A Body Part Merge and Breast Expansion Story

by Dan Standing

Olivia pulled the fish nets over her long, supernaturally smooth legs. She loved magic. Before she learned all those little spells shaving her legs was such a hassle. Now, thanks to a few ancient words, body hair was no longer an issue.

Standing up from her dressing room chair she sauntered over to her mirror. Besides the fish nets and a pair of black frilly panties she was nude, and she studied her reflection. Magic had been able to do many great things for her beauty and stage presence. Her hair was a shimmering dark brown, free of split ends and tied in a tight bun whenever she needed it to be. Her facial features, once plain and large and round, had been remade small and dainty and exotic. Her skin was blemish free, and after dedicating many months in the gym she’d locked her physique at the perfect balance between athletic and classically feminine. She’d even permanently tweaked her posture and walk, so that she always kept her back straight and swung her legs in the most sexy way possible. Although she’d never meant to be forced to do that all the time, even off stage, it was something she’d gotten used to. She smiled, her deep red lips parting to reveal straight pearly teeth. She was practically perfect in every way.

The one thing she had never been able to adjust were her breasts. Small and pert, there wasn’t actually anything wrong with them. But as a stage magician, who needed everything about her visible all the way back to the cheap seats, Olivia could not say that she was happy with them. She’d quickly learned that magic could subtract, and it could combine, but it could not create from nothing. Thus, her breasts had never had a chance to benefit from one of her spells.

Reaching back to her clothing rack Olivia picked up the corset she used to squeeze what little cleavage she could from her bosom. Like most of her stage outfit it was black, and she slipped it around herself. The magician had just pulled the first few strings tight when there was a knock on her door.

“I’m busy, please come back after the show,” Olivia called out, angrily glancing at the clock on her dresser. The stage hands all knew not to bother her until fifteen minutes before curtain, which meant the useless bouncers had let yet another pervy fan wander backstage.

It was only now that Olivia began to wonder if she’d locked her dressing room door.

“I’m afraid this can’t wait,” the voice of a young woman entered the room, along with the rest of her. Olivia turned sharply to scold the intruder, but found a gun leveled on her nose. “I need answers now.”

Olivia’s eyes uncrossed from their focus on the metal barrel and ran down the woman’s arms to her face. She was young, possibly only five years younger than the “Early 30s” look that Olivia had crafted for herself. Blond tresses framed a face that was quite serious about using the weapon held steady in her hands. A hooded sweatshirt and jeans covered the rest of her.

“What sort of questions are you posing?” Olivia asked. The gun posed no mortal threat to her. She’d made herself impervious to such acts of violence after a show in Motor City went particularly bad. However, a bullet to the nose would still smart like the dickens, and the commotion would likely cause her evening act to be delayed at best, if not fully cancelled.

And that meant refunds.

For now it was best to play along.

“What happened to Juliette Gondling?”

“Juliette?” Olivia feigned ignorance in the sound of her response. The name absolutely rang a bell. In fact, she could remember that act quite well.

It was a tried and true spell, designed to swap a volunteer – housed in a closet rolled on stage – with a rabbit – kept in a nearby pantry – and then switch them back. She’d called the girl up on stage, who introduced herself as Juliette, and Olivia placed her in the tiny portable room.

The structure was from Olivia’s earlier stage shows, before she’d discovered magic was real and incorporated it into her act. So things like the closet still had vestiges of those days; fake walls, trap doors, and fabric slip holes. Olivia had told the girl to stand still and be quiet, but of course she didn’t listen. As the magician moved around the back of the small structure and began chanting the magic words a hand slipped through one of the fabric-colored holes and grabbed Olivia’s jacket, starting her and causing one word to be misspoken and the whole sentence interrupted.

Magic doesn’t react well to that sort of thing.

Juliette only managed to whisper out the back, “Ha! Figured out your-” before the skin of her hand began to darken and resemble fabric, then slipped back into the closet.

Thinking quickly Olivia used the toe of her show to drag out the pile of Juliette’s empty clothing through a hidden panel at the bottom of the closet. Hiding it behind one of her prop tables she opened the front-facing door to reveal the empty space to the audience, as if it was part of the show. Closing the door again the magician began chanting to herself a spell that, because of how much it drained her, she’d only attempted a handful of times. Concentrating on her memory of what Juliette looked like, she threw open the door and a glamour of the girl was visible to the audience.

