The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bleached

Part 1

“I swear, Simon, are we really going to have this argument again?”

“It’s important to me, Kim! Do you have any idea how stressful this promotion has been? I didn’t think a little empathy would be too much to ask of my girlfriend, but I guess I was wrong!” Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly in an attempt to calm himself.

“You’re asking me to give up everything I’m working toward! For something so trivial!” I turned away from him, throwing my hands up in disgust. “We knew this would happen, Simon. We knew it would be hard.”

“Yeah, well…” Simon’s voice was softer now, defeated. “I guess I thought we meant more to each other,” he murmured. “I didn’t think we’d have to fight over whether or not we’d spend time together.”

He was trying to guilt me. Again. I chewed the inside of my cheek, biting back a rude retort as I turned back to face him. “I love you, Simon, you know that. I shouldn’t have to explain that to you, but here we are.” I crossed my arms, trying to control my temper. “We both have jobs, I’m almost finished with school; can you really not wait a little longer?”

“No…no, I didn’t mean—” He sighed, pulling his glasses from his face and polishing them while he composed his thoughts. “I respect your drive, Kim, it’s one of your best qualities, but…”

“Yeah?” I raised my eyebrows impatiently, waiting for his brilliant response.

He set his glasses on the kitchen counter, meeting my gaze with hard eyes. “How many days have we spent with each other this last month?”

I shook my head in disbelief, rolling my eyes. “Oh, come on, like I’m really—”

“Two, Kim. Two days.” Silence filled the room as Simon stared at me.

“Well, that’s beca—”

“We live together, Kim.” The tone of his voice sucked the anger right out of me; I could see his eyes glassing over. “We fucking live together and we never even see each other.”

“Oh, Simon…” I began, but he wasn’t having it. Not tonight.

“I bust my ass to get off work early, just so I can have a chance to see my girlfriend, maybe even take her to dinner.” Bitterness crept into his words. “Oh! But where is she? Out studying with Patricia again, for the second week in a row? Or maybe working late for her piece-of-shit boss? Heaven forbid you take a day off, Kim!”

I took a step back, shocked. We had been dating for almost four years; I could count the times I had seen Simon angry on one hand, but I had never seen him like this before. Not even close. “Oh, honey, I had no idea…” I tried to put my arms around him, but he shoved my hands away, shaking his head.

“No,” he whispered icily, “No, I can’t talk about this anymore. Not tonight.” He stepped past me stiffly, avoiding my gaze as he slipped out of the kitchen, heading toward the bedroom. I braced myself, expecting him to slam the door; instead, the door clicked shut quietly behind him, and that felt infinitely worse.

* * *

“I think I really hurt him, Patricia,” I whispered, carefully watching the opening to my cubicle.

There was a long pause over the phone. “Yeah, that’s sounds rough, but…don’t you think he’s overreacting a little?”

“I thought so too, at first,” I said slowly, “But after he told me what it was like for him…I-I don’t know…Maybe I shoul—” I stopped short as heavy footsteps thudded around the corner of her cubicle. “I have to go!”

“Wait! Are we still on for this afternoon?”

“Yes!” I hissed, hastily dropping the phone onto its receiver.

“You’re aware that personal calls are considered a misuse of company time, right, Ms. Kilner?”

“Yes, Mrs. Owens, sorry,” I replied, smiling apologetically to the woman standing just outside my workspace. Vicky Owens was short, squat, and dour; it was common knowledge around the office was that she had once stapled an intern’s punch-card to his forehead when he lied to her about being late. There was no bullshitting this woman. “It won’t happen again,” I assured.

“No, I imagine it won’t,” Mrs. Owens responded curtly. “It seems to me that your inbox is quite full, Ms. Kilner. I’d be sure to keep busy if I were you.” Raising her eyebrows skeptically, she continued down the hallway, no doubt trying to catch someone else off guard.

I turned back to my desk, eyeing the pile of paperwork sitting on my inbox with distaste. I grabbed one and began to fill out the rest of the form, only half paying attention. My thoughts found their way back to the night before, to the way Simon had looked at me just before he stormed off. We had slept apart last night too, the first time in four years. I felt the tears coming and before I knew what was happening I was choking back sobs, trying to muffle the sound into the sleeves of my sweater.

My career was important to me, but Simon meant so much more. He was firm, my rock, and always so sensitive; whether I needed advice or just some comforting, Simon was there. He was the one. If he ever broke up with me… Tears gushed out of me at the thought. “Oh, easy girl, easy,” I sniffed; it wasn’t that bad. At least, not yet. There was still time to make things right with Simon, I just needed to shift some of my priorities. Relationships were all about making compromises, right?

