base of her spine, feeling between her latex-clad butt cheeks, both baffled and relieved upon finding nothing.

Heading into her room she approached her computer, tapping the arrow keys a few times to wake up the monitor. Opening her closet, she swapped her t-shirt for a clean one, checking the file in the process. There were a few paragraphs from when she was out, adding a few details about her binge, and a paragraph when she returned home that was added during her sleep. It was interesting to see what she hoped was an outsider's view of what happened, and not some unseen force manipulating her actions.

Opening the dresser drawer, she pulled out a pair of jeans and held them up, stopping mid-turn before looking down at the green latex bodysuit she was still wearing. She had quickly gotten used to wearing shiny, form-fitting clothing, even under her normal clothes, and if she wasn't going out she wasn't really sure why she would have to get dressed. It wasn't like walking around in your underwear, Zoe reasoned, because a bodysuit covered more up. On the other hand, it was exotic fetish wear that technically exposed as much as underwear would. Either way, neither were acceptable for wearing by themselves out in public, but one did provide more protection from hot beverages spilled on your lap. Or hot sauces and pastry fillings.

Zoe shook her head as she put her jeans back. "Geez, I ate a week's worth of food in one day and I'm thinking about breakfast. Although I never really showed what happened the day after other people did it when I wrote, come to think." She leaned on the dresser, thinking. "What even happens next? Do I just go on like normal? Is all of this just going to be a regular thing with me?" She fell silent for a moment. "Although I guess if you replaced it with like, getting tied up or dressing up in a fursuit or something it would be the same? I mean, I'm getting- ...I'm doing it for..." She hesitated. "...recreational purposes. I still have a life outside of it. Maybe I should take a break today and just play video games or something."

As she turned back towards her computer she saw text appearing and squinted, reflexively touching the bridge of her nose to feel for her glasses. Her search coming up empty, she neared the computer, leaning over the chair to read.

For one who engaged in such conjecture and theorycrafting, Zoe hadn't put much thought in the possibilities for what happened next. The reason her writing experience didn't tell her is that there was no "next" to speak of; the reason the stories existed was to detail the process, not what comes later.

"I guess that makes sense. It's kind of like asking what they did with the condom after a sex scene." She paused. "That analogy sucked."

Doubtless, the day after such a feast would be different depending on the nature of the one who did the feasting. For Zoe, who was naturally familiar with quick results from various supplements, the tens of thousands of digested calories and mass amounts of nutrients would quickly make their presence known.

Just as she read those words, Zoe was aware of was the latex stretching across her skin as, all at once, she felt herself grow heavier. "Oh no." She reached for the keyboard, feeling her center of balance subtly shift with the growing weight. "Nonononono."

"Though she considered herself lucky it just made her big and not an immobile blob."

She straightened up as she began to fill out her shirt, the fabric stretching everywhere at once as her belly began to poke out beneath it. Knowing it was a lost cause, she tugged on the collar, stitches tearing just as it grew snug beneath her armpits.

What she failed to consider in her haste was that "big" had many different connotations.

Zoe stared at the sentence in disbelief before glancing worriedly at the ceiling. Her steadily increasing weight quickly made itself known all over: Her thighs began to brush against, then press into each other. Her love handles pushed her arms to the sides, and her shirt rode up on her belly as her growing breasts strained against it, then tore it apart. She fled her room, the soles of her feet even feeling softer, her body shaking and shuddering with each step as her line of sight slowly, inexorably, began creeping higher.

She pulled the remains of her shirt off of her and looked down at herself, her view partially obscured by her breasts. "I don't think a skin-tight outfit is a good idea when I'm GETTING HUGELY FAT," she snapped. In response, the latex receded from her midsection and re-formed, flowing beneath her feet in the process and leaving her in black thigh-high stockings, panties, and a strapless bra, still with the texture of latex and subtly growing with her. "Yeah," she grumbled. "Great, thanks."

Standing in the living room Zoe ran her hands over herself, feeling her gut swell, her thighs widen, and her breasts grow, noting that she was slowly growing taller all the while. Part of her did find it interesting to grow bigger like this, but there was a note of fear and anxiety in her coming from how uncontrolled it was. She reached up, easily pressing one hand flat against the ceiling. Her body was unnatural, both in shape and size; too round, too large, too tall, and all getting worse by the second. She had seen drawings of giant, corpulent women stomping through cities, who shook the earth with their steps and shoved buildings aside with sheer girth alone. The thought excited and terrified her, and she considered going outside before it was too late. But, to her relief, she felt it slow and eventually halt.

She tried to take stock of her appearance, but found her view obstructed by herself. There weren't any reflective surfaces large enough in the area, so she opted to use the bathroom mirror. Getting in was a task in and of itself; too tall for the door, she crouched on thick legs, and too wide for the door she turned sideways, squeezing one breast through, then her belly, then her ass and finally the other breast. Taking a look at herself in the mirror, she wasn't at all prepared for it.

Zoe couldn't describe herself as flabby, but this was not to say that she was not fat. Indeed, "fat" was the only word that could possibly describe her at this point, starting with her pudgy toes and feet. The fat on her shins swelled over her ankles, flaring out before turning in again ever so slightly at her knees, then padding thighs over twice as thick as her normal torso. Her ass was round, firm, and massive, where a single cheek would have easily overflowed her computer chair and, combined with her widened thighs, meant that walking straight through doorways would have entailed getting stuck. Her upper body could politely be described as "barrel-shaped" but more simply as "round," with a single thick, wide roll of flab jutting out in front of her with a deep navel sunk into the center. Resting atop this shelf of fat were her breasts, so round and firm that they didn't even sag or droop and so large that they, combined with her belly, obscured a great deal of vision in front of her. Her arms and hands were the least impacted, but still radically changed, slender limbs and digits now trunk-like and chubby. To top it all of, while normally tall for a woman, she had gained two feet on top of that, forcing her to lean forward if she wanted a better look at her round face.

"Jesus," she breathed. She pressed both hands into her wide gut before cupping her chest, hefting it. "Am I just... did I turn into Venus of Willendorf? Christ, I'm huge."

For a while - she didn't know how long - she simply looked herself over in the mirror, eyes tracing every new curve and bulge. She couldn't even begin to guess how much she weighed, knowing that even someone half her size would have trouble standing and moving around. Her thoughts turned to the previous day, trying to mentally calculate what she ate and how much of an effect it had on her. How many of those pizzas made up her wide, bulging belly? How much did the Burgersaurus Rex add? Despite her unrestrained gluttony and the absurd size she reached, she knew she could have eaten more. What would have happened if she did? Would the fat simply have mounted up until she was a mountain of flesh, only mobile thanks to the strange effects of the living latex half-supporting, half-carrying her? Would she have grown, unrestrained, breaking through her home to terrorize the populace?

Zoe shook herself out of it, squeezing through the bathroom door. She was cushioned on all sides by something soft and heavy, and she had to remind herself that it was -her-. Everything felt smaller and more confining, but at the same time her size gave her a greater presence. That it happened at all was sudden, but she had to admit that it wasn't that bad, not least in part because it was something she was into.

There was just one problem.

"I'd probably break my computer chair if I sat down on it," she said, before looking down at her hands. "...and I think my fingers are too fat to use a keyboard." Her arms fell at an angle to her sides before she rested her hands on her hips. "So that's out of the question. Guess I'm watching television or something. Maybe eat some-" She stopped. "Oh my god, am I actually -hungry?- Still? I've eaten nearly everything in here, and I can't even fit in my car to go out. I'd have to order something, but then I'd have to..." She trailed off, and the corners of her mouth curled up into an impish smile. "...answer the door."

 

*****

 

The pizza delivery man pressed the doorbell, balancing the two pies on one hand. Somewhere through the frosted glass he saw a silhouette move into view, followed by a very faint sound that almost sounded like restrained laughter. The shadow approached, and he took a step back as the owner of the residence stepped through, putting one arm up and leaning against the door frame.

"Hey there," Zoe said breathily. "Got something for me?"

If asked, the delivery man would describe the young woman at the door as "plush and unremarkable," because the reality of it - "a giant fat woman in lingerie with a fuck-me smile" - wouldn't have been believed.

"I, um..." He stared up at her, transfixed, until seemingly remembering he was there to deliver something, and held out the boxes to her like it was a peace offering. "Your, your pizza."

"Oh, thank you." As she took them she looked at him politely. "Perhaps you'd like to join me? Maybe we can do some... -other- things, if you're up to it."

"No! I mean that's fine, I, I have other..." He pointed over his shoulder. "...other deliveries."

"Aww." She pointed. "Well," she said, winking, "you're welcome to stop by any time."

Zoe watched him quickly depart before ducking her head and returning inside. Closing the door behind her, she cracked up laughing. "Oh man! Now -that- made it worthwhile."

Chapter 8

The phrase "a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips" was often used with regards to food, but in Zoe's case, "easy come, easy go" was far more applicable. Despite the ominous creaking her bed made when she laid down on it, it held throughout the night and she slept soundly, cushioned by her soft body. The only disturbance was a vivid dream of her being fed marshmallow fluff through a hose, then growing to titanic sizes and walking through the streets of New York City. Some women in jumpsuits appeared, firing beams of purple-pink energy at her crotch, and she woke up disoriented and strangely aroused.

"I'd be more upset about this if I wasn't expecting it to be here," Zoe said, gesturing at the screen with her glasses.

She had come to accept the changes in her life, but a seed of doubt grew in her mind.

"About that," she continued, putting her glasses on. "At first I thought that it was all my doing, and that any major changes that happened were either because of what I did or in reaction to what I did, and that I needed to keep things secret because people would notice things were different compared to... well, normal. But then I saw that restaurant, and I -know- it wasn't there before. I mean, I drove past where it was a ton of times, and all the customers and staff and news articles on the inside made it look like it was there for years, but either I never noticed it before now or it -didn't- exist, and I didn't ask for it and nothing here came up about me wishing it into reality or whatever. So something's changed - something that affected other people - and it wasn't my doing."

Zoe stood up from her computer, taking her pants from the end of her bed. "I need to go out and see if anything else is different. This is getting kinda weird."

 

*****

 

Zoe left her home, first heading through her neighborhood before taking a winding path towards the outskirts of the small city. She took a pace that was mildly unpleasant to drivers behind her, but she was more concerned with being able to get a good look at what she was driving by than making friends. The stores, groceries, and other buildings close by were as she had always seen them, ingrained in her memory so well that she could probably reach them with her eyes closed, and beyond that everything was the same. It wasn't until she was some distance away, about thirty or forty minutes from home for an average drive, and approaching unfamiliar territory, that things started getting strange.

Major buildings and landmarks that she could recall were there, and she knew that there were things between them, which there clearly were. Despite the fact that she couldn't remember -what- they were supposed to be, upon driving past and seeing for herself, she couldn't help but feel that what was there was simply -wrong-. Strip malls and blocks of buildings looked like copies based not on what was there, but what -would- be there. The closest thing she could think of was that it was meant to be identical, but recreated by someone who didn't have a full grasp of the area.

By adding to the file she changed herself and things about her, and people noticed it and knew it was out of the ordinary. It stood to reason, then, that if she changed the world then people would notice that too, unless she wrote an addendum saying they wouldn't. But she hadn't done either. So what was this? Some sort of literary radiation? Did she accidentally turn her home into a focal point for some sort of reality-altering singularity? If she drove long enough in one direction would she end up passing by random patchworks of stores and offices, viewed as the old and everlasting normalcy by people who didn't even realize anything changed?

She stopped at a local mall, finding that at the very least it was mostly intact from how she remembered. She ate something bland and small to settle her stomach, then called her parents to check to see if anything happened to the world out of state. Everything was fine, thankfully, and the conversation turned, as it inevitably does when parents and children are close, to Zoe's welfare. Explaining what was happening was an impossibility, but Zoe could at least say that world was changing, and that she was worried since she could have an effect on it but didn't know if it was for the better or not. Her mother and father gave her some advice, then they said their goodbyes before Zoe hung up; it didn't fix any of her problems, but it did make her feel a little better.

After leaving the mall parking lot she drove into a commercial district, seeing offices and private clinics on either side. Her eyes went to a sign and she did a double-take, feeling the color drain from her face as her mouth suddenly went dry. She violently turned off the road into the lot outside the building complex - the first buildings that looked both out of place and familiar - screeching to a halt before parking in the nearest spot and exiting her car, trotting over to the sign for a better view of the name that caught her attention.

Dr. Valerie Vahlen. Zoe knew a lot about her.

After all, Zoe was the one who created her.

 

*****

 

The waiting room was too large for the building but Zoe knew exactly why that was, and the receptionist was very polite considering she was dealing with someone who looked a bit panicked and short of breath. "Can I help you?"

"I need to speak to Doctor Vahlen," Zoe said.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I-" She brushed her hair back. "-it's important, okay?"

"Alright, but you understand that she's doing important work at the moment and can't be interrupted."

Zoe thought for a second before pulling a pen out of the cup on the counter. "Do you have a piece of paper? I just want to pass her a message." After a moment of searching the secretary produced a slip of paper and passed it to her. She scrawled down the phrase "even if you did do something to him he would still be a dead fish in bed" before folding it in half and passing it back to her. "Just make sure this gets to her."

The secretary turned the paper over in her hands before standing and disappearing into the small office behind her, leaving Zoe alone. She ran the image of a woman through her head: Mid-thirties, average height, olive skin, wavy hair, and brown eyes so light they bordered on amber. A light sweater worn over a thin blouse, and a lab coat on top of that, a short tube skirt, pantyhose, and sneakers. Eventually the door beside the reception area opened, and the woman who stepped out fit the description better than the image Zoe had in her head.

"It would seem," she said calmly, holding up the folded piece of paper, "that you know a bit about me."

It wasn't until she gave Zoe a curious look that Zoe realized she was staring. Shaking herself out of it she asked, "Doctor Vahlen?"

"Yes."

"Doctor -Valerie- Vahlen?"

"The same."

"I know you."

"Clearly," she replied, gesturing with the paper.

"I mean, you're important."

"Thank you. My work isn't exactly acceptable in the mainstream, but-"

"No, no, I mean... I -created- you."

Vahlen gave her a curious look. "You mean to say that you created a fictional character based upon me, yes?"

"No, I'm saying that you -are- a fictional character to me."