As long as Olivia concentrated she could keep the image manifested and manipulate it like a puppet…but she also had to keep it within direct view. Since the magical hologram could not make sound she made the Juliette doppelgänger lean forward and whisper to her, as if asking an embarrassing question. Over her microphone Olivia “rephrased” what she’d been asked, directing the projection to use the restroom in the lobby.

She and the audience applauded as the doppel stepped down from the stage and quickly scurried towards the back of the theatre. As it neared the dark shadows before the rear doors Olivia demanded that all eyes be directed to the stage for the next trick, and when she was certain no one was paying Juliette any attention she let the image fade away.

One week later, two towns away, a pair of police officers stopped her after a show. Juliette had been reported missing, and they were asking if Olivia knew anything about the girl’s whereabouts. Her abandoned clothing had been transformed and disposed of that night, so the magician lied, saying the last time she’d seen the girl was the same time over 500 witnesses had seen her; leaving the stage of her own accord. With no reason to be suspected of any mundane wrong-doing Olivia hadn’t heard anything more of the incident.

Until now.

“I’m afraid I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Olivia responded to the girl’s question.

“I think you’re lying,” the gun weilder replied, adjusting the position of her legs. Olivia noted that while her intruder’s grip on the weapon was firm and her stance were sound, it was a large gun. Likely quite heavy. It would probably not take long for her to tire from holding it so high and with such tension.

“What makes you think I have anything to do with…what was her name?”

“You know her name,” the girl growled, her teeth gritting and her lips snarling. She cocked the gun, “I’ve eliminated every other posibble reason she could have, or would have, gone missing that night. You’re the last possibility! And you’re going to tell me why my best friend vanished after leaving your stage.”

Olivia’s eye twitched a little at the word ‘vanished’ before she realized the girl had not meant it literally.

“Is this the one the police visited me about?”

“Of course it is!” the intruder was beginning to get very twitchy, likely as a reaction to her waning ability to hold up the gun, “Who do you think I would-”

knock knock knock

“Fifteen minutes, Olivia.”

The stage manager’s voice echoed deeply through the door. Olivia was relieved that none would dare enter her room this close to show time, as she wasn’t sure how this woman would have reacted to a visitor. And they weren’t magically reinforced against bullets.

“Thank you!” Olivia replied. The girl’s head had turned towards the door, but it snapped back at Olivia’s response. Her face made clear her surprise that Olivia hadn’t called out for help. “No need to involve anyone else in our business. But I must say again, my dear, I had nothing to do with your friend’s disappearance. If you don’t believe me we have a little time to further discuss it, but eventually they will come in if I don’t show up when the curtain raises.”

“Then I’ll just have to go out with you. Magicians have assistants, right? I’m not leaving you until I know what happened to my friend!”

This girl was impossible. Olivia let out a long sigh. Even if she told her the truth there was no guaranteed her tale would be believed. In fact, she would probably think Olivia was mocking her and the situation would escalate. But what she had just heard sounded very much like permission.

And in magic, permission was everything.

“What’s your name?”

“Geraldine,” the girl replied. Her arms were starting to shake from the weight of the gun.

“Geraldine, do I understand you want to be with me, part of my act, at least until you learn what truly happened to your friend?”


It was the last word Geraldine ever spoke. The moment the reply left her lips the magician began speaking a language Geraldine had never heard before. Before should could tell Olivia to stop Geraldine’s entire body felt like it was getting soft. Her hands and arms, already sore and tired from holding the Glock she’d picked up at the pawn shop, began to feel soft.

But this wasn’t muscle fatigue. Her entire body was losing its structure. Her bones were bending, loosening, merging with her muscles. As her fingers lost their ability to grip the handle the gun fell, and Olivia caught it. The magician had leaned over to do so, and as she did Geraldine felt herself drawn towards her.

Under no control of her body Geraldine dove towards Olivia’s cleavage. She stretched out and connected with her – not contacted, no, connected. The moment her flesh touched the other woman’s it merged together as one. Geraldine’s mass leaped out of her clothes, leaving them a crumpling pile on the floor. The last thing she saw, the last thing she truly saw, was Olivia’s scant cleavage rushing towards her.