* * *

I met Patricia downtown a few hours later, after my shift had ended. She had offered to take me on a ladies’ day out, just to take my mind off of the fight for a while. We had been best friends since sixth grade; we knew each other so well, we were practically sisters. I found her waiting for me just outside a recently opened salon, a rather gaudy looking establishment called “Bleached.”

Standing at about 5′4″, Patricia was a few inches shorter than myself, with lively green eyes and honey blonde hair. She was by no means fat, but she did seem to carry most of her weight in her midsection, leaving little curvature for the rest of her body. Of the two of us, I was the thin one, but only because I always made time to work out regularly.

“Hey, Kim,” Patricia chirped, smiling. “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m alright,” I lied, giving her a quick hug. “I just…It was a big fight, Patricia.” I looked down at my hands, forcing myself to push the negative thoughts away, at least for now.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She grabbed my hands, studying me with concern.

“Actually, yes, Patricia, there is something you can do,” I said, brightening. “You can take me into that salon and tell them to scrub my troubles away!”

Patricia cracked a smile, nodding. “If that doesn’t do the trick, I don’t know what will!” She opened the door and tugged at my hands, pulling me inside. A loud tone jingled happily as we stepped through the doorway, announcing our presence. A desk sat just beyond the entrance, backed by a long, narrow row of salon seats, all of which we currently occupied. The woman at the front desk looked up at us and smiled, gesturing for us to have a seat by the long shop window while we waited for two booths to become available.

Patricia sat down opposite me, suddenly looking very business-like. “So, what do we want to do? Just a manicure and pedicure?”

“That sounds fine to me,” I answered, shrugging. “Why, did you have something else in mind?”

“Well,” Patricia bit her lip, “I was thinking about dying my hair. Like, really dying it. Black.” She looked uncertain, waiting for my reaction.

My eyes flicked toward her blonde hair. I furrowed my brow, trying to imagine such a contrasting change in color. “I guess I could see that,” I said after a moment.

“You paused. No good?” She fiddled with a lock of hair self-consciously. “I thought it would be interesting…”

“No, no,” I said quickly, “I just had to visualize it. It’ll look good on you, Patricia.” A thought struck me. “In fact, let’s switch. You go black, I’ll go blonde, just to mix it up. Deal?”

“Hell yeah!” Patricia smiled, confidence restored. “Hm, what nail color goes best with black?” she asked, inspecting her fingertips.

“We’re ready for you ladies, if you’ll step right over here please.” The desk attendant was standing, pointing us toward the salon booths. “We couldn’t get seats together unfortunately, is that alright?”

“It’s fine.”

“No worries!”

The young woman smiled. “Wonderful. There is a seat available here in the front,” she pointed, “And the second seat is toward the back. Enjoy!”

Patricia took the front, while I made my way down the row to the farther chair. Fashioned from classic barber’s chairs, a variety of instruments stuck out at odd angles; each seat looked like something Dr. Frankenstein might have created. The most notable device was a large metallic cone protruding from the top of the headrest, with long black wires running from the tapered end into the base of the seat.

A willowy older woman with steel-grey hair was waiting for her at the vacant booth, smiling pleasantly. “I’m June and I’ll be taking care of you today. Please, have a seat.” I sat, facing the mirror across from me as the woman inspected my hair, getting a feel for it.

“How are you today, my dear?” she asked, glancing down at me.

“I’m good, and you?”

“Doing very well, thank you.” June walked around the chair to face me, leaning on the counter in front of the mirror. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Uhm, manicure, pedicure, and a bit of styling, I think.” I was kind of regretting agreeing to bleach my hair, but it was too late to back out on Patricia now.

“No problem, dear; what kind of style were you looking for?”

“I’m not too picky, I wanted to try the blonde look though. Do you think it’ll be okay?” I asked uncertainly.

June brushed at my hair again, nodding. “Yeah, hon, you’ll look beautiful. I have some ideas on how we can set it, too.” She stood up and walked around me again, making adjustments to the chair height. “Ready?”

“Here we go,” I muttered, “So long, black hair.” A low hum filled my ears as the salon chair powered up.

I heard June chuckle behind me. “Don’t worry, you’ll look stunning when I’m done with you.” Lithe fingers pulled gently at my scalp, gathering my air into one long strand. I watched in the mirror while June pulled it up into a bun and gently lowered the conical contraption onto my head.

“Er, what does that thing do exactly?” I asked, eyeing the machine distrustfully. “I’ve never had my hair bleached this way before.”

“It’s just a faster way to get the job done, my dear. The days of sitting around with smelly chemicals in your hair is a thing of the past.” The hairdresser fiddled with the helmet, making sure it fit snugly before turning it on.