"I'm sorry, but you're not making any sense. You seem a bit confused, and perhaps you do need a doctor, but I'm not certain my field is the one you-"

"You're thirty-six," Zoe said quickly, "born on February 14th. Your mother was Moroccan and your father was German. You have degrees in biochemistry and medicine." She took a deep breath, calming herself before speaking more slowly. "You're bisexual, and your longest relationship was with a man for nine months who left you because he thought you'd start experimenting on him." She gestured to the note in Vahlen's hand, and she folded it up, holding it in her palm. "You used to wear glasses up until five years ago when you got laser eye surgery. When you were eight you watched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and fell in love with the scene with Violet to the point where everything you ate had to have blueberries in it, and you grew so sick of them that you can't stand the taste to this day." Vahlen briefly averted her eyes. "Your research proved that a human being could honest-to-god inflate and when you showed it to other doctors they said it defied all known laws of physics, and you told them that you'd discover new laws of physics and get Nobel Prizes in two fields. You lost your job after that and started working for yourself, getting funding from private organizations." Zoe looked at her pleadingly. "You know there's no other way I could know all this. I know you know."

Vahlen was clearly taken aback by what Zoe had said, and thought for a few seconds before speaking. "It could be that you're a very motivated stalker, one so dedicated that she knows things that only I know and never told anyone about. But I would be a fool if I didn't exhaust all possibilities beforehand. Perhaps you should explain what lead you to this point."

"Do you believe me?"

"At this juncture I don't disbelieve you. 'Remove the impossible, and whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.'" She gestured to the door. "As absurd as some may find my research, I am still a scientist. Follow me."

 

*****

 

"...and that's what happened," Zoe concluded.

"I see," Vahlen said, scrolling through the pictures on Zoe's phone. They had since moved to Vahlen's office, a modern affair with several shelves packed with books. "It seems quite far-fetched, though you did provide some photographic evidence." She passed the phone back. "You're quite cavalier about providing others with explicit photos of yourself, you know."

"It was the only thing I had on me. I was worried about unplugging the flash drive."

"You said it was like writing or editing a story. Are you a writer?"

"Kind of. I do write sometimes."

"What do you write?"

"Short stories."

"...about...?"

Zoe gave a noncommittal shrug, looking away. "...certain interests."

"You mean sexual int-"

"Sexual interests, yes," she replied, blushing.

"If I featured in some of your stories I can imagine what that would entail," Vahlen said, "to say nothing of what you just showed me." She fell silent for a long moment, and just as Zoe started to worry she spoke again. "You said the file let you change things, and that the changes were noticed by other people."

"I think it does, yeah, but I'm not really sure. Things look different around here, but I'm not sure how, and I think I'm the only one who notices it. It's like it was a reproduction made by someone who wasn't sure what the original looked like."

"Have you read Heinlein's 'The Number of the Beast?'"

"Heinlein? No."

"The book was a crossover between the fictional universes he created, as well as several others by other authors. It introduced the 'World as Myth' concept, which supposes that all fictional universes are real and accessible to one another assuming interdimensional travel. Authorship creates the universes, and in turn, authors could be characters in another's fiction. Do you understand so far?"

Zoe nodded.

"This universe has always existed from my perspective, as did yours from your own, but it's possible that an author called both of them into being by writing a story about them. Tell me, where do the stories that you wrote about me take place?"

"I just sort of set them in a fictional version of this area."

"You know it well enough to know what's different?"

"Not... really, no. I just know something changed."

Vahlen nodded slowly. "So the reason the world looked to you like it was made by someone who couldn't remember it clearly was because it -was-. That someone was you."

She opened her mouth, moving it wordlessly. "I don't understand."

"Zoe, that file you found. It doesn't let you change the world, it lets you travel through worlds. You wrote yourself into your own story."

The color slowly drained from Zoe's face as her legs gave out beneath her, and she dropped into a chair, holding her stomach. "...I'm gonna be sick."

Vahlen knelt down, gently resting her hand on Zoe's shoulder. "Zoe, this is only a theory-"

"Doc, you're a genius. You wouldn't have said it if you didn't think it was possible." She lowered her head. "I just called my parents and they're not even my parents, just some alternate dimension version of them? I just -shoved myself- into another world and I didn't even realize it until it was too late."

"They're still your family, and regardless of what they are to you, you've always been the same to them. Everything you care about is still here. If what you say is true, then I'm less real than any of them, and yet here we are." She placed two fingers beneath Zoe's chin, tilting it up to meet her eyes. "Nothing is gained without risk and hardship. Knowing what you've gained, would you say that it's worth it?"

Zoe thought for a long while before speaking. "I want to say that it was, but at the same time, knowing things are so unreal..."

"I understand." She stood. "If you wrote yourself into your own story, you can probably return from whence you came. But you say that the things you did and my research aren't possible?"

"No, it's just pure fantasy."

"Odd." Vahlen slowly walked towards the door. "There are other matters I need to check in on. Take all the time you need to recover. There's ginger ale in the break room should you require it."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Vahlen opened the door and went to step through, but stopped midway, lost in thought. "Are you employed, by any chance?"

"I'm sort of between jobs. Why?"

"This is probably quite forward of me, but I have an... academic interest in you and your talents. Should you choose to remain, that is."

"You don't want to experiment on me, do you?"

"I only work with volunteers, so it would entirely be your decision. Though I also require someone who can do light clerical work."

"I'll consider it."

"Take your time," Vahlen replied. "You have a lot to think about."

 

*****

 

Zoe was a familiar person in a strange world of her own creation, brought there by a force that she, too late, fully understood. It took a lot of soul-searching, but in the end she chose to remain in the world that she inadvertently created for herself. Her family and friends, regardless of her origin, still treated her as one of their own, and Zoe herself could see no difference in them. Further, she could explore her interests in a way she could - and did - only dream of.

Ultimately, Zoe went to work for Doctor Vahlen, volunteering some days and working hourly others, with enough time off to spend on more leisurely pursuits. It was idyllic, but not perfect, but then, what is life without drama?

Zoe laughed. "Well put, text file. Well put." Taking the mouse, she made a few clicks. "File, Save..." Moving it across the screen, she clicked on the X in the corner. "...and we're done."

Chapter 9

Getting used to a new neighborhood is always a task. Getting used to an old neighborhood you once knew that's different because you ended up in an imperfect copy because you couldn't remember it clearly when you made it is as well, less so in terms of geography and more in an existential sense that makes you question yourself and, by extension, the world you inhabit. Finding out that she wrote herself into a parallel world of her own design struck Zoe hard though, in time, she grew accustomed to it, aided in part by one Doctor Valerie Vahlen.

Doctor Vahlen was an individual Zoe formerly thought fictitious, along with most everything else, and was possibly even more intelligent than Zoe had made her. Broadly, she specialized in chemistry and medicine; more specifically, her field was more esoteric and, not by coincidence, in line with Zoe's casual interests. This, combined with Zoe's passing familiarity with her confidential research, made Zoe a natural choice for a part-time assistant at her lab, and the two quickly formed a close friendship.

During one of her off days, Zoe relaxed around her home wearing a T-shirt and shorts, beneath which was a full black latex suit which covered everything below her neck and left only her hands and feet bare. It was slick, tight, and alive in some sense of the word. It had, on numerous occasions, moved and changed on its own and at her request, and regarding certain interactions, proved quite dexterous.

Zoe, in her boredom, was contemplating one such interaction, leaning back in her computer chair. "I don't know if you understand mood or communicate through pheromones or what, but what you did after I ate like, fifty pounds of food was really good, and I'd like more of that in the future." Quickly, she added, "but not constantly! Not like, non-stop, I mean..." She sighed, cupping her chin. "What am I trying to say...?"

After a few seconds of thought she spoke again. "How about this? If I say you can do whatever, as long as it doesn't get me killed or hurt or freak out a bunch of people or anything, you can do what you want. But on one condition: If I say..." She thought for a second, muttering, "Hang on, it has to be a good one..." Brightening, she snapped her fingers. "Applesauce, that's it. If I say 'applesauce,' you have to stop. If I think we're in trouble or you're going to far, and I say that, stop whatever you're doing. Until then, if I give you the green light, go until I say stop. 'Applesauce,' remember. You got that?"

The latex flowed up her hand, forming a partial glove that covered her index finger and thumb. She turned her hand over, inspecting it before making the "A-OK" hand gesture to herself, and the substance retracted again.

"Okay, good." Zoe was continuously impressed with how much it could communicate despite not having a mouth or limbs. She stood, making a sweeping gesture with her arms. "So, um... I'm not really busy, so you can do what you want with me, okay? Just as a trial run."

There was a pregnant pause as she stood there in silence, wondering if it really didn't want to do anything. Just as she was about to sit back down, however, she felt a faint plucking across the skin beneath her clothes, and an invisible finger traced a line beneath her waistband and the hem of her shirt. She unbuttoned her shorts before wiggling her hips, loosening them and letting them drop to the floor as she pulled off her shirt. "Hope you're not getting jealous of the rest of my wardrobe," she said, draping it over the back of her chair. "As good as we both think you look, we can't exactly go out in public like this."

There was a pressure against her shoulder like a hand guiding her, and she slowly turned, sweeping one finger across the room until it fell upon the bed. A second hand touched her other shoulder, and both slid down to her back, easing her forward. She set her glasses down and climbed onto the bed, crawling across it before flipping over onto her back. "I think I know where this is going." The latex oozed up, engulfing her neck before continuing on, and an expression of slight concern appeared on her face as it crept up the sides of her head. "Okay, I -don't- know where this is going." She closed her eyes as it encroached on them, covering them and blotting out the light. Elsewhere the material rolled across her hands and feet, engulfing her digits, and within seconds all she felt on her body was the cool, slick touch of latex.

Zoe lay there, wondering what her suit had in store next. She didn't have long to wonder, as she felt the gentle touch of fingers brushing against her midriff, smiling as a finger traced itself in a circle around her navel. Sliding into it, it sank in, then pushed in painlessly before a set of lips pressed against it and the touch of cool air seemed to pass through the suit. A second later Zoe felt something akin to pushing out her belly, but not in her control, her muscles relaxed instead of flexing. Her stomach felt like the time she ate Mentos with Coke, only not fizzy or gassy. She raised her hands to check what was happening only for fingers to encircle her wrists, holding them fast in place. She relaxed her arms and the fingers disappeared, re-appearing pressed against her belly, rubbing and touching it on either side.

The suit made deliberate, quiet creaks and squeaks as it shifted across her midsection, the hands seemingly growing smaller over time as a noticeable pressure formed in her abdomen. "Are you...?" A lone finger pressed into her above the lips, and something unmistakably shifted as she felt it sink in with little resistance. "Oh my god," she mumbled, "you -are-. -I- am." She let out a quiet laugh of disbelief.

She tilted her head back as the suit massaged her and her belly swelled, her imagination filling in what she could only feel. She didn't know how large she was getting, and both she and the suit knew that was the point. Perhaps later she could find a helium tank and take to the air, carried along by the wind. Perhaps later she could find out what her limits were, towering over people, buildings, cities. Perhaps, perhaps.

But for now, she was content.

Chapter 10

College students, very early on in their scholastic lives, learned what took a Zoe a while to catch on to: Good food for cheap is always a better alternative to great food that's expensive. This was speaking purely in terms of money and not nutritive value, of course, and keeping to things like an instant ramen-based diet caused numerous health problems in the long run. None of them seemed to affect Zoe, suddenly blessed as she was by a digestive system that may as well have been a dumpster. Her occasional binges had no permanent impact on her weight, and regardless of what she ate the sheer amount and variety of food must have provided the daily allotment of vitamins necessary to sustain her.

The food in question on this date was a simple hamburger, fries, and a shake, all for six dollars. The restaurant viewed it as a basic promotion and, to their error, did not limit it to one per customer. Zoe knew an opportunity when she saw one and, to her error, wore one of her tighter blouses that day when she decided to eat a large family's worth of food at one sitting. But cheap food was cheap food, so she decided to make the best of it.

Zoe devoured the burgers one by one, finishing them off with a bit of milkshake and some fries, trying to pace herself so it wouldn't seem so obvious that food was basically disappearing down her throat. Bit by bit, she felt her stomach press against the fabric of her clothes. Her blouse was pulled smooth, then taut, buttons straining in their holes. It was the small changes and little details that caught her attention, and as she raised her glass, she spied in the reflection of a picture that they had caught the attention of someone else.

He was a sandy-haired blond, round-faced, a little thin but by no means unhealthy. He struck Zoe as the kind of person who would blow themselves up to a ridiculous size to impress someone, but that may have just been wishful thinking on her part. As it stood he had some interest in things getting larger, as he was trying to stare at her belly without looking the part. She contemplated what to do, drawing a blank until she realized that this was basically the sort of thing she wrote about, at which point the difficulty came from paring down her options to what was at least socially acceptable and wouldn't embarrass either of them too badly in public.

Picking up the tall milkshake glass, Zoe watched his reflection until she was sure his eyes were on her then, looking over, she locked eyes with him as she began to drain her glass. She deliberately pushed her gut out as she chugged, the added mass pushing her blouse over the edge and causing the buttons to slide free, one by one. By the time she set the empty glass down her swollen paunch was entirely exposed, sticking out over her beltline. Leaning back, she slowly ran one hand over its surface, feeling its soft give as she gave him a sly smile.

For his part young man looked as if he had been caught in a trap, and Zoe suppressed a grin as he averted his eyes, blushing. When he turned back she beckoned him over with a finger before pointing to the chair next to her. He hesitated, scanning the room before standing up and sliding into the seat. Zoe said nothing and merely smiled at him, slowly eating the last of her burgers.

After she finished it off she picked up a napkin, cleaning her fingers. "So," she began, "something got your attention."

"Yeah, it's... kind of hard to miss."

"What is?"

He smiled shyly. "You know."

Zoe leaned back in her seat and put her arms up on the backrest, blouse parted like a curtain around her stuffed stomach. "No, I really don't. Do you have a thing for girls in glasses?"

"-Do- you know? You have to."

She shrugged. "Oh, I do. I just want to hear you say it."

He blushed again - the way the color spread across his cheeks was handsome - and he lowered his eyes as he mentally formulated a response. Several seconds later he quietly said, "you ate enough food for four people. Before you came in here you looked normal, but now you have this big belly."

"Do I?" She asked innocently. "I hadn't noticed." She put her hand on either side of it, giving it a little shake. "Would this count as big?"

"Compared to- regular people." There was the slightest bit of hesitation as he spoke; Zoe was entirely sure his first choice of words was "normal."