And then there was just warmth. And tightness. Geraldine’s reconfiguring form felt like it was trying to squeeze itself into a space too small. Skin was stretching, flesh compacting. The pressure was frustrating, but in a way…sexy? Geraldine couldn’t make sense of the sensations washing through her, but suddenly the pressure was gone. She was able to be full, and round, and slightly tugged on by what she realized was gravity.

Olivia moved, and Geraldine felt herself swing. A breeze washed over her hot skin, and it felt good. Really good over two particular spots. As Olivia’s motion stopped Geraldine felt herself swing, moving to and fro as momentum pulled at her. She was bumping into herself. The little claps were pleasant. Despite her confusion, and attempts at rage over whatever Olivia had just done to her, for some reason she could only seem to find herself…horny.

Suddenly she got a glimpse of an image. She could see Olivia. No…she could see through Olivia’s eyes, just for a second, and she’d seen…Olivia in her dressing room mirror? Except Olivia looked different. She’d taken off her corset and…her breasts! They were enormous! Larger than heads of lettuce! They…

“They’re you,” Olivia smiled. She ran a hand over the curve of each and Geraldine shuddered. She’d been horny before, now she was awash with desire. The two especially pleasurable spots were her nipples, and they popped to attention…each just bigger than Geraldine’s thumbs had been. “And you turned out larger than I expected, but certainly acceptable! Magic cannot kill, and I can barely hear your consciousness in there when I try, so I know you can understand what I am saying.”

Olivia smiled, tweaking her nipples and causing Geraldine to mentally cry out. She actually jiggled a little under her own power. This amused Olivia, who smiled. “You said you wanted to be with me and part of the show, which was just enough permission to let me turn you into my badly needed improved chest, so here we are. Of course, you specified that you’d do it to learn what happened to your friend, so let me show you.”

Geraldine continued to watch through Olivia’s eyes as the magician looked down at her own hips. The magic caster hooked her thumbs into the elastic of her black frilly panties, ran them back and forth for a moment, and then let the waist band snap back into place.

“Whatever she caused me to say when she interrupted my spell that night turned her into these. I don’t know exactly how, but these are her. For a little while I hoped there was a way to undo it, but turns out its a closed spell so she’s stuck like this for all time. Juliette is very very comfortable on me. I imagine she’d prefer to be used than stuck in a dark drawer all day so I wear her for practically every show.”

The titanic tits hanging from Olivia’s chest was aghast. Her best friend…a pair of panties? It was impossible. She’d never believed it if she weren’t already another woman’s bosom.

“And since, when I asked, you said you’d stick with me until at least finding out what happened to Juliette, well…I hope you enjoy being my breasts for the rest of my, our, life!”

A knock on the door alerted Olivia that show time was quickly approaching. As she magically adjusted her outfit to fit her new dimensions Geraldine tried to scream at her. But she couldn’t, even mentally. Everything felt so warm, so soft, so delicious, so…good. Every step, every jiggle, even the feeling of gravity’s pull on her followed by the suppport of the expanded corset holding her up for all to see was intoxicating.

Olivia completed getting dressed, decked out in fishnets, black boots, the corsette, and a red striped jacket. Geraldine shook and bobbed up and down in the corsette. Both women were adjusting to her place on Olivia’s chest, and the sexy strut the magician had cast upon herself did not make it easy. But that was Olivia’s problem; all Geraldine was really concentrating on was how she was rubbing and brushing against the fabric, her nipples trying so hard to burst through the stiff material of the corsette.

And then the warmth of the spotlights struck her.

Olivia had a few adjustments to make to how she presented her show, but by the end she was fully acclimated to her new back-row visible bust. When she took her final bow, beads of sweat running over the upper billowing curves of Geraldine, the bosom knew most of the crowd was really staring hard at her and not the performer.

And Geraldine knew Olivia was staring hard at one particular man in the second row of the theatre.

And it was clear that, while he was staring back, that stare was not all of his that was hard.

As Geraldine shivered inside of herself, the thought of his hands on her skin and his lips on her nips exciting her like nothing before, her concern for Juliette’s fate washed away.

Now Geraldine was simply sad her friend couldn’t join her.

Well, Juliette had always been a bit of a slut…maybe she was crotchless!