Gigantic Variations

by Maxwell Avoi

  The next morning, after the screaming had woken up the residents, Stacy and TD lay there in a comfortable pile on his bed.

  “So you just went from being asleep to having a guy fucking you in the ass, huh?” said TD, his tone companionable.

  “It was kind of a shock after the day I’d had,” said Stacy.

  “I bet. What’d you do, anyway?”

  She sat up and stretched, simultaneously glad and disappointed to be back in her real body. “Nothing. I did nothing. It was glorious. I went and fed ducks at the park, and sat and had coffee, and I didn’t feel like fucking anyone. I handed out Halloween candy, and no one hit on me. I just enjoyed the day and went to bed.”

  He nodded. “Sounds about right. Kind of what mine was like, though I’d never been a woman before.”

  She arched an eyebrow and grinned. “So did you try it?”

  “You know, I thought about it. But really, it was so nice to just be able to relax that I never quite got around to seeing what it was like for a woman. I hear that some of them have trouble with orgasms anyway, so I figure, just as well. Boobs are fun, though.”

  “That’s true from either side,” she said. She shook her shoulders a bit, her breasts dancing as they bounced off of one another.

  “It is. So what’re you going to do about Jamie and Maria?”

  “I think they should get black cards, don’t you?”

  TD nodded and reached up to caress one of her nipples, grinning when she shivered. “I think that’s appropriate.”

  Three days later, Maria and Jamie both found the same letter in the mail. The envelope was creamy card stock, and inside was a short note with what seemed to be a black credit card. The return address was simply, “A.E.”

  Thank you so much for your help with our vacations , said the message. Feel free to come back and visit any time. You’ll find that the card inside entitles you to one year of entry and expenses at absolute ecstasy, save for tips. Come and drink for free, enjoy a lap dance on us, and have an absolutely ecstatic time. Love, Absolute Ecstasy and TD (Total Delight).

  Maria clasped the card to her thin chest and lay back in her bed, dreaming of her time with TD. It hadn’t ended quite the way that she’d planned, what with taking his body over and having sex with four different women during that time, but she wouldn’t have traded the experience for anything. She thought that she might go back and say hi sometime, and maybe even meet the guy who’d been in Stacy’s body that Halloween.

  Jamie laughed to himself and pocketed the card. It would be fun to go back and meet Stacy to talk with her about things. He probably had a better perspective on her life than anyone else.

  “Maybe next Halloween I could even help her have another break,” he said, grinning to himself. By that time, he figured he might even have recovered from this one.

  Jiggle Physics

  “That is just disgusting ,” said Corrie, my sister. “How on earth can she even stand upright?”

  I just grinned and put the game aside. I’d just unwrapped Catastrophe Bounce IV, the newest in a series that was known for delivering just what the cover promised: barely clothed, ridiculously proportioned women in an all-out battle to the death. Corrie frowned and shook her head at me, trying to communicate how I was letting all women down, and I just kept grinning.

  “The people who make that game are morons, you know,” she said, not willing to let it go. She folded her arms under her chest, unconsciously emphasizing what it was that bothered her the most about the game. Corrie’s chest had never been small; she’d started developing in seventh grade and had never really stopped. Out of a brotherly sense of curiosity I’d checked her bra size one time and come away amazed. I’d had no idea that they even used those letters. She was sensitive about the way she looked and while she was willing to joke around about most things, she had no sense of humor at all about her chest or anything even tangentially related to it.

  As her twin brother, I had ended up in several fights to protect her perceived honor in high school. Since we’d gotten into college, the fights had turned more verbal than physical. Now I just liked poking the bear occasionally, and this gift from Marcus on our shared twentieth birthday was just the right way to go about it.

  Seeing that her irritation had no effect on me, she gave a disgusted snort and turned to the cake. There was one for the two of us, split down the middle with Corrie on one side and Cory on the other. Yes, our parents were hilarious. Oh how we laugh.

  “Make a wish!” said our mom before we blew out the candles. I went blank as usual; when a person asks you your dearest wish or your favorite novel or something, you blank out if you’re on the spot. I had never had a wish in mind when blowing out my candles and this year was no different. Usually I just tried for a general feeling of goodwill to the world.

  Corrie laughed quietly in a manner that would have made the Joker’s victims nervous and blew her candles out. I followed suit and we got them all in one shared breath. A younger version of me, one less worried about long-term survival prospects, might have made a joke about her obvious lung capacity. I like to think that I’ve grown.

  As usual she said, “What’d you wish for?”

  “Men on earth, goodwill toward peace. You?”

  “I wished that you’d someday get a chance to know what it’s like. Being like me, or even that.” She nodded to the game.

  “Well that’s likely. You think I’m going to get a body suit or something?”

  “Never know. Anyway, that was my wish.”

  We had some cake and then the party split up. Corrie’s friends came to whisk her away from the house and Marcus came over to help me break in my new game. He plopped down on the couch next to me as the console warmed up, and I said, “You got me in trouble with Corrie, you know.”

  “What? Oh, God, the game? What was she, envious of what’s-her-name on the cover?”

