2009

Monday

It was turning out to be a damn crap Monday.

Michelle sat in her subway seat, clutching her briefcase in one hand, with the other hand resting on the handle of her suitcase. She sighed as the train click-clacked through its subterranean journey, her loose blouse barely shifting as her body took in and let out the stale air.

As the train made a small lurch Michelle’s hand clutched tighter to the suitcase – why oh why did she have to report that roach? Now the whole building was being fumigated after a significantly high number of additional bugs had been discovered throughout. She had been forced to take a hotel room for the week while the exterminators did their work. She hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything.

The train lurched again, this time as it slowed for its next stop, the last before Michelle was set to exit. The rougher movement brought a strand of brunette hair down in front of the passenger’s face, and she released her hand from the briefcase just long enough to brush the hair back behind her ear.

Most of the subway stops Michelle silently hissed at as they elongated the length of time she had to spend on the smelly metal worm, but this one she didn’t mind as much.

This one meant the Jogger was getting on.

Michelle couldn’t help smile as the man entered – always this stop, always similarly dressed. He must have been in his late twenties, with a great swimmer’s build.

He was always dressed in a t-shirt and jogging shorts with an MP3 player plugged into his ears, and depending on where he sat Michelle simply stared at him dreamily until her stop came – one time actually having to get off at the stop following hers after getting particularly lost in her thoughts.

Michelle didn’t know if he was going to jog in the park, or going to some gym, or just seeing his next mistress for the day, but she enjoyed every moment he was on the train.

He took a seat down near the rear of the car, on the side across from her. Michelle tried to casually glance down the car to take him in, but this was a particularly awkward angle, and she was sure he’d know she was watching. But this time it almost seemed…was he staring back?

Michelle almost couldn’t believe it, was he actually –

Another bump from the train sent her suitcase lurching to the side, and as the blushing woman reached to stop it she realized what the Jogger was staring at – the Sports Bra Slut.

Michelle figured the woman she had nicknamed “Sports Bra Slut” was the female equivalent to the Jogger. She had on a pair of short shorts that were practically underwear in themselves, and a gray sports bra that was too small for her breasts. Michelle imagined they were DDs trapped in a C cup, sinful grapefruits crammed into too small a space and smashed against her chest and overflowing from her bra. Sports Bra Slut also always had handy some sort of trashy fantasy romance novel in her hands – today it was Heaving Thunder. A female elf on the cover was laying back against bed sheets with some Norse-looking man leaning over her.

The woman reminded Michelle of the cheerleaders who had mocked her in college for trying out for the team. Jealous, her dislike for the woman had come automatically the first time she set eyes on her.

Michelle looked back to the Jogger and caught him looking at Sports Bra Slut with the same expression she knew she looked at him with. Michelle couldn’t compete. She let out another sigh as the train came to a rest at her stop. Nothing of hers jiggled, but the Sports Bra Slut had to practically catch her breasts with each braking. The eyes of every man on the train watched them bounce like there was fucking song lyrics scrolling under them.

Yep, it was definitely going to be a crap Monday.

Once off the train Michelle’s black heals clicked, and her suitcase’s wheel’s squeaked, on the marble floor of her office building. Her skirt sifted back and forth across her long smooth legs as she strutted to the elevator.

Arriving at her floor, Michelle sulked over to her desk. Leaving the suitcase beside her cube and placing the briefcase on the top, she sat her shapely ass in her chair and switched on her PC.

“Miss Spending,” a male voice boomed over her shoulder as Michelle typed in her password and logged into the system. She turned around to face Philbin Krow, the only positive thing about coming to work. If she ranked the Jogger as a 9 in the Looks Department, Phil was an 11 – tall, dark, handsome, broad shouldered, and a solid jaw line that was all wrapped around a serious flirt. His suit was cut perfectly for his body, and the female worker found her breathing pick up a bit when she was around him.

Unfortunately, she had never had the guts to ask him out, despite his continual attentions. She was too scared to, despite his constant come-ons. Michelle probably would have reported him to Human Resources long ago if she hadn’t wanted to get into his pants.

