Gigantic Variations

by Maxwell Avoi

  “Why…why did you sleep with me, anyway?” The interlude was looking stranger and stranger now that I thought about it.

  She was quiet, staring down at her own coffee, and I almost asked again when she said, “That’s part of the curse.”

  “What? Sleeping with your roommate?”

  She shook her head, the play of her auburn tresses almost enough to distract me from my question. “To change back…you have to, um…well, my car did break down, but it wasn’t on the way back from somewhere. I was heading toward someone.”

  “You have to…oh my God.”

  She nodded, looking miserable. “I’m so sorry, Deke. I didn’t mean to do this to you.”

  “I have to pass the curse on to change back?”

  She blinked. “Oh. No! No, nothing like that, it’s just, you have to, you know. Sleep with a guy. If you do that and bite him enough to break the skin when he's, um, inside you, then it passes the curse. I wasn’t sure if we’d been together when I nipped you, so I haven’t said anything, but then when you started waking up in weird places I knew.”

  “So those times, what? I…I don’t understand.”

  She sighed again. It did marvelous things to her chest and I had a brief flash of her screaming on the end of my cock. The image sent a pulse of heat through me. “When you first change, unless it’s under a full moon you won’t remember anything.”

  “What, you change once a week?”

  “About that, yeah.”

  “And then each time, you…”

  She nodded. “Why do you think I was gone so often?”

  “Jesus, I don’t know! Are you saying that those times that I woke up in strange place, that I spent the night with…with…” I was having a hard time finishing my sentences.

  “Yes. You’d have to, to change back.”

  “And now that it’s a full moon, I remember. Shit. Why did you do this to me?” The question came out more plaintive than I was going for, but in my new voice it still sounded more like a question about a slightly unpleasant bondage knot than anything.

  “I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to!”

  I sighed, fighting down panic and halfway distracted by the sensation of my breasts pushing against the bra. “So how do I cure this, then?”

  She coughed and looked away, her beautiful face set in an expression of shame.

  I said, “Oh, don’t tell me that-“

  “There’s no cure, not that we know of.”

  “That’s…that’s fucking great. What the hell do I do now? Huh? How can…I can’t have a life this way can I!” The shock was starting to melt under oncoming rage.

  “Hey, no, come on, it’s not the end of the world. I mean, I manage, and all my ancestors have too if the stories are right. It’ll be-“

  “No! That’s you , Joe. Carol. Whatever. You might not care, but I do! I don’t even like guys!”

  “Oh. The, uh, the spell sort of…takes care of that. Um.”

  I stared at her as she got more uncomfortable. I didn’t trust myself to speak so I let the silence stretch until she started to fill it.

  “See, um, there’s this thing where if you’re alone with a guy, or if you take too long to choose someone after the change, uh…the spell sort of…well, I mean, you saw how I was with you.”

  Horny as hell. Insatiable.

  “So I’m stuck. As what, a slut. Just because you couldn’t control yourself.”

  Now something new flared inside her: anger. “Hey, it’s not like I chose this, alright? You think I love everything about this? My life is just barely tolerable sometimes, you dick.”

  We glared at each other until I threw up my hands. “Okay, okay, fine. What do I do now?”

  She sighed. I had a brief image of her breasts surging against my chest as I pounded into her, and the pulse of warmth shot through me again. It left a residue, a heat that didn’t quite go away.

  “Now…now we have to find a guy for both of us.”

  Hot on the heels of the fading anger came fear. “I…I really don’t want to do this, Carol,” I whispered.

  She came over and sat down next to me, the feel of her body warm and familiar despite the alienness of my own flesh. “I know,” she said. “Trust me. I really do know.”

  She hugged me and I hugged her back. We sat that way for a while until I felt strong enough to pull away and stand up. It was disorienting at first, with all the ways that my body had changed. My balance was off though it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be. Until I stood up I hadn’t realized that I was wearing strappy little sandals. Smaller feet probably didn’t help my balance, though I didn’t realize that detail at first; every time I went to look at my feet my giant boobs got in the way.

