Cassie Diamond, a fading Hollywood starlet, has been given a chance to reprise her most famous role: an Ogre princess. But after an ill-fated encounter with Bruce, a thief who stole an enchanted artifact, Cassie finds herself transforming into an Ogre for real. She finds herself becoming bigger, stronger, taller, fatter. Even her personality is becoming more monstrous, aggressive, and dominant. Will she and Bruce find a way to return to normal, or will she embrace her new dark side? From Actress to Ogress is a steamy monster transformation erotica story, 14,000 words long.
Rat Romeo and Mouse Juliet are star-struck lovers, kept apart by the cruel bigotry of their societies. When Juliet is threatened with an arranged marriage, she decides to take matters into her own hands, seeking a potion to transform herself into a rat. But Juliet quickly discovers she's becoming something far more than just an ordinary rat...This is a furry / anthro weight gain tale, illustrated with over 40 pictures.
In Transformation Park, every ride and concession stand can transform reality. Get fattened up on the Hansel and Gretel Ride, attend a gender-bending ball, or watch your crush steal your muscles in the "Test Your Strength" booth. Over a dozen erotic transformation tales of all kinds await you inside...
You can read the first section of the book, "Hansel and Gretel," free on this site. Hansel and Gretel (spoiler alert!) contains weight gain, age progression, and gender change.
After a medical intervention gone wrong, meek and mild Ciara is transformed into a muscle-bound, monstrous giantess. Her new appearance inspires fear and horror from those around her, constricting her efforts to use her strength to help others. Meanwhile, she rescues and falls for pint-sized Mikey, whose small stature complicates his own quest to find his place in the world. This is a anthro / furry illustrated story.
© 2016 by T. F. Wright. This is a work of fiction. All brand names are properties of their respective owners. Modeling by Angel Earl. Photography by Lindsey Gray at ShutterShock Photography.
“He was safe! Safe! Goddamn safe!” shouted Brian as he slammed his beer down on the end table.
“Honey, please, the language,” said Victoria, raising her palms close to her face defensively. Raven-haired with sparkling, eye-shadowed emerald eyes, Victoria’s femininity was only outdone by her retrained sensibilities.
“Sorry,” Brian began begrudgingly, “but that ump’s gotta be goddamn blind!”
“If he’s blind, then why are they letting him play?” asked Victoria. “Shouldn’t they have, you know, one of those ‘special’ leagues for disabled people?”
“I didn’t mean…and besides, the ump doesn’t…argh,” he groaned. “Didn’t they have any baseball in London?”
“Of course not—they have cricket. But I’m not much for that, either…just not a fan of sport, generally. So slow, so repetitive. No sense of drama, you know? Now if you were willing to give the theater another go, we could…”
“Get me another beer!” he grunted in disappointment. His beloved Cleveland Indians had just let St. Louis get a Grand Slam.
“Sure—I’ll get a coaster for you this time, then I’ll check the fridge,” she said, gingerly tip-toeing over there.
Brian rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, dismissively. She set the coaster down for him. He tried to reach out and grope her slender little butt, but Victoria just swatted his hand away and let out an exasperated-sounding, high-pitched chuckle.
“Microwave that sausage in the fridge, would ya?” he asked. “But smell it first, make sure it’s still good.”
Victoria wrinkled her nose up a little at the thought of smelling something unusual, and then crinkled her eyes at the thought of sausage.
“Did you see that CDC report I sent you on the dangers of red meat and colon cancer?” she asked.
“Yeah, I saw it. They’ll pry the sausage out of my cold, dead fingers!”
“That’s precisely what I’m afraid of,” she replied, and she left the sausage right where it was. “I’m enjoying some celery. I’m happy to share, if you’d like.”
“No way,” Brian said brusquely. Victoria’s vegan raw-food diet kept her exceedingly thin, without many curves to speak of. He’d heard that many women, upon getting married, stop dieting as strictly. But much to Brian’s dismay, Victoria hadn’t budged an inch, and neither had her curves.
“Does beer cause colon cancer, too? When’s that gettin’ here?”
“Brian, looks like you drank the last one. If you’d like, you can try a glass of this Petit Bordeaux I picked out yesterday…”
Brian shook his head as he extricated himself from his favorite easy chair. “I’m going out!”
~
“I watched the first half of this game at home,” Brian, unprompted, explained to the bartender. “But my wife, well…doesn’t care for it. Probably because she’s English.”
“Well, it might not be just that. There are plenty of American women who don’t consider themselves baseball aficionados…” asked the bartender. He had a shock of frizzy, silver hair, with a distinctive glint in his otherwise faded grey eyes.
“She says she prefers plays and such,” Brian interrupted. “She dragged me to ‘My Fair Lady’ last week. Can you believe that?”
“A real snooze-fest, I take it?”
“Oh yeah— but there was one song that stuck with me. ‘Why can’t a woman be more like a man?’ Well, why not, you know?” Brian asked.
“Not quite sure what you’re getting at…”
“We say men and women are meant for each other—but you know, men are from Mars and women are from Venus. Take my wife and me. We don’t have the same taste in food, in entertainment, in manners, in anything!”
“So you’d want a woman who’s more like a man, then?” the bartender asked. The question was unusual enough for a few heads to turn in Brian’s direction.
“Hey, listen, I’m not gay or anything,” Brian asserted. “I just, you know, wish we were more on the same page. You feel me, right?”
“Of course, of course,” said the bartender. “That can be arranged,” he added in a low voice, a little grin on his face.
“Huh?” asked Brian.
“I said, would you like another beer? On the house, on account of your troubles, my friend.”
“Yeah, sure, thanks.” Brian said. It certainly wasn’t what he’d heard the first time, but he wasn’t going to say no to a free beer. He put it out of his mind, and didn’t give the conversation further thought.
~
“Alright, Victoria, going out,” Brian said, putting on his jacket. After the debacle last night, he certainly wasn’t going to risk watching even part of a game with Victoria around.
“Out? Where?”
“Not to the store, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Brian snapped.
“No, just curious,” she called out.
“Well, if you must know, to watch the game at the bar,” he said. “Figured since you’ve got such a problem with baseball…”
“Brian, just because we don’t share the same interests doesn’t mean I have a problem with baseball,” she countered.
Brian begged to differ. His adulation of the game made any differing opinion a sign of disrespect. “Well…I like the bar food,” he threw in. “We don’t have any good snacks here.”
“Really? I got some Polish sausage at the market today…”
“You serious?” Brian, said, practically throwing off the jacket and heading towards his favorite chair. “Why the change of heart?”
“I know you left in a huff last week, and I just wanted to try to make it up to you,” said Victoria.
~
“Cleveland’s crushing it!” said Brian. “You’re my good luck charm, sweetheart!”
“Awww, much obliged,” Victoria said. But when Brian turned around in his chair to glance at her, he noticed she wasn’t looking at him, or at the TV screen, but instead at his plate, which had just a single bite of sausage left. She had a bowl of celery sticks in front of her, her usual snack, but she hadn’t touched them.
“You still hungry?” Brian asked. “Wanna try a bite?” He knew full well his vegan wife would refuse.
“Well, if it’s going to go to waste otherwise, alright,” she rationalized, heading over and grabbing the last little morsel. Brian’s jaw dropped—was she really going to try meat?
“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s…bloody brilliant! I know why you were so out of sorts when I forgot to pick them up!”
“Heh, you like ‘em, eh?” said Brian, smirking with satisfaction.
“Hell yes! Let me go heat up another!” she said, hopping up to her feet. Brian’s gaze followed her as she made her way to the microwave. Her walk seemed a little different, like she had a little extra oomph to her hips.
“So…” Victoria said, as she waited for the microwave. “How exactly does this game work?”
~
“Oh, let’s get some of these loaded potato skins! And some chips, salsa, bean dip, sour cream, guacamole…this is gonna be a great game day!” said Victory excitedly. “Hey, Brian, what kind of wine do you think goes with chips and dip?”
Brian was a little perplexed at how eager she was to join in his love of sports and of decent food. But why the sudden change of heart?
“Beer is usually the preferred drink of fans,” Brian said, trying to mimic her affected English accent.
“Haha, that’s pretty good!” Both the hearty sound of her laugh and the fact that she appreciated his joke were also totally out of character for Victoria.
As she bent over to pick up some jalapeños, Brian could see that her ass was a little rounder and fuller than usual. He recognized that she was wearing her “fat jeans,” an oversized pair which Victoria only wore when she was feeling bloated, but now they looked tight on her, showing off her improved caboose.
Brian moved next to her to get a closer look, and when she stood up, he caught her reflection off the mirrored lenses of the little tray of sunglasses at the end of the aisle.
“Hey, Victoria, you wearing a new shade of lipstick today?” Brian asked. Normally Brian didn’t pay this much attention to his wife’s fashion choices, but the bizarreness of recent events kept him on especially high alert.
“Nah, going all-natural for a change,” she explained. So that’s why her lips looked different. Victoria—or, at least, the Victoria he was used to— always wore makeup, even to bed. She had a plastic cover on her pillowcase to prevent smudges. Going ‘all natural’ was just so…not her!
~
“Want me to help in the kitchen?” said Brian, once they got home.
“No, no, no, you just sit on the sofa and relax,” she said. “The game’s almost on, and I don’t want you to miss a second of it!”
“Great, thanks!” said Brian.
By the time Victoria sat down, it was already the bottom of the third inning. Cleveland was down one against Boston. But the moment she took a seat, Cleveland hit a double.
“So, that’s good, right?” Victoria asked.
“Yeah, that’s good!” Brian said, before doing a double take. When had she found the time to change into a Cleveland Indians tee shirt? Did she even own a Cleveland Indians tee shirt?
“Open wide…” said Victoria, interrupting his train of thought with a loaded potato skin.
“Wow, these are fantastic!” said Brian. “Homer! Yes!”
“I’ll get us some beers to celebrate!” she said, running back into the kitchen.
“Let’s chug!” Brian said as soon as the cans were opened.
“Chug?” Victoria asked.
“You know…drink the beer real fast all at once,” Brian explained, rolling his eyes.
“Oh…right…” Victoria said. “Chug, chug, chug!”
They both tilted their head backwards using the exact same motion and started gulping the stuff down.
“Done!” Brian said, smashing the empty can on the end table before letting out a loud, proud belch. A moment later, he glanced back at his wife nervously. She’d been so nice to him today, perhaps, Brian thought, he shouldn’t push things too far.
“Sorry about that,” Brian said sheepishly.
“Quite all ri—” Victoria began, before letting out a loud burp of her own.
“Woah there,” Brian teased. “Better out than in, right?”
The moment of embarrassment lasted only a moment before the TV intervened again.
“Another home run! Woo!” Brian said, jumping up and throwing his arms in the air.
“Woo!” Victoria said, hopping up out of her seat, too. As she raised her arms, her T-shirt rode up on her just slightly. Brian could see a tiny little roll of fat sticking out over her jeans. Beer bellies didn’t happen that fast, did they?
The euphoria of the game—and the unique pleasure of finally getting to actually enjoy it with his wife—pushed the uncomfortable questions out of Brian’s mind, at least for the moment.
“What else did you make?” said Brian, as he finished off the second-to-last potato skin.
“We’ve got…” Victoria started, before she deftly scooped up the last potato skin herself and then shoved the whole thing down in one big bite. It left a little smear of melted cheese on her chin. “…burritos!”
“Great!” said Brian. “You’ve got a little cheese there,” he said, pointing to her chin.
“Oh, where?” she said, dabbing the wrong side.