"Do you have something for girls who eat a lot?"

"I might."

"So you -might-..." She reached out with one hand, entwining her fingers with his. His hands were warm. "...be interested..." Guiding it over, she pressed his hand against her belly. "...in this?"

He froze, looking like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar. Zoe gave him a reassuring smile, flexing his fingers and giving the food-stuffed bulge a gentle squeeze before patting his hand and pulling hers away. She gave him a sidelong look before picking up a deliberately large handful of fries and returning to her meal of meals.

Despite his shock and hesitation he caught on quick, for as she ate he gently pressed his fingers into her, rubbing and caressing her belly as he felt it slowly grow. Zoe moaned into her food as he gently kneaded her flesh, glancing over every so often to meet his eyes. As the fries and the last burger disappeared her stomach spilled over her waistband, starting to fill her lap; as it did he moved his hand beneath it, lifting it up before letting it fall, slipping across his fingers. As she finally moved on to the last of her milkshakes she drank them both, one after the other without pause, and he simply rested his hand against her as she filled herself with the thick beverage, growing an inch in all directions.

Zoe put the glass down, pausing to catch her breath. "That was good." Then, patting his hand, she asked. "Did you enjoy it?"

"It was amazing. Do you do this often?"

"Often enough."

"Because..." He paused, working up the courage to finish the thought. "I know a place not far from here if you wanted to, you know." He gave a light shrug. "Get a bite to eat."

Zoe smiled. "I'd like that. Thank you."

Chapter 11

Out of all the sketchy medical labs she had seen, the one Reverie found herself in was probably one of the nicest.

The long-haired brunette pulled a sticky note out of the pocket of her dark brown hoodie, reading the time off it and double-checking the clock in the lobby. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and approached the receptionist, a pixie-haired young woman trying to look professional and being mostly successful at it. "Excuse me, I'm here for an appointment."

"Doctor Vahlen, right? Do you have all your paperwork?" Rev offered her a stack of papers and she sifted through them for a few seconds before setting them on the desk beside her. "Okay, looks like it's all here." She hooked an arm around, pointing to the door beside the window. "Just go in there and follow the hallway to Room 112. Doctor Vahlen will be right with you."

Rev nodded, following her instructions and the well-maintained corridor to a high, square, tiled room that smelled faintly of cleaning solution. Standing beside the door as she entered was an olive-skinned, wavy-haired woman nearing middle age wearing a lab coat. "Good, right on time. Your bloodwork came back, and I can safely say that we can proceed with the trials. You signed the waivers, correct?"

"Yes. It's not dangerous, is it?"

"A bit, though in a controlled laboratory environment there's practically no risk, and we've figured out the most efficient way to juice subjects."

The word "juice" stuck out to Reverie, and as much as she wanted to assume, she chose to write it off as some sort of doctor slang.

"Their clothes were stained quite badly, however. I hope you're not attached to what you're wearing."

So much for that, Rev thought. "What do you mean when you say 'juice?'"

"Well," Vahlen began. "Among other projects I'm pursuing avenues of biochemistry which can, to wit, turn people into giant blueberries."

Rev blinked. "Seriously?"

"Yes." Before she could respond Vahlen added, "like in the movies."

"Is this a sexual thing?"

"It is completely a sexual thing." Her serious expression didn't change in the slightest. "Nobody believed us when we claimed it wasn't so after a while we stopped. Though frankly, a good amount of scientific and medical avenues are. Do you know how many podiatrists have a foot fetish?"

"No."

"All of them. Every single one. In 2011 they tried unsuccessfully to add stepping barefoot on their faces to medical checkup criteria." Reaching to her side, she produced a clear container holding a two-tone cream-and-white sphere the size of a golf ball. "Enough about that, there's work to be done."

"What's that?"

"It's the pill you need to take." She took the cover in her other hand, giving it a twist, and as she lifted it and looked inside her brow furrowed. "Hold on a moment. Where did it go?"

Rev swallowed loudly before going cross-eyed, thumping one fist against her chest. "Bleh."

"That was a suppository."

"...oh. So how quickly does it work?"

As if on cue her stomach gurgled, and Rev hands flew to it as it began to churn. She barely suppressed an eager smile as she felt it swell, and she pulled up her hoodie to reveal a growing pot belly, the area around her navel a deep blue and quickly spreading. Though covered by her clothing, she could easily track its progress by the sudden weight on her frame; her breasts and butt swelled, followed by her arms and legs. She looked down at her nose, watching the tip turn blue as her transformation began in earnest, growing thicker as her clothes grew looser.

...looser?

She looked at Vahlen, and where she was eye-to-eye, now it was eye-to-chin and slowly approaching eye-to-shoulder. Despite her midsection taking on a pronounced pear shape, her diminishing scale meant that her hoodie still covered her. Her shoes, meanwhile, were beginning to feel loose, and while her hips were getting wider she was getting smaller, causing her jeans to slide down her frame. Gripping them by the beltline with one hand, she looked at the doctor. "What's happening to me?"

"An unforeseen reaction," Vahlen replied. "Obviously we haven't perfected it."

Rev bent her arm around her growing sides to keep hold of her jeans. She took a step back, her body jiggling and sloshing as she stepped out of her shoes, floppy socks dragging along the ground. Her growing thighs began to push her legs apart as her midsection grew too round to reach around, forcing her arms to the sides. The grip on her jeans lost, they slid to the ground around her ankles. Rev's cheeks darkened to a deeper shade of blue as she felt herself become exposed; luckily for her she was still shrinking, and the lower hem of her hoodie soon descended far enough that it covered her up.

"You're the first person to test the new formula and the first to show a reaction. It's really quite promising."

Her limbs swelled up into thick cones as her body starfished, now shorter than Vahlen's waist. Reverie could hear a quiet bubbling and glorping inside of her as she both grew and shrank, the juice inside of her mounting, her features slowly pulled flat against her surface as the weight pulled her body into a teardrop shape. She flapped her hands helplessly as her line of sight grew lower, Vahlen towering over her as she watched with detached interest, until finally she disappeared into her own clothes.

After a few seconds of watching the pile of clothing in front of her shift, the doctor reached into the pocket of her lab coat, removing an earpiece and thin microphone and putting them into place before pressing a button on the side. "Research journal of Doctor Valerie Vahlen, test of formula code name 'BB,' seventh revision." She knelt down, pulling the hoodie away and revealing Reverie, her expression a mix of fear and arousal. Were it not for the tiny, flapping hands and feet and head, one could have mistaken her for a water balloon.

Vahlen removed a set of calipers from her pocket, taking a few measurements. "Subject is twenty-six centimeters in height, slightly more in width due to deformation." Putting them away, she removed a color swatch, holding it against Reverie's skin. "Skin tone is well within the acceptable hue range, good." Pocketing the swatch, she pulled out a set of latex gloves, sliding them on. "Reverie. Can you understand what I am saying?"

"What happened to me?" Rev asked. "Why am I so small?" She balled up her tiny fists. "I'm supposed to be big and full!"

"Subject is conscious and alert, and aware of their own body." She reached out, scooping her up with both hands and lifting her up as she stood. Pressing her fingers into Reverie, she traced small circles in her lower hemisphere, causing the berry girl to breathe more heavily, her eyes fluttering as juice began dribbling down her breasts. "Skin is thick but pliable, easily deformed by outside force or shifting contents. Sensitive and receptive to touch. Subject is emitting a thick, dark purple juice from the nipples and vaginal region." Giving her a gentle squeeze, she was rewarded with a low moan as the flow intensified. "Sexual stimulation increases the rate of emissions."

"Juice me," Rev panted. "Please."

"In a bit. Formula is successful, but subject is a large blueberry by -blueberry- standards. More investigation and research is required." She turned, heading for the door. "Come now, and try not to drip too much on the floor."

Chapter 12

The atmosphere was like a carnival, with colorful costumes, shops selling a variety of wares, and music from all directions, fading from one song to the other as Zoe passed by the booths lining the halls and littering the outdoor grounds of the convention center. It was paean to the art and culture of a foreign land spanning decades and transcending genres and generations.

All of this was, of course, simply a fancy way of saying it was an anime convention.

In contrast to many of the attendees Zoe was overtly dressed plainly, wearing jeans and a short-sleeved blouse. Just beneath that, covering her legs and torso and concealed by her clothes, was a black latex bodysuit. She didn't have it for long in the grand scheme of things, but she had grown very accustomed to wearing it, considering it as much part of her outfit as it was a companion, not least because it did possess some degree of strange intelligence and sapience. Besides, if anyone saw it, they'd probably just assume she was dressed as a character from some show or another.

Heading down a side corridor, Zoe stopped by a water fountain, pausing to take a drink. As she stood back up someone walked past behind her carrying a large, person-sized pillow. She followed him out of the corner of her eye she spied the figure on the pillow, a long-haired, bespectacled, smug-looking brunette in form-fitting pink, cream, and violet uniform. It was someone from a remake of a show she had already watched, and her only thoughts on recognizing her were a dismayed "oh, her."

Suddenly she felt her outfit began to ooze and slide over her shoulders, and she quickly ducked into a miraculously-unoccupied bathroom for privacy. It crept down her arms, engulfing her hands before fading to a light pink, and as she checked herself in the mirror she noticed that it had reached up to her throat, stopping and forming a thin blue collar. She undid the top few buttons of her blouse, pulling them aside to reveal a light pink torso and cream shoulders, leading down her forearms. Across the top of her breastplate was "05" in narrow black digits.

"Great," she said to herself. "My intelligent clothing has shit taste in waifus."

Zoe's eyes went wide as the toilet flushed and the stall door opened behind her, and she spun to see another young woman about her age step out. She was about her height, more on top, less on bottom, green eyes beneath vivid red bangs focused more on the faucet than her. As she stopped beside her, Zoe, realizing she was exposed, clutched her shirt shut with one hand.

"It's okay if you're nervous," she said, washing her hands. "It takes some getting used to, being in front of people, especially if it's something that leaves you exposed like that." Giving Zoe a reassuring smile, she added, "I mean, if you haven't done it before?"

Zoe wasn't sure how to respond but hoped that playing dumb about being seen in public wearing fetish gear would work. "What?"

She turned off the faucet. "Your clothes."

"My clothes?"

"Yes. You're cosplaying as Mari, aren't you?"

It took a second to register, after which Zoe let out a forced, nervous laugh. "Yes! Yes, I am, aren't I? Cosplaying, that is."

"I was going to say. May I have a look?"

"Um..." She slowly unclenched her hand, letting her blouse fall open. "...sure?"

The young woman leaned in, a bit too closely for Zoe's taste. "Wow. Whoever made this did a good job." She pulled away, looking back at her. "Who made this?"

"Uh." I can't tell her I found it as a blob in my closet, she thought. It has to be convincing. "...some guy."

"I'm sorry if I'm getting to personal-"

"No, it's not that, it's just that I wasn't expecting to-" She waved her hands. "Okay, listen, Miss uh..."

"Dana," she replied. "Dana MacMallan."

"Right, Dana. I wasn't really planning on being in costume today."

She furrowed her brow, slowly pointing to Zoe's outfit. "But you're wearing-"

"I know, just..." She took a few steps back. "...promise not to freak out." Cupping her hands in front of her she said, "come on, off."

There was a second of what Zoe interpreted as hesitation before she felt the latex running along her body, the colors smearing together before fading to black. Dana gasped as the latex pooled in Zoe's hands, rising up in a teardrop shape as her "costume" peeled away from her chest like paint running down her in reverse before disappearing from her hands, joining the blob in her grasp.

"So this thing-" She gestured with the mass of semi-solid latex as Dana eyed it with curiosity. "-saw some art of a character and decided to try and copy it. Wasn't my idea."

"So it's smart?"

"It's smart enough to be sassy, in its own way."

"Oh." A few seconds of thought later she asked, "if I show it a picture, can it turn into a costume?"

"Probably. Why?"

"Well... I want to try it on."

"You want to walk around in a skin-tight latex outfit dressed like an anime character?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Dana replied. "I have an Asuka plugsuit but I had to stop wearing it since it stopped fitting me."

"Does latex shrink or stretch over time?"

"Oh, no, I just had a second growth spurt and all my weight went to my boobs and butt."

"Really," Zoe said flatly. The word "humblebrag" rose to the forefront of her mind. "Well, why not? You probably need to, uh, strip first."

Dana nodded before ducking back into the stall, leaving Zoe standing there holding a black blob with her blouse half-open. Minutes passed, and as she wondered how exactly to explain this to anyone else and how fast she could hide, the stall door cracked open and Dana held one hand out, gesturing. She deposited the latex in her hand and her arm retracted, and Zoe took the opportunity to re-button her clothes.

"So how do I put it on?" A second later there was a quiet yelp.

"You okay in there?"

"Yeah, it just jumped at me. Oh wow. Oh wow, this is amazing! It's like it's painting itself on me."

"Yeah, it does that."

"So you basically walk around covered with intelligent liquid latex under your clothes?"

"I'm not some sort of sexual deviant," Zoe violently lied, "if that's what you're implying."

"I wasn't saying anything. So I just show it a picture of what I want? Because I have an art book I picked up of a show in my bag..."

"That should work." She rapped on the door. "Hey, uh... try to play nice with her if you could? Please?"

"Make it so I look like her." A few seconds later Dana let out a quiet note of surprise, and a moment after that she stepped out of the stall, looking a bit amazed at her new clothes. The suit covered everything below her neck, primarily purple with pink along her collar, arms, and legs, and white highlights and thick white soles. It wasn't perfectly smooth, either, as there were thick bands around her wrists and the shoulders were a bit more padded. She did a turn on her heel before posing. "So how does it look?"

Zoe opened her mouth to reply before closing it again. "I don't know who that is," She said, "but it looks just like them."

 

*****

 

Dana was remarkably outgoing in costume, smiling and posing for photographers and graciously accepting compliments on the workmanship. That she knew full well what she was wearing and didn't show a hint of nervousness simply made it all the more impressive.

Zoe followed alongside her outside, holding her loot bag with one hand and reading the art book in the other. "So this still has that spaceship that turns into a giant robot. Huh."

"Yup," Dana replied, pausing for another photograph.

"Is the rock band that flies fighter jets still around?"

"No, the series takes place a couple years after that one, but they're still referenced."

"Oh." She turned the page, seeing a picture of the character Dana was cosplaying as standing next to someone who looked very much like them, albeit significantly shorter and younger." Turning to her, she inclined her head towards the page. "Who is this? Are they sisters?"