“Oh!” I gasped, startled. A violent tug yanked my head back a bit, suctioning the base of the cone down around my forehead. I could feel my hair tumbling around within while the machine chugged away quietly, teasing my hair like a taffy puller.

“Okay, all set!” June smiled, clapping her hands. “Now, let’s work on those nails! What color were you thinking, sweetie?”

“With blonde?” I thought for a moment. Normally, I would have suggested a dark color to go with my raven hair, but I hadn’t considered what would go with the bleached look. “Hm. Pink, I guess, unless you have a better idea?” I tried to turn my head toward June, but the pressure from the cone didn’t leave much room for movement.

“Sounds lovely, let me get my kit ready.” June headed toward the back of the room. “Just try to relax, dear, I won’t be long!” she called.

I eased back, settling into my seat while the helmet massaged deeper into my roots. I tried to relax my shoulders, but I couldn’t quite manage it. Simon. I couldn’t stop thinking about how we had left off last night. And now, here I was, getting a manicure while my relationship crumbled beneath my feet. I sighed as a fresh wave of guilt washed over me.

“Something wrong, hon?” June’s voice floated from behind me. I followed her in the mirror as she returned to the counter and began setting up her nail kit. She winked as her reflection’s eyes met mine. “They say talking about it helps.”

Despite my gloomy thoughts, an appreciative smile crossed my lips. “It’s just relationship stuff,” I answered vaguely, shrugging like it was no big deal.

“Oh, boy troubles, dear?” The hairdresser pulled up a stool and slipped off my sandals, taking a file to my toenails. “We got some time, hon, if you want to tell me about it. Maybe I can help?”

‘More like, you just want to hear some drama,’ I thought to myself. If my forehead wasn’t being eaten by a metal road cone, I might have furrowed my eyebrows in disgust. As it was, they were being forcibly pulled upward, making it look like I was in a constant state of surprise. I opened my mouth to tell her I’d rather keep my issues to myself. Instead, I found myself divulging every detail of our fight with this stranger. By the time I had finished, June had managed to finish my pedicure and was just starting on my fingernails.

“Well, it seems to me like he’s having a rough time at work, hon. How would you feel if you worked all day and you never got a chance to see your boyfriend?”

I stared at her for a moment, trying to work around my disbelief. She was agreeing with him? “I do work all day, June. Not only that, I take night classes. I exercise. I have goals of my own, you know.”

“Oh, I’m not necessarily taking his side.” She pulled out a bottle of bright pink nail polish and applied it carefully along my fingernails. “I just think you need to empathize with him a little. Let him know that you’re listening when he tells you these things.”

“I am listening,” I insisted. “I-woah, is that normal?” I pointed to the bleaching apparatus, which was now billowing out steam in small spurts above my head.

The hairdresser looked up and chuckled. “Yes, it’s supposed to do that. It’s almost finished.”

Even as she said that, I felt the rhythm of the machine change as the tugging sensation was replaced by short electrical pulses. “It feels…weird…” I mumbled, feeling my head grow heavy. Blood pounded in my ears, beating in time with the electrical signals. June was saying something, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. “What was that?” I asked, blinking slowly.

“I said, you should try it his way for a while.” She had moved on to my other hand. “Just take a break from your hobbies and spend a little more time with Simon. It’s an act of good faith, dear; it’ll show him that the relationship is still important to you.”

“How would that work? I can’t just tell my boss I’m going to take the month off,” I countered.

“Hm. Well, love finds a way, sweetie.” June applied the final coat and stood up, capping the nail polish. “All finished! We’ll just give that a few minutes to dry. Your hair should be done by then, too! Just think about what I suggested, dear,” she added as she walked off to return the kit to the back room.

I frowned, thoroughly put out. Was it too much to ask for me to have my own life? I winced as the electric pulses sped up across my scalp. No, that wasn’t fair. I knew that’s not what Simon had meant. I felt kind of warm. Maybe June was on to something; I just needed to hear what Simon had to say. To really listen. The room was spinning. Just listen to Simon…whatever Simon says…

“Okay, all done!” June sang, pressing a button on the seat. I sat up abruptly, blinking at the sound of a faint whirring, and suddenly the pressure around my head was gone. A curtain of golden locks fell across my face, obscuring my view of the mirror. I felt June’s steady hands working along the back of my head, styling my newly bleached hair until I could see again.

“Oh wow,” I breathed, staring at my reflection. The girl who stared back was not the same one who had first sat in the chair. Light blonde hair flowed along my shoulders and down my back, impeccably straight, leaving no indication that it had once been dark and wavy. Cute bangs covered my forehead, stopping just short of my eyebrows. “That machine really works,” I whispered incredulously, stroking my feathery soft hair.