“I’ll get it,” he said. Brian leaned in and licked it off. Her chin felt a little softer than he remembered. But he certainly didn’t mind the feeling of soft, warm flesh against his lips. Victoria leaned down and gave him a little smooch on the lips.
“I’ll go get the main course,” she said afterwards.
Brian had expected her to walk back with a tray of individual toppings and tortillas so that both of them could make their own. That would allow for customization, but it might be distracting and could cause them to miss a moment of the game if they were glancing downwards…
Victoria had the tray, but instead the tray contained two colossal burritos, each as large and as long as his arm, wrapped using multiple tortillas.
“Damn, girl, good job,” Brian said. “This is like…a Brontosaur's leg or something!”
“Glad you approve,” said Victoria.
Brian lifted the mammoth burrito and took a huge bite. Tears welled up in his eyes from the spiciness of the peppers inside.
“Another beer,” Brian gasped.
“Take one from the cooler,” Victoria said, pulling it closer. Cooler? When did they have a cooler? He didn’t remember buying it at the store with her…
Brian’s desperate longing for more beer to soothe his scorched tongue meant he was drinking that beer before asking where it came from.
Despite its spiciness, though, the burrito was heaven in a tortilla. Brian kept on eating. But before he’d even finished half of it, Brian started to feel full. Did Victoria really think he could finish two of these massive things?
“You gonna eat that?” Victoria said with her mouth full as she pointed towards the other half of his burrito.
“You…you finished the whole thing already?” Brian said, his jaw slack with shock.
“Yeah, and?” Victoria said, shrugging her shoulders a little. In doing so, Brian could see the indentations of modest breasts against her shirt. But Victoria was always flat chested. Was this beer goggles in overdrive, Brian wondered? Or was she really changing?
“Ok, we’ve got one on third,” said Victoria. “What should they do?”
“Hoping they go for a squeeze play,” said Brian.
“Oh, sounds fun, what’s that?”
“It’s where the batter hits a short bunt, probably gets out, but gives the runner on third a chance to run home,” he explained.
“Hmm…so sacrifice one thing for the sake of something better?” asked Victoria. Even in his tipsy state, Brian could recognize something about those words that sounded symbolic.
Brian looked at Victoria. What was she losing? Her makeup, her fashion sense, her femininity, her slender figure…
And what was she gaining? A love of baseball. Better taste in food. Some sexy curves. And, of course, a closer relationship with her husband. Everything he’d wanted, right?
A fantastic trade, in Brian’s book.
“Woah, they did it! Just like you said!” exclaimed Victoria, pointing at the screen.
“A squeeze play, nice!” said Brian.
“Wanna squeeze play with me?” Victoria asked. Just in case he didn’t grasp the meaning, she got up, sauntered over to Brian and placed his hands on her growing breasts. It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Victoria usually declined any of his advances outside the bedroom, and was a cold fish even then, so this was a real treat!
Not many things could distract such an ardent fan like Brian from a baseball game, but this was one of them. He squeezed both of her breasts eagerly for a moment, enjoying their soft, spongy texture. He hadn’t bothered to wipe off his hands before he lustily fondled her. As a result, her shirt was now smeared with the wet slurry that issued forth from the bottom of his overstuffed burrito.
But his wife, who’d been an OCD neatnik just a few days ago, merely giggled. Then she lay down across Brian’s lap. Brian was surprised at how heavy she felt. She leaned across him to grab what remained of his burrito and started stuffing herself.
“Mmph,” she said, as she struggled to undo the button on her jeans with just one hand.
“I got it,” said Brian, helping her poor, beleaguered tummy break free. Watching it jump out was a sight to behold—a little, white, proud dome suddenly leaping to attention. And with each bite of the burrito, her tummy grew larger and larger.
Brian had always liked a girl with a little meat on her bones. Watching her hedonistic gorging cause her doughy belly rise like bread in the oven was deliciously erotic.
The chair groaned a little as Victoria’s weight increased. As her arms strained to pick up the last few sautéed onions that had fallen out of the burrito, Brian could see them growing thicker and huskier. When she licked and smacked her lips after slucking them down, Brian could see her lips growing thicker and her cheeks getting rounder.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Victoria asked Brian. “You’re barely paying attention to the game.”
“I’m just…admiring how beautiful you are,” said Brian, thankful that he could evade the true intent of the question without having to actually lie to her.
“Aww, you’re such a sweetie,” she said. She put her arm around the back of his neck and grunted a little as she struggled to pull herself up again. The posture bent her body forwards and accentuated her tummy, making it look even larger than it was.
“You feeling a little randy, Brian?” she said, obviously feeling his erection digging into her plumper thigh.
“Maybe a little,” he confessed.
“Is that a common thing? Men getting aroused by baseball, that is?” Victoria teased.
“It’s only common when you’re around,” said Brian.
“I’d say let’s take this to the bedroom,” said Victoria, “But I don’t want you to miss any of the game.”
“Well, I mean…I love baseball, but I don’t think I love it—” Brian began, but Victoria silenced him by putting her finger across his lips.
“Shh…just listen to yourself, Brian. I don’t want to make you choose between two things you love,” she cooed. Slowly, she pulled off her tee shirt. She didn’t do it slowly just to be sexy—Victoria was having a hard time getting her too-big body through the arm sleeves and neck hole—but the unintentional snail’s pace of it all made her disrobing more tantalizing than the most perfectly practiced striptease.
She threw the tee shirt behind her and it landed on the windowsill behind the TV. The image of the Cleveland Indians was visible, but so were the stains she’d racked up with her messy meal.
Next, she stood up and shimmied her legs, trying to escape her jeans. Easier said than done, of course—after the amount of weight she’d put on tonight, her fat pants looked like skinny jeans. Finally, with a series of determined tugs, she managed to get them off, revealing the beautiful, wide flare of her new hips.
“That was an ordeal,” she said with a sigh. “Now, where were we? Oh…I remember,” she added slyly, straddling him on the sofa, before helping him out of his own jeans.
Victoria’s softer, creamy thighs gently rubbed against his while they slowly ground together. With each motion forwards, Brian could feel his wife’s bust rubbing against his nose. Meanwhile, in the background, Cleveland just kept hitting run after run. Brian hooted and hollered in approval.
~
“Morning, baby,” said Brian when he woke up the next day. “I had the craziest dream last night…”
“What was that, dear?” said Victoria as she pulled herself up out of bed.
“Oh, fuck!” Brian said, as he looked up at her. It was real! Somehow, his wife had put on tons of weight in just a day. And she wasn’t wearing any makeup at all!
“What’s wrong?” she asked, stroking his face affectionately. Even her eyes looked different—were they brown instead of green now?
“I…it’s…I dunno,” Brian sputtered, his groggy mind struggling to explain what was going on without sounding like he was going crazy. “Something weird has been going on, that’s all.”
“Weird? What’s weird?” she asked, before yawning absentmindedly and scratching under her chin and her underarm.
“Well, you enjoyed a baseball game with me last night, right?”
“Sure,” she said with a little shrug. “What of it?”
“Well…I thought you hated baseball,” Brian deadpanned.
“So? I’m trying new things. Didn’t you want me to give baseball another go?” she asked.
“Well, yeah,” Brian said. He hadn’t expected such an ordinary explanation for such a sudden, dramatic, and inexplicable change. “What about eating meat?”
“I tried a bite and I was hooked. You eat meat every day, so you must know what I’m talking about,” she deflected.
“Huh…” Brian said. That seemed perfectly logical, too! The only thing that she couldn’t explain away was her sudden weight gain, but knew bringing that up was asking for trouble.
“Do you…you know…” he began slowly. “Do you think you look any different than usual?”
“Hmm…” Victoria said, glancing down at her plump little belly and giving it a good shake. “Maybe I put on a pound or two recently. But I didn’t hear you complaining about it last night!”
That was true. Brian was more attracted to her now than he’d ever been.
“There’s one downside, though,” said Victoria as she struggled mightily to pull on a frilly white blouse. “None of these clothes fit right!”
She sucked her stomach in and then yanked it on, but as soon as she exhaled, her belly flopped out of the bottom and her breasts managed to cause a seam to tear near the top.
“Then we’ll get you some new clothes! We could go to Bryant Avenue or Dress Emporium, or—” Brian began.
“Nah,” she said quickly, “I can just pick up some more tee shirts and sweats at Wal-Mart. I heard they’re having a sale on chicken pot pies, so we'll get some of those while we’re there. I’ll borrow your clothes while we’re out, if that’s ok,” she said. She then reached into his side of the closet without waiting for a reply, and put on one of Brian’s shirts and a pair of his jeans. He was surprised to find they fit perfectly. That didn’t make sense; he was at least 6 inches taller than her, wasn’t he?
“Hey, pretty comfy,” she said, walking up to him. Brian stood up and realized he and his wife were suddenly at eye level.
She leaned in and gave him a little peck on the cheek, before reaching behind him and giving his ass a little playful squeeze. “Alright, hun, let’s go to Wal-Mart,” she said.
“Alright,” Brian said with a shrug, surprised that she didn’t jump at the chance to go get some expensive, designer clothes. At least they’d save on some cash, right?
~
Brian couldn’t have been more wrong. Sure, Victoria had saved some cash by buying oversized, plaid, blue-and-red flannel shirts, stretchy blue-and-red yoga pants and sweat pants, and a sensible pair of boots now that her tiny sandals were no match for her growing feet. She also bought an 8 pack of Cleveland Indians baseball caps, “just in case,” whatever that meant. But the savings from the clothes was more than wiped out by the snacks that they got.
Pot pies turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg. Victoria had splurged, adding in stuff that she would have scolded him for buying until just recently: pork rinds, honey roasted peanuts, cheese-stuffed pretzels, spicy pickles, and nearly a dozen bear claws.
“Don’t worry, I’ll save you one,” she said, pointing to the bear claws. Then she let out a big, belly-shaking guffaw.
“Anything else you wanna eat?” Brian asked.
“Let’s stop by the soaps and deodorants,” she said. “Ugh…I hate the fact that it’s all pink and princess-y. Like they think every woman is stuck being a six year old,” she said, surveying the options, which had names like ‘Sweetly Soft,’ and ‘Delicate Delight.’
“Isn’t this what you buy?” Brian said, pointing to a pink tube labelled ‘Flower Power.’
“I…I guess…” said Victoria, struggling to square her memory of buying it with her current aversion to everything it stood for. “Maybe it’s time to switch it up, though, right? Let’s see what they have on the other side,” she said, turning towards the men’s section. “Primal, Dragon’s Claw, Elder Spice…oh, wait! Brian, you gotta smell this!”
With one hand, she reached around Brian’s face and covered his eyes. With the other, she pressed the stick under his nose.
“That smells kinda like…the aftershave I wore in college,” Brian said.
“Glad you like it! Wolf’s Bite it is!” she said, tossing it into the cart. Brian opened his mouth to object, but he didn’t know what to say. The smell wasn’t bad, per se—actually, it was pretty pleasant and brought back some good memories. But there was something about his wife smelling like his old aftershave that just felt…unorthodox, to say the least.
Brian’s shoulders slumped forwards a little as he continued to struggle with the dilemma.
“Getting tired? Let me push the cart for ya,” said Victoria.
“No, I’m…” Brian began, but when he wouldn’t budge, she gave him what she intended to be a gentle shove out of the way. Brian was caught off guard by the force of her impact and had to steady himself to avoid falling backwards against the shelves.
“Ready to go, Victoria?” he asked.
“Could you not call me that?” Victoria asked, narrowing her eyes as she frowned. “Sounds so frumpy and old, ya know?”