"No, they're the same person. It's just that she's normally bigger, but she has a human boyfriend, so she has to be shrunk down to be with him."

"Well, she looks normal to me. How tall is she?"

"Her race is about..." Dana paused to think. "...twenty-five to thirty feet tall." A second later she let out a quiet "oh!"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know." She touched her midsection with one hand. "It just felt sort of like the suit went into my belly button." Her eyes fluttered. "Oh, that's -nice-."

Zoe leaned in and lowered her voice. "Is it sort of a puffy, airy feeling?"

"Yes."

"Like you're being filled with air?"

"Ye-" She her words short with a coo as there was a quiet, sudden hiss of air, and she slightly yet very distinctly grew taller, standing an inch or two above Zoe. "What's happening?"

"You're being filled with air."

Dana stared at her, dumbfounded, before a hiss sounded out and she shot up another three inches. "I'm inflating!" She immediately fell silent and blushed, her face registering a particular expression of guilt that Zoe knew crossed her features more than once. "Am I- I mean, is it going to-"

"It wouldn't do anything to hurt you." Another hiss, and Dana was a full head taller than her. "When you told it to make you look like that character, it might have thought you meant height as well. So this is either an honest mistake or it thinks it's cute by abusing loopholes." Another hiss, and Zoe blinked as Dana's breasts abruptly entered her line of sight, perfectly outlined in purple and white latex. Not that she was paying attention to them, but they definitely looked larger. She took a step back, looking up at her; she wasn't the only person doing so. "But you -can- stop this, no problem."

Dana looked around. She was clearly the center of attention; a few people were fearful, many were surprised and shocked, and yet others were awed and interested by it. In such a short time she was already - how tall? Eight feet? Nine? Then to be told that she would keep growing until she was the same size of the character she was dressed as, pumped up with air by a living suit...

A hiss of air and Dana shot up another foot, Zoe standing head-to-waist with her, the growth punctuating Dana's next statement. "What if I don't want to?"

With that she turned and confidently strode away, heading into the crowd that had gathered near the strange growing young woman. The people parted around her, staring, until one raised his camera. Dana turned towards him, smiling and posing. A hiss sounded out, and she grew again; unconcerned, she merely took a step back, the crowd behind her quickly moving out of the way as she re-entered the cameraman's frame.

Zoe looked on, torn between wanting to step in to try and stop it and not wanting to draw attention to herself. As she watched Dana grow taller in steady bursts, she also watched her grow wider, her hips and breasts filling out. One fit of growth had her shoot up with particular haste, causing her to bounce and jiggle, drawing her attention to her chest. She cupped her breasts, grinning as she gave them a squeeze. "Wow, this is nice." Then, to the people around her, she added, "I think I know what has your attention."

Their attention remained on her as she towered over the crowd more and more, their heads coming up to her waist, then her thighs, then, after a final loud hiss, ending just below her knees. Dana was positively endowed, with a wide chest that bobbed and swayed with every move she made, thick thighs and a full, round ass. She looked down, not wanting to accidentally step on anyone, only to find her view blocked by her assets. Waving behind her for the people to part, she stepped backwards, taking a seat on the edge of the two-story building behind her. As the cameras flashed, she smiled, continuing to pose for them. "I could get used to this..."

A few minutes later Dana heard a door slam, and turned her head to see Zoe step out onto the roof carrying her belongings. "'What if I don't want to?'" She repeated. "Is it just something about growing really tall that gives everyone megalomania?"

"Come on. You're not upset," Dana asked, "are you?"

A second later she pointed up at her and replied, "yes, but only because I didn't do it first."

Chapter 13

It was a terrible movie.

The premise was poor, the design doubly so, and Zoe still couldn't tell if the actors were bad or just delivering awful lines as part of equally bad career decisions. It was another in a long line of cinematic mistakes by the same company, and to top it all off, she actually paid money for it. This would normally be a mistake, but she knew full well that it was going to be bad going into it, holding to the belief that bad movies need to be seen in a theater to get the full experience.

By the time she left the mall the sun was starting to descend below the horizon. As she headed for her car she spotted a short, short-haired, slightly-built young woman standing nervously beside the bus stop. Filled with equal parts curiosity and concern, she approached her. "Excuse me, are you okay?"

She looked at Zoe; Zoe wasn't sure if she was relieved or scared that someone was talking to her. "Yes, yes, I'm... no. I need to get home but I just missed the bus."

Zoe glanced up at the sign. "Well, uh..."

"Jeanne."

"Well Jeanne, there's another one coming in half an hour, you should be-"

"No, you don't understand. I really need to get home before sundown."

"Why? Do you have a curfew?" She looked her over. "How old are you, anyway?"

If Jeanne heard her she didn't reply, instead staring at the sun as it sank out of view. She paled, and there was a sudden green tinge to her cheeks. "I..." She glanced about frantically before focusing on a high wall and sprinting off. "I have to go!"

Zoe went to reply before simply closing her mouth and running after her, trying to catch up but only managing to keep pace. As she did, she noticed a rapid change as her skin and hair first faded to a bright green, then gained a plastic-like sheen. Her hair merged and smoothed into a series of rubbery, pointed locks, and Zoe could almost swear that thin seams were forming along the sides of her arms and legs.

As she ducked behind the wall she discovered that it was a dead end, and she stopped and froze, looking caught both metaphorically and literally. Jeanne turned, staring fearfully at Zoe; the hem of her shirt had gotten caught on an air valve protruding from her navel which, combined with the rest of her transformation, made her look for all the world like a living pool toy.

"Don't come any closer!" Jeanne shouted.

Zoe held up her hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just..." She furrowed her brow, looking her over. "...are you some sort of... were-pool toy?"

After a moment of silence Jeanne visibly relaxed, though still looking a bit nervous. "Kind of. At night I turn into..." She gestured to herself before fixing her shirt. "...this. I thought I had time to get home, but..."

She blinked. "Oh."

"'Oh?'"

"Well, I mean, you're not dangerous, are you? Because you don't look like it."

"No, but..." She folded her arms across her chest and looked away, trying to make herself look smaller. "Having people see me like this is..."

"Oh, I see. So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. But I can't- I can't be out like this."

Zoe thought for a moment before speaking again. "I think I can help."

"How?"

"Well," she began, unbuttoning her blouse. "I have..." She pulled it open, and Jeanne recoiled at the sight of a forest green latex bodysuit.

"You go out wearing -that?-"

"Yeah."

Jeanne gave her a look. "You're weird."

"Well, this 'weirdo' is going to help you out." She tapped her collar bone before gesturing along her other hand. "It's like this: If you see one person out of the ordinary, you think it's strange. They're alone, they're singling themselves out. But two people?" She held up two fingers as the latex oozed up her arm, covering her hand. "Two people implies a plan. People are going to see it and assume that there's something bigger going on. It might look odd, but as long as two people act like they belong everyone else is going to think it's business as usual." She knotted her blouse closed beneath her breasts, making it painfully obvious that everything below her neck was coated in latex.

"This really isn't necessary, you don't have to embarrass yourself for me, I can, I-"

"What's your plan?"

"I..." Her expression fell. "I was just going to... hide."

"Well, I'm going to get you out of here, and nobody is going to be the wiser. Now let's go," she said, turning. "I parked over..." She trailed off awkwardly. "I didn't park on this side."

"What?"

"I parked..." She gestured behind her with her thumb. "...on that side. We're going to have to walk through the mall."

"What?!"

"It's either that or go around it the long way."

"You really don't need to do this for me," Jeanne said.

Zoe turned and looked at her for a second. "If you're scared, I get that, but if you want I can just leave you alone. I am kind of pushing myself on you, here."

"I..." Her expression grew more resolute, and she took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's go."

 

*****

 

Peeking through the door, Zoe scanned the inside of the mall as Jeanne stood to the side, out of sight. After a minute or so of waiting she pulled the door open, gesturing for Jeanne to step inside. They entered and headed down the empty side corridor, but after a few yards Zoe glanced behind her, noticing that Jeanne was lagging behind. Heading back, she she took her by the hand. It felt strangely light and empty, like pressing down any harder on it would cause it to give as the air inside shifted away. "Come on, walk beside me." As she fell into line Zoe added, "just look straight ahead and act like you belong."

They stepped out into the open, trying to act like being shiny and green out in public was a natural thing. It seemed to be working; out of the corner of her eye Zoe caught a few glances, but nobody really stopped to stare. She glanced down at Jeanne to see how she was doing, then did a double-take.

She was larger. Unmistakably larger. Her breasts filled her shirt, her belly stuck out in front of her, and both were growing larger as she watched. "Jeanne," she said, pointing, "are you doing that?"

"I'm trying not to!" she quietly replied.

Zoe hastened their pace as Jeanne swelled, her shirt gradually filling to straining as they crossed the mall floor. Her belly stuck out over the beltline of her shorts, gaining a weightless bob that grew more pronounced over time, her shorts themselves stuffed by widened hips and thighs. As they neared the door her growing sides pushed her arms up, and her thickening limbs reduced her to a wide, wobbling gait. Zoe pushed the door open, pulling Jeanne after her only for her to get wedged in the door frame.

Circling back into the mall through another door, Zoe pushed Jeanne, hands sinking into her back as she flailed. With a shove she slid out of the frame with a quiet squeak, teetering on her feet for a bit before being pulled along again. "New plan," Zoe said. "Run to the car."

 

*****

 

By the time they reached Zoe's car Jeanne was larger still, though not so large that she couldn't fit in the back with the seats folded down. They left, perhaps too quickly, and following Jeanne's instructions headed for her home.

During an empty stretch of road Zoe glanced behind her at Jeanne. She must have been calmer as she looked merely chubby as opposed to wedged in the rear. "Feeling better?"

"A little."

"That plan kind of sucked, didn't it."

"It was better than nothing." She shifted, moving herself into a sitting position. A car drove past in the opposite direction, headlights shining off her skin. "...and... you did try to help me and weren't scared, so... thank you."

"Well, I was, a little. I was trying to think of things to say if someone-"

"No, I mean scared of me."

"Oh. Believe it or not you're not the strangest thing I've seen."

"I guess you own a mirror."

Zoe let out a bark of laughter. "You must be feeling better."

She nodded. "Plus when you said you had a plan you didn't do something like drag me inside, blow me up with a helium tank, and float me home. So there's that."

"Does that happen often?"

Jeanned sighed. "More than you'd think."

Chapter 14

Dana had been to doctors a few times in her life, though always for check-ups and minor injuries. The thought of becoming a guinea pig - there was really no other way to put it - wasn't exactly high on her list. However, she had met someone who suggested that she might want to look into the tests of one doctor who was always looking for interested volunteers, and assured Dana that she would be perfectly fine. When pressed, she said that it was relevant to what happened at the convention; this filled her with confidence, enough so for her to arrange a visit a few days later.

She wasn't expecting to meet the person who suggested it behind the receptionist's desk, though. "Zoe?"

"Yeah! Hi!"

The redhead pointed to the pixie-haired young woman. "You work here?"

"Yeah, I sort of... wandered into it."

"Was it related to your outfit?" she asked, handing over a few papers.

"Tangentially." Zoe flipped through the papers before gesturing to the door beside her. "Head on through. Doctor Vahlen will be right with you."

 

*****

 

The doctor was a Mediterranean woman in her mid-late thirties wearing a lab coat and looking rather professional besides it. She directed Dana into a very ordinary-looking doctor's office and asked her to change out of her clothing and into the garments left on top of the examination table before disappearing into another part of the building. What she thought was a hospital gown turned out to be a simple, loose shirt and pants held up with a drawstring; it wasn't what she expected but she was glad it covered her backside, at least.

A few minutes later Doctor Vahlen returned, carrying a metal cylinder the size of a water bottle that tapered to a small nozzle. "Before we begin," she said, "you know you can call this off and leave, yes? You're not contractually obligated to remain."

"No, I... I want to be here."

"Are you nervous?"

"A little."

"Don't worry. The process is painless."

Dana nodded. It was reassuring to know, but her nervousness came not from fear but anticipation. She had been inflated at the convention, and it was unexpected but ultimately not unwanted, and the sensation of fullness and size had stuck with her. She wanted to feel it again, even if - and perhaps especially if - it was different.

The doctor held out the cylinder and Dana took it, turning it in her hand and scanning the label covered in scientific and organizational nomenclature. "All you need to do," Vahlen said, "is press and hold it against your navel or any available orifice."

She blushed. "What?"

"Press the nozzle against your navel or any-"

"No, I mean... when you say 'any available orifice' do you mean...?"

"Whatever you feel most comfortable with."

"That's not really what I meant," she mumbled, "but... here goes." She pulled the hem of her shirt up, turning the canister towards her before pressing it firmly against her navel. There was a quiet click followed by a sudden, sharp hissing, and Dana gasped as she felt the familiar, pleasant sensation of what she assumed was air flowing into her. Part of her wanted to pull it away in surprise, though the urge was overwhelmed by her desire to indulge herself again in what was a very unique experience. "Oh wow."

"How is it? Any discomfort?"

"No, not at all. It's strange, but it's very nice." Her vision went blurry and she squeezed her eyes shut, blinking them open again; unknown to her, her pale blue eyes had turned to red on black. "It's like..." She gestured with her free hand. "It's like I'm breathing in without breathing, and instead of my lungs it's filling my entire body."

"Any strange thoughts or mental processes? Difficulty concentrating?"

"No. Although now that you mention it, my forehead feel a little prickly." There was a quiet pair of squeaks as her bangs were pushed aside and two dark, glossy bulges pushed out from above her brow. With a steady series of hisses they grew in bursts, the ends tapering to a point as they curled back and up. Dana reached up with her free hand, grasping and squeezing one newfound horn, noting that for all the world it felt like a thick balloon. With the creak of elastic it immediately hardened in her fingers, and she trailed them down it before plucking at one of her locks of hair, noticing that it was in the process of fading from blonde to white. "I- are you seeing this?"

"Of course. It's also being recorded just in case."

"Did you know this would happen?" She stared at her hands as her skin faded to a deep red. Meanwhile the fullness across her body began to change, pressure rising in some parts and falling elsewhere.

"I was certain that -a- change would happen, and generally what it would entail, though the specifics are currently being investigated. I'm pleased that the changes that are happening are so complimentary, however."