Michelle also attributed her trepidation in asking him out because Phil was her boss, Manager of Eastern Team. That didn’t help alleviate any of her fear of what would happen should she be turned down.

“Mr. Krow,” Michelle smiled back, their usual morning ritual. Phil Krow was on a first name basis with every set of T&A in the office, but he liked to start the day professionally.

“So, what’s the suitcase for, ‘Chelle?” Phil asked, meandering around her desk and giving the case a nudge with his foot, “Finally going on the run from your life of sin and passion?” He flashed his smile at her. Michelle melted a bit, and then collected herself.

“No, uh, nothing as exciting,” Michelle replied, actually a bit embarrassed, “My building is being fumigated so I have to stay at a hotel this week, starting tonight. I just hope I packed everything.”

“Well,” Phil said, under his breath and leaning forward a bit, Michelle leaning to meet him, “If you run out of underwear…don’t worry about it.” Phil gave her a wink, flashed another smile, patted her cubicle wall with the palm of one hand, and strolled away. Michelle laughed to herself as she watched his ass shake away. It was far from Phil’s best line, but they couldn’t all be winners, and she began starting up her computer systems.

“Miss Spending!” This time it was a female voice that boomed over Michelle’s shoulder. Michelle spun around in her chair, all business this time. The voice belonged to someone not to be trifled with.

Michelle stood up as the Manager of Western Team, Nancy Schowe, approached Michelle’s desk. Ms. Schowe was the antithesis of Phil; all business, intense, and professional to a fault. The only thing Phil and Ms. Schowe shared was a similar choice in style; Nancy was wearing a tight cut pants suit, and her short-cut platinum blonde hair was combed back. Trailing behind, looking almost frightened to be in her presence, was a girl Michelle didn’t recognize.

“Spending, this is Allison Pue, she’s the new hire on Western Team,” Ms. Schowe explained, allowing them to shake hands briefly. Allison was wearing an outfit similar to Michelle’s except she filled it out better. Fine brown hairs flitted across her glasses as Allison took her position next to Ms. Schowe; the new girl looked very uncertain of what to do with herself.

“Pleased to meet you, Allison, I’m-” Ms. Schowe interrupted her.

“You’ll be showing her the pipeline system tomorrow, so be here, no excuses,” Ms. Schowe explained, never afraid to stress her workers’ at-will employment to “motivate.” Almost walking away before finishing their conversation, she continued, “Ms. Pue is taking on the night shift and will need some help tomorrow getting things up and running before you leave for the evening. I want her doing real work as quickly as possible. But she gets to spend today filling out forms in Human Resources.”

Michelle could only watch them leave, sending a weak wave in Allison’s direction, although she was quite happy she didn’t have to spend all morning with that nightmare of a woman. Michelle sat back down at her desk.

The rest of the day went without any surprises. Phil had stopped by a few more times, but as usual she could only flirt along with him – constantly afraid of asking him what he was doing after work. 6 o’clock came around and Michelle shut down her computer, sealed up her briefcase, grabbed her suitcase, and left for the subway.

Getting on the train heading for her hotel, Michelle discovered that she had no choice but to stand. Normally she had no issues with that, her feet could usually handle the heels, but this time she was forced to hover over the seated Sports Bra Slut. The woman’s skin glistened slightly with what Michelle hoped were droplets from a fresh shower.

Since the only other way for Michelle to situate herself would put her face first into the hairy back of a rather burly man pushed up against her, she had no choice but to stand facing the Sports Bra Slut. The other woman was bent over and reading her book, so Michelle also had an ample view of the Sports Bra Slut’s massive and bulging cleavage.

It seemed strange that for a woman Michelle thought she’d seen go out for a workout every day for who knew how long, the Sports Bra Slut never seemed to gain any muscle. The only thing getting bigger was the canyon of the woman’s breasts as she breathed with her under-sized bra. The whole thing reminded Michelle of the outfits those slutty cheerleaders wore. She shook the thought away – she couldn’t believe that five years out of college had not yet diminished her jealousy.

Finally reaching her station, the irritated woman came up onto the street level at her normal subway stop and walked the few extra blocks to her hotel. It was actually quite close to her apartment building, so she had only needed to modify her morning schedule to account for the few extra minutes of walking.