“Do you like it?” June asked, grinning. She offered me a hand, pulling me up and out of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, just like you said! It makes my nails really pop!” I marveled, flashing my bubblegum pink fingertips at her. “Thank you, June, you did a wonderful job.”

“It was my pleasure, dear, no trouble at all. Come see me again when you need it redone!” She pointed me back to the front desk to pay, though I made sure to add in extra money for her tip. I played with my hair idly while I waited for Patricia; from what I could see, it looked like she was nearly finished too.

“Oh my god, Kim!” she squealed as she walked over, staring at the top of my head. “You look amazing as a blonde! Oh, it’s so long too, how did she do that?” I shrugged, smiling. It really was a lot longer than I normally wore it, reaching all the way down to my lower back, but I kind of liked the look of it. I waited for Patricia to finish paying, and then it was my turn to ogle her.

“I think you could really pull of the goth look,” I mused, tapping my chin. Her honey-blonde hair was now pitch black and shoulder-length, matching her purple nails perfectly.

“Oh, shut up,” she laughed. “Do you really like it though? I wasn’t sure at first…”

I rolled my eyes, sighing with mock exasperation just to tease her. “You look great, Patricia.”

“No, we look great!” she beamed, bumping her hips against mine. I laughed and followed her out through the salon exit, letting the door slowly swing shut behind me.

* * *

It was dusk by the time I got home. I had spent the rest of the day with Patricia and had somehow managed to enjoy myself. As soon as I had gotten in the car to leave, all of those good feelings melted away. I hadn’t heard from Simon all day. No voicemail. No texts. Nothing. It was not a good sign. My bleached hair seemed stupid now, it didn’t even look that great; just one more piece of evidence of time taken away from the man who loved me.

His car was parked in the car port outside of our apartment, so he was definitely home. I chewed my lip nervously as I unlocked the door, unsure of what to expect. I found him in the living room, reading on the couch. “Hey, Simon,” I said, leaning against the hallway.

Simon looked up from his book, startled. “Oh, hey Ki-woah!” He dropped the book in his lap at the sight of my hair. “You look…You…uh…What happened to your hair?”

I giggled at his reaction, pleased to find him in a better mood. “Do you like it? Patricia talked me into getting it done.” I stepped over to the couch and wriggled in next to him.

Simon ran his hand through my hair and down my back, a look of wonder on his face. “It’s beautiful,” he breathed. He blinked suddenly, catching himself. “But then again, you’ve always been beautiful.”

“Nice save.” We sat in silence for a minute, before I finally decided to address the enormous, stampeding elephant in the room. “So. Can we talk about last night?” I saw his jaw clench as soon as I said it. He was definitely still upset.

“Okay,” Simon answered stiffly. He stared at me, and for a moment I could have sworn my heart stopped beating. He was going to break up with me. Time slowed down as he opened his mouth to say something, and all I could think of was how he must have felt every time I had neglected to be there for him. I waited for those ugly, inevitable words, tears brimming at the edge of my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Kim.”

I blinked, confused, as Simon reached for my hand, holding it tightly. “It was eating at me all day! The way I just exploded at you about your job and your classes. I-I just…” He looked down at his lap, ashamed. “It was wrong of me to ask you to make those sacrifices.”

I sat in stunned silence for a moment as relief flooded through me; this conversation was going much differently than I had thought it would. “Simon…you don’t have to be sorry.” I knew there was blame on both sides here; it would be unfair of me to push it all on him. “I thought about it a lot, too,” I assured him. “I was so caught up in my life that I didn’t even think about how that was affecting our life.”

I shifted closer to him, placing my hand against his smooth jaw line. Simon caught on immediately and leaned in to kiss me. His lips were warm and soft against mine as I drank in the pleasant scent of his aftershave. He pulled away too quickly, though; now that I had had a taste, I found myself wanting more. “So, how about we go out to dinner tomorrow night?” I breathed, playing with the collar of his shirt.

Something wicked glinted in his eyes as he shifted on the couch, slipping his hands under my legs and behind my shoulders. “Screw that,” he growled, “I’m eating out tonight!” I squealed, laughing, when Simon lifted me off the sofa and slung me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing. I squirmed playfully in his grip, watching the living room shrink away as he carried me down the hall and into our bedroom.

Simon tossed me lightly onto the bed and closed the door, working quickly to undo his belt buckle. I followed suit, rolling onto my back while I unbuttoned my jeans. I slid out of them easily and kicked them off the bed. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, giggling while Simon’s hands slid across my hips, tugging on my panties. “Oh, don’t forget your glasses,” I breathed, placing my palm on his chest to slow him down.