  I said, “Why am I wearing this?”

  “Well, you know, we’re all different. Your body is based off of your ideal, the one that’s way down deep in the middle of your subconscious. Your clothes are just a reflection of that, sort of what you expect a girl like that to be wearing to show off.”

  “…wonderful.”

  “You’re probably going to want to get some other clothes soon. I mean, you look great, but when winter hits you’re going to wish that you’d thought a parka was sexy.”

  I glared at her and she gave me an impish grin, correctly gauging that I was moving out of the shock and anger stages. I kept glaring but there was no bite in it.

  “Is this what you do when you go out?” I said.

  She nodded. “I actually change in the car most of the time.”

  I tried a few steps, found that they weren’t as difficult as I’d imagined, and I started to pace a bit. My enormous tits bounced along as I walked and I immediately wished that I’d imagined a bra with more support. “So how does it work? You just, what, jump in the car, change into Carol, and go off and find a guy at a bar?”

  She looked nervous again, and I stopped. “What?”

  “Well, I mean, yeah, sometimes it’s like that, but not very often. See, I have these, um…well, I guess you’d call them clients.”

  I gaped. “You’re a hooker?”

  “Not a hooker! Not really. I just have a few guys I know who pay really well for a night with Carol. With me. And since I’m going to have to do it anyway, I figure I might as well make some money off of it, right? It’s not like I’m the first one here. My dad and uncle paid their way through college doing that.”

  That was such a bizarre piece of family history that I didn’t know how to respond to it. “How did you find these clients? How do you time it?”

  “Well, I mean, the changes are pretty easy to plan for, since they happen every week at the same time. You just set up a schedule, you know?”

  “I really don't know. But I’m not sure I…”

  “Yeah, it’s a lot to think about right now, I know. Look, let’s get this taken care of first, huh? The full moon changes are out of schedule, so I have to go out to a bar or something most of the time. Or a frat party.”

  “Wait, what do you do when it’s not the full moon? Do you just leave notes for yourself, or what?”

  “Notes? Oh. No, now that you’ve changed under the moon you won’t have amnesia again.”

  “Great. Amnesia was the best part about all this.”

  I was glad that I could joke a little bit about what I was going through even though I wasn't sure I was joking. It didn’t mean that I was ready to take a guy home. The very idea made my stomach do a slow roll though there was some part of me that felt curious about it. It felt like the part of the mind that looked down into a canyon from the edge and thought, “Go on. Take that last step.”

  I didn’t trust that part of my mind.

  “And you’re totally sure there’s no cure?”

  “Not that we’ve ever been able to find.”

  “Great. Well, let’s see what the damage is.” I already had some idea of what my body looked like (just barely overripe, with far too many curves) but I had no idea about my face. I knew it h
ad changed but I didn’t know how. I went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror.

  Apparently my subconscious heart’s desire included heavy-lidded dark blue eyes, overfull lips, and a button nose. High cheekbones and my jet-black hair saved my face from a lack of definition, and the tiny trace of baby fat made sure that it was pleasantly plumped. That trace of baby fat kept going, smoothing my long neck and flawless throat and shoulders. It promised what my new breasts delivered. I didn’t know what their official size was, but it was big. I touched one for the first time, finding it warm and springy and very soft. I had no trouble imagining a guy going for this package.

  I hadn’t expected that thought. This was getting a little more scary as the possibility became more real. It didn’t help that the trace of heat from my memories of my night with Carol remained, slowly gathering strength every time I had another thought like that. Maybe being with a guy wouldn’t be so bad.

  I quickly banished that thought and returned to the living room. I was a little unsteady thanks to both my radically altered body and the way that shock, fear, and determination were warring within me. This was my only option so I had to get to it. Tomorrow would take care of itself. “Okay. What do we do?”

