Five Day Week
Chapter 1: Monday—The Deal
I stepped off the elevator, one hand holding my briefcase and the other one covering my mouth as I yawned mightily. It was a typical Monday morning, and I was ready for another boring week of drudgery in my cubicle. After two weeks at my new job, I had discovered that one of the few ‘perks’ of my job was that there were a couple of real cute girls who worked in my office and my route from the elevator to my cubicle tended to be a little circuitous as a result. My first detour took me past the desk of Kim Ruck, a cute, green-eyed blonde who I figured was most likely in her late 20’s. Alas, her cubicle was empty, but my dismay vanished when I realized she was only a few steps away, filling her cup at the water fountain. Filling her cup(s) was one of Kim’s greatest talents in my, admittedly masculine, view, and today was no exception. She was wearing a clingy pink shirt which was cut just low enough to show the start of her deep tanned cleavage, and was more than tight enough to give the casual passerby some idea of both the size and firmness of the breasts it stretched to contain.
A great rack wasn’t Kim’s only attraction and as I walked behind her, I admired the way she filled out her white corduroy skirt which went about halfway down her thigh, where it left off and her tanned, toned legs took over. I was walking away still looking back admiring the ripple through her tight butt as she straightened up and the swaying motion as she walked away, when I crashed into someone coming the other way down the hall. Tearing my gaze away, I looked around and saw that it was Harry Hornsby I had run into. Harry was one of the few people I had become friends with since starting work. People in the office referred to him as Horny Hornsby so it was no surprise that he had crashed into me, since I’m sure he was also gawking at Kim as she walked away.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” I asked him
“You know why”, he replied with a smile, “I was too busy thinking about how it would feel to bend her over, slide in from behind , grab onto those big melons, and pump away”. It’s not hard to understand how he got his nickname, that’s for sure. I looked around quickly but there was nobody within earshot.
“Yeah,” I said to him, “this job stinks, but it’s not all bad.”
“And the best part is, she’s not even the best looking girl in this office.”
This got my attention. “If it’s not Kim, then who is it?” I asked, but just as Harry started to reply, he spotted our boss, Mr. Dave Rowland, heading our way, so he just mouthed, ‘Shara’ at me, and then we split up before old Mr. Rowland could ask us whether or not we were planning to do any work today. Dave didn’t seem too bad as bosses go, he kept himself in pretty decent shape and based on some of the comments he sometimes made, he seemed to have the same appreciation for attractive women that Harry and I did. However, he still had the typical boss attitude in that he only liked to see people either at their desks (pretending to be) working or walking briskly with a notepad in hand, (pretending to be) on their way to some important meeting.
When I got back to my cubicle, I checked my email (nothing) opened the report I was working on, and started thinking about what Harry had said. I was kind of surprised that he would think Shara was the best looking girl in our office. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she has a really pretty face, with that classic Hong Kong kind of Asian but not too Asian look, and she was relatively tall (maybe 5′ 9″ or 5′ 10″) and skinny, but she seemed a little too skinny in my opinion. She didn’t have a whole lot of muscle tone and she didn’t fill out her pants or especially her shirt anywhere as well as Kim did. It was on this thought that I heard the sound of footsteps approaching my cubicle and looked up to see the object of my thoughts standing at the entrance to my cubicle.
“Hi Shara”, I said, “Have a nice weekend?”
“Nah—it wasn’t so good,” she replied, stepping forward and moving some papers off the spare chair in my office before sitting down. “Do you mind if I stop by for a few minutes?” she asked.
“Be my guest, make yourself at home, have a seat,” I replied in a sarcastic but friendly tone. Shara might not have the same lust-inspiring body that Kim did, but she also didn’t have the same, ‘I am out of your league and you must admire me from afar’ attitude that Kim did either. In fact, after Harry, Shara was probably my best friend at the office. It helped that we had started at the same time, coincidentally meeting each other for the first time on the subway as we both headed to the interviews which landed us our current jobs. That had been only two weeks ago, and it wasn’t uncommon since then for Shara to come by and fill me in on what was going on in her life—a life which, based on her descriptions, seemed to consist mainly of her hanging out by herself in her apartment reading and watching T.V. The only social event she seemed to be involved in was her mixed indoor soccer team.
Not coincidentally, the two biggest sources of aggravation in her life seemed to be her lack of a social life and her lack of skill at soccer. As I pulled myself out of my thoughts and started listening to what she was saying, I realized that today was no exception.