“What do you want to be called?” Brian asked, fearful of what the answer might be.
“How about…Vicky?” she asked.
“Sure,” Brian grumbled. Was anything else going to change today, he wondered?
~
“I have a good feeling about playing the Cubs today,” said Brian. “After the last one, I think this has gotta be a walk in the park! No pun intended,” he added with a sly wink.
“They’re much better than Boston, by any metric. So we’re the underdogs, no question about it,” said Vicky.
“Wha, really?” Brian asked, scratching his head. How could his wife really challenge his baseball intuition, especially since just a few weeks ago, she knew next to nothing about the game?
“Yeah, but that’s just your opinion,” Brian countered, feeling a little smug.
“It’s not just mine, it’s Nate Silver’s,” said Vicky. “I read on his blog that Cleveland’s got the ninth best Elo rating. Cubs are third, Boston is 16th.” Vicky said.
Brian’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t just her opinion! It was a well-informed opinion! Hearing that she could back up her claim with a qualified authority only made Brian angrier: it meant he really had been wrong. And, of course, it meant that Cleveland would have a substantially tougher time this time around.
“Nate Silver is the guy who created the…” Vicky began.
“I know who Nate Silver is!” Brian said, feeling condescended to. “Let’s just…get ready to watch the game, okay?”
“Sure,” said Vicky, walking over to his favorite chair and flopping her fat ass into it.
“Hey, is that a joke?” Brian said, trying to contain the frustration in his voice.
“Is what a joke?” Vicky said, stretching her flabby limbs a little and adjusting the reclining gear of the chair so she could lean further back.
“That’s…my chair!” Brian whined.
“Hey, you snooze you lose,” Vicky said nonchalantly. “Hey, while you’re up, think you could get some beers chilled, get the pretzels from the pantry, and heat up a few bear claws in the toaster oven?”
“But…but…” Brian blubbered.
“Hey, I made the snacks last time. Get to it or you’ll miss the first pitch,” she said, snapping her fingers. Of course, Brian knew there was no reason for him to feel angry—he shouldn’t have a monopoly on the good chair, or on not making snacks. But once again, the salience of her point only made his situation more difficult to endure. Not only did his pride and manhood feel as if they were under siege, he also knew he had no grounds to complain about it.
~
“Booooooo!” Vicky shouted when the Cubs got another run. “Fuck this!” she complained, reaching her fist into the jar of pickles. Her wrist had grown wider as her arms grew thicker and fatter, and it got stuck as she tried to extricate herself from the jar. She had to shake her hand back and forth to finally get free, which had the effect of spraying the carpet with spicy pickle juice.
“Hey, watch it!” Brian said.
“Pff, whatever,” she said, noisily chomping on the pickle before letting out a belch. Is this how Victoria felt, Brian wondered, whenever he didn’t use a coaster?
Brian watched with a worried fascination as Vicky gorged her way through the mountain of snacks they’d bought. With each bite, she became larger and messier in some way. When she ate the cheese pretzels, the definition between her chin and her neck melted a little, and her lips and mouth gained a few orange smears, as though they were a kind of replacement for the makeup she no longer wore.
When she dipped into the big carton of honey roasted peanuts with her wet fingers, some of the sugar melted, leaving her increasingly bloated, stubby fingers sticky. The pork rinds caused her ass to bloat, stretching the seams of the oversized yoga pants she’d just bought, as well as causing a little trail of crumbs to fall down her neck and land around her flannel shirt. A few fell onto the fabric and into the pockets, but most fell into her increasingly prominent cleavage.
Bear claw after bear claw went down the hatch, and as she devoured each one in a flurry of big bites and lip smacking, Vicky’s big tummy grew larger and larger. The tiny potbelly which Brian had adored had now swollen into a vast gut, much bigger even than his own stomach. It pushed outside the confines of her shirt, sitting proudly and widely across her waist, which was itself awash in thick, heavy love handles.
“I couldn’t have another bite…” Vicky began. Brian wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed. “So…I’ll just have one more beer,” she concluded with a drunken grin.
When she finished the last can of beer, she smashed it against her forehead. The motion caused a few more buttons to pop off, landing noisily around the room. Now she only had a single button left – it was between her big belly and her massively buxom breasts.
“Hey, we’re fighting back from behind!” Vicky said, when Cleveland finally got their first run, at the bottom of the ninth. “This ball game ain’t over yet!”
“Great!” said Brian, reaching down from his position behind the chair and fondling her breasts. They felt very warm and much softer than he expected in his hands.
“That’s nice,” she said, a wide grin breaking out across her chubby, snack-stained cheeks.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, so it was easy for Brian to gain access to her nipples and start playfully flicking at them. “Yes, yes, yes!” she shouted as Cleveland made another run and Brian twisted and pulled at a nipple at the same time.
“Strike three! That’s the game, folks!” said the announcer.
“Ah, no, no, no!” she screamed, stomping her foot and seemingly causing the entire house to shake. A little picture frame toppled from the mantle and shattered as it hit the floor.
Brian ran over to clean up the broken class. He examined the picture as he did so – it was one taken of Brian and Victoria, on the day they’d met. The two were as different as night and day back then, but opposites attract, right?
“Sorry about the game,” Brian said, as he sauntered back towards his wife. “But, hey, doesn’t mean the rest of the night has to be a bust…” he said, reaching back towards her breasts.
“Sorry, Brian, not in the mood anymore,” she said glumly as she crossed her arms.
“Because of the game?” he asked.
“They were one run away from extra innings! Maybe you didn’t notice, but I did!” she said angrily. “I almost smashed my head against the wall! There’s just no justice in the world to bring hope into the hearts of millions of fans in Cleveland and then snatch it away like that! Did you know that no sports team in Cleveland has won a national championship of any kind in fifty years? We’re due for some wins!” she ranted, her words slurred from the beer.
“We’re overdue?” Brian asked. “Come on, Victoria, er…Vicky. You’re a transplant!”
“So!? Weren’t you the one that wanted me to get more into baseball?” she replied.
That was true. He just never expected her to really do it.
~
“Was gonna watch this game at home, but can’t really watch baseball in front of my wife,” Brian said to the bartender.
“Really?” the bartender asked, looking surprised. “What’s the problem now?”
“She’s just…not been herself lately, hard to explain,” Brian said. He hadn’t had much luck explaining what had happened when he’d broached the subject with his wife, so Brian certainly wasn’t expecting to have much luck conversing about it with a virtual stranger.
“Try me,” said the bartender. “This one’s on the house,” he said, sliding him another beer.
“Alright,” Brian budged. “She’s just been acting really strange. She used to spend hours getting ready, always trying to look dolled up. Now, she just wears whatever, and her diet's gone to hell.”
“Ah, so your wife got fat on ya, huh?” the bartender asked. “And I take it larger ladies aren’t exactly on your menu?”
“Well, actually…” Brian began, but then trailed off. How was he supposed to admit that he actually enjoyed that part of the change?
“Watching the games when Cleveland wins is fun, but during the last game…” Brian started, hoping to change the subject.
“Ugh, that was a terrible game!” agreed the bartender. “I nearly smashed my head against the wall at that almost-comeback!”
“That’s what she did!” Brian exclaimed. “She just got so angry…and she’d been drinking, so that accentuated it…”
“I’m not sure why you’re so concerned, isn’t all of this what you wanted?” asked the bartender.
“What I wanted? I’m not even the man of my own house anymore! Let alone going to a bar with her. It’d be downright embarrassing, being shown up by her. Why on Earth would you think I wanted this to happen to her?”
“Weren’t you the one who said ‘why can’t a woman be more like a man?” the bartender reminded Brian. “You told me you wanted your wife and you to have more in common, so…”
“So…you did something?” Brian asked. “You messed with my wife!?”
“Speak of the Devil,” said the bartender, pointing towards the door, as Vicky walked in. Brian wanted to continue his conversation with the bartender, but he couldn’t say anything while she was around…
“Brian, that you?” said Vicky. “Thank God I found you, we almost missed the game! Against the Yankees, no less! Can’t miss that!”
“I’m gonna watch the game here,” Brian said. “This is a sports bar,” he explained. “I’ll see you at…”
“Sure, we could watch here,” said Vicky. “But first we gotta play this cute little game over here!” she said pointing towards a grip test machine.
'Will you be a famous baseball player?' the machine said, in brightly-lit letters.
“Oh, brother,” Brian groaned.
“Come on, it looks fun!” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a few quarters. Why was she keeping money in her pocket, Brian wondered – where was her purse?
If he was going to do something, Brian thought, he’d do it right. He grabbed the grip machine and squeezed with all of his might, trying to channel some of his frustration with what had happened to his marriage into the machine.
'Cold Fish!' the machine read—the lowest possible level—before making a “Wah-ah-ah,” noise.
“Cold Fish!?” Brian exclaimed. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”
“Move over and let me try,” she said, shoving another quarter in and biting her thick lip as she gripped the machine.
The lights shot all the way up. “Babe Ruth!” it read, and then played a MIDI version of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.”
“Alright, you’ve had your fun, let’s go…” Brian said meekly. If she could leave quickly, maybe they could avoid an incident…
“Woo-hoo! This place rocks!” she shouted, pulling up a barstool between Brian’s seat and the three other patrons at the bar. Her big butt didn’t quite fit on the stool, and a little lip of excess fat hung over the edge.
“Vicky,” Brian began, “I don’t think that you heard—”
“Play ball!” she shouted up at the screen, as the game began. “Oh, come on, that was a strike! That ump’s blind!” she shouted, and the guys seated at the bar nodded in agreement.
Brian rolled his eyes a little and quietly sipped at his beer. Of course, he agreed with Vicky, but he was too proud to say so out loud. Would she notice if he crept out of the bar and tried to find another one, Brian wondered?
As Brian started to head for the exit, the bar doors creaked, and in walked a man with slicked back hair and thick black sunglasses.
“Hey, get me a Whiskey Sour,” he said. “With a yuuuge amount of sour,” he said. From the sound of his accent, he was obviously a New Yorker.
“Yeah, yeah, good one!” he shouted while clapping, when the Yankee pitcher struck out Cleveland’s first batter. “Let’s teach these mooks a lesson!”
“Hey, buddy…” the bartender began in a soft voice. “In case you forgot which city you’re in, this happens to be…”
“Pathetic, pathetic!” the man from New York interrupted—the next batter got a strike.
Brian was about to make a second attempt at escaping from the bar, but then his wife stood up. “Hey, buddy, we don’t take kindly to disrespecting the Cleveland Indians around here.”
“You’ve got a lousy team with a racist mascot,” he said, turning away from her and sucking down his drink. The pinched features on his face grew even more twisted and ugly in the process.
In a split second, Vicky wound up her arm for a punch and then flattened the guy. He tumbled from his barstool and fell to the floor.
“You…you hit me! I’m calling the cops!” he said, touching the little trickle of blood coming from his nose.
“Yeah, and if you do, I’ll say you grabbed my tits. I got some witnesses that’ll back up my story,” said Vicky. All the other guys at the bar raised their hands in the affirmative.
“You crazy bitch! I’m outta here,” he said, hobbling away. As soon as he left, the entire bar burst into raucous cheering and applause.
“Alright, I gotta piss like a racehorse,” she said, strutting her way towards the restroom.
“Is that the wife you’re always in here complaining about?” said one of the guys, as soon as she left.
“She’s a knockout – literally!”
“She’s a keeper in my book!”
“Are those tits real?”
“I…uh…thanks?” Brian asked, feeling a little stunned. He thought he’d have to feel ashamed of being with a woman like her. He never expected the guys at the bar to actually approve of the new Vicky.