“Heh, thanks,” he grinned, pausing for a moment to place them on the nightstand. I took the opportunity to finish unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it down his broad shoulders and throwing it to the floor. Simon laid his firm body over mine, running his hands from my stomach up to my breasts. I breathed in sharply as he gave them a quick squeeze, teasing me with his thumbs. “This would work better,” he whispered between kisses, “if you weren’t wearing a bra.”

“Better do something about it, then,” I smirked, enjoying the feel of Simon’s big hands running across my back. He fumbled with the clasp for a moment, but a muffled snap eventually signaled his success. The bra was tossed away as well, immediately forgotten when his lips closed around my nipples, taking turns to stimulate each one. “Oh, fuck,” I murmured, arching my back. My hands wandered down between his legs, stroking his manhood until it was stiff.

As I eased Simon inside, he stopped abruptly, pulling his face from my chest. “Did your boobs get bigger?” he whispered, looking puzzled.

I raised my eyebrows and peered down at my twins, holding each one in my hands. “They feel the same to me,” I reported, looking back up at him. “Even if they were, are you really going to complain?”

Simon opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again. “Fair point,” he murmured.

“That’s what I thought,” I laughed, spreading my legs for him. “Now, shut up and fuck my brains out.”

* * *

Warm fuzzies clouded my thoughts when I woke up the next morning, lost in the pile of sheets that was now our bed. I propped myself up to find sunlight streaming across the room from the window. “Mmm, what time is it, babe? Simon?” Groaning, I pulled myself out from under the warm blankets and wandered into the kitchen, still naked. There was a note on the counter from Simon; he had been called in to work early, but was eager to meet me for dinner tonight. Tonight…I had classes tonight. I frowned, rereading the note. I must have forgotten about it last night. I sighed loudly, blowing long strands of golden hair out of my face. I guess I could stand to miss a class, no big deal. The homework wasn’t due tonight anyway.

I wandered back toward the bathroom, letting the shower warm up before I got in. Still half-asleep, I was nearly done brushing my teeth before I noticed it. Brush, brush, brush. Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle. Blinking sleepily, I looked down at my breasts to find them bouncing against one another happily, clearly swollen.

“Wash da furgh!” I choked, spitting toothpaste all over the sink. I dropped the toothbrush, grabbing at my chest with both hands. They were definitely bigger and they were definitely real. I stared at them, wide-eyed, while my head spun. I was on the pill, so pregnancy was unlikely. Disease? Never heard of one that did this. Allergic reaction? Maybe, but from what?

“Ohhhhkay,” I breathed. “I’m going to take a shower, and when I come out, you two will be back to normal, deal?” They bobbed pleasantly, making no promises. I stepped into the steamy water, letting it flow through my hair and down my body. I scrubbed myself down with a washcloth, taking it easy on my enlarged, and, apparently, hypersensitive bosom. I washed out my hair as well, realizing too late what a pain it was to shampoo so much hair. By the time I was toweled off and dry, I had spent almost two hours in the bathroom.

“So. Clothes…” I murmured, staring into my closet. I needed something that would stretch across my chest. It was too warm for a jacket, so I took a yellow tank top off the hanger and pulled it over my head. I tugged it down past my boobs and grimaced; it was skin-tight, barely managing to reach my waist. I pulled on a pair of jeans with no difficulty, though I did happen to notice my nipples poking through my top.

“Damn.” I had forgotten about a bra; there was no way my little B-cups would fit. I made a mental note to go shopping later. No, wait, the doctor, I needed to see a doctor. But, shopping first. I scratched my head, losing my train of thought. Oh, right, make-up.

I went back into the bathroom and applied some eye-liner and eye-shadow; nothing excessive, just enough to make my eyes pop. I searched through a few drawers for the right shade of lipstick, eventually settling on light pink to match my nails. I spread it lightly across my lips, noting that it was nearly untouched; I had only ever used it a handful of times. I took it with me when I was finished and dropped it in my purse, just in case.

It was almost two o’clock by the time I was ready for the day and I hadn’t even eaten yet. Stretching on my tiptoes, I grabbed the bread from on top of the refrigerator. Weird, I didn’t remember it being so high up before. I rifled through the fridge, slapping together a rather disappointing turkey and avocado sandwich. I worked through some homework while I ate, but had trouble with a few problems. This was unsurprising, as last week’s assignments had been pretty intense as well. College finals were getting closer, and everyone was expected to step up their game.

When I was finished eating, I threw my dishes in the sink and grabbed my phone, remembering to make that doctor’s appointment about my enlarged breasts. I tapped through a few screens and put the phone to my ear, waiting.

“Hello?”

“Hi there, I’d like to make an appointment with Dr. Phegan.”