“So anyway,” she continued, “the game was almost over, the score was still tied, and I was trying to pass the ball over to Tommy because he was open, but I didn’t pass it hard enough and this big butchy girl on the other team was able to block it. I tried to get it back off her but she just bowled me over ‘cause I’m so skinny. So she started to dribble up the floor, and then the big cow (this was how she always referred to her female teammate who seemed to embody everything that Shara wanted to be but wasn’t: blond, athletic, strong, big breasted and having the handsome team captain Tommy Smith wrapped around her little finger—Shara just hated her),
“Are you listening?", Shara had noticed my mental digression.
“Sure, I am, you were about to tell me what the big cow did”.
“Right,” she continued, “so the big cow comes in and both her and the butch girl on the other team try to kick the ball at the same time—and even though the girl on the other team seemed pretty big, the big cow totally was stronger and knocked her off balance. So then big cow has the ball and she fakes a shot and then passes over to Tommy and he scores the winning goal to send us to the semi-finals. So of course, Tommy and the big cow have a big hug to celebrate their great goal they scored together, and I can see she’s arching her back pressing into him with her big boobs, and they’re both totally all sweaty and gross, but when she says to him, ‘I have to go shower honey’ and starts walking away with her little strut, you can totally tell he’s got a big hard on for her—just cause she happens to be a good player and she has big tits.” I figured this was the worst of what had happened, but I wasn’t prepared for the rest of the story..
“So anyway,” Shara continued, “we’re in the shower after the game and we’re the only two people left in there, and of course she’s walking around totally naked showing off her porn star body to try and make me feel insecure. And then, right after I’ve finished getting undressed and I’m about to head to the showers, she walks over and looks down at me sitting on the bench and says, ‘I guess we’re lucky I’m not a scrawny little thing like you are and I was able to make a play for Tommy—if you know what I mean. You know honey, I know you’ve been doing lots of practicing trying to get better so you catch Tommy’s eye, but let’s face it, even if someday you were as good as me—and you obviously won’t be—but even if you were, you’d still be ugly and you’d still be flat, and you certainly wouldn’t have anything like these for him to stare at’. And she cups her big boobs in her hands and leans over and totally rubs them in my face. And then she just laughed and started walking away.”
“So what did you do”, I asked, strangely turned on by the image of this nasty, big-titted blond just humiliating cute but flat and skinny Shara.
“Well I got up, and I said to her, ‘Your lucky you’ve got big tits bitch because your little brain certainly isn’t going to get you anywhere in life.’ When I said that she stopped, turned around and slowly walked up to me, and all I could focus on was those big firm boobs of hers bouncing up and down above the smooth flat muscles of her tight waist. She got right up into my face and then she grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back up against the wall and leaned into me so that her boobs were pushing right into my chest. I tried to push her off but she was way too strong and I could see the little ridges of muscle on her biceps as she pressed my into the wall—of course she’s always at the gym and I think she has like a black-belt in karate or something—the bitch—so anyway, I’m trapped there against the wall, struggling helplessly in her grasp, and she’s just loving how she can see the fear on my face. After a few seconds of leaning into me, she looks at me and says, ‘Would you care to revise your opinion of my intelligence?’—and she leans up a little closer against me and starts grinding her pussy into mine, and I don’t know why but I started to feel my nipples getting hard as her big tits pressed into my little ones. So of course she could feel that too and she was just loving it, and she says to me, ‘It looks like maybe Tommy isn’t the only one around here who’s lusting after me’, and she smiles and lets go of me, and then just runs her right little finger around my left nipple in a couple of quick circles. And I’m totally hating her, but I’m also shuddering from the effect of her touch on my nipples. And then she just laughs and walks into the showers and starts slowly just rubbing soap into her tits, squeezing them and letting them fall, rubbing little circles around the nipples getting them all hard. I was totally in tears which just made her laugh even more so I just packed up my stuff and went home and showered there instead.”
She seemed to have finished her story, so, as I shifted in my seat to try and disguise the big erection her tale had caused and asked, “When is your next game—are you going to go?”
“We have the semi-finals on Wednesday and then if we win, finals are on Thursday”, she sighed, “I don’t know if I can face the big cow after what happened. It would be different if only I had bigger boobs or if I was stronger—I’m not a bad player but I get pushed off the ball too easily, and I can’t kick it hard enough—plus if I was stronger, I could push her around a bit—I need help Harry!”
I tried to be reasonable, “If you want to be stronger, you just need to go the gym a bit more.”
“But I’m too lazy to go to the gym”, she whined, “I expect things to come easily for me. And I can’t afford implants—Tommy’s never going to notice me!—besides, there’s not enough time between now and Wednesday.”