“What is it, exactly, that’s got you so upset about her, anyway?” asked the bartender.
“I…um…I don’t know,” Brian said sheepishly. He couldn’t think of a single thing.
~
Cleveland dominated the game against the Yankees, winning by five runs. Neither Vicky nor Brian paid for their drinks all night, as the rest of the patrons bought their rounds on account of Vicky having provided ‘good luck’ for the Indians.
In the meantime, they’d both loaded up on bar food. Vicky consumed basket after basket of crispy onion rings, drowning each of them in a vat of ranch. Most of the onion rings made it into her mouth but some splattered on the floor, the bar, her shirt, and her double chin, which looked like it was in danger of tripling. Vicky’s dainty nose looked like it was broadening, too, taking on a more porcine look.
When they ran out of onions, Vicky switched to fries, which she grabbed by the handful instead of individually, as had been her custom. She squeezed the ketchup bottle hard enough to empty it completely, causing it to produce a wet sound similar to flatulence.
“What’s that sound like, huh, guys?” she asked, to universal laughs. Even Brian chuckled a little. Why fight it, he thought?
Each time Cleveland got a run, Vicky smashed her fist down on the bar in approval, causing multiple patron’s beers to spill. But they took it in stride – even when she was making a mess, she was still the life of the bar.
As Vicky rattled off baseball statistics that Brian had never even heard of and waved her hands around for dramatic emphasis, she caused the flab on her arms to jiggle and her heavy, bra-less breasts to sway and knock against each other. Everyone, especially Brian, was spellbound.
They took a taxi home – and, when they arrived, the driver told him that the bartender had covered their fare. He also said the bartender had left a note for Brian inside an envelope. Inside was a scrap of paper with just two words: “You’re Welcome.”
~
“What a night,” said Brian, as he and his wife staggered into bed. “I can’t think of how that could have gone better!”
“I can think of one thing,” said Vicky, pulling her clothes off, revealing just how much she’d changed. The delicate frame that she’d once possessed no longer existed. Instead, Vicky was a big powerhouse of a woman, someone Brian might have assumed was a softball player. Her arms and legs were both wider and longer than his, and as she leaned closer to him, he could tell that she was at least 2 or 3 inches taller as well.
As Brian felt her sloppy kisses decorate his forehead, he felt his pathetic worries about being ‘the man’ slowly melt away. Now, instead of feeling embarrassed by her, Brian only felt embarrassed that he’d resisted this for so long.
Brian soon disrobed as well. But when Brian leaned in to kiss her, she pushed him down on the bed instead. Then she turned around and leaned over him, placing her wide, cellulite-pocked thighs on either side of him, before gradually lowering her crotch to his face while her big, soft belly weighed down on his neck and chest.
Brian cautiously lapped at her, but his enthusiasm increased when she leaned down and began to lick his cock, eagerly swirling her mouth around him. Then she leaned against him, taking him all the way inside her throat.
The massiveness of Vicky’s thighs and ass meant that Brian could barely breathe, but that only enhanced the intensity of his orgasm when he finally shot his load. Vicky gulped it down eagerly. She let out a few deep groans as she came too, then gingerly rolled off of him.
Brian snuggled himself against the softness of her flabby shoulder, while his hands massaged her large, sweaty belly. Meanwhile, Vicky cradled his head in her large, hugely husky arms, while her fingers splayed through his hair. The flesh that brushed against his cheek was softer, warmer, and more giving than any pillow.
Brian drifted off to sleep with a big smile on his wet lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy. Vicky felt the same way.
The End
Did you enjoy this story? Then check out From Charlotte to Chavette: The Ring of Change Saga!
Liam's a liar and a thief, a no good London "chav" who steals a ring that has the power to transform anyone who wears it into the perfect match for whoever gave it to them. Unfortunately, he said his perfect woman is "twice as bad" as him! The pretty and posh lady on whose finger the Ring of Change now sits is in for a surprise. She's going to transform into a woman who is fatter, trashier, sluttier...a real "chavette." Liam should have been more careful what he wished for!
“Congratulations,” Maggie said as she squeezed William’s free hand. “I’m so proud of you.” Maggie placed the envelope containing his employment offer in the back seat.
“Thanks,” William replied, nodding while keeping his eyes on the road. “Working for this hospital really is an opportunity of a lifetime…but I’m sad that things will be different. We’re lucky that we were both in college together this year. But I’d rather not go off to the East Coast without you.” Maggie, still in her undergrad program, had a quite a few years to go before she would be were William was, finally starting his residency as a doctor.
“You’re sweet, William,” Maggie responded. “But, you know, there are other options.”
“We agreed that this the optimal decision. It’s not perfect, but we’ve already analyzed all the alternatives…” William said.
“Not…all the alternatives,” Maggie said with a poignant pause. “I could get on the track to graduate early, and maybe you could put your career plans on hold for a little bit.”
“You, graduate early?” William asked. “Well, I suppose. But what would it matter? You agreed earlier that given my circumstances, taking this job offer was the right thing.” William stated, somewhat confused.
“Pull over, honey,” Maggie instructed, and William complied. Their car slowed to a stop on the empty, private gravel road. “Tell me the truth: would you mind if things changed?”
“What are you implying?” William asked suspiciously.
“If I altered a few…little things. I’ve always felt that there was something just little out of place with us.” Maggie said slowly.
“How could you do that?” William inquired.
“Oh, leave that to me,” Maggie said through laugher. “I just wouldn’t feel right about it if I didn’t have your permission first.”
“My permission for you to do what, exactly?” William asked, feeling more puzzled by the minute.
“To make a few changes,” Maggie replied enigmatically.
“What kind of changes, Maggie?” William said exasperatedly.
Maggie leaned over the seat and placed her lips flush against William’s ear. She slowly and seductively whispered, “Special ones….and…” she added as she pulled away, “You won’t have to worry about your job conflicting with our relationship.”
“Well, that sounds superb to me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Maggie. I really do want to do whatever I can to make this work with us.”
“That’s what I needed to hear, William. Lie back in your seat and please, close your eyes.”
William still wasn’t sure what he was getting himself into. But he had learned to accept those kinds of instructions from Maggie readily, as it always led him to pleasure.
Maggie pulled her lithe body up from her car seat. She glanced around. The private, wooded road was still deserted. They had total privacy.
She slowly pulled her body on top of his and straddled him. She ran her fingers across his handsome, mature looking facial features. She felt her hands run other his suit-covered body, appreciating the muscular frame that he had developed with his strict exercise regimen during grad school. She concentrated on remembering him as he was, at that exact moment.
Maggie mentally said goodbye to William, the recent med school graduate. She placed her hands around the back of his neck, pulled him forwards into a tight embrace, and kissed him.
At first, the kiss was nothing more than locked lips. Then, ever so slightly, she used her tongue to lick his lips. The lips parted, and the two kissed for barely a moment before Maggie pulled her lips away.
“William, what do you plan to do now that you’ve finished med school?” She asked with purpose.
“Maggie, I’ve still got another year to go,” William casually responded as Maggie started deeply into his eyes. He did seem younger, though it was hard to really discern it physically. How well had she remembered his features from just a few moments ago? “You’re lucky you’ve put organic chemistry behind you in your undergrad. That was my worst year ever.”
“Organic chemistry?” Maggie asked. She hadn’t taken that course. And yet…as she thought about it, she did remember taking it, clearly. She both remembered taking it and not having taken it at once.
“Yeah, that class is always hard,” William said as he took advantage of their closeness by slowly grinding his body against hers, reminding Maggie that chemistry isn’t the only thing that was hard. “Were you thinking about next year? It’s going to be sad, if I get accepted to a really good hospital back east and I have to leave you behind here. I really don’t want us to be apart.”
Maggie bit her lip and nodded. He had an excellent point. She hadn’t fixed the problem with her alteration. Their transfer had only shifted things one year. He’d still be leaving next year. Their dilemma hadn’t been solved at all – the can had just been kicked down the curb a year.
She looked down at her boyfriend. He looked almost identical to how she remembered him. Perhaps there was room for more change. Perhaps the very best thing to do, Maggie concluded, was to make two the same age. If they were in the same year of schooling for medicine, this wouldn’t be an issue at all. One more age transferring magical kiss ought to do the trick.
Maggie mentally reminded herself to be careful before she began. She only knew how to do this in one direction, and it wasn’t reversible.
She leaned towards William and hugged him tightly. She thought about her memories from her last year of college – memories she didn’t have just a few moments ago, yet they were more real to her now than any memory she had in her head, perhaps more so.
She undulated her slender body over his fit one, exciting them both. Before she could decide whether or not the kiss was the right thing to do, William became overwhelmed with lust and their mouths met.
This time, the kiss was far more passionate. Maggie couldn’t help herself. She had only barely licked his lips before. Now that they were really kissing, she could feel the energy completely. The more intense it became and the longer it lasted, the better it felt. Maggie felt her entire body tingling with glorious sexual energy.
After a while, Maggie’s mind finally remembered the consequences. The kiss was enchanted, how could she have forgotten? She quickly stopped, but knew right away she had lingered longer than she had intended.
After the first kiss, William’s clothes had remained the same: the professional suit, which he wore almost always since they had met. Now, he had on a different outfit: one Maggie could never remember seeing him in. It was too casual, too unprofessional to be his.
He was younger now, clearly younger. In fact, it was obvious to Maggie that William was significantly younger than when she had first met him. Yet, the more she tried to convince herself of this, her memory changed. Now, she had two memories of her meeting with him: one, in which she had met an older, professional, med school attending man, and another…in which she had reached med school before he did. She felt her memories of years of classes flood into her temples. The effective instant education was almost overwhelming.
“I’m going to miss you,” William cooed.
“Miss me?” Maggie said in a daze.
“Yeah. When you leave for back east, you know.”
“Back east?” Maggie asked, still in shock.
“Yeah…the hospital internship…” William said sheepishly.
Maggie loudly groaned. She hadn’t solved anything. Their situations were merely reversed now.
And yet…feeling William’s caresses on her body and seeing the eager, young, innocent look on his face was fast helping her forget. She pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his back, letting her fingers gently play with his hair. She was the older woman now, not just in control during a few moments of passion, but also in principle. Was this the thrill William had once felt in dating a younger woman – the way it used to be?
Though he was young, William was not at all shy. She felt his arms starting to feel her body, still situated on top of his in the driver’s seat. They were, thin, scrawny arms, not yet defined by years of exercise. She could feel him, in his amateur way, trying to slip his hands up her shirt – which was a lot nicer a shirt than she had remembered owning before. She shifted her position on top of him to allow his arm easier access. She felt a tingle go through her body, and was surprised at how much there was to squeeze.
She turned and looked in the rear view mirror. Sure enough, her face looked a little softer, her cheeks and chin a little rounder. She suddenly remembered how she had put on the freshman 15 in college, along with more weight for sophomore, junior, and senior. That thought didn’t seem to bother her at all, though, as she rolled it around in her mind. In fact, as William’s arms roved up and down her curvy, softer, more womanly frame, the thought excited her.
She cuddled with her younger boyfriend, enjoying the sensations more than she had ever felt before. Their new bodies had a delicious balance.
But there was something more there as well. She had spent all their relationship, in one life anyway, as the younger one, the immature one, the uneducated one, and occasionally the submissive one. That was over. The relationship was completely in her hands. William was hers to shape and mold however she liked.
That thought aroused Maggie. More so than she already was. She loved her power over him, her new abilities to love and nurture him.