“Uhm, Kim, I think you called me by mistake.”

I frowned, checking the ID on my phone. “Patricia?”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” Her tinny laughter carried through the phone. “Oh! So, what happened with Simon?”

“Everything went really well, actually,” I replied, brightening. “We apologized to one another, but I let him know that I was willing to try it his way for a while.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet of you, I’m glad you two were able to patch things up!” I heard someone say something in the background. “What’d he think of your new ‘dew?” she asked.

“He told me he really likes it.” I smiled at the thought, twirling a strand of pale blonde hair around my finger. I heard a voice in the background again. “Sorry Patricia, am I interrupting something?”

“What was that? Oh, no Kim, not at all! My tutor is checking over my calculus homework.”

“Ah.” Patricia had never been the greatest student, though not for lack of trying; she just tended to struggle with higher academics. “Hey, did you get up to question forty-two? I don’t really understand where to plug in the numbers.”

“Hmm.” I heard the faint sound of shuffling papers. “Oh, yeah, those ones are tough. I’ll text you the formula in a minute.”

“Are you sure it’ll be right?” I asked uncertainly.

“Yep,” Patricia laughed, “My tutor just told me I got all the answers correct.”

“You finished the assignment already?” I tried to hide the surprise in my voice, but I didn’t do as well as I had hoped. I think Patricia noticed, as her voice was a bit frosty when she answered.

“Yeah, Kim, it wasn’t that hard.” She paused for a moment. “I have to go, but I’ll send you that formula.”

“Thanks, Patricia,” I responded, “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Kim. Catch ya later!”

I ended the call and set my phone on the coffee table, frowning when I realized I was still twirling my hair. I clasped my hands together on my lap and twiddled my thumbs, feeling like I was forgetting something. Homework? No, I needed that formula first. Shopping? I looked down at my tank top, smiling at my bulging cleavage. Cute clothes. What about lunch? I shrugged; sure, I could eat.

* * *

“Are you sure you’re okay, Kim?”

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve asked me that, Simon.”

“You’re acting a little different, that’s all.”

“I’m just having a good time, aren’t you?” I took a sip of wine, watching Simon over the top of my glass.

“Yeah, I am, of course I am.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Never mind, it’s no big deal.”

“Good,” I said, glad to let the subject drop. We had just finished our main course for the evening; everything had been delicious, though it could have been much more enjoyable if Simon would loosen up a bit. As soon as he had picked me up from the house he had fretted over me like I was diseased or something, and, frankly, I was getting tired of it.

“So.” Simon glanced at me, his eyes dipping down to my neckline momentarily. “What did you do while I was at work?” He took another peek at my chest, hands fidgeting with his napkin.

“Oh, just got some stuff done around the apartment, did some homework.” I took another swallow of wine, swirling the glass in my hand.

“Hey, wait a minute, don’t you have a calculus class tonight?” Simon cocked his head, checking if his days were off. He frowned. “Kim, you didn’t have to miss class for me. What I said the other night…I was wrong. Really.”

I shook my head, smiling. “It’s okay, Simon. I wanted to do this; not just for you, but for us.” I reached for his hand across the table. “We needed this.”

Simon returned the smile, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. “Well, when you say it like that, how can I argue?”

“You may as well just give up,” I advised, smirking. I felt butterflies in my stomach as he laughed, squeezing my hand. I began to giggle right along with him, unable to stop, while my breasts jiggled indecently within my tight dress.

“Did you want some dessert?” Simon asked, staring at me while I attempted to regain my composure. “Kim?”

“What? Oh! No, thank you.” I pulled my fingers through my hair distractedly, wondering what the hell had just happened. Simon called for the waiter to bring our bill, giving me a moment to readjust the straps of my little black dress. Bad idea. My breasts reacted immediately to the sensation of the fabric running across my bare nipples; I bit my cheek to stop myself from moaning out loud. I felt my face flush as the room grew notably warmer. “Did you pay that bill yet?” I asked faintly.

Simon, glanced up at me, pen in hand. “Just filled it out. Why, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, staring at him with unfocused eyes, “Yeah…need some dessert.” I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him away from the table, leading him in a drunken stupor.

“Well, wait, Kim, if you want dessert we have to go back…Kim?”

I barely heard him, we were so close now in the parking lot; I could see the car from here. I pawed at the door handle until Simon unlocked it and opened it for me. I pushed him into the back seat and crawled in after him, shutting the door behind me.

“Kim, seriously, what the h—” Simon froze underneath me, watching with wide eyes as I eagerly unzipped his dress pants, feeling around for my prize.