  Carol gave me a sympathetic look. I did my best to keep from wanting to kick it down her throat. Fortunately, it was just a passing urge. “It’s not going to be easy in some ways, Deke.”

  “In what way is this going to be easy?”

  She sighed. I glanced at her chest, my old reflexes still not having gotten the word yet. “Some of it will be. Walking gets easier. And the actual act…well, the magic is going to make you want to do it. But as far as the emotions…there’s not going to be some magical emotional connection with some random guy you meet at a bar.”

  I stared at her. “This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “I’m serious! This isn’t going to be anything besides just plain sex. You’re probably not going to like the guy, even, but the way the curse works it won’t matter.”

  “Hey, you know. Forced you to fuck me, right? So I figure it’ll work on anyone.” I felt something like heartburn go through me, angry and hot where the mild arousal was wet and warm. It hurt.

  “Hey, I stayed. I didn’t exactly screw you once and then leave did I? But what I’m saying is…the emotions are often important, and you’re just not going to get that here. Do you get what I mean?”

  “I’m not sure I do, but there’s nothing I can do about it anymore, is there?”

  She looked down at her hands. “No. But you could change your attitude toward it a little. It’s not all bad even without the connection.”

  I sighed, once again aware of the way that my breasts pushed against my top. Would I ever lose that awareness of the bra straps and the way that my shoulders carried their weight? I didn’t think so but I wasn’t sure. Carol looked so dejected I couldn’t keep my anger hot.

  “You can’t call me Deke,” I said.

  She looked up and nodded, then stood. “How about, um…Deanna? Close enough to the first part of your name that you might react to it well enough, right?”

  I shrugged. “Sure, what the hell. So what do we do now?”

  “Let’s go find some charming princes.”

  I winced a little at her words but she just grinned. I went to get my wallet. Carol folded her arms and said, “What’s that?”

  “What? I’d my wallet.”

  “What’re you going to do with that, Deanna ?”

  She had a point. My ID wouldn’t help anything. “What about the cash, though?”

  “Two things. First, where would you put it? And second, trust me, where we’re going, a girl like you isn’t going to need to buy her own drinks.”

  I blushed. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I was still wrapped up in the “getting into the car” phase. “Oh, um, well, I guess.” I looked down at my skirt. “My phone was in my pocket, though. Where is it now?”

  She blinked at me. “You just turned into a hot woman. Why are you worried about the phone?”

  “Because it’s something I can deal with, geez.”

  She held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Okay, okay. Some stuff ends up in your new form. Like me, with my jeans here, most things just transfer over. For your outfit, though, I wouldn’t count on seeing your phone again until you change back. There is one thing you might want to tuck into your shirt, though.”

  “What?”

  “A condom. Or three.”

  This time the blush carried down to the upper slopes of my new tits. “I hate this.”

  She nodded. “I know, and I’m sorry, but it’s really the best thing.”

  I went back to my room and dug around in my bedside table. I found a couple of rubbers and tucked them discreetly into my cleavage, muttering to myself the whole time. My breasts were big enough that the cleavage swallowed them up without any problem. This was crazy.

  I went back out into the living room and found her standing by the door. “Ready to go?”

  I nodded, aware of how my hair bounced around my shoulders and tits. “As ready as I’m gonna get, yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

  She shook her head and I again had a flash of our night together, the way that hair had tumbled over her back when I was slamming into her from behind. “I wish you’d think of this as something other than torture. It can feel really good, you know.”

  I muttered something and she sighed and shook her head again. I followed her swaying hips out the door and got into the car with her.

  “One last thing,” she said. “You might have felt a tingle when I kissed you...that's because our kiss will turn a guy on even if he's already gone once.”

  “Great. Just...just great.” We rode in silence the rest of the way.

  The local hangout was called Antique, and it featured pseudo-steampunk furnishings and lots of olde-world charm. I was glad that Carol wasn’t taking us to a dance club the first time out, and then I realized that I was thinking of this little expedition as “the first time.” Maybe part of me was making peace with the situation already. If so I was sure that it was premature. I would figure a way out of this.