  “Yeah, that was exactly it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “All about how it exploits women and they wouldn’t even be able to stand up.”

  “Hell yeah,” he said. He started sorting through the available characters and stopped long enough to do a fist pump. “Hey, Decimacia’s still in there!” He pointed at a short, red-haired woman on the screen. She wore a suit of armor that was a little more advanced than a chainmail bikini but that still managed to show plenty of her muscular, buxom body.

  “Decimacia’s been in there from day one,” I said. “Whole legions of fan boys would have died burning if she hadn’t been in this one.”

  While he started customizing his character for the game, I sorted through the ones that were left. Catastrophe Bounce had about two dozen accumulated over the course of the previous three games, but I was interested in the new characters. “What’s this one?” I said, flipping to the next character, a name I didn’t recognize.

  “Holy shit,” said Marcus. “Chainsaw Madonna? You mean there’s a sexy nun?”

  She was dressed something like a nun, though no nun on the face of the planet would have left so much of her skin exposed. There probably had never been a nun with tits that size, either, or that kind of an hourglass figure. She carried a sword that was also a chainsaw, the blade nearly as long as she was tall, slung over her back with the strap between her gigantic boobs. Her hands were folded over her heart, under her breasts, her sweet, innocent face set in an expression of prayer as she stared upward at something that soaked her magnificent form in cool, blue light.

  “I want some of that ,” said Marcus.

  “Too late,” I said, pressing start. While he muttered, I went ahead and customized the character to the best of the game’s ability. It turned out that there were sliders to adjust everything; her already huge boobs were actually in the middle of the size slider, for instance, and I could have made them so big that they would have interfered with her other animations. That was probably the goal of the character, I figured, but I left them just slightly larger than they’d been to start before going on to adju
st things like her hips and ass. By the time that I was done there was no way that any established order of nuns would have allowed her within half a mile of a convent.

  Just as we were about to start, I remembered something that I’d read about the game in several reviews. I went back into the customization screen and moved the breast-size slider down to about a quarter. It left Chainsaw Madonna with big tits, no doubt, but they weren’t freakish anymore.

  “Dude, what the hell?” said Marcus.

  I shook my head. “I read about this game, and everyone says that they got a little crazy with the jiggle physics. I figure that we can do the normal playthrough and then get silly with it when it’s time for the cheats and whatever.”

  Marcus just shrugged. He’d gone with making Decimacia’s chest freakish; it was just his preference. We pressed start.

  The game was a combination of strategy, fighting, and exploration. The main characters were women in the aftermath of a major apocalypse of some kind (figuring out what had happened was part of the story) who were trying to start and sustain their own gangs. Ultimately the goal was to carve out a place for everyone to live peacefully under one banner.

  This was accomplished in a wide variety of different ways, but fighting was a constant. Marcus and I were going to team up to create a joint settlement.

  I got up to get a soda as the opening started, and I heard Marcus say, “You gotta see this, man. They’re jiggling even when they’re standing still!”

  That’s what I’d read about. Apparently the jiggle physics had been cranked up to borderline-obscene levels by the developers, which is why I’d given Chainsaw Madonna smaller boobs. I grinned as I returned and sat down. The screen was open on a cinematic, showing our characters walking through a ruined city with their signature weapons at the ready.

  As soon as I looked at Chainsaw Madonna, her boobs bouncing and her innocent face set in a determined expression, I felt myself rise up out of the couch. I looked around frantically and found that my body was still sitting there watching the game, but my awareness had left it behind. I flew toward the screen, the picture getting larger and larger until it dominated my entire world.

  When I could understand what I was seeing again, I found myself sitting on the couch. There was a wet spot under my ass and I saw that I had dropped my can of soda in my lap during whatever had happened to me. “What’s…?”

  My voice wasn’t my own. I looked at myself and sucked in a gasp that made my boobs bounce as if I was running, even though I was mostly frozen. I wore what looked like a nun’s outfit as designed by a dominatrix, and beside me on the floor was a long blade with chainsaw teeth for an edge. The most shocking part was how my body had changed during my fugue.

  The boobs were just the most visible part; the rest of me was just as altered, just as incredibly perfect. I said, “Holy wow!” instead of Holy shit , which was my initial instinct.

  There was a small noise like a mouse being stepped on, and I turned my head to see Marcus staring at me. I was wearing a hood now that partially blocked my vision, so I had to turn my head farther than I’d expected. The motion also made me aware of how heavy my longer hair was.

  “The fuck?” he said, at least achieving coherence.

  “I…I…”

  “Holy shit,” he said. “You’re Chainsaw Madonna.”

  “No I’m not,” I said, the words sounding strange on my tongue. “It’s me. It’s Cory.” I would have come up with something more profound, but I had other things on my mind.

  Marcus was staring at them, his eyes wide. “Holy shit ,” he said.

  “No need to swear,” I said. I blinked. I hadn’t planned to say that , anyway. I had planned to stick to something a little more apropos, perhaps related to my confusion about having changed into a female video game character with boobs that couldn’t seem to stay still.