“Time for dessert,” I giggled, wrapping my hand around his dick. I gave him a few good strokes to help him up, then my tongue joined in, and soon my lips were occupied as well.

“Kim,” he gasped, “This is—” He grunted involuntarily, moving his hips to the rhythm of my head. “Holy shit.”

My breasts urged me on, wobbling like perky pendulums while I bobbed up and down with my mouth full of dick. A muffled moan escaped me as Simon squeezed my ass, using my body for leverage so he could reposition his pelvis. I felt him beginning to throb. All at once he shuddered, bucking his hips as he filled my mouth. Feverish heat took me, and I made sure to swallow every last bit, lapping at him when he was finished, hopeful for even one last drop. I only stopped when his hands pulled me away so that I was lying on top of him; I could feel him panting heavily beneath me.

“That was yummy,” I said thickly, laying my head on his chest.

Simon stared up at the roof of the car in a daze, stroking me along my back. “That was fucking amazing,” he breathed.

* * *

I jolted awake to the sound of my alarm, groggily smacking the top of it until it stopped screeching at me. I rolled over to find Simon sidled up against my backside, spooning me, with his arm resting gently on the curvature of my hips.

“You don’t work Tuesdays,” Simon grumbled, keeping his eye closed.

“No, but I have others things to do today, babe.” I jogged in the morning, every other day. I slipped out of his embrace, yawning sleepily as I rolled off the side of the bed. Rubbing my eyes, I stepped into the bathroom and stopped, staring at the mirror. It looked wrong. In fact, the whole room was different. Bigger. No, taller. I stood on my toes, looking into the mirror again. Or, maybe I was getting shorter? I looked down toward my feet and squealed, throwing my hands up to my face.

My feet were nowhere to be seen. Instead, I was staring at a pair of melon-sized boobs, squeezed tightly together in my pajama shirt. “Why is this happening?!” I hissed, very aware that Simon was just across the hall. They were perky despite their size, as though they considered gravity to be a mere suggestion. “Oh, no,” I groaned, letting my hands wander down to my waist. Or, rather, around my waist. My hips had swelled outward at some point last night, flaring out to an absurd degree; they were now wider than my shoulders. I felt my bare stomach press against the sink counter as I leaned back, peering toward my ass. “Fuuuuuck,” I whispered. It was huge. The elastic waistband of my pajama bottoms was taxed beyond its limits, stretched taut across my ass and thighs like a second skin.

I bit my lip, wondering what Simon would think if he saw me like this. The breasts would be fine, I had no doubt. The rest…I pressed a hand into my soft stomach. No way I was keeping this weight. I snuck back into the bedroom, rooting through my dresser as quietly as possible. Snatching my grey track suit from one of the drawers, I tip-toed back to the bathroom and pulled off my pajamas. I sighed with relief, letting my voluptuous body enjoy unimpeded freedom for a few moments.

I changed into my largest pair of black panties, barely managing to pull them up over my rounded butt. The elastic track pants came next, but failed to sit right on my widened hips, sagging a little beneath my waistline. I still hadn’t gone out to buy larger bras, which, at this point, seemed like something of a blessing, considering that my breasts had gone up a few cup sizes since yesterday. That left the track shirt. I threaded my arms through the sleeves easily enough, pulling the zipper ends snugly around my stomach. Zipping it up was the hard part, but I eventually managed to compress my boobs down long enough to get it closed. Fully clothed, I padded quietly back to the bedroom to grab my running shoes, pausing for a moment in front of the closet mirror.

I felt my long blonde hair tickling my exposed lower back as I craned my neck, inspecting my new, fuller body. The clothes were definitely smaller than I had anticipated; my chubby belly peeked out from underneath the grey fabric, subtly muffin-topping over my tight waistband. My soft bosom completely filled the top; I found myself having to pull the zipper back up every so often in order to contain my cleavage. I frowned, fighting to ignore their pleasurable response to my every movement.

Sighing, I turned away from the mirror and eased myself onto the bed, wincing as it creaked beneath my weight. I bent over to grab my running shoes, groaning as my shirt began to ride up around my hips. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I muttered, fumbling with my feet. I wriggled my pudgy, pink-tipped toes. They were swollen, incapable of squeezing into my small shoes. I cursed again, a little too loudly this time. My face flushed with embarrassment as Simon stirred behind me, caressing the small of my back.

“Did you decide to stay in bed with me?” he mumbled sleepily, stuffing his pillow against his face. His hand slid down to my ass, giving it a soft pinch.

I scooted away, afraid he might notice something. Hell, all he had to do was open his eyes to find his bloated girlfriend sitting at the edge of a sagging bed. “Sorry, I-I’ve got to go for a jog…” I lied, looking down at my bare feet uncertainly.