Dana's breasts began to push out in all directions, growing larger and rounder. In a matter of seconds they had passed from their modest size to large to eye-catching to a size that Dana had only seen before in artwork, a scale that was not at all unwanted to her. Held together by her shirt they formed a shelf hanging off her body, the hem dangling down over her exposed midsection like a curtain.

She felt another prickling at the base of her spine, accompanied by another squeak and a series of hisses as her hips and ass thickened, the drawstring on her pants pulling taut before the knot undid itself. As the gap between her thighs grew smaller she was aware of another part of her body she didn't have before, and as she moved it experimentally she saw a tail - her tail - swing into view, a sinuous length of flesh with a spade-shaped tip.

The canister abruptly ran dry, and Dana continued to hold it against herself for a few seconds before she realized what happened. Pulling it away she stared down at herself, patting her body down in this place and that, awestruck and a little excited at what happened.

For her part, Vahlen didn't seem the least bit surprised. "Now that the substance has run its course, could you describe what you're feeling right now?"

Dana beamed. "I feel amazing! I look like this... amazing bombshell demoness!" She looked at Vahlen. "This canister, it actually blew me up and transformed me into this?"

"Correct. Don't worry, the process is reversible. But you're not feeling out of the ordinary, physically or mentally?"

She paused to calm herself, thinking for a moment. "Well, I have this-" She swished her tail. "-and I can move it with my thoughts like I always had it. Is that normal?" The doctor nodded. "Okay, and you know when you breathe, and you feel air going in and out of your lungs? My entire body feels like that."

"That's to be expected. You're physically a very complex bladder, composed of thick material not entirely unlike elastic in function, filled with air."

She blinked, and a look of barely suppressed eagerness spread across her face. "Can I... get bigger? Can I inflate myself?"

Vahlen adjusted her glasses. "It should be feasible, though you're the first to broach the matter with me. We haven't looked that far into it, honestly, being mostly concerned with having the formula work properly first and foremost. Still," she continued with a gesture, "if you'd like to come back at a later date to help us on that front, the receptionist can schedule a follow-up meeting."

Dana nodded, glancing down at the canister. "Can I keep this?"

She looked at her oddly. "I don't see why not. In any case, take your time getting changed. You've been very helpful." She went to leave, but as she put her hand on the doorknob she stopped. "Actually, I do have a question for you."

"What's that?"

"Where is the mind?"

She blinked. "The... mind?"

"Yes. The human mind, the seat of consciousness. Where is it?"

"Is this a trick?"

"No tricks."

After a second of thought she replied, "in the brain, I guess."

"Where?"

"I dunno. All of it working together, I suppose. You can have parts of your brain taken out or damaged and still be aware, though your personality might change. Why?"

"Would you say that after your..." She paused, searching for the right word. "...transformation, you're still of the same mind you were before it?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Vahlen approached and tapped firmly against Dana's forehead, and there was a faint, hollow thump. "That is why."

She stared at her before her eyes went wide. "Are you saying I -don't have a brain?-"

"At this point you're lacking many internal organs, all of which will reappear after you revert to normal. But no, you don't. Yet you still have your mind. So devoid of your brain, you still retain your mind, but where is it?"

"I, I don't know. Is that what you're trying to find out?"

"Among other things. It's not a typical scientific pursuit; nearly all of my colleagues were put off by how... esoteric my inquiries were."

"Oh. That's neat. I thought this was just a sexual thing."

"It is entirely a sexual thing," she replied, "but I'm not above earning a Nobel Prize for quantifying the human soul while I'm at it."

Chapter 15

"You're certain you want to do this?"

Zoe unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it off to reveal the black latex bodysuit beneath it. "I trust you," she replied.

"I'm grateful," Doctor Vahlen began, "though though this isn't a matter of trusting me so much as your own judgment. This is a very... extreme test you're about to undergo, and your faith in its outcome is based entirely on conjecture, in turn based upon your beliefs about the fundamental nature of the world. I can't guarantee your safety."

She pulled her jeans down, stepping out of the legs. "I did tell you how the world should work. Don't you believe me?"

"I don't -dis-believe you. Ultimately it's a baseless claim, and yet, despite having no background in the sciences and no feasible means to access my research prior to my giving you access, your beliefs and conjecture match too closely with what I discovered." Zoe handed Vahlen her clothes and she took them, passing them off to one hand and gesturing to her with the other. "That as well."

Zoe made a motion to cover herself. "I need to be -naked?-"

"Ideally nothing should interfere with the test."

She shrugged, looking down at herself and gesturing up with her finger. "Okay, well, you heard her." Immediately the latex shifted, flowing up her legs and hips, leaving her lower half exposed before parting along her back. Drawing away from her body, it rolled down her arms, pooling and forming a large jet black blob in her outstretched hands. Passing it off to Vahlen's other hand, she assumed what passed for a neutral pose, one arm held uneasily across her chest.

"It's nothing I don't have," Vahlen said, "and what you normally wear beneath your clothing is arguably more socially scandalous than nudity." Turning and walking away, she added, "to say nothing of your typical cavalier attitude towards sexuality."

Zoe didn't want to say that she was wrong, because she wasn't. She was simply finding it hard to be casual about her nudity due to her nervousness and anticipation. What person wouldn't feel a bit vulnerable, being in an empty room after volunteering for medical experimentation?

Vahlen left the chamber, leaving Zoe alone for a few moments until the speakers clicked on. "Very well, Zoe, if you'll stand in the center of the room and retrieve the hose from the hatch."

She did as she was directed, pulling the rounded metal lid in the floor open and pulling out a length of hose that ended in a flexible bulb. "Is there someplace special you'd like me to put this?"

"I surmise you already know."

"Right." She squatted, spreading her cheeks with one hand before sliding the end in and wedging it in. Standing, she turned her hips to and fro to check that it was in securely. "Good to go."

"Very well. This is the last chance to back out, you understand."

"I understand, but uh... someone has to do this, right? Whenever you're ready."

There was the hiss of gas, and Zoe gasped, hands moving to her abdomen. Her belly began to fill, first forming a small paunch, then rising up in a low dome.

"Zoe," Vahlen said, "talk to me."

"It's, ah..." She shifted her hands to the sides as she progressed through, then surpassed the scale of pregnancy. Despite the size it hung off her weightlessly, bobbing slightly as she moved. "It's like pushing your stomach out but without doing anything, it just happens on its own. There's... there's fullness, but it's not heavy like food or gassy like soda." Immediately after her breasts started swell, full handfuls rising up on her chest, resting atop the shelf of her gut. Behind her, her backside grew into two full orbs, pinching around the hose. "Oh." She cupped her chest it grew between her fingers. "Oh, that's nice."

"Zoe."

"It's... pulling and stretching, but from the inside." Her thighs widened, pressing into each other as they slowly doubled in size, and she shifted her legs apart. "There's tension, like if..." She ran her hands along her hips, her growing forearms pressing against her sides. "...like if you're spreading your skin with your fingers, but it's not stopping or getting tight." The curve of her stomach began to spread around to her back and hips, forming a single rounded surface, and she stood there, eyes half-lidded.

"Should I have filled with you cold water instead?"

She glanced around for a bit before locating a camera, gesturing with an arm that tapered up from the wrist in a swollen, sausage-like appendage. "It's a little hard for me to focus, okay? But you can kind of feel which parts are inflating and where the cut-off point is, but it sort of stopped now since everything is just... swelling." She stood there, spread-legged, trying to keep her balance. She rested her arms, half-bent, on the shelf of her stomach, reaching around and blocked from view by her breasts.

Slowly her limbs took on a more conical shape. Her arms slid down her sides before being forced outward, and her legs, no longer stable, slipped to either side. She tipped forward onto her stomach before rolling onto her backside. "It's getting harder to move my arms." Zoe wobbled her forelimbs a few degrees for emphasis, hands flapping. "It's like being fat, where your own body keeps you from moving because it gets in the way or holds you down, but... I can't actually feel my bones." A brief look of concern crossed her face. "Is that normal?"

"Theoretically."

Zoe's body grew outward, gradually becoming a collection of domes and curves representing where her anatomy would be. "Even though my skin is pulling at itself my body feels relaxed, but I can't move it." She bent her hands as what remained of her arms began to swell up around them, pressing her index fingers against her skin. "I can feel my own forearms, and..." She looked down at something out of view. "...yeah, my toes are touching my shins. I know where parts of my body should be, but it feels weird-"

"Weird how?"

"I... my skin is all stretched out. Things feel smaller to me, like the hose is really tiny between my butt cheeks, and I can feel the air conditioning blowing against my entire arm and my armpit." Her eyes went wide. "Was that a creak? I think it's getting tighter."

"Should I stop?"

The creaking gradually became more audible, and Zoe's voice became more frantic. "No, I, I can do this. It's, uh, getting like if you eat too much, it's getting harder." Her cheeks slowly bulged as the ominous sound grew in volume. "Cheeks full," she forced out. "No air in mouf. Air goin' ev'wher'. Too tight, too..." Zoe's lips swelled, pursing shut, and she squeaked out a, "gnn blw," as the creaking reached a crescendo.

 

-----

 

"Well," Doctor Vahlen began. "I've run every physical on you that I can think of and, aside from the soreness, you're physically well. Congratulations, you're the first human being to burst."

"Thanks." Zoe rolled her shoulders, sliding one arm into the neck of her hospital gown and massaging her collar bone. "I could use a soak in the tub, though."

"It was an admirable thing you did, volunteering like that."

"Don't mention it. I figured it would turn out okay."

"Speaking of which." The doctor turned in her seat, typing on her laptop before facing Zoe again. A high-angle camera shot of Zoe, full and round, filled the screen. "If you'd like to see what happened." Zoe leaned in and took that as a signal to Vahlen continue, one hand over the keys, the other pointing to the screen. "This is just before you burst. As I advance through the frames you'll notice stretch marks forming laterally across your abdomen, spreading outward from either side of your navel. Then here..." She traced the thin, ragged-edged opening that formed on Zoe's belly. "...we have a rupture."

"Yeah, I remember that. I felt this sharp pain, like I got whacked with a rope or something, and my body just sort of..." She gestured. "...squeezed inward all at once as all the air was forced out. It wasn't excruciating or anything; I guess someone would be okay with it if they were into pain or something."

"When objects - that is to say, things that aren't people - burst, it isn't flying into bits. The least structurally sound part simply gives way and the contents escape via the path of least resistance." Vahlen advanced a few more frames before zooming in. "You'll also notice that this is a particularly clear shot into you."

Zoe blinked and leaned in. "-Into- me?"

"Yes. You were hollow."

She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "How?"

"I'm not quite certain yet, though clearly whatever happens is, as far as we can tell, completely harmless. I wouldn't concern myself with it overly much were I in your position."

"Uh-huh."

Vahlen closed the file and stood, shutting the lid on her laptop. "Again, I thank you for your bravery in this endeavor. If you feel capable of driving, you may leave early and take a few days off. Or if you'd prefer to ruminate on what happened, something can be arranged."

"'Ruminate?'"

"Reflecting on what happened and how it pertains to your interests."

Zoe looked at her oddly, thinking for a moment before her eyes went wide, and she quirked an eyebrow. "Are you asking me if I want to jill off just 'cause I was blown up like a balloon?"

"Do you?"

She fidgeted, looking away. "...kinda."

Chapter 16

One advantage to being a medical volunteer at a laboratory that attracted next to no volunteers was that the staff was more lenient with the people who did sign up. At least that was one of Dana's explanations for why the lead researcher let her keep the small canisters of transformative gas she tested. The other was that, unlike most medical researchers, the products of the research were less dangerous to simply give out. Either way, she wasn't really complaining.

Dana had, over the course of several visits, acquired three such containers which, over the dense medical labels, she had applied labels to tell them apart - "demoness," "catgirl," and "dragoness," respectively. In the short time she had them they had been used quite a bit, relishing not only being something else, but -becoming- something else, undergoing a gradual change into a being wholly different from who she was. Today, however, she had very special plans.

It started with a trip to a nearby home improvement store. She was a bit leery of the possibility of anyone asking why she needed a length of rubber tubing, a valve, and some other supplies, until she realized that the odds of anyone assuming it was for something sexual were nonexistent. Returning home, she gathered the canisters and went to work, cutting, prying, squeezing, and taping. After a bit of effort she had in front of her a nozzle, connected to a valve, connected to three tubes leading into the canisters. After a short break to change into a once-piece swimsuit with an exposed belly, she brought the assembly into her living room and, after a moment of hesitation, pressed the nozzle to her navel and opened the valve.

There was a loud hiss that quickly grew muted as the nozzle sank into her, and she felt the gas begin to flow. She was expecting a tingling, and it came, spreading outward from her belly across her skin, a bit more prickly and intense than she was used to.
She watched as her skin faded to deep red
, and her vision briefly blurred before coming into focus again, a tell-tale sign that her eyes had changed from green to red on black. Dana turned her hands over in front of her, inspecting the color. "Okay," she said, "but what about the other two?"

Her normally short hair began to brush against her shoulders and she reached back, pulling a lock around to discover that it was fading darker from the tips up, turning from red to black and growing visibly and rapidly. A patch of deep green on the back of her hand caught her attention, and she let her hair drop against her shoulder as the patch hardened and thickened, ridges appearing along its surface as scales formed. The scales spread both ways, covering the backs of her forearms and traveling up along her fingers, her palms being covered in soft, flexible plates before her fingernails sharpened into hard talons.

There was a tingling and pricking across the top and sides of her head, and she reached up to scratch it with her newfound claws when a set of cat ears simply unfolded from atop her scalp, twitching and turning reflexively as Dana was suddenly made more aware of sounds coming from elsewhere in her home. She touched them, rubbing their surfaces and being rewarded with a not entirely unpleasant sensation that was distinctly coming from her body yet not from any part that she could remember being touched before. A second later and there was a quiet squeak, and her hands drifted down to the two dark nubs that had formed on her brow, feeling them grow between her fingers as they curved into two long horns.

"I can't believe this is working," she said. "It's amazing! I bet they didn't even know you could combine them like..." She trailed off as something brushed against her legs, and looked down as thick dark fur began growing on her shins and feet. Despite standing still she felt her toes move and press against the floor, and she shifted her weight from one foot to another as they changed beneath her, soft pads forming on her soles as they shifted painlessly into paws.