“You don’t need implants”, I told her, “Maybe you just need to be a little more proactive and go up to him—and it wouldn’t hurt to dress a little sexier.” Shara dressed very conservatively, wearing old-fashioned, loose fitting clothing that made her look kind of dowdy. She didn’t seem too impressed by my comments though.
“You want me to act like some kind of slut so I can get Tommy’s interest?", she demanded.
“Well,” I reasoned, “If you want to sleep with him, you have to give him a little something to look at, to get his mind going in that direction.”
“You’re a pig,” she shot back, “I don’t want to sleep with him, I just want to hang out and go on dates, and maybe kiss after a while.” I’d only known her two weeks but I was getting the impression that she was a bit of a prude, which seemed like a waste of a pretty girl with a nice—albeit somewhat scrawny—body to me.
“So you say you need help—how can I help you?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she moaned, “but I can’t go to the game on Wednesday the way things stand, and if I quit the team I’ll never see Tommy again, and there’s nothing else going on in my life, things are hopeless.” I looked up at her pretty face, and into her dark brown eyes, and I felt this urge that I should do something to help her, but at the same time I felt like she needed to do something in return as well. So I looked into her sad yet still very beautiful eyes, and I made her the following offer:
“OK Shara”, I said, “I’ll make you a deal which might help with your problems. Basically, you want to be stronger and you want bigger boobs—right?”
“Sure”, she said, I had her interest now, but she seemed skeptical that I could do anything to help.
“Well then, how about this. I will change your body so that every night when you sleep, you will add one full cup size to your bustline, and you will become 50% stronger than you were when you went to sleep. But, the catch is that, in order for this change to last, you will have to have sex with a different guy each night this week, and it will have to be great sex for the guy, and you’ll have to tell me the whole story here in my cubicle when I get in in the morning. If you manage to do it every night until Friday morning then you get to keep the changes—otherwise you go back to the way you are now.”
“Let me get this straight,” she replied, here eyes flashing, “each night this week if I sleep with a guy and have great sex, I’ll gain a full cup size and become 50% stronger while I sleep—as long as I tell you all about it.”
“That’s right”, I affirmed.
“Ok, I’ve got work to do, I didn’t realize you were such a nutcase.” She got up and started to walk away.
“I’m offering you everything you wanted and you’re just going to walk away?” I asked.
“Even if I could fulfill my part of the bargain”, she replied, “How the hell can you fulfill your part?”
“Sit down,” I instructed her. She sat down.
“Now roll up your left sleeve.” I had noticed that she almost always wore a long-sleeved shirt and when I asked her about it she had shown me the somewhat large, unsightly mole which covered part of her left forearm. Slowly, she rolled up her sleeve, giving me a ‘where the hell is this going’ look. I took her left hand in mine and turned her arm so that the mole was showing clearly. Then I simply looked at her arm, concentrated briefly, and in a matter of seconds, the mole faded away and her arm looked perfectly normal.
I should mention as an aside that, since I hit puberty, I have always had the ability to alter people’s bodies at will. At first it took a lot of effort, but with practice it became pretty easy to do whatever I wanted. I don’t really know why or how I came to have this talent but I do know that it’s not a good idea to use it too often. I won’t go into it here because it’s a long story, but I learned from painful experience that I was better off hiding my talent and never using it except in emergencies. I’m not sure why I decided to break my rules and make an exception in Shara’s case but perhaps it had just been too long since my last painful reminder of the consequences of letting the use of my powers get out of control. Hopefully, I wasn’t headed for a repeat disaster, but I figured it was just one little deal I had made, so it was nothing to really worry about.
So, anyway, Shara was looking at me with a pretty shocked expression on her face.
“How the hell did you do that?", she demanded. So I explained about my powers and how I didn’t really know where they came from. After a couple more small demos, she was pretty convinced.
“So if you can change bodies at will, why don’t you just make me over to look perfect now—why do I have to,” she paused, as if even just saying the words was distasteful, “why do I have to—sleep with —a different guy each night to make it happen?”
“Well,” I replied, “I think that people just value things more if they have to work for them. And the truth is, you seem a little repressed so maybe it will do you good to try and get with a few guys.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said, “Anyway, how do I know you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?”
“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.” I looked at her and offered my hand, “4 guys, 4 nights, 4 stories equals one extra cup size and 50% stronger per night—Is it a deal?”
She looked inward for a second, and I could tell she was imagining herself at her next soccer game, kicking butt and impressing Tommy. She put out her slender, olive-skinned hand and we shook on it.
“It’s a deal,” she agreed.
I still wasn’t really sure what had prompted me to make the unusual offer, and I was pretty skeptical a prudish girl like her could pull off her end, but it promised to be a pretty interesting week all the same.