The hotel was in one of the small pockets of nightlife the city had, and Michelle walked past a number of bars, booming dance clubs, and some seedier establishments before getting to the Solomon Building where she had booked her temporary dwelling.

She checked in and got her key – she was in Room 2739.

Throwing open the door and turning on the light, Michelle looked at the fairly bare space. There was one bedroom and then a separate bathroom. A fairly well-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, a chair to one side and a nightstand with lamp and alarm clock on the other. A dresser with a TV atop it was against the wall across from the bed. A body-length mirror hung next to it, and beside that sat a desk and chair. Angled from there was the door to the bathroom. A small closet sat next to the bathroom, only accessible through a door next to where Michelle was standing in the doorway. A large window and AC unit ran across the far wall, parallel to the bed.

“This’ll do,” she sighed.

Michelle put down her briefcase, closed the door, and wheeled her suitcase over to the bed. Lying it down, she unzipped the case and first removed her laptop. She placed it and all the cords on the desk – at least the room came with free internet.

Michelle then emptied the suitcase, placing some items in the dresser and hanging her skirts and jackets in the closet. She hadn’t noticed them earlier, but beneath one of the wrinkle-flaps were a few blouses that had been left in the suitcase from her vacation after college. She had been a heavier girl once, and these wouldn’t properly fit her currently trimmer body shape. While Michelle didn’t work out, eating healthier and doing a little jogging now and then had managed to give her a nice trim stomach and svelter outline.

Putting her suitcase away in the closet she pulled out a laundry bag and hung it on the doorknob. She unlatched her skirt and let it fall around her legs, and took off her jacket. She placed these to the side for dry cleaning. She unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it in the bag, leaving her in just her black panties, bra, and high heels.

Normally she would have taken the heels off right after entering the room, but she was still freaked out about the cockroach she had seen in her own apartment, and since she didn’t know just how clean the floor was she opted to keep the shoes on for now. She regretted not packing slippers, but it had not been a concern she’d accounted for.

Michelle walked over and sat down on the bed. While normally she would have stripped down entirely, she opted to leave on her panties and bra. She wanted to keep the window open, and while there weren’t any other buildings nearby tall enough for there to be anyone able to see in, Michelle felt more comfortable leaving on these last pieces of fabric. She looked down the bed and across to the mirror on the wall. She puffed out her chest and gave her profile a close scrutiny.

With a sigh she leaned back and let herself flop across the bed. For a moment she stared up at the ceiling, counting cracks and missing her apartment. She then turned her attention towards her chest…she wasn’t sure why she was so concerned about not letting anyone see her topless, it wasn’t as if there was that much to see. Even in her a-cup bra her nipples only barely brushed the inner fabric. She thought maybe that was also a part of why she was afraid to ask out Phil…fear that he’d be dissatisfied once he got her bra off.

Michelle sat up and shook away these thoughts. She was a modern woman, and she was better than such doubts! She set the hotel alarm clock to wake her in time for work so she wouldn’t forget, and looked for the TV remote. Not seeing it on the nightstand, she opened the table’s lone drawer, and saw the wonderful piece of black plastic rocking back and forth next to a Gideon’s.

Grabbing the remote, Michelle turned it towards the TV and hit PWR.

Nothing happened.

Clicking it a few more times, Michelle turned it over and opened the battery compartment in frustration.

Empty.

Michelle groaned.

“Just my luck,” she muttered, letting the remote drop back into the drawer. She let out another deep breath, when something in the drawer caught her eye.

The cover of the Gideon’s Bible was cracked open a bit, like something was inside and keeping it from closing. Michelle picked up the book, and a strange metal charm slid out into her other hand.

Examining her find, Michelle found it to be sort of a cross between a necklace pendant and a pocket watch. It was almost too small and strangely shaped to be a watch, but it was ornately decorated. A small button similar to the flip-release of a pocket watch poked out of one side.

Out of curiosity Michelle gave the button a push. The front of the piece flipped open with a flash of fire and smoke.