As Dana tested her balance there was a quiet pneumatic creak, and her view was suddenly obscured as her breasts began to strain against the confines of her swimsuit. She cupped her chest, feeling it swell between her fingers and fill her palms. Shortly thereafter her swimsuit grew snug around her hips, and she slid her hands down her sides, running them along her now-growing backside. As she wondered how large they would get with three canisters a tingling ran across her back, and her swimsuit tented between her shoulder blades and the base of her spine. The fabric shifted above and tore below as scaled projections grew out of her back, the upper two growing points before spreading out into short draconian wings. Beneath them a short stump extended, swaying this way and that as it grew into a long reptilian tail.

Dana awkwardly hurried across the room, still trying to adjust to her new feet as the canisters and hose dangled from her navel and her still growing breasts bobbed. Stopping in front of a mirror, she paused to take in her new form, a chimeric mixture of cat, dragon, and demon. She smiled, noting that she was still transforming as her skin took on a plastic sheen and her chest and hips continued to thicken to an absurd degree. Her breasts began squeezing out of the sides of her swimsuit, easily rivaling the side of her head, and she arched her back, the swimsuit slipping between them as they bobbed weightlessly in front of her.

"Wow," she breathed. "Just... wow."
She ran her hands through her hair, still amazed at what her body had become. There was a strange yet familiar hollowness - or, she supposed, air-filled-ness - to her, only more intense somehow. It wasn't at all unpleasant, though the thought did occur to her that she did look a little too much like plastic or latex, and perhaps having two volleyballs hanging off her chest was a bit much. She thought that maybe she should turn the gas off, yet still wanted to continue and see it through to the end.

As Dana debated with herself, her hair grew more voluminous and creases at her joints and around her waist formed. There was a sudden sort of stiffness to her when she moved, where standing with her body relaxed took no effort; fearing the worst she reached for the nozzle, her view blocked by her massive breasts, only to find her arms and fingers only bent partway. Concern welled up in her as she continued to struggle, arms bending less and less, her body growing more plastic and stiff as her hair became a single shiny, inflated mass atop her head, until finally going completely immobile. Now little more than a bizarre latex blow-up doll, slowly Dana tipped back on her feet, propped up by her tail.

At the very least, she thought, it was relaxing.

 

-----

 

"Vahlen Research, how may I direct your call?"

"You have to help my friend! Something happened to her!"

"Calm down, relax. First, tell me where you are."

"I'm at my friend's house. Dana, she-"

"Dana? Dana MacMallan?"

"...y-yes. How did you know?"

"Goddamnit, not again. I'll be right over."

 

-----

 

As the young woman opened the door for her, Zoe stepped into the entryway, sighing. "Okay, where is she?"

She backpedaled into the room, pointing. "Right over there." As Zoe followed her point, she continued. "She was like that when I came home. There was a phone number on those cans so I called you hoping you could do something about it."

Zoe regarded Dana, or at the very least the comically large-busted, wide-hipped cat-dragon-demon girl living pool toy that she had transformed herself into. As she leaned in for a closer inspection, Dana's eyes turn to face her. "I'd ask if you learned your lesson but you'd probably say 'no.'"

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine," she replied, taking out her phone and hitting the auto-dial. "We can undo this, no problem." She raised the phone to her ear. "Doctor Vahlen, it's Zoe. Dana was at it again. She apparently hooked all three of the transformation gas canisters up to a single hose and used them all at once." She paused, nodding. "It looks like they all worked, but she turned herself into a pool toy in the process. I'm bringing her back so we can reverse it." Another pause. "Yes, I know, but she doesn't listen. It would probably be easier just to keep her there and let her do whatever so we can pad out the warning labels and save her whenever she-" A beat. "No, I'm not being- what do you -mean-, 'that's not a bad idea?!'"

Chapter 17

He was young, dark-haired, clean-shaven, and perhaps slightly pale. There was a bit of weight on his frame, though not too much, and exactly where it should have been. Despite having only a towel wrapped around his waist he didn't seem to mind most of it being on display, or if he did, he smiled when he was nervous. Maybe he thought that by putting other people at ease he himself would be put at ease. It seemed to be working.

Zoe wasn't sure why everyone who volunteered for testing at Doctor Vahlen's lab was so pretty, but she wasn't exactly complaining. "You all set? Filled out all the waivers and paperwork, had the preliminary tests done?" She flipped through the pages on the clipboard.

He nodded. "Is this going to hurt?"

"There might be some mild discomfort." She put the clipboard under one arm, rattling the pill bottle with her free hand before unscrewing the cap. He held out his hand as she approached, depositing a large off-white pill in his palm. "You're going to need to swallow this."

"Really?" he asked, turning it over in his fingers.

"You're lucky we got it to this size."

He shrugged, putting it into his mouth and swallowing with a bit of effort. "So when does it begin to take effect? Whatever it was it called?"

"The..." She looked down at the papers. "...induced generalized anthocyanic turgescence? Normally it takes a couple seconds."

No sooner did she say that than there was a loud gurgle, and he smiled, pressing one hand against his stomach. "I think it's starting to work. I feel a little bloated, though, but not in a bad way, if that makes sense."

"Like you ate a lot?"

"More that I drank something thick." His belly bulged visibly, steadily growing larger, and his smile became a little more nervous. As he quickly developed, then exceeded, a beer gut he fidgeted, attempting to adjust the towel around his waist as his growing hips began to push it open. Shortly thereafter he gained pronounced pecs, then thicker shoulders and arms. "This is getting weird."

Zoe pushed a button on the recorder at her hip. "How so? Try to be as clear and descriptive as possible."

"It's like I-" The towel slipped free, falling to the floor and leaving him nude. "Oh whoops. Sorry, don't mean to flash you."

"It's okay, it's fine. You were saying?"

"It's like I have a full stomach, but it's almost like it's spreading to the rest of my body." He pressed both hands against the side of his gut, giving it a jiggle for emphasis. He was gaining weight, but not in the traditional sense; there were no sagging rolls or folds of flab. His body was rounded and smooth, the contents free to flow and to find room on their own. "It's not fat I'm gaining, right? It's like water, or..."

"Juice," Zoe said. The word came to her mind less because of her foreknowledge of what the experiment entailed, and more of what was happening: His skin was turning a deep purplish-blue, spreading outward from his navel.

"I guess." His body had swollen to the point where it was simply -round-, a single curve from his hips up to beneath his arms, shoulders bulking up and tapering to fattened limbs awkwardly resting on his sides. As the tide of blue continued outward he shifted his stance, spreading his legs before watching it slowly spread. "Oh, that's what you meant."

"Are you still doing okay?"

"Yeah, it's not painful at all," he replied, sounding surprised. "Wait a minute, this is like that movie, isn't it?"

Zoe couldn't say she didn't expect anyone to not make the connection - in reality it was as obvious as they could get without name-dropping anyone or anything. Still, of the two, she was the one less prone to be explicit about it. "Yeah, I guess."

"Is it okay if I sit down?" The young man held his arms out to the sides to steady himself before bending his knees as best he could, lowering himself as close to the ground as his trunk-like legs would allow. He rolled back on the balls of his feet, tipping away from Zoe and landing on his swollen ass, now just two shallow dome-like curves on the lower side of a growing sphere. There was a quiet sloshing as his body shuddered and jiggled from the impact, continuing for a few seconds as his midsection began to absorb his limbs. "You're doing this for-"

Please don't say sex, Zoe thought.

"-novelty food or something, right? Trying to make that gum in real life, I mean."

"Absolutely," Zoe replied. It wasn't wrong; it was a novelty. Directed towards people of a particular inclination.

He made a motion to nod in understanding, finding his gesture to be blunted somewhat by his chest coming up to his chin. His limbs were absorbed up to his elbows and knees, fat cones topped with hands and feet slowly being pulled flat. "Are you going to work on the Everlasting Gobbstopper next?"

"Maybe after we get that glass elevator installed."

He laughed genuinely, unconcerned about body now being round and deep blue but for the faint contours that belied a human physique: A wide belly here, limbs there. Having taken its new shape he continued to grow for a moment more, expanding outward in all directions before finally the dose ran its course, and he was left resting on the lab floor, two heads higher than Zoe, bouyant and fully swollen with juice.

After studying him for a bit to see if he was still growing, Zoe said. "It looks like it's done. How are you feeling?"

"The fullness is still there."

"No pain?"

"No, but it feels like there's a lot of it now, and on top of that it's like I'm floating." One of his hands stretched out, tapping against himself. "I can touch my own forearm."

"Anything else?"

"Um..."

"Don't worry about being too embarrassed to say anything. I've seen a lot."

"You know when you have morning wood?" A beat. "Oh. Oh, I guess you wouldn't. Well, it feels like I'm erect only more... intense."

"Really." Prior to this, Zoe had only seen women turned into blueberries, so having a man being the test subject was new to her. During his transformation she had endeavored to ignore his nudity but, since he brought it up, she was forced to address the elephant in the room. Both in a figurative sense and a more literal one, as it was large and difficult to ignore. Leaning in for a closer look she asked, "how big are you normally?"

"Well-"

"...and be honest."

"Seven inches."

"Really." He was at least double that at the moment, fat and swollen, beads of juice dribbling from the tip. "Okay, well," she continued, straightening up. "We're going to be monitoring you for a little bit to see if anything develops. If anything comes up, just shout." She took a few paces back towards the door for a better look at his face before gesturing towards one corner of the ceiling. "We'll hear it and come in ASAP to take care of it."

"Well, you shouldn't leave me like this for too long." Zoe could hear the smile in his voice. "I might get to like it."

Zoe gave a shrug and smiled with feigned innocence before turning and heading out of the room. As the door slid closed behind her, she shook her head. "There is -no way- anyone could be that innocent."

 

*****

 

Reverie was, outwardly, quite ordinary, with a mane of messy brown hair and a baggy hoodie. Inwardly she was a font of depravity, prone to very esoteric acts of hedonism, some of which brought her to Doctor Vahlen's lab. Having been transformed into a large blueberry girl - large by blueberry standards, much to her chagrin - and returned to normal, she had been summoned for a check-up to ensure that there were no lingering side effects.

The first mistake was leaving her alone for a few minutes following the check-up, giving her enough time to wonder what else went on in the facility. The second was not installing a filtration system that accounted for the near-preternatural degree to which Reverie's nose was tuned to particular scents. Thus she slipped out, following the sweet odor in the air down the hallways to a single door, and opening it into a chamber with a massive berry boy sitting in the center of the room, sporting an erection so swollen that juice was dribbling out of it.

"Wow," she said quietly to herself. "This must be my birthday."

He blinked, not expecting a new face. "Hello?"

Reverie gave him a smile of barely-concealed predatory hunger. "Hi! Hi. You're doing okay in here?"

"Yyyyeah, everything is fine, considering."

She nodded. "Okay, because uh... something came up and you need to be juiced. Right now."

"Right now? Shouldn't the doctor be telling me this?"

"She's busy," she said, advancing on him. "Volvo-"

"Vahlen."

"Vahlen has a lot of paperwork and the juicing machine is broken, so you need to be juiced manually." She knelt down in front of him; there was a heady odor of blueberries surrounding him, eating away at what little will to resist she had.

"'Juicing machine?' Wait a minute, do you even work here?"

"Don't worry, I'm an expert at this."

The young man's next words trailed off into a stifled moan as Reverie ran her tongue along the underside of his length, lapping up the trickle of violet liquid. It was thick and sweet, tasting strongly of blueberries, and it was enough to crumble the last of her resistance. She took him in her mouth as best she could, working him with both hands. Above her she heard him grunt and begin to breathe heavily, and in a matter of seconds a burst of rich liquid filled her mouth to overflowing.

Reverie gulped it down eagerly, and it was followed by a second mouthful, then a third. Working him like a piston she coaxed the juice out of him, swallowing as much as she could as quickly as she could. Her chin and the front of her hoodie were stained deep purple in a matter of seconds, but the lion's share of it went into her, her stomach growing firm and full. Soon thereafter she had developed a prominent gut, a band of flesh peeking out from between the hem of her hoodie and her waistband, growing wider with every gulp.

For his part the young man was wholly unprepared for the sudden barrage of sensations: Being massively bloated, swollen beyond any man's normal size, and finding constant release. He couldn't see what was happening, but he could feel it, something so overpowering that he couldn't even form words.

Reverie, meanwhile, was growing bloated in her own way. Her stomach grew so large that it spilled out onto her lap, and as the weight mounted she shimmied her legs to either side, letting it slowly touch the ground before rolling forward, feeling the contents slosh as she laid atop it like her personal waterbed. She was engrossed in her own growth, and the taste of the sweet, thick juices pouring from him, unaware of everything else around her.

"Excuse me."

Up to and including the appearance of a very severe-looking Doctor Vahlen.

Reverie looked back over her shoulder, getting a faceful of juice in the process. "Um. I can explain."

"That's not necessary; I can tell from context. Miss Rzewuska?"

"On it." Zoe stepped forward, grabbed Reverie's ankles and, with a grunt, pulled her into motion, dragging her away from the young man and leaving a deep purple smear across the ground in the process. "The least you could've done is bought him dinner first, god damn."

Chapter 18

Zoe honestly, truly didn't want to stereotype her, but the new client was making it quite hard. She was named Candi, which was oddly prescient on her parents' part but, again, stereotyping. As she stood on the other side of the receptionist's window she twirled a lock of long, fluffy blonde hair around her finger with quite possibly the blankest stare Zoe had ever seen on a human being as her eyes drifted around the waiting area. Possibly the only thing that subverted her looks and demeanor was her absolute lack of endowment, her chest being practically nonexistent beneath her white T-shirt, "I Wish These Were Brains" printed across it in a looping script.

"It looks like everything is in order," Zoe said, setting the papers aside. "Just head on in. Doctor Vahlen will see you."

"Thanks." Her voice was breathy. "Um, I just wanna say that I really appreciate all the science you're doing."

"Thank you." At least her heart was in the right place, she thought.

"I'm a fan of science too. I watch The Big Bang Theory all the time!"

Zoe forced a smile.

 

*****

 

It was a ray gun. There was really no other way to describe it, as saturated as it was in fifties science fiction kitsch. The gun itself was the size of a rocket launcher, mounted on a thick pole set into a metal box a bit smaller than the average refrigerator tipped onto its side. Fortunately the emulation of retro-futurism ended with its appearance, as the power cable was for a standard high-voltage socket and a line of a half-dozen USB ports was set near one of its corners.

It was given to Vahlen's lab as part of a grant, with the provision that it was yet-untested technology. Whatever forces powered it were unsaid and not within her purview of research at any rate. In a moment of foresight years before, however, she had one of the testing chambers built with lead lining and glass, and so the device went in there. That the atmosphere of the room was rather ominous by its addition went completely unnoticed by Candi, who stared blankly at it as she entered.