  Marcus opened and then closed his mouth, and I said, “How could this…”

  He shook his head, his eyes still jumping around in their sockets at he looked back and forth at first my chest and then my face. I looked down as well and saw that the breasts…my breasts, they were still bouncing slightly. “This is insane,” I said, my breathing and speech making my tits jiggle even more. They felt ridiculous, and I felt part of my mind unhinge just a little.

  “How the fuck?” he said.

  “Language,” I said, before I could stop myself. “I have no idea what happened. What did it look like from here?”

  “We started the game, and ah, there was this whooshing noise, and when I looked at you, you were gone. Then I jumped up and I guess paused the game, and you were back, but you were like…” He gestured at me, giving me ample description of what I’d returned “like.” I found myself wanting to giggle at the sight of his shocked face, an urge that was even crazier than the rest of the situation.

  “Well if you paused the game and it did this maybe we could unpause it and turn me back!” I said, grasping at straws. I had no idea how any of this worked or what it meant; my solution made just as much sense as what had happened to me in the first place.

  I reached out and grabbed my controller, fighting to ignore the way that my altered body moved as I did so. I was glad that I was sitting; standing up would have been even stranger and would probably have sent me falling on my ass. I pressed the button to unpause the game and found myself floating into the screen of the television again. I felt a strange sense of relief at the thought that whatever this was, we had figured out how to fix it.

  I found myself standing in that same street, next to a woman I recognized as Marcus’s character Decimacia. She turned to me, her enormous breasts thrashing with each movement, and said, “The Freak Lord scouts are waiting for us at the end of the street. Get your blade out!”

  Then I was back in my living room on the couch again. The game was paused. I looked down and saw the same large, heavy tits that I’d been wearing the last time, and I made a tiny sound that I didn’t even know was possible to hear with human ears. “What do I do? What do I do ?” I whimpered.

  “Whoa, whoa, calm down,” said Marcus. “We’ll figure out what to do. It’ll be okay.”

  “How can you even say that?” I said, starting the process of getting to my feet. “You have no idea what even happened! I know that because I don’t know what happened!” Getting up was easier than I’d thought it would be, though my new tits continued to bounce and thrash as if they were under their own power. I knew a little bit about how big boobs worked, thanks to having a sister with a much larger-than-average set, and these were much more enthusiastic than hers. I finally stood, faintly glad that I at least had chosen a character who wore flat shoes; one of the girls in Catastrophe Bounce, an ex-stripper named Miss Destruction, wore what looked like five-inch stiletto heels. I tottered toward the bathroom, acutely aware of just how different my body was and how much the center of gravity had changed. Marcus followed me, his eyes wide. My tits thrashed wildly, far more than even my unsteady steps warranted, further throwing me off-balance with every movement.

  In the bathroom, I stopped at the mirror and stared. Whatever else they’d done, I had to admit that from the neck up I looked like I could be a model for angels. Chainsaw Madonna had big blue eyes, soft lips, and a creamy complexion that made her look, from the neck up, as if she had never had a single impure thought in her probably-eighteen years. Strands of loose blonde hair rippled down from the modified wimple I wore, just enough to define my new face and show how long the rest of my hair was.

  The body and dress from the neck down was anything but pious. I was glad that I hadn’t gone overboard with the sliders, though even sticking to conservative numbers had left me with a wasp waist above beautifully rounded hips, below those ridiculous breasts that were still bouncing around even while I was standing there just breathing. The wimple came down in sort of a combination cape and robe, split open in the front to show that I wore a black bra (that appeared to be doing all of jack shit in terms of s
upport), a brief black thong, and a pair of white silk stockings that came up to attach to the thong with a set of garters. I wore sensible, patent-leather shoes. As an experiment, I closed my robe around my spectacular body. There was just enough to seal me in, though the robe drew tight around my fabulous curves. There was no way to fasten it, though, so I just let it hang open again.

  I turned to Marcus, who was staring openly, and I said, “What do I-“

  Before I could get to the word do , I felt my body suddenly warp. I felt my shoulders widen along with my waist as my hips narrowed. I got taller, acutely aware of every single inch that shifted as I changed. With a final bounce, my heavy boobs withdrew into my torso. The robe sealed around me and then split at the waist. It wasn’t long before I was standing there in my normal form, with no sign that I had ever been a smoking hot killer nun.

  “What the hell?” said Marcus, sounding slightly disappointed. I glared at him and walked out of the bathroom, noticing in passing that he’d turned the game console off.

  I stopped and stared at the game’s cover, sitting there on top of the console. I remembered what Corrie had said about her wish. “No fucking way ,” I said, relishing the chance to swear again. For some reason, I hadn’t been able to do so while in the body of Chainsaw Madonna.

  “What?” said Marcus.

  “Corrie made a wish when she blew out the candles,” I said.

  He blinked. This was a bit off-track for him. “Uh. So what?”

  “She wished that I knew what it felt like to be like her! Or the women in this game!” I picked up the cover and showed it to him, and he focused on the half-dozen ridiculously proportioned women without difficulty.