William was doing his best to remove her clothes but was having a great deal of difficulty. As entertaining as that was, Maggie could not help but start thinking that there were still going to be problems in their relationship. She was leaving for her internship, apparently, and William was still stuck in the middle of his undergrad. That wouldn’t do.
Or would it? She could probably manage, although it would be difficult. She felt a powerful urge to act, but the motivation seemed to be a mystery, if it wasn’t about saving the relationship.
The realization finally hit Maggie with a mixture of shame and delight. It was just at that moment that William succeeded in pulling off Maggie’s top. She could feel his erection pushing through his pants onto her bare, slightly round stomach.
She knew what she wanted to do: she wanted to accentuate the situation. She wanted to push it just a little bit farther. “If he was just a little bit younger, a little bit more inexperienced, a little more malleable…and if I was just a little older, a little more settled, a little more in control…” She could feel this train of thought rapidly arousing her.
The temptation quickly became too much. She leaned in, wrapped her arms him as tightly as she could, and kissed.
This kiss was different than the others. It was hungrier, more desperate. At first, she felt herself battling his tongue with her own. Then, she felt herself overpower him, kissing him more deeply than she ever had. She could slowly feel the magic running down, losing its power to change. She held onto his body tightly, continuing to kiss greedily. She wanted to drain him of every last drop.
When she pulled away, William was younger. Not really a boy, but not really a man either. A senior in high school, probably. Just barely legal.
His young faced stared up at Maggie with many emotions, including fear, excitement, and curiosity. Most of all, there was love. He gazed up at her the way a child might look at an angel.
“I love you,” he said as he pulled her in for a hug. The hug itself was innocent, yet at their height and position, his face was resting on her breasts. Not sure exactly what to do, but obviously interested in them, he simply nuzzled his face in them gently. The mixture of his innocence and awakening sexual curiosity was extremely exiting to her.
And how large those breasts were! Searching for an explanation, her mind was flooded with memories. Her budding, successful career in medical research. Long meetings and nights at the lab with little time for exercise. At home, plenty of time for milk and donuts. Ice cream socials at work…
“I love you too, William.” Maggie said at last.
“William? That always sounds so old. Why can’t you just call me Billy, like everyone else?” He asked in his younger, higher voice.
“Billy it is, sweetie,” she replied, stroking his face and feeling his young looking hair. She felt him cuddle with her and gently touch her body. His hands touched her husky upper arms and massaged her round pot belly.
She knew that the relationship was changed forever. Before the shift, it had been on the cusp of good taste in terms of the age gap. Now, it was completely past that. It was now almost completely forbidden and unusual, even more so now that the woman was older.
She sat down and pulled the scrawnier Billy onto her lap. William had told her about his late growth spurt in his early 20’s. Now absent that height, she estimated Billy was slightly shorter than she was. As she stroked his body, she reflected on the new roles they had. She was not merely his girlfriend: she was now so much more. She was the woman who would initiate him into adulthood, help him really understand his body. She would be a friend and an advisor to him, an educator.
As she cuddled with Billy, she reveled at the new balance their bodies had. She loved how she was not just older, but also bigger, taller, and softer than he was. She was in complete control.
She was now his nurturer, his protector. She would love him and care for him and even treat him like a child – a child eager to discover his budding manhood. She would baby him and love him, becoming almost a mothering figure to him.
All of this aroused her almost beyond belief. She thought about how they would look together in public. Others would laugh or be shocked or chalk it up to a stupid fad. The social friction she knew she would face somehow made it even more alluring.
Billy looked her straight in the eyes. His young face was filled with love and adoration and devotion.
“Maggie, you’re everything to me,” he said.
“You’re a good boy, Billy. A very good boy. Would you like Maggie to give you a treat?”
Billy nodded vigorously, and Maggie slowly slipped her hand down Billy’s stomach, tickling him as she went. His laugh was high pitched and childish. Eventually, her had reached his underwear and entered it.
She could tell by the expression on his face that the sensations were new and shocking, but pleasant. She gently went to work massaging his cock, and it quickly came to life in her skilled, soft hands.
Before very long at all, he was moaning with appreciation. Maggie leaned in and very gently kissed him, and he kept moaning through the kiss. He came quickly, spraying his body and his clothes with his own cum.
“That was really nice, Maggie,” Billy said, and he slowly kissed at her neck and breasts in ways which were both innocent and sexual.
Maggie used her other hand to gently caress his hair as she kissed his forehead. “Good boy, Billy. Maybe later I’ll teach you how to do that for me.” At that, his eyes lit up. “Let’s get you home first.”
As they switched places and she got into the driver’s seat, she noticed an envelope in the back. Maggie dimly remembered something very vague, the details fading from her mind as if in a dream upon waking. One detail remained as the others drained away. It was an acceptance letter – and offer of employment. But how could that be?
She reached back and took the envelope in her hands. It was an acceptance letter – for Billy to start his undergrad at her Alma Matter!
“Congratulations, baby,” Maggie said as she squeezed Billy’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!”
“College,” Billy grumbled. “I don’t want to think about it...”
“Why not?” Maggie said. “Thanks to that opening in division at my job, we can keep living together.”
“I’m just worried about the social life. I’ve never been the most popular guy in high school. What if all the other kids are mean to me?” He asked petulantly.
“Don’t worry,” she said as she lovingly gazed at him, “My Billy, my sweetie, my perfect boy, I’ll always be there to protect you.”
~~~
THE END
Want to read another story in which an age transfer helps re-balance a relationship? Check out Trophy Cougar Wife. Sherry is a trophy wife - a young little thing married to a rich older gentleman. But she has a resentful stepdaughter to deal with, and she feels unfulfilled compared to her successful husband. If only there was some way to flip the roles of their relationship...
“AP Elixir, huh?” Anthony asked. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s a new product, that’s why we’re giving away samples as part of this special promotion,” the man replied in a deep, low voice. Anthony detected the trace of a foreign accent but couldn’t place from where the man might have been born. He shrugged, put the flask of swirly, purple liquid into his pocket, and began to walk home.
When he arrived in his apartment, he took out the vial and gave it a second look over. He was about to take out the rubber stopper and try a taste, but then realized he had neglected to ask the man what the substance was.
“Probably some kind of energy drink,” he said to himself. “Well, don’t want to be up all night. I’ll just try it later,” he said as he put the drink away in the refrigerator. He gave the drink no further thoughts until several hours later.
~
“I’m home, honey,” Jillian, Anthony’s girlfriend, announced as she opened the door. Anthony was on the couch, watching a re-run of “Nip/Tuck.”
“Hey, babe. I went shopping,” Anthony replied.
“Thanks, after that workout, I’m starving,” Jillian replied. “I tell you, being an aerobics instructor really does tire you out.”
“Well, help yourself to whatever you’d like,” Anthony replied. Jillian, a diet nut, rummaged through the refrigerator for celery stalks and carrot sticks. She stopped for a moment when she saw the “AP Elixir” drink on the shelf.
“Probably just a new brand of energy drink,” she said without a second thought. “What the heck, I’m pretty beat today,” she said as she reached for it.
Jillian brought a plate of veggies over to the sofa and sad down next to Anthony. Her lean, ultra thin body was so lithe that her spandex almost appeared to blouse up. Her blond tresses framed her skinny, diamond shaped, youthful face.
“That new energy drink is fantastic,” Jillian said, after letting out a small belch and looking embossed. “You have to get more of that ‘AP Elixir.”
“Is that what it is, then, an energy drink?” Anthony asked.
“How should I know? There was no label…wait, why did you buy it if you didn’t know what it was?” Jillian replied.
“Well, actually, I didn’t buy it. I got it for free as a sample,” Anthony explained. “I just forgot to ask what it was. I just assumed it might be an energy drink, or…something. Do you feel more energetic?”
“Kind of. I feel really…tingly. It’s a good kind of tingle, though. Like a warm little shiver is going up whole body,” Jillian said. “And I’m really hungry, too,” Jillian added. “Did you pick up anything at the market other than veggies?”
Anthony paused before replying, a little suspicious of his girlfriend’s unusual behavior. “Well, I did get some sweet rolls with frosting…”
“Oh, give me some of those!” Jillian said excitedly. Anthony rummaged through the kitchen and produced the pastries, which Jillian eagerly consumed, bits of frosting smearing on her cheeks and lips. As soon as she polished off the last of them, she grabbed the shocked-looking Anthony by the back of the neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.
Anthony could taste the frosting on her mouth, making the kiss sweet. She tongued his mouth furiously and ran her hands up his shirt.
“I’ll definitely get more of that drink tomorrow,” Anthony thought to himself.
~
The next morning, he awoke to find Jillian preening into the bathroom mirror and making whining noises.
“I look awful today, Anthony. I didn’t party or anything last night…I just don’t get what’s going on?” she complained.
Anthony pulled himself out of bed, and took a look at his girlfriend. He suspected that nothing was really wrong, as Jillian engaged in this sort of behavior often. When he looked into the mirror, however, he was surprised.
Jillian’s face certainly looked a little different. Very slight bags appeared under her eyes when none had existed previously. Her cheeks were a little puffier than they were normally, and her chin was beginning to get the faintest beginnings of doubling. Faint laugh lines decorated her cheeks. Jillian was only 21, but now she looked like she was nearly 30.
“Why didn’t you tell me I had gained this much weight?” Jillian said, staring down at her body. “Come on, you must have noticed,” she said, pointing to her slightly puffier upper arms and the beginnings of love handles on her waist.
“No, I didn’t, really,” replied Anthony, shocked.
“Well, I should just learn my lesson,” Jillian replied. “No more pigging out on sweet rolls. Don’t buy any more of those, ok? They just tempt me.”
“I seriously doubt you could have put on a noticeable amount of weight with one little binge…” Anthony began, but was cut off.
“Well, how else can you explain it, Anthony? Please, no more of those, ok?” she said in a panicky voice.
“Ok, ok.” Anthony said quickly. He looked into the mirror again, taking in his girlfriend’s new look. The more he thought about it, the more he found he didn’t mind the changes. They gave her more mature, distinguished look. And the weight didn’t hurt, either. She looked much healthier, much more like a woman that wasn’t afraid to cut loose and enjoy herself once in a while.
“If this gets worse, how will I even be able to do my job? I can’t be an aerobics instructor and be out of shape. That’s like being a dentist with bad teeth,” Jillian said.
“Hey, it’s not all bad,” Anthony said. “Look, your breasts are starting to get bigger, too. They barely fit in your bra.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want them to get too big. They might get soft and saggy. I’m way too young for that to happen,” Jillian said.
~
“So, your girlfriend enjoyed the AP, I take it? I can tell by looking that you weren’t the one to drink it,” the mysterious man with the strange accent replied when Anthony arrived at his booth at the market.
“What does it do, exactly?” Anthony asked, still not putting it together.
“Come on, buddy. You can’t fool me. You’re the kind of guy who reads the stories online, who thinks about when your girlfriend is out of town, come on. AP.”
“Age Progression,” Anthony said, slightly blushing. “Alright, well, how much for more?”
“Two hundred buck a pop,” the man said, his face breaking into a big grin.
“That’s outrageous,” Anthony said. “They were free yesterday!”
“Would you have paid that much for something that you didn’t know would work? Something that you hadn’t had a chance to see in action with your own eyes? Come on, this is my business model. Are you in or not?” The man asked impatiently.
“All right, all right,” Anthony conceded. “I’ll take two more.”
The man opened up his trench coat and produced two more vials filled with purple, fizzy liquid. “Have a good time,” he said as soon as the money was in his hand.