"Just stand in front of it," Vahlen said, gesturing to the two strips of duct tape forming an "X" on the tiled floor.

Candi followed Vahlen's finger and nodded slowly, entering the room and taking position in front of the ray as the door closed behind her. As Vahlen set to work typing on a laptop set upon a cart, Candi regarded the machine with an expression somewhere between interest and confusion. "So what happens?"

"There may be some discomfort." It was less spoken and more recited; Vahlen's stock phrase covering any kind of negative reaction. After double-checking the device's settings on the laptop, she said, "I'm beginning now," before tapping a key.

The ray gun hummed to life, and a thick beam of lime green light lanced out, striking Candi. She yelped, an electric tingling spreading through her body from the point of contact as the skin on her chest began to itch. Then, suddenly, she began to grow, her body developing bumps, then curves, then mounds large enough to be pulled down by gravity. Candi stared down at herself as her shirt began to fill with two growing handfuls, tented across her nipples. As her breasts swelled her expression grew less cloudy, and as she regarded her clothing her lip curled up in a sneer. "Oh, it was -ironic-. Some friends they are."

The hem of her shirt lifted up and away from her abs as her breasts grew, blocking Candi's feet from her view. Within the confines of the cloth they pressed against each other, cleavage forming and rising up. For her part Candi was dividing her attention between them and the device, gears turning in her mind, and by the time the beam stopped she was solely focused on the ray gun, not too concerned about how she was now sporting melon-sized melons or a midriff-baring shirt.

A few seconds after the machine fell silent Vahlen entered, and began to speak before Candi held up a hand, not bothering to face her. "It has to be rapid stimulation of cellular growth," Candi said, "localized, independent of the body's metabolism, but none of that would account for where the additional mass comes from." Her brow furrowed in thought as she glanced over at Vahlen. "The power cord is too low-voltage for it to be direct energy to matter conversion, and in any case the amount required would be astronomical." She made a move to fold her arms across her chest, stopping when her arms bumped against them before stroking her chin, musing. "Perhaps a two-stage conversion, from matter to energy and then back to a different form of matter again..."

"Are you experiencing any side effects?" Vahlen asked. "Numbness, tingling?"

"No," she replied. "Actually, I feel better than I've ever been."

 

*****

 

Despite herself, Zoe found herself listening in on Candi's post-experiment checkup. There was a sudden lucidity to her voice and diction that wasn't there when she first arrived, which was suspicious enough, but when she started asking probing questions and guessing - correctly - how Vahlen's researched worked, Zoe knew something was up. Vahlen clearly must have known as well, as she asked her to remain in the lab overnight, "in case of unforeseen changes or emergencies."

"Except what happened was totally an unforeseen change," Zoe said, twirling a few takeout pad thai noodles around her fork. Zoe had chosen to remain after hours with Vahlen for mostly the same reasons as Vahlen, and partly because, well, you didn't see a rack like -that- every day. "Do you think they knew it would do that? When they gave it to us, I mean."

"I doubt it," Vahlen replied. "If they did they'd likely test it themselves to investigate whether the results were reproducible, their permanency, and any potential long-term effects."

"Yeah, I can't see it going good for them if they just let a Flowers for Algernon situation happen when-"

The lights flickered and dimmed for a brief moment, and the two glanced about until, a few seconds later, they dimmed again. Their eyes met and, as one, they sprinted out into the hallway, following it to the observation rooms, the area's sole occupant missing and the door ajar. With a gesture from Vahlen they turned, heading down another hall to the chamber which held the machine.

Zoe slid to a halt at the window, gaping at the sight inside. Candi was topless, her shirt torn in half down the middle, no doubt caused by the use of the ray. Her current size was somewhere in the neighborhood of beanbag chairs, and she had been pulled her down to her knees by their sheer weight. In front of her the panel of the device's base had been removed, an impossible tangle of cords and circuitry spilling out and connected to Vahlen's laptop, which was currently spanning Candi's yard-long cleavage.

"It's strange," Candi said, typing away. "I was right about how this worked, but only halfway." She glanced over as Vahlen tapped on the security keypad, causing the front panel to slide off. "Don't bother; after I broke in I rewired it so it can only open from the inside. I didn't want you to stop me when I did-" She pressed a key with an air of finality. "-this."

The power to the building waned and the lights dimmed as the device came to life, the only light coming from the green beam hitting Candi in the chest. Immediately her breasts swelled outward at a steady rate, gaining inches in seconds, and she beamed. "It took a little bit of effort to hack into the power grid, but it was worth it." As she was raised off her knees a revelatory expression crossed her face and she began typing furiously. "Of course! How could I not have realized it? This code is so sloppy! All I need to do is optimize the power usage and the output should-"

The hum of the device rose to a dull roar, the beam brightly illuminating the dark chamber. Candi laughed as her breasts grew ever faster, rising to her height as the laptop disappeared between them. More and more of the room was taken up by her endowments, pulling her to her feet and pushing her back as they engulfed the device, still firing into her. "It's all SO SIMPLE!" she cried, a wall of flesh pressing against the chamber's window, blocking her from view. "I UNDERSTAND IT ALL! IT'S WONDERFUL! SO MANY ANSWERS! LIFE! THE UNIVERSE!" The room filled with a bright, ethereal light. "THE FINAL DIGIT OF PI IS-"

There was a blinding flash. Vahlen and Zoe turned away, and when it faded they turned back to find that the room was empty, save for the device, now melted into slag.

Vahlen was the first to speak. "What... happened here?"

Zoe forced a stony expression before turning and staring solemnly off into the distance. "We tampered in God's doma-"

"Don't."

Chapter 19

Despite how esoteric it was, Dr. Grey had always considered his research at 2B Laboratories to be more in line with cosmetic surgery than anything else. Thus, when he received an e-mail from a Doctor Valerie Vahlen, who introduced herself as a biochemist, he was curious at her claim that their work had much in common. She was cordial, however, and after some correspondence he agreed to meet her at her lab to discuss their research in person.

"I have to admit," Grey began, apologetically, "I'm not familiar with your work aside from what you've told me previously." He was a fair, dark-haired man, sporting a near-perpetual five o'clock shadow.

"Few are," Vahlen replied. "After I first revealed my findings I was taken as a laughingstock. Even now I'm considered persona non grata for what I do." She was olive-skinned and wavy-haired, serious but not humorless. "Though you seem to have fared much better. Was it because you went public early?"

He nodded. "Once the lab's results were proven and relatively widespread, it was easy to obtain funding outside of academic and scientific circles, and whatever criticisms they had were drowned out by public opinion. We do receive grant money, but much of our income comes from the public and people who request our services."

"Such as the young woman you arrived with."

"Belle? Yes, she-" He paused, glancing about. "Where did she go?"

"I believe my assistant Zoe is showing her around."

 

*****

 

Elsewhere in the facility, a short-haired brunette in a button-up blouse and khakis was escorting a blue balloon woman in a t-shirt and jean shorts about, pointing out the building's features, trying to make them sound interesting and mostly succeeding. "So here's the testing rooms," Zoe said. "It doesn't look like much, but this is actually a fairly busy day for us."

Belle peeked into one of the room windows, spotting another young woman looking incredibly round and violet. "There's a lot of blueberries."

"Yeah, Rev brought her friends along and we're using them as a control group. Don't worry, they're not contagious."

"It wouldn't be the strangest thing that's happened to me."

Zoe laughed. "I hear that." She pushed open a door, walking inside. "...and this is the break room. Doesn't see much use." After a second of thought she said, "if you don't mind me prying, why'd you get that done?"

"Get what done?" Belle glanced down at herself. "Oh. It was, um... meant to be weight loss."

"Really?" She looked her over. "You look fine." Opening the refrigerator she took out two cans of soda, passing one to Belle before opening the other and taking a drink. "If anything, you could stand to gain a a little weight." Midway through her second sip her eyes went wide and she pulled the can away. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that!"

"No, it's fine, I understood what you meant." She pulled the tab on the can and took a drink. "Though, I've gotten too used to being like this. Doctor Grey tried a few cures for my condition and it was actually a little disorienting suddenly having mass." Blinking, she smacked her lips. "This is really tart soda."

"Yeah, the generic soda brands are sort of hit and-"

Their stomachs gurgled in unison and they froze, staring at the cans in their hands before looking at each other, throwing them across the room into the garbage and pulling up the hems of their shirts. Both of them had a pronounced paunch to their stomachs that was rapidly growing larger, a patch of deep purple spreading outward from their navels and covering their midsections.

"Oh no," Belle mumbled.

"Ah geez," Zoe said. "Okay, there's empty rooms nearby, and we didn't drink a lot of it so we're probably not going to get too big."

Belle eyed their stomachs, now hanging dramatically off their frames and pushing their shirts up. "'Probably?'"

She made a flustered noise before sighing, moving to Belle's side and taking her violet hand in hers; Zoe noted that there was a distinct -sloshing- when she moved her arm. "Come on, follow-"

Suddenly their bellies began shaking, and they let out a collective cry of surprise as they were dragged together shoulder to shoulder, their arms trapped between them. Their juice-filled flesh and rubber midsections pressed against each other until, like two bubbles becoming one, they merged, skin tone and blue blending together at the point of contact and spreading up and down between them.

They struggled, trying to pull apart their bodies as their torsos pressed together, shoulders merging before sinking in as the fabric of their shirts joined seamlessly. Four legs fought to keep them standing until their ankles were drawn together, shoes and pants melting and reforming around their limbs as they became a single pair of juice-filled legs. As their bodies narrowed and combined, their heads pressed against each other, rubber and flesh sticking to each other before melding, their features sliding across their faces and blending into a single expression combining both of the originals but distinctly neither. As the last of the transformation tapered off, their clothing reformed into khaki shorts and a button-up shirt, the last few buttons undone as the fabric curtained a massively swollen blue belly with a balloon nozzle set in her navel.

The newly-formed figure shook her head, blinking her mismatched eyes as she tried to clear the fog and get her bearings. She distinctly remembered working for a doctor that dealt with this sort of thing... or was that two doctors? She couldn't have had two jobs at once doing the same thing, could she? She scratched a head of thick, rubbery strands of hair with one hand, remembering her skin to be both more flesh-toned and elastic but not quite how.

She wobbled out of the room, following the signs to the entrance. Whoever was here could probably help her.

 

*****

 

"...but ultimately," Vahlen said, "the approach you've taken to employing what they layperson would consider 'magic' is quite commendable."

Grey nodded. "Thank you. Apropos of nothing, have you looked at those cans of Berry Fusion I sent you a few days ago?"

As Vahlen was about to reply the door swung open, revealing the chubby, juice-bloated amalgam. Vahlen looked her over. "Zoe?"

She turned to her. "Yeah?"

Grey eyed her curiously. "Belle?"

She turned to him. "Yes?"

There was a pregnant silence before Vahlen spoke to Grey again.

"Don't worry, we have a spare room."

Chapter 20

Doctor Vahlen's laboratory was not, by any stretch of the imagination, busy or flush with volunteers. However, when the need arose, a few flyers placed around college campuses and in nearby businesses managed to secure enough people to choose from. At least it did most of the time, when the requests for volunteers didn't have such... esoteric requirements.

"Must be able to consistently and proficiently blow bubbles with chewing gum."

That was what she wanted, printed verbatim on the flyers. Vahlen had to have been serious about it, Zoe reasoned - she was serious about everything, which was odd considering her research included turning people into blueberries and balloons - or else she wouldn't have requested it. The only problem was that it was nigh-impossible for the average person -to- take seriously and, as such, there were only two responses, both of whom were sitting in the lobby of the lab. Still, it was better than nothing.

One of them was a "Rayna," according to the paperwork, who Zoe supposed was the brunette in the high ponytail. She looked to be about college age and a smart dresser, with a jacket, button-up blouse, and skirt with pantyhose. For someone in a less-than-mainstream medical facility she appeared quite calm, reading a book she had brought with her.

The other was "Rosario," which Zoe didn't realize was a male name. If she was being honest, between the chin-length pink hair, baggy long-sleeved shirt, and short shorts, the only way she knew he was a "he" was because he had checked the "M" box on his form. He sat apart from Rayna, hands in his lap, glancing timidly in her direction every so often.

Setting the papers aside she leaned forward, sliding the glass at the reception desk open. "Ranya? Rosario?"

Ranya looked up from her book and nodded at her, placing a ribbon between the pages before closing it, setting it down on the chair beside her and standing. Upon hearing his name Rosario straightened up with a start before rising. "Um," he began, "just 'Rose' is fine."

"Okay." She pointed to the side. "Just head on in through that door; I'll meet you on the other side."

 

*****

 

Vahlen had assigned them to one of the sealed testing rooms, though her notes indicated that the formula they were testing had no chance of contamination or transmission. Probably just to be on the safe side, Zoe thought. As the door shut behind the three she glanced up at the camera in the corner, checking to see that it was aimed at them before pressing a button on the nearby laptop to begin recording.

"Zoe Rwzeska, laboratory assistant to Doctor Valerie Vahlen." She snapped on a pair of latex gloves. "Test of formula code name 'DB', third revision." Opening a plastic box on a utility cart she removed two small cubes of pink gum, placing them in the hands of Rayna and Rose. "Just chew those and try to blow the biggest bubble you can."

Rose eyed the cube of gum warily.

"It's fine," Zoe said, "it doesn't do that."

"Doesn't do what?" Rayna asked.

"Nothing, it's fine."

She gave a light shrug, popping it in her mouth and chewing. After watching her carefully for a few seconds Rose followed suit, pleasantly surprised at the ordinary gum flavor and lack of any strange juices. He rubbed his arms, trying to warm up in the chilly room, scanning the bare walls behind him as he chewed.

Rayna gave Zoe an expectant look, pointing to her mouth as she smoothed the softened gum with her tongue. Pursing her lips she took a deep breath and blew, the gum resisting before billowing out into an orange-sized bubble. It wasn't the only thing that swelled, as the buttons on her blouse strained as her breasts grew rounder and fuller. Another puff and the orb grew again, the top few buttons on Rayna's shirt popping free as her chest rose up, twin hemispheres pressing against each other. Needless to say that this did not go unnoticed by Rayna, who turned to Zoe and pointed down at her new assets.

Zoe checked her clipboard. "Yeah, that's normal."