Startled, Michelle leapt up from the bed, the Bible slipping from her hand and landing with a flat THUD back in the drawer. But Michelle still held onto the pendant, her hand locked in shock, as a stream of fire, smoke, and ash erupted from it and began to collect in the short hallway between her and the door of the room. Simply standing in silent disbelief, Michelle watched as the shapeless cloud began to take on an actual form, the fire being encased in the smoke, and the ash wrapping around it, seeming to form…a body?

It was only a few seconds, and Michelle was suddenly in the presence of what clearly seemed to be a woman made of ash and fire floating in her hotel room. The figure was bosomy and gray, the flicker of ignition behind the creature’s eyes, and flames licking up atop her head. Somehow the ceiling refrained from burning.

The ashy thing seemed to be slightly disorientated, almost looking like it had a headache. But then it locked eyes on Michelle and broke into a slow grin.

“Greetings, female human,” the being spoke, opening its arms to Michelle, “I am Scrim, I thank you for releasing me. How may I help you?”

“What, um…” Michelle muttered, backing up until she felt the mattress of the bed against her legs. She knew she should be screaming. Running. Freaking the fuck out. But something kept her calm.

“Are you…some sort of genie?”

“Genie? No, I am an ifrit. I am temporarily bound to this dwelling, and will grant you desires during your tenure here.”

“What, like wishes?” Michelle asked.

“One could say that, yes. What desire of yours can I provide for you this evening?”

Michelle looked at the ifrit, whose form held two large ashy breasts which hung in the air with the same disregard for gravity as the rest of her body. Michelle thought back to the train, then to college…

“Oh, a view…” the creature interrupted Michelle’s thoughts, flying over to the window and peering out.

“So, is there anything I can’t ask for?” Michelle asked, nibbling her lower lip and turning around to follow the floating figure across the room. Michelle bumped the front of her legs into the mattress this time, her mind lost in possibilities.

“I can grant any request, but I can only make changes to you…unless someone else has granted acceptance by staying here with you, has anyone else checked in with you?” Scrim answered, turning around and facing Michelle.

“No, it’s just me, I-”

“So I sensed, but I always ask – things have changed so much sometimes it is hard to adapt,” Scrim interrupted, suddenly taking on a very serious tone,  “If you do have a request please make it quickly, I can only survive so long outside my haven before I dissipate into nothingness.”

“Oh, well, uh, I guess for my first wish I want my breasts to be as big as any of the cheerleaders’ that I went to college with,” Michelle blurted out.

“One moment while I sense the vibrations of the universe to find the information I need…” Scrim closed her eyes and was still a moment. Just when Michelle thought something was wrong Scrim jumped to life again.

“Ah ha!” Scrim cried out, making a strange motion towards Michelle, “As big as cheerleaders they shall be!”

With that Scrim suddenly exploded into a fireball, and the ash, smoke, and ember sucked back into the pendant still in Michelle’s hand, the lid clicking shut with force.

Michelle dropped the pendant on the bed and just stood for a moment, not really sure if any of that had just happened. Some of the panic that had been inexplicably staved off returned to her for a moment, but then faded away. Suddenly realizing what she had asked for, Michelle grabbed the cups of her bra and looked down at her chest, seeing no visible change.

“I must be going-”

A strange ‘jump’ in her chest interrupted her. She looked down again, and saw that her breasts had grown. Just a little. Another jolt, and Michelle saw for the first time her nipples push themselves up against the interior of her bra.

“Oh shit, my tits are growing!” the flabbergasted woman cried out, realizing that she wasn’t crazy and this was real! Another jolt drove the point home and pushed more of her flesh against the cups. And suddenly Michelle realized how really good it felt. She could feel herself getting damp between the legs as she gently touched the top of her expanding flesh – it was as if her tits were electrified.

Soon she could feel the sides of her breasts pushing against the fabric of the bra, thrusting out over the edges. She could feel the straps start to dig into her shoulders and back, and Michelle looked at her profile in the mirror as she removed the brassiere.

Her tits bounced free of their captivity, practically ejecting the bra from Michelle’s body. She stared, smiling at her altering chest as her tits approached the range of oranges. One hand was massaging them as the other hand began to snake down towards her moistening panties.