~
“Ugh, today was the worst,” Jillian said as she entered the apartment. “I was so tired, and felt so out of shape. I hope you got some more of that AP Elixir stuff. I really need some right now.”
“Uh, well, actually…” Anthony said, feeling a little guilty. Maybe, he thought to himself, he ought to explain what exactly AP Elixir did before she had more of it. She had the right to know what exactly she was getting into.
“Oh here it is,” she said excitedly. “Bottoms up!”
“Wait!” Anthony shouted. But it was too late: Jillian had already finished guzzling it down.
“Well, that was great! Really hit the spot,” Jillian said. “What’s wrong, Anthony? Why do you look so shocked? You bought them for me, didn’t you?”
“Uh, yeah, I did…” Anthony said after a few moments of hesitation.
“Well, come on then, I feel great now. My body feels all tingly,” Jillian said with a smile. Anthony now knew that the tingling was likely being caused by her cells preparing to age rapidly. “Stop staring at me like that, Anthony, you’re scaring me.” She leaned into her boyfriend, pressing her fleshier, softer body up against his. Anthony felt exhilarated by the feeling. As he started to imagine was happening to her, and what was going to happen, he could feel himself become rock hard.
“Let’s make love all night,” Jillian whispered in his ear as Anthony smiled.
~
It was Saturday the next morning, and both Jillian and Anthony had overslept. Anthony awoke first, his head partially buried in Jillian’s blonde, messy main of hair. He was surprised for a moment to notice a few strands of grey amongst the yellow, and knew that Jillian was bound to notice herself.
For a moment, he entertained a frantic idea of breaking or covering up every mirror in the house, but knew that she’d find out eventually. He only hoped that she wouldn’t be too angry at him over what he’d done. He figured it would be best for him to just come clean.
“Jillian – I’ve got something to say, and you’re probably not going to like it,” Anthony began.
“What is it, lover boy?” Jillian said as she roused herself and gave Anthony a little kiss on his forehead. She kept her lips planted for a moment, then swirled her tongue seductively.
“I found out what the AP stands for in AP Elixir. It’s age progression,” Anthony said nervously.
“Age progression?” Jillian asked. “What a minute…is that what happened to me yesterday?”
“Yesterday…and…today. You had more of that drink last night, you remember?” Anthony said.
“More? I guess I better be brave and take a look at the damage,” she said, pulling herself out of bed and giving Anthony an eyeful of her new body. Her breasts were certainly larger, but looked a bit softer and sagged a little towards her tummy, which was now quite poofy. It also sported some generous love handles, and would have created quite the muffin top if packed into tight jeans. As Jillian raised her arms up to play with her new gray hairs, Anthony could see her upper arms slightly jiggle with that distinctive “old lady arms” effect.
“Well, I’ve got to say,” Jillian began, “knowing what’s going on does take a lot of the stress off it.” She turned around to face him, and Anthony noticed a few more lines etched into her face. She looked like a woman who was clearly in her mid 30s. “So this is what I’ll look like when I’m older. I think I look good for my age.”
“Yeah,” Anthony said excitedly. “You’ve aged really well.”
“Wait, you said you found out what AP stood for yesterday. When yesterday?” Jillian asked.
“When I bought more of it,” Anthony replied sheepishly.
“So the guy who sold it explained it to you, and you bought more of it. Why?” Jillian asked, puzzled.
“Well, to be honest, when I saw the changes yesterday, I kind of liked them,” Anthony began. “I’ve always kind of liked older women. I think the look really suits you.”
“You do?” Jillian asked, sounding surprised. “Well, what about this excess weight? I guess older gals’ metabolisms do tend to slow down some.”
“I don’t mind that at all. You wear the pounds splendidly,” Anthony said. “So…you aren’t mad at me?”
“Well, I wish you had told me what was going on earlier, but no, I’m not mad,” Jillian said, eying her new looks in the mirror. “I am a pretty sexy older lady, aren’t I?”
“Yes you are,” Anthony said.
“Well, in that case,” Jillian said. “I just have one question for you.” She walked back onto the bed and wrapped her new, fleshy thighs around Anthony’s torso. “I noticed two potions in the refrigerator last night. I’m guessing dating a woman in her 30s isn’t exactly the end of your fantasy, now, is it?”
Anthony didn’t reply, merely gulping and shaking his head.
“Thought so. Why else would you have got two?” Jillian started to grind her new, softer torso up against his. “Let’s see. From what we’ve observed so far, each drink seems to add nearly 10 years. Would you like to add another 10 years to my body?”
Anthony nodded again, too consumed with lust to speak.
“Would you like me to be ten years older? Ten years flabbier, ten years fatter? Ten more years of mature lines on my face? Ten more years of gray hairs to bury your face in when we make love?” Jillian whispered seductively, and Anthony groaned in approval.
“I’m going to go drink some right now!” Jillian said, and ran down stairs. Anthony followed her, and he could see her hands shaking with excitement as she downed the last AP Elixir. Jillian’s body tingled furiously and her rounder cheeks sported a wide grin.
They made love, right on the kitchen counter, and after a few hours of waiting, the potion took its toll.
~
Jillian was definitely a woman in her mid 40s now. Her face was lined with crow’s feet, deep laugh lines, and tiny forehead wrinkles. Some of the wrinkles on her face, though, were clearly being hidden behind the new roundness of her face. Jillian’s cheeks were round and chubby, and she sported a double chin.
Her shoulders were wider and rounder than they had been before, leading into some beefy, very soft upper arms and jiggled with the slightest provocation. Her overall skin was slightly softer and had a little more give under his probing fingers, with just a few hints of age spots. Jillian’s breasts, once small and pert, were now large and sagged low on her chest. Under them was a large, proud potbelly that would stick out of any clothing. Jillian noted that “women her age” often start gaining weight around the middle.
Her hips were wide and thick, giving her the appearance of a woman who had pushed out her share of kids. Her thighs were round and incredibly soft and creamy, just heaven to be squeezed behind. Her hair now had significant grey spots.
“Anyone who sees us together will think you’re some big cougar hunter, if they don’t think I’m old enough to be your mom,” Jillian said playfully.
“You technically are, now,” he reminded her.
“Oh, hush,” Jillian said, her voice now even sounding a bit more mature and husky.
“Are you worried about your aerobics classes?” Anthony asked.
“Screw them,” Jillian said. “I think I get enough of a workout right at home,” she said seductively. They leaned close and shared a passionate kiss.
~~~
Did you enjoy this story? Then consider reading Older and Wiser.
Sophia Rossi is a struggling college freshman with an unrequited crush on her older friend. While at a cosplay convention, she meets a woman who sells her a "magic potion" that will supposedly solve her academic and romantic troubles. Of course, there is a price...This is a tale of erotic age progression and weight gain.
This is a sample chapter from Transformation TV.
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“Hector, you’re the patriarch of this family,” said Tandy, the blonde-haired, pint sized reporter for Transformation TV. “You’ve built something amazing with your Icy Garcia company. What’s the secret to your success?”
“Determination,” he said quickly, stroking his bearded chin. “When I was little, I had nothing. My family, we had nothing. We lived on a shack near the school. But every time I was made fun of, it only strengthened my stubborn resolve, that I’d make something of myself, create a different life for my family.”
“And now?”
“Now we are quite wealthy, and my daughter Josefina can spend her days carefree. She loves to play volleyball on the beach, and she’s always very popular because she’s so beautiful and because they respect my last name.”
“But that respect has taken a hit recently, correct? You lost a lawsuit this year...”
“They’re cheats and scum! They said I lied about the fat content in my ice cream. That it makes people get fat. But I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!”
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“And nobody knows about this?”
“You’re the first…”
~
Josefina leapt towards the sky, her long hair fluttering in the breeze and her hand nearly scraping the clouds as her arm swung wide. She spiked the volleyball into the sand, her tight, lean, regal frame strong and still as she landed.
“Nice one!” said her partner, Pedro.
“I agree,” said Jime, the man who hadn’t returned her serve.
“You should have dove for it,” said Deulla, Jime’s girlfriend. “You always let her win,” she added snidely. Deulla was nearly as thin and gorgeous as Josefina, but Josefina always got all the male attention.
“All that running around has made me really work up a sweat,” said Josefina. “I think I need to cool off the pool,” she said, referring to the majestic, waterfall-themed artificial grotto on her father’s estate. “Why don’t you swing by in a half hour, after, you know, I put my clothes back on?”
The words hung in the air for a moment as all three of them contemplated Josefina’s body in the buff - Jime and Pedro with abject lust, Deulla with more than a little jealousy.
~
Josefina arched her back against the cobblestone archway as she basked in the cool flow of the mist near the waterfall. A tiny, polka-dot bikini was all that clung to her body. Slender and toned, but with large breasts and a shapely rear, Josefina was immensely proud of her gorgeous figure and the attention she was able to command with it.
Josefina was used to getting anything that she wanted, and what she knew would make this perfect was an ice cream cone. A little bite, then a quick skinny dip in the pool - that was would be just fine.
Thanks to her father’s company, she’d been blessed by a limitless supply of ice cream for as long as she could remember. And thanks to her speedy metabolism and her habit of constantly playing and exercising at the beach, she’d been even more blessed to never gain a pound from it.
Josefina walked over to the built in freezer and pulled out a cone in the shape beer glass, filled it with an extra-creamy varietal called Quadruple Vanilla, then topped it with a generous amount of chocolate syrup. Then, she leaned back up against the archway. Ah, yes, she thought - perfect. Everything was exactly as it should be.
When Josefina’s tongue took that first, eager lap against the ice cream, though, she was surprised. This ice cream wasn’t the delicious flavor she was used to. It was...it was…so, so much better.
Josefina would have been certain that any substantive improvement on her family’s brand was impossible - how could one tamper with perfection? But this new flavor wasn’t just a feast for the senses. It made her lips and tongue tingle with delight as she swirled the globe of frozen cream around in her mouth.
When she swallowed it down, a pleasant, warm glow made its way down her throat, before settling in her gut and then radiating out towards the rest of her body. She’d never felt so euphoric, so happy, so alive, in her entire life.
She quickly grabbed a spoon and started scooping up large bites of the ice cream, tearing into it in earnest. As Josefina continued to eat, her body started to expand. First, her cheeks swelled outwards, giving her formerly angular face a more pleasant, welcoming, warm look. Her pointed chin vanished under huskier looking double chin.
Josefina’s breasts began to grow larger, and as they swelled, they pushed against the little triangles of her bikini, straining the fabric and causing it to dig tightly against her flesh. But Josefina didn’t notice. She was so rapturously consumed with eating the ice cream that nothing else existed.
As she finished, the pleasures made her weak in the knees, and she crumbled downwards. It was a hot day, and much of the ice cream had melted and lay in a pool at the bottom of the cone before she could scoop it up.
Not patient enough to gain tiny spoonfuls of the melted stuff manually, she closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and tilted the cone over her mouth. The melted goo spilled into her gaping maw, as well as running down her chin and then dripping down towards the rest of her body.
As Josefina swallowed the first gulp, her breasts finally pushed themselves free of her poor, overstrained bikini top. The little triangles of fabric were pressed to the sides of her growing frame, allowing her engorged mammaries to sit free and unencumbered on her chest. The cool, refreshing wave of melted ice cream rolled down onto them, causing her larger nipples to stiffen up and grow bigger still.
Next, the ice cream made its way down Josefina’s tummy, which was no longer flat and waspish but was growing wide and started to shape itself into a little pot belly. And as the melted cream made its way further south, Josefina couldn’t deny that she felt incredibly aroused.