“C’mon…just snuggle with me for a bit.” His hand found mine, tugging feebly.

‘I can’t, Simon, not today.’ But those words didn’t come out of my mouth. Instead, I found myself crawling across the bed toward him. “Here comes your cuddle-bug!” I giggled, pulling back the covers. My body pressed against his, quivering lightly at his warm touch. He threw the blanket back over me, slipping his hand underneath my shirt to give my girls a firm squeeze. ‘Wait! Simon!’ Again, the words never left my lips. I laid there, confused, while Simon continued to explore the changes that had taken place.

“Somebody’s been snacking,” he teased, gripping my fleshy backside. A wide smile spread across my face as spots flickered before my eyes; I felt my nipples getting hard again. What was wrong with me?

“I’ve got a snack for you,” I heard myself say, suddenly breathing heavily. I grabbed Simon’s free hand, guiding it past my stomach and down the front of my pants. He withdrew almost immediately, rolling onto his side.

“What has gotten into you, Kim?” He wasn’t aroused. He wasn’t angry. He looked uncertain, afraid. “The last few days you’ve been acting so…crazy.” He stared at me like I was a stranger. “I mean, what was last night all about, anyway?”

“Last night?” I asked, blinking. I remembered getting into the car…It was so hard to think through the heat between my legs. I shrugged. “Who cares, Simon?”

Who cares?” Simon gaped back at me, incredulous. “I care! I mean, look at yourself, Kim!” He pulled the covers away, gesturing toward my gyrating hips.

“Wha—” I followed his gaze, vaguely aware of my own hand gently rubbing at my crotch. “Oh…” I frowned, confused, though my hand didn’t stop. Simon rolled off the bed, disgusted. “Wait!” I begged, willing myself to stand. “Simon, wait!” I followed him down the hall, staggering as I attempted to put my clothes back into place. I found him standing in the kitchen with my phone in his hand. “What’re you going to do?” I asked in a small voice.

“I-I don’t know, Kim.” Simon stared at the phone for a moment before placing it back on the counter top. He took my hands in his, looking down at me sadly. “What’s happening to you, babe?”

I stared back at him with heavy-lidded eyes, swaying where I stood, having already forgotten the question. All I could think about was how cute he looked. How wet I was. Why wasn’t he fucking me? I smiled absently at the thought. I crooked a finger at him, gesturing for him to lean down. He complied, lowering his ear to my pretty pink lips. “A horny girl is a happy girl,” I whispered, nibbling on his ear lobe.

I heard Simon sigh as he reached past me, picking up the cell phone again. He put it to his ear, waiting, while I put my lips to work, leaving a trail of pink kisses along his neck. Someone must have picked up, because Simon turned away, lowering his voice a little. “Hi, Patricia? I need your help.”

* * *

“Stop it, Trish, you’re tickling me,” I giggled, slapping at her hand. Patricia stepped back, frowning. “I’m fine, really, there’s nothing wrong with me,” I insisted, crossing my arms beneath my heavy breasts. I had to keep my hands busy to prevent them from going places they shouldn’t. Tiny trembles of pleasure still warmed my belly, making it hard to concentrate.

“How long as she been like this?” she asked, turning toward Simon. I looked up at them from my seat on the couch, watching with vague interest while they considered what was wrong with me.

“Two days? Maybe three?” he answered, uncertain. “It’s getting worse.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Patricia glanced down at my fleshy melons, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it, though. Her mom is kind of big, maybe it’s just hormones.”

“That doesn’t explain the personality changes,” Simon countered. “You were with her the other day, are you sure she didn’t get a concussion or something?”

While they discussed the situation, I marveled at how tall Patricia had become. I used to be the tall one, standing at about 5′9″; now I was barely 5′3″ and Patricia was standing at an impressive 6′4″. In fact, she had changed almost as much as I had. She was tall, slim, and striking with her jet black hair. Her long legs were accentuated by black boots and a snug pair of jeans, coupled with a deep green t-shirt that looked a bit short on her. In every way that I had grown rounder, she had gotten thinner.

I considered pointing this out to her and Simon, before realizing how silly it sounded. People didn’t just shrink six inches overnight. And…I had always been a little wide in the waist, right? My boobs had always been this big, I definitely remembered that.

“Kim?”

My thoughts scattered as I snapped back to the conversation. “What?”

Simon crossed his arms, concerned. “You looked like you were going to say something.”

“Uhm…” I couldn’t remember what we were talking about. I felt a faint glimmer of a thought forming in the back of my mind and pounced, blurting it out before it could get away from me. “Do you think I’d look cute with a belly piercing?”

Patricia stifled a snort while Simon put a hand to his temple, shaking his head.