Then her breasts passed the range of oranges.

Michelle snapped out of her lusty haze for a minute and took a more analytical look at her bust. Her breasts were hanging in a natural shape, but still round and attractive looking.

And getting huge.

She brought her wandering hand back up and held her boobs in both hands as they grew out to grapefruit size. They felt really good, with her nipples hard and pointing out to the sides, but…

“I don’t remember any cheerleaders this big!”

Her chest was starting to get significantly heavy, and as her soft orbs approached bowling ball size she climbed onto the bed, maneuvering on her knees, and picked up the pendant. Pointing her hand out towards the TV, she clicked open the lid.

Another flash of fire and smoke erupted, and Scrim coalesced over the television.

“Hello again, female-“

“My name is Michelle!” she growing woman shouted, holding up her quickly developing watermelon sized breasts, which was not easy as they overflowed her hands, “And why are these so big?”

“It is simple,” replied Scrim, floating down to look closer at them, “You requested that I make your breasts as big as the women you call ‘cheerleaders.’ In accordance, I have placed upon you a hex which will match your mammaries to their mass.”

“What? You mean you…? No! I meant just the mass of their breasts, not their entire bodies,” Michelle barked, her arms now overflowing in soft flesh. Her areolas were nearing the size of her palms, with nipples that would have shattered shotglasses. Panic was starting to overcome the supernatural calmness.

“My apologies. You may request that I alter their size,” Scrim said, returning to her previous altitude in the room.

“Yes, yes, I wish they were smaller!” Michelle blurted out.

“I meant you may request that I alter their size tomorrow, you have already had one request today,” Scrim answered, folding her hands across her chest, ashy dust billowing from her body.

“What? You said I get wishes for as long as I am here!” Michelle exclaimed. Her breasts were so heavy now she had to rest them on the mattress, her back bent as if bowing to the insolent creature above her. She didn’t know of a regulation sized sports ball to compare her breasts to anymore – they were just big and of significant weight.

“Yes, one a day for your stay. Would you like to hear any other restrictions?” asked Scrim.

“Yes, thanks, I would rank those as a high priority next time!” Michelle growled, adjusting herself as her breasts now started to grow against the bed, pushing her body upwards.

“One a day for your stay, I can make changes to no one or thing other than yourself per my earlier explanation of exception, and I can only grant your bidding when you are within this room,” Scrim said, putting up a finger for each point, “And now I must rest. Good evening, human Michelle, I will see you again in the morn. Please enjoy your granted request.” And with that the ifrit again burst into a ball of blaze and cinders and returned to the pendant.

Michelle was now kneeling on the bed, as her breasts seemed to shudder out their final advance, leaving her attached to two fleshy beach balls she couldn’t lift. Her back was nearly straight upright, and she was stuck staring at herself in the mirror on the wall. Michelle could see her areolas had stretched to the size of dinner plates, her nipples nearly the size of soda cans. Her breathing was ragged as she stared at the absurdity she had become.

But she wasn’t hurt, far from suffocating herself or befalling any other danger, and she now knew she could fix the issue in the morning.

“Well girl,” she finally sighed, “You did ask for ‘em.”

The desire that had been burning betwixt her legs had been snuffed out with the panic and surprise, so Michelle decided to resist the intense sexual sensitivity still present in her blimps and go to sleep. She had work in the morning, after all.

Stretching her right foot up and towards her as far is it would go, she was able to reach back and unbuckle her high heel, which bounced off the bed onto the floor. She repeated the same thing for the left heel.

Michelle found she couldn’t even drag her breasts across the bed without really feeling a painful pull on her chest, so instead she started to lean backwards and slowly pivot them. This idea was quickly aborted, as Michelle realized she didn’t want to be crushed by her tits, or at the very least pinned under them.

Instead, Michelle used her feet to pull a pillow within reach, which she placed on her massive cleavage. Since she couldn’t reach the wall switch for the lights, she pulled the blanket up, wrapped it around her body and face, and kneeled against her breasts, waiting to pass out from exhaustion.

Sleep came faster than she expected.

The next part of Room 2739 continues tomorrow!