Josefina used her free hand to untie her bikini bottom, which was already starting to feel tight and constricting due her widening hips. As she ran her fingers downwards, she could feel the unfamiliar swell of her gut against her hand, but she was too turned on to care. As the ice cream poured down her sex, she began to vigorously rub herself.
Meanwhile, as she lapped up the last of the melted cream, Josefina’s splayed thighs grew wider and meatier, forming a large crease where they met against her hips and causing the toned definition she’d built up to vanish completely. The softer flesh now trembled at the slightest touch, and indeed as Josefina enthusiastically touched herself the flab that encased her thighs began to jiggle like mad.
Josefina’s little pot belly began to swell, and then fold over her hand and wrist, though she certainly wasn’t trying to move her hand away. A second upper belly formed and then folded over the first, giving her two distinctive rolls which wrapped all the way around her waist and connected to the plumpness of her hips and back.
As Josefina buried her rounder face in the cone, her long tongue skating inside to lap up the last bits of cream, her breasts continued their expansion. Her breasts growing outwards until they consumed nearly half of her torso, the firm, beautiful torpedoes still sitting proudly on top of the little shelf of her upper belly. They were large and heavy enough that they pressed against the sides of her frame and created yet another little roll that seemed to tuck under her arms - which, meanwhile, had swelled into decidedly husky proportions.
Josefina groaned as she climaxed, her body shaking and quivering and little droplets of melted ice cream flying everywhere. The manic high her body was experiencing finally peaked and then quickly ebbed away. As she began to catch her breath, Josefina glanced down at herself - and screamed.
She’d turned into a fat, disgusting whale! What the hell had happened!? She’d felt some unusual textures and sensations from her body while she was gorging, no doubt about that, but how could one ice cream cone possibly do this much damage?
That’s when Josefina remembered she’d invited her friends over - what in the hell would they think? Josefina knew she had to text them to cancel. Her phone was on the other side of the long pool, so she slowly waded into the water to get it.
“Josefina?” Deulla called out. “There’s somebody in your pool!”
“Wait - oh, my God, I think that’s her!” said Pedro, as Josefina tried her best to cover herself up with her arms. Due to her increased girth, this was proving more of a challenge than she anticipated.
“It is!” agreed Jime.
Deulla silently smirked. If the huge, rotund woman wading through the water was indeed Josefina - and she couldn’t deny the uncanny resemblance - then all her prayers had been answered. Her biggest - no pun intended - rival had been toppled.
“Wow, Josefina...you’re...you’re…” Pedro sputtered.
“Just say it, get it out of your system,” Josefina begged him, closing her eyes and preparing for the name calling and the laughter that she knew would be coming next.
“You’re sexier than ever!” shouted Jime.
“That’s just what I was going to say!” said Pedro. “I can’t believe it! Whatever you’re doing, it is working great!”
“What!?” Josefina and Deulla said at the same time, in opposite tones of voice.
“I’m sexy?” Josefina asked, monetarily stunned. “Well, yes, of course I’m sexy!” she quickly recovered. The only thing more massive than Josefina’s body was her giant ego, and now that the men in her life loved her, her earlier insecurities melted away like cheap ice cream in the sun.
Both Pedro and Jime jumped into the pool with their clothes on, eager to get a closer look at the plump vixen.
“Have you two lost your minds?” Deulla asked. “She’s a cow!”
“Look at those breasts!” said Pedro. “May I?” he asked, and Josefina nodded as he gently stroked the sides of them.
“I love that big tummy,” said Jime, as he poked at her sunken belly button.
“You’ve always loved sports, Josefina - what will you do now?” Pedro asked.
“How about...wrestling!” she said, charging forwards and causing water to splash in her wake. She used the momentum generated by her massive mass to push him backwards. Pedro tried to fight back, but Josefina wrapped her arms around his back and leaned forwards, taking total control. Both had huge grins on their faces as they sank under the water.
“Jime, come on,” Deulla said, as she pulled him back. “What is this, just because she’s rich, you’re willing to say or do anything to get with her?” she whispered.
“She’d be just as sexy even if she didn’t have a peso to her name,” Jime replied. “And, for the record, you could stand to gain a few pounds yourself.”
Josefina and Jime surfaced in time to hear this, her wide grin reached impossibly large proportions. She knew she could lend Deulla a hand by telling her about the ice cream, but she wouldn’t mention that to her for the world. Right now, all eyes were glued to Josefina, just as they should be, she thought.
Thank you for watching this paid Advertorial. Your experience using Icy Garcia products may differ.
Transformation TV has dozens of transformation stories of all kinds. Get it on Amazon today!
Embers in the Frost
At least, I thought that was it. A compulsive gambler wishes to always win, but he fails to do so. A perfectionist needs to be satisfied, yet they never will. And I desired companionship, though that too was near impossible.
It was this thought that helped ruin the start of what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. That old saying – when one is hungry, everyone looks like lemon custard, or however it goes – proved itself to me then, as it did often.
Loneliness, my particular affliction, affected all areas of my perception. The kissing couple in the seat ahead of me? An unpleasant reminder of my love life, or lack thereof. The couple fighting in the seat behind me? Proof that even if I did find a relationship, I still might not be completely happy. That woman who refused to acknowledge me on the way in? A testament to my own unappealing nature. The cute attendee that smiled at me as I got to my seat? Just a company policy of friendliness. She wouldn’t smile at me unless she was paid to do it.
There are, of course, many people who suffer as I do, or worse. And there are many different methods they employ to help ease their suffering. There is alcohol, drugs, self-mutilation, fervent religious belief, reckless risk-seeking, and binge eating. My favored method of dealing with the pain of reality was simply distracting myself from it. No, not distracting myself from the pain, distracting myself from reality. In moments of inner reflection, I can contemplate life and how it progresses from the perspective of an outsider. The pain and injustice of the world appears only theoretical as I distance myself from anything that exists outside the boundaries of my mind. Meanwhile, the time I spend in my head distracts me from noticing anything else disturbing the world around me.
I gave that world a cautious glance, not desiring to draw too much of it in. Ah, time for our servers to bring us our evening meal. I barely noticed the food as I thought about where the silverware was made. Perhaps China. If so, it was almost certainly made under labor conditions that were questionable at best viewed from a first-world country’s perspective. Were the workers resentful or were they pleased that they had some form of employment, even a poor one? Should a U.S. company that hires Chinese workers be responsible for complying with both Chinese and U.S. labor laws? Would China restrict trade to America if we were to enact such a policy? How much would that impact our economy?
This was a waste of my time, as everything was. But even as I was on vacation, even as I had mastery over my own mind and my own personal state of affairs, I was unhappy. Part of me had been unhappy so long that it was simply accepted. It was simply an unavoidable infection, like a reoccurring cancer or a cold sore on the lip.
After my meal, I train in vain to sleep. The demons of insomnia tormented me often, and this appeared to be no exception.
~
A sudden jolt awakened me from my slumber. The seat of the train appeared to be giving way from under me, and before I could react, I fell through the floor and onto the tracks. Like an angry beast, the train roared over me, barely missing my fortunately thin frame. A few moments later, and the train was gone.
Still shaken and in pain, I pulled myself to my feet to discover that there was no sight of civilization. There were a few faded green trees on the hills, and the trail of tracks ahead of me and behind. Aside from that, everything was buried.
It was as if a great, Asian Tsunami had wandered off course, discovered the climate of North America, and perished before it had the chance to turn back. There wasn’t so much snowfall as there was simply a wall of snow that began several feet below where I stood. As it was still falling, the wall appeared to reach towards the sky, obstructing my vision and my breath. Without any supplies or snow gear, the walls of snow had me trapped. I knew I’d almost certainly be unable to move within a few minutes and perish within a few hours.
At the time, it did not occur to me that my typical miserable self would take some small amount of pleasure in the end of my suffering. All I wanted then was to live, to feel warm air in my lungs, to somehow find deliverance. Not being a religious man, I took no comfort in prayer, though I did attempt to stand and walk as far as I could before I fell.
Although the pain was excruciating, I did not feel myself losing strength as I slowly trudged through the tundra. A few yards later, I was musing the final signs of hypothermia when I saw her.
A woman was standing on a bank of snow, her hands placed firmly on her hips in a show of defiance. More startling than the appearance of another human being was her attire: she was dressed in skimpy, summer clothes, barely covering her flesh. Yet, her cheeks were not rosy with the cold, and as I approached nearer, her flesh was not wrinkled in goosebumps. She was almost painfully thin, her ribs and shoulders pinching and pulling her artificially tan skin.
“What’s the matter?” she asked with an air of condescension. “Can’t make it out here?” I felt too stunned to answer. We were dying, or at least I was, and her one thought is to mock me?
I quickly put my pride aside and realized that I had to find some way of emulating this woman’s cold-resistant secret if I was to survive. I took a deep breath and tried to shout a response to her, despite the fact that her soft voice had strangely no trouble permeating the storm.
“Whatever you’re doing to keep yourself warm, I want to do it!” The mysterious woman tossed her head back and cackled. Her laugh was both softly feminine and sinisterly malicious, and sent a stronger chill down my spine than the cold.
“What makes you think I’m surviving any better you?” I pondered the statement, and the impossible situation at hand. Before I could reach any reasonable explanation, she spoke again. “Do you really think I can save you? I’m not smart, I’m not nice, but beauty, well…”
I shook my head. “No, you could not save me. Nor do you possess beauty of any kind.” She nodded slowly, her thin lips creasing in a smile.
“Perhaps, then, there is a different girl in this snowstorm who will save you.” With that statement, she hung her head and hunched her shoulders sullenly. For a moment, there was a flash of light, and although I was physically still standing only a few feet from her, I felt as if she was fading away.
As my eyes adjusted, I noticed that her complexion was quickly changing, first becoming nearly as pale and wan as the snow, then becoming faintly red with the cold. Her main of hair changed from peroxide blonde to a deep chocolate. Her tiny, diamond face become softer and more delicate.
The near-starved body of mainstream beauty also changed. Angular, protruding bones disappeared under a thin layer of healthy-looking flesh. A softer, rounder girl emerged, one perhaps still pretty in the eyes of most but now lacking the look of self-denial.
The changes did not stop there. The outfit that had clothed her earlier seemed to be replacing itself with baggier, bulkier clothes, which served both to better protect one from the cold and hide their body shape. And that shape was still in flux. The girl who only a few minutes ago could have modeled for a magazine now would only appear in a plus sized catalogue. The baggy jeans and sweatshirt she was now wearing prevented me from seeing exactly how big she was, but it was clear that she would probably be looked down upon by most at her current size.
My observation of her transformation suddenly ended as her eyes fluttered open. Darker eyes stared at me, from under darker, thicker eyebrows. Her posture was no longer confident, but now slouched and self conscious.
“Where are we? I’m so cold…” Her voice, now slightly deeper and far more serious sounding, was nevertheless far harder to hear over the roar of snow. As I prepared to answer her as best I could, I saw a cabin on the hills right behind her that I was certain wasn’t there before. I pointed to it and told her that we should get out of this weather quickly. As we walked, she stumbled, and I grabbed a hold of her hand to steady her balance.
We did not break the link until we were at the door of the small cabin, which surprisingly, knocked at us before we could knock on it.
~
“Sir? Sir? We have arrived.” My head jolted forwards, only to hit the roof of my cabin. I was back in the train, and the knocking door was the door to the train’s corridor.
I swore out loud, partly from the head pain but mainly because the dream was over. That dream would probably be the best thing that happened to me my entire trip, and now it was gone forever.