  There was a small roar when Carol walked in. She blushed slightly and said, “A lot of guys know me here. Um, I’ve got a rep. They’re probably going to paint you the same way. Sorry.”

  That was all she got to say before the first drinks and invitations arrived. We ended up at the largest table in the club, deftly separated from each other and plied with at least a couple of drinks apiece. All Carol had to say was that my name was Deanna and I liked to party, and suddenly I found myself with a handful of guys vying for my attention.

  The music, the laughing, the lights, the people: the combination was overwhelming, and I found it hard to focus on any one person or thing. It all turned into a sort of blur, punctuated by a clear face or word, but one thing I was sure of was that the heat that had settled into my belly when I’d thought of my night with Carol was growing bit by bit. I tried to keep up with what people were saying, but there were so many of them that I’m afraid that I came off sounding kind of stupid. The booze didn’t help, either; I hadn’t realized that my new body didn’t have the capacity of my real one and I was soon tipsy.

  I also realized that it was easier to just let go and let things happen when I was drunk. The boys around me were having a great time and I caught myself checking them out more and more often as the night went on. The booze didn’t force me to do that any more but drinking made it easier for me to deal with the fact that my altered body had needs of its own. I even caught myself laughing and having a good time once or twice, and as my mood improved so did my desire for contact. The night changed from a blur of laughing faces to a blur of laughter as I joined in.

  The next time I really thought about what was going on I found myself sitting in a boy’s lap, giggling and playing with his hair. He wasn’t the tallest or strongest, but there was something about
him that appealed to my new femininity. My belly was hot with need now, my new pussy warm and slick, and my breasts felt swollen. Carol was right; the more time I spent focusing on him, the more I wanted him. I wasn’t even sure what his name was. Luke? Daniel? Something biblical, anyway. It didn’t really matter.

  I let the booze drown the voice that was telling me to stop. It was a stupid voice anyway; if I stopped now I’d just have to start again with another boy. I roused myself from my stupor long enough to look around for Carol, but she was already gone. “Don’t worry about your friend,” said Daniel or Luke. “My brother’s got her taken care of.”

  I giggled and burrowed my face into his shoulder. “Well, maybe you should take care of me,” I said. I watched as if from a distance, vaguely shocked that I giggled at him. My heavy breasts were pressed against him and my skirt was pulled up until the whole world could see the bottom curve of my panties. I didn't even know what color they were, or if I was wearing any. None of that made any difference; the magic made it really easy for me to let go and let what happened, happen.

  He led me out of Antique through a side door that I hadn’t even known about. He put his finger to his lips and I giggled when I did the same thing. His car was half a block down but it felt like miles in my condition. I still wasn’t used to the way my body moved, and when I added alcohol to that equation I had a hard time even staying upright, much less moving in a particular direction. Fortunately, Daniel or Luke was very gentlemanly and allowed me the use of his arm as a support. The fact that it allowed him to cop a feel at the same time struck me as enormously funny. I pushed my tit into his hand and laughed louder when he squeezed.

  He had some huge land yacht of a car, not a new one but something old and restored with a giant backseat. As soon as I saw it I knew that I was going to be splayed across it fairly soon. I couldn’t wait, no matter what I’d thought a few hours before.

  As soon as we were in the backseat he pawed at my tank top and buried his face between my breasts. I giggled at the feeling, the way that his stubble rubbed against my delicate skin and how his warm, slick tongue tickled. I said, “Wait, wait…hang on, wait!” I squeaked and pushed him away, but only long enough to take my top off and then laugh when he unhooked my bra with one hand. Suddenly my immense boobs were hanging out there, bare for the first time since I could remember, and he buried his face in them again. Something rustled in my lap. I felt around and found the three condoms, but Daniel or Luke mistook my motion for me reaching for something else.