Rayna nodded. A third puff and the bubble was nearly the size of her head, breasts larger than even that with nipples half-covered by the edges of her shirt. With Rayna's fourth breath the bubble burst, but not before she swelled dramatically, slipping free of her clothes. They bobbed in front of her for a moment, before continuing to wobble and jostle lightly with her breaths and movement as she cleaned the gum off her face. "This is an interesting novelty item," she said.

"It's what we do."

She pressed her fingers into the sides of her breasts, tips sinking in as the skin dimpled. "They feel like they're full of air. No weight to them at all."

"Does it feel like there's air anywhere else?" Rayna shook her head. "Any odd sensations or-"

There was a quiet "pop" and both of them jumped as Rose let out a panicked shriek. They turned to see him spin around, aghast, midriff exposed as his shirt hung off a pair of boobs that put Rayna's to shame. Cupping them in his hands he cried, "what are these?!"

Rayna and Zoe glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes. "Breasts," Zoe said.

"I know, but why do -I- have them?!"

"Well," she began, putting her hands together, "that was what we wanted to figure out: If it worked the same way on men as it did on women, or if there was a similar yet comparable effect."

"'Similar yet comp-' ...oh. But-" He gave them a squeeze. "What am I supposed to do with these?"

"Well, the effects are temporary, so just wait until it goes away, I suppose."

"Or find someone who's into that?" Rayna suggested with a shrug.

 

*****

 

Reverie pushed Rose backwards onto the bed, kneeling on the edge of the mattress before crawling up his legs. Straightening up she straddled his waist, eyeing him hungrily. "That's a new look for you," she said breathily. She rested her hands on his belly, sliding them beneath the hem of his shirt before slipping it up and over his prodigious, pneumatic enhancements, Rose letting out a gasp as the air hit his skin. "I'm a fan of blueberries, but do you know what other fruit I like?"

"No," Rose breathed. "What?"

She smiled, cupping one breast in both hands and, leaning in, engulfing his nipple with her lips. He let out a gasp as she traced circles around it with her tongue, flicking it across the tip before drawing back. "Melons."

 

*****

 

Rayna waved a hand in front of Rose's face as he stared into space with an odd smile, giggling every so often. "He's been like this for a while."

Zoe turned to the computer and began typing. "I'm logging this as a side effect."

Chapter 21

Zoe knew that Valentine's Day had a poor reputation amongst her peers, being regarded as anything from an over-commercialized consumer holiday, to a day of romantic obligation, to a reminder that they were still bitter and lonely. She was neutral on it, but after moving - though she didn't -leave- Saverno Beach, per se, it was still movement on at least one level - she realized that she loved Valentine's Day, not for the day itself, but because the day after meant one thing.

Motherfucking cheap candy.

Hell yes.

Immediately after breakfast Zoe drove to the closest big-box store, grabbing a shopping cart from outside and coasting through the automatic door. She hummed a jaunty tune about the Greco-Italian War as she rolled towards the candy displays, all sporting incredible mark-downs and equally incredible amounts of high-calorie confections. Coming to a stop she began loading the cart down with bags of fun-sized candy bars, assorted chocolates, and other sugar-heavy red and white foodstuffs, moving to the next when it was empty and only pausing to fish out the odd bag of Necco Wafers that somehow made their way into it.

Nearby employees were positively bewildered by the growing hoard, doubly so the cashier when Zoe rolled up to her waving a debit card. "You can split this between two registers if it'll be faster," Zoe said, "but if you can't then don't worry, I don't have anywhere to be."

This was demonstrated about fifteen minutes after the check-out finally ended, when she pushed a cart with a dozen gallon jugs of milk up the same lane. "Me again."

 

*****

 

Unloading the trunk of her car was a minor ordeal, but when all was said and done there was a massive pile of candy on one side of her couch and a careful stack of milk jugs on the other. She stripped out of her clothes, changing into an incredibly baggy and somewhat trashy mismatched sweatshirt and sweatpants before dropping herself in between her troves of food and drink. Turning on the television, she browsed through the channels for a bit before settling on a passably decent film. Grabbing a family-sized bag of M&Ms, she tore it open. "Now the fun begins."

Zoe upended the bag into her mouth, filling it full of candy before eagerly chewing away, dumping in another mouthful once she had finished the previous. Within minutes it was empty and she threw it behind her, reaching for another one before repeating the process. Every so often she paused in her binging, grabbing a jug of milk and gulping down part of it before continuing to gorge herself on sweets.

By the time the movie had ended she had a pronounced bulge to her belly, and she slid her hands beneath her sweatshirt, pressing into it and kneading her softness. "Oh god I needed this," she mumbled. She hadn't binge eaten in a good long while, and the feeling of size and fullness was positively wonderful. She could've stopped there, put on some porn and just masturbated for a while, but she had other plans. Larger plans.

So she ate, and drank, and ate some more. When she got tired of plain chocolate she switched to peanut butter, and when she tired of that, caramel and variety packs before going back to plain chocolate again. As more and more food filled her stomach it stretched and swelled, well beyond normal limits; at first her navel poked out between the stretched elastic waistband of her sweatpants and the hem of her sweatshirt, then a thin strip of skin that gradually grew wider before pushing her shirt up and out of the way. More and more of her lap was taken up in her excess, eventually beginning to spill out over her thighs before she spread her legs, letting it fill the space between them.

Eventually the last of the candy was eaten and the last jug of milk ran dry, and she let out a weary sigh. Her gut had positively ballooned with food and drink, hanging off the edge of the couch and covering most of her thighs. She tried wrapping her arms around it, limbs sinking in as she stretched out, trying in vain to touch her fingertips to each other on the far side.

"Look at you," Zoe said to herself, massaging her belly. "Just this big ball of food. You spent -hours- stuffing yourself silly and you could probably keep on eating." One hand gradually trailed down her side, heading for her hip. "I bet you just want someone to hook a tube up to your mouth and keep pumping food into you, don't you." Little by little she wormed one hand into her sweatpants and beneath her weight to the inside of her thighs. "Just this greedy little girl only wanting to be fed and fucked." She slipped two fingers into herself, stroking her insides. "Just... grabbing your belly- pounding y- nnn!"

After that she didn't really say much that could be understood.

 

*****

 

Zoe was rudely awakened by the ringing of her smart phone. Grumbling to herself, she swept aside a handful of wrappers and picked it up, fumbling to use the touch screen with chubby fingers. "Zoe here."

"Good morning, Zoe." Doctor Vahlen. "Did I wake you?"

"No, no," she lied. "What's up?"

"The lab is going to need a secretary today and-"

"Hold it. I told you today was a fat day."

"Yes, and the schedule has changed."

"I don't think you understand. Today was my day off, because I'm -fat-."

This was a bit of an understatement, as the sugars and calories that had been digested and redistributed elsewhere caused her to bloat up to an absurd degree. The once-baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt were now only partially covering her and stretched tight across most of what they did. Her hips and ass had practically doubled in size, two round globes sinking heavily into the couch cushion, leading down to thick thighs that rivaled her normal waist in width, heavy shins and cankles and fat feet stuck snugly in her sneakers. Her gut had shrunk down and softened but still dominated her lap, a fold in the center and navel sunk deep, jutting out from beneath a sweatshirt that only served as a bra for breasts that dwarfed Zoe's head in size, resting on the shelf of her belly. Her arms had similarly gained in scale, their new weight making themselves known as she held the phone to her ear, and as she talked she could feel the chubbiness of her cheeks and her second chin as they wobbled. She couldn't be described as "flabby," but certainly fantastically large.

"Yes, and I respect your need to exercise your interests on occasion. However, this is an extenuating circumstance, and I will make it worth your while."

Zoe let out a low groan, which turned to an exasperated sigh. "Fine. I'm going to need to take the bus, though." She made an attempt to stand, only managing to rock forward in her seat while grunting loudly. "Just give me a little time to get up."

 

*****

 

Moving was certainly a different experience. Zoe figured that all the weight would make her slower - and wobbly; she didn't think that a single part of her wasn't jiggling when she moved - but the added bulk meant that places where she would normally find easy passage were now harder, if not impossible, to get through. The bus in particular proved a daunting task; the front door and steps were impossible to fit through and climb, so she had to take the wheelchair access of all things and sit in the back. The one saving grace was that she was so unusually massive that the other passengers on the bus felt a collective awkwardness at the prospect of catching her eye when they stared at her, and so they made it a point to leave her be.

One short, tiring walk from the bus stop later and she was at the lab, grateful that the entrance had double doors. Crossing the lobby to the receptionist's window, she entered the door beside it; while not narrow, it was still too thin for her to walk straight through, forcing her to turn and shimmying sideways into the room beyond.

Doctor Vahlen was waiting for her. She wasn't one to express surprise, but her careful study of Zoe's figure passed for it. "So this is what you meant," Vahlen said.

"Yeah," Zoe replied, "this is a thing I can do, I guess."

She nodded. "I'd like to investigate that, but some other time." Gesturing towards the receptionist's office she added, "I had an inkling that you were larger, so I moved what I hope will be a sturdy enough crate in there for you to sit on."

While the creaking when she first sat down was rather ominous, the crate held her weight and she set about her work. There wasn't much to do, but she found her progress slowed by the fact that her fingers kept hitting multiple keys at at time when typing, so it all evened out, she supposed.

There was only a single volunteer scheduled for the day, oddly enough, and as she wondered why Vahlen couldn't handle it herself he arrived. He was about her age, Mediterranean, short-haired, well-built and with a few days worth of stubble, thin-framed glasses fitting his face perfectly. As their eyes met he smiled, nodding politely, waiting until he was at the window to speak. "Rosario, Angelo. I have an appointment."

"Okay," she replied, "just gimme a sec to pull up your file." As she typed, she gradually became aware of his eyes on her, and she looked up at him; if she didn't know any better, she would have thought it was a look of admiration. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, I was just..." He gave a helpless gesture. "...well, admiring you." In response to Zoe's questioning expression he added, "if you don't mind me saying so there's a visually pleasing softness to your figure. You carry it quite well, and-" He gesticulated with a finger. "-the shape of your face compliments your eyes."

Zoe gave Angelo a look over the rims of her glasses. "Okay, I don't know what you're up to, but don't tease me. I've been low-key horny since I woke up and this isn't helping."

"Maybe I can help with that," he said with a smile.

She blinked. "Maybe after you're done here. Uh, what was the test for, exactly?"

Reaching into his pocket he fished out a piece of paper and unfolded it. "It was for... 'induced priapic response, enhanced sensitivity, and refractive truncation,' whatever that means."

Gears turned in Zoe's head, and she snatched the phone off the receiver, mashing the button for Vahlen's office.

"Yes, Vahlen here."

"I love you," Zoe blurted out.

"While I understand the sentiment, I'd prefer if we kept our relationship purely professional."

Chapter 22

"Hey, Rev." Zoe shook a pill bottle, the contents rattling. "Got more dubious discoveries for you."

Reverie's presence had become fairly consistent in Dr. Vahlen's lab, to the point where Zoe more or less expected her to be the subject for any tests involving blueberries. The topic of financial incentives came up with regards to volunteering, and a heated escalation of offers on Rev's part ensued before Vahlen clarified and said that -she- would be paying Reverie, and not the other way around.

...and that all testing materials would be left at the lab. Vahlen's words on the subject were, "'doggie bags' are not a recognized medical practice."

As Zoe entered the test chamber Rev approached, and she uncapped the bottle before depositing what looked like a blue cough drop into Rev's palm. "No gum this time," Zoe said, "...and Vahlen told me to tell you not to bite down on it."

Rev shrugged as she popped it into her mouth, waiting patiently as Zoe took a few steps back to the table. Pressing a key on a nearby laptop, she spoke with enunciated clearness. "Beginning test of sample DL-2-A, 'anthrocyanic parafluid.'" Then to Rev she asked, "how is it?"

"The flavor isn't as sweet." A few seconds later she sniffled, and her eyes widened. "Oh, there it is! Is this meant to be an alternative to the gum?"

"I'm not sure." She looked at Rev curiously as she sniffled again, rubbing her nose. "Did you have a cold?"

"No, it's all of a sudden." She plucked the front of her hoodie. "I'm feeling kind of clammy, too." A few beads of deep purple rolled down from her scalp across the side of her face, leaving a dyed trail in their wake. "I know it's not warm in here, but I'm just really sweaty, and..." A wet shimmer spread across her hair, the individual strands clumping together before seemingly disappearing, leaving a hair-shaped formation of fluid suspended in its place. "This is probably-"

"A side effect, yeah." Zoe trusted the products of Vahlen's research implicitly, but that didn't mean she wasn't afraid to look away in case something exceptionally unusual happened and Rev needed help. "This is gonna sound strange, but could you, like, taste your sweat?"

Rev daubed one finger against the damp sheen which covered her face, touching it to her tongue; the inside of her mouth had turned the same shade of purple, and curiously, had the same sheen. "Am I sweating juice? Is my body moving it outside of me instead of keeping it inside?" She shifted on her feet before grabbing the hem of her hoodie. "I really need to-" She struggled with it for a second before pulling it over her head, lightly tossing it to the side and revealing a positively soggy t-shirt. Zoe thought the action had smeared juice across Rev's arms and hands, but they were dyed too evenly and thoroughly for that to be the case. "Sorry, my clothing is just really sticking to me suddenly."

"I've seen worse." She had also seen that Rev's irises had since turned a deeper shade of violet.

She nodded, teetering on her legs briefly. "This is really..." With a tug she removed the shirt; Zoe averted her eyes, but she caught an unusual wobble in Rev's limbs as she moved, which was enough to make her turn back. Somehow there was a dim light inside of- no, she corrected herself, the light was going -through- her. If Rev had any plans to remove the rest of her clothing she never had to - as if on cue, her midriff simply -oozed- over the top of her jeans, the fabric crumpling to the floor as a pillar of deep purple slime emerged from the seams and holes in it - the same purple slime which now composed the rest of Reverie's figure.

Rev fanned herself with one hand, eyes turning downward before she did a double-take and froze. For her part Zoe made a valiant show of politely maintaining eye contact, waiting until anyone, anywhere, spoke first.

"At least my nose isn't stuffed up anymore," Rev said.

"That's impressive," Zoe replied, "considering that your sinuses are literally goop at this point."

She sniffed, a surprisingly clear sound considering the circumstances, and her face formed a mask of pure horror. "OH MY GOD!"

"What?! What is it?!"

"I SMELL -DELICIOUS-."