~
The name of my city was as irrelevant as the name of the company that provided me my pouch of peanuts during my travel towards it. It was small, and it was northern, and it was mine. Each winter I could count on not being bothered. Each winter, I could appreciate the natural beauty of the country environment, and I could find some small measure of inner peace.
This particular visit, however, was marred with feeling of unease and anxiety. My vivid dream had made me feel more lonely and troubled than ever, and the snow was nearing the levels of my dreamscape. It wasn’t until I was settled into my usual cabin that I was able to finally repel the cold, but that was replaced with a far deadlier emotion.
One additional motivation to getting away from the city was that it was a prime spot do some writing. I did academic articles for a few magazines on philosophy, and usually the silence helped me come up with ideas. The panicky, constrictive feeling of writer’s block was already taking hold of me, and I hadn’t even resided in my little dwelling for more than 30 minutes.
After a few more agonizing minutes, I decided to pay a visit to the chain coffee shop and receive some caffeine. Perhaps then I’d be able to snap myself out of it, I thought to myself.
~
It was at the coffee shop that it happened. After obtaining my cup of tea, I began to look for a place to sit down – and I saw her.
It wouldn’t be accurate to say that I saw her immediately. My eye caught her for a moment, and my mind registered a remarkably good looking woman for a few moments, and I moved on. Then, as if I was transported back to my dream, I realized that this was in fact the same woman.
Too afraid of, well, reality itself and its new nature, I timidly sat at the table nearest my current position and contented myself with only gazing at her. One sure sign of an insecure woman is when being eyed, she’ll always take a quick glace behind her, as she imagines there must be some beautiful woman directly behind her that’s being admired.
When I saw that she was preparing to leave, I finally summoned up my courage and curiosity. I made my way to her table, trying my best to seem nonchalant and friendly. In that aim, I’m almost certain that I failed.
“Hi, I’m Jason…noticed you were sitting alone, and thought you might want someone to talk to.” My voice sounded tight and false, but it was the best I could do.
“I’m Brandi…and…uh…” I decided to interrupt, hoping to pre-empt her untimely exit.
“I did notice thought that you seemed just about ready to go. I don’t want to keep you if you are in a hurry to get somewhere…is that what’s happening or do you have a few minutes to chat?” She shook her head, then sighed in apparent frustration.
“No, I mean, yeah I have time.” We chatted for a while, and my focus quickly became less on deciphering my dream and more on wanting to get to know Brandi. The dream could have been some kind of omen or prophecy, but the Brandi in front of me now was undeniably real.
There is a lot to be said for human interaction, when it works right. It brings happiness, hope, and inspiration. The emptiness inside seems to vanish, if only for a little while.
~
We met the next day, and the next, and the next. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Brandi was the kindest soul I had ever known. Never did I hear a word of anger or resentment leave her mouth. Never was there undeserved judgment or ill-will.
She was a high school English teacher, and astounded me with her intellectual prowess with literature and other forms of the written word. My writers block quickly vanished when she gave me a few inspiriting suggestions.
It was partly my respect and admiration for Brandi that kept me from asking her certain questions. There was nothing I feared more than somehow making a blunder and scaring her away. This fear was beaten back when I decided to finally tell her about the dream.
The morning was strangely warm, and the snow was slushy enough to trudge through with proper shoes. Brandi’s idea was to hike together to a scenic area, now that the weather was permitting it, at least for today.
“Brandi, can I make a somewhat unusual inquiry?” We had known each other only for about a week, but she was already able to pick up on some of my social cues. The tightness of my voice must have given it away, for she looked at me with a puzzled look for a second.
“Sure, go ahead, it’s your prerogative.” Under normal circumstances, I’d be basking in the glow of Brandi’s voice, which carried a rich, almost tonal quality. It was a slightly deep and sultry, but at the same time had a pleasant feminine lilt. Or, perhaps I’d enjoy the rarity of meeting another individual who used words like “prerogative” in casual conversation. At that moment, I was thinking about the dream and how to describe it.
“The night before first met, um…well…”
“Oh, yeah? I had wanted to discuss it earlier, I had a very remarkable dream.” I stared at her wide-eyed. “I found myself stranded on a hill, surrounded by a lake of magma. Every second, my island of dirt was getting smaller and smaller. As the lava got closer to me, I saw that it was carrying many dead bodies and I knew I would join them in the next few minutes.”
“What did you do?” I asked as she turned her head skyward.
“Well, I started looking up towards the sky, and there was a giant eagle soaring up there safely. I suddenly had a desire to follow him, and I jumped up in the air. I felt myself getting lighter and lighter, and I saw that I was transforming into a bird myself. The two of us soared above the lava, until we reached a small building in a nearby, unscathed forest. We started to become people again, but…I woke up.”
“That’s an amazing coincidence,” I began, “because I had a somewhat similar dream that same night.”
“Well, go ahead,” she said, and I tried my best to recount the events of my unconscious adventure.
~
“So you had exactly the opposite dream I had?”
I quickly shook my head. “How did you get that idea?”
“Well in my dream, to escape a dilemma, I had to make a positive transformation. In your dream, I made a negative one.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Jason. I started out pretty and ended up…like this. That’s about as negative as you can get.”
“No, it’s not. You’re very pretty.” At this, she loudly scoffed.
“Yah, right.” For a few moments, we trudged in silence, avoiding eye contact. “You want to see pretty? Look at this.” We stepped out of the cover of the trees, arriving at our destination.
A large canyon carved through the landscape below us, dotted green with trees under the white blanket of snow. The canopy stretched off into the horizon, almost as if the landscape was melting into the clouds and connecting to the sky itself.
“That…that is beautiful,” Brandi started with a tear in her eye. “I’ve been ugly my whole life.” I started to speak up, but she cut me off. “Jason, you’re a great guy and I’m glad I’ve finally met a man who’s liked my intelligence. But please stop with the fake compliments, ok? Everybody else sees the same thing that I do when I look in the mirror and most have let me know at some point.”
There was a small vantage point bench, and we parked ourselves on it. The air between us hung with a frostier chill than any brought about by the winter, and for quite a while, nobody said a word.
Eventually, I spoke up. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“No, it’s just…just a touchy subject with me,” Brandi said after she let out a sigh.
As I gazed at her, I felt a sudden need for are more personal, physical intimacy. Yes, she was attractive, but my feelings were far beyond that. I wanted to hold her when she needed to cry, or have her do the same for me in my times of need. I wished to wander around my house and know that if I wanted, I could run up to her and greet her with a loving embrace whenever I so desired. I yearned to appreciate, to cuddle, to love the warmth of her being.
What saddened me, and caused me to turn my head towards the distinctly less moving scenic view, was that I knew there would be impediments to this. She was, as of now, probably too uncomfortable with herself to allow someone else to feel good about her. She also was probably not all that interested in me, few girls, if any, ever had been. It struck me as inherently wrong and unjust that these problems should exist, because I had never found anyone quite like her. I knew that should we grow apart, my return to hopelessness might very well be a permanent one.
As I adjusted my posture, however, I saw her looking towards me, and perhaps a little too quickly turn her head away. I kept my eyes on her, waiting for her to look towards me again.
I wasn’t disappointed; she was staring at me again, and this time our eyes locked. There was a certain look of pleading within those deep, brown irises.
“Do you…” she stopped herself, then began again. “Do you really think I’m pretty? Just, be honest.”
“You’re amazing. You’re a rose in a desert. You’re an ember in the frost.” The fire I had alluded to began to show in her cheeks as her face flushed. At first, she choked back a small sob, then she smiled.
“Thanks. You’re the…well nobody…You’re cute too, by the way.” I scooted myself a bit closer to her. “You’re….you’re….well…” Our lips met before she could finish. I felt myself melt at the sensation of her soft lips upon mine, and my skin tingled as we kissed.
We pulled our arms around each other and pulled our bodies close as the kiss grew hungrier. My entire mouth felt glowing, and my mind felt on the verge of bursting with happiness.
When we broke the kiss, we were panting and giggling like kids. Our eyes locked together for a few more minutes, and then Brandi spoke.
“I was going to say you’re comet in an empty sky…but that doesn’t come close to doing you justice” I smiled, not my usual smile of politeness, nor my calculated smile of false happiness, but a rare, genuine smile. The corners of my mouth almost seemed to be buoyed up by recent events and unable to come back down.
~
There was a certain level of newfound confidence in Brandi from that day forward. It wasn’t just a brighter smile or a swing in her step. Her entire composure had changed. The old shame and hesitancy seemed gone, replaced with noticeable pride in herself. When I pointed this out to her, she mentioned how she had noticed a similar change in myself, though I certainly wouldn’t have ever guessed it on my own.
One night, at my cabin, her newfound confidence was expressed to me in a new way.
“You know, I’ve been thinking some more about that dream you had…tell me again about how my little metamorphosis was a good thing.” I started to talk about the different tastes of beauty, but she put her finger to my lips.
“No, Jason….” She walked towards me, and positioned her body close to mine. “Tell me why I’m…sexy.” I was silent for an awkward moment, not fully knowing what to say.
“I’ve felt embarrassed my whole life, but you’ve given me some looks the last few days…and, I like it.” I barely knew where to begin, but I could try.
“You’re sexy because you’re soft, perfect to hug, to cuddle, to caress…” As I said those words, her tank top came off, revealing her large breasts straining her braw and her gentle looking tummy spilling over her pants. As she stepped even closer to me, I noticed her shoulders were slightly wider than mine. “You’re also sexy because you’re strong…you’re bigger than me, your frame is larger than mine…you have a strong mind…strength is sexy, too.”
“You know what’s sexy about you?” She undid the clasps of her bra, and her large breasts bounced free. “You’re able to admit all that…most guys aren’t into their feelings at all, especially not those kind.”
My eyes, still mesmerized by her bosom, didn’t notice her hands moving towards my shirt. Quickly, she ripped it open, and then discarded it.
“Your body, too…sexy…” I was pretty thin for a man, and didn’t see myself what was sexy about it. “A buff guy carries so much stigma of aggression and anger…but a skinny guy…he’s cute…masculine, but vulnerable.”
We met in a kiss, not innocent or magical like our first, but almost feral and animalistic. My hands started to cup her bountiful breasts, and as I gently pinched her nipple, she slightly bit down on my lower lip.
We almost tripped and fell in mutual surprise, but we quickly made our way to the bedroom and started to rapidly remove the rest of our clothes. Our bodies rolled together, and her feminine softness pressing down upon me was indescribably blissful. Time seemed to blur as we made love, and when it was over, we were holding each other and crying with joy.
No further words needed to be spoken. I started to fall asleep in the arms of my Goddess, completely content for the first time in my life. I knew then that I never would leave her, that nothing would ever destroy our bond.
These are the moments of possibility, I now realize, that are the embers in the frost of life of which one truly dreams. They are the moments that one desires feverishly in moments of bleakest despair. They seem impossible, and yet, we know they are not in our hearts. They are the dreams capable of becoming reality that make the rest of life worth living.
As I now enjoy life with my Goddess I cry out to my fellow mortals, "Let us never surrender these dreams, for they are all that is good within us and our existence."
When college pals Skyler, Miranda, Judy are suddenly thrust back in time to 1952, everything about their world turns upside down. But what they weren't expecting was for their personalities to flip to suit the changing times! As the decades pass, conservative Skyler slowly become a cougar hippie, while liberal feminist Judy becomes a reactionary housewife and athlete Miranda becomes a secretary dedicated to sleeping her way to the top. This is an erotic age progression transformation story with a focus personality changes, and also includes weight gain.
