Holly A tiny experiment of story by Kim Ott. I was woken up by the sound of the telephone. It rang tyrannically from the stand next to my bed. I sat up and wiped the cobwebs from my eyes and yawned. 'Who would be calling me at 2 in the morning?' I thought. This had better be important. That warm shroud of heat one develops while sleeping slowly leaving my shoulders. I picked up the phone and tried not to sound groggy. "Hello?" I managed, my voice mumbly from sleep. "Holly, is that you?" The voice on the other end of the phone asked. He sounded urgent. "No, I think you have the wrong number... hey, what the..." I began to say when I felt tiny locks of hair begin streaming down the sides of my face. It was one or two at first, then an entire shower upon my ears, neck, and shoulders. I was still half asleep and didn't understand what was happening. I was dreaming, right?
I heard the muffled words on the other side of the line as I tried to set the phone down and hang up. This was just too bizarre. But my hand would not let go. It was as if it were glued to my palm. I looked at the fingers that refused to unclench. The nails were... painted? A brilliant maroon. I quickly looked at my free hand. Ditto for those too. What was going on here? I moved the phone back up to my face, brushed away thickening curls and spoke, "Who is this? What are you calling for?" I said as the soft cotton shirt I was wearing seemed to be shrink-wrapping to my arms, shoulders and chest. Now my clothing was changing too? I must be still sleeping... how else could one explain this sort of thing? "This is Charles, Holly, don't you recognize my voice? I know it's late but..." the mysterious voice called out into the darkness. No longer an enigma. It was Charles, whoever that was. Now that I thought of it... it did sound vaguely familiar. Yet this was getting too weird, to real. I tired to set the phone down again with the same result. Something small within me wanted to hear more. By now I could feel an entire new piece of clothing forming out of nothing at all beneath the skintight confines of my T-shirt. I was, well, there's really no other way to say this, growing a bra. I could feel the elastic straps creep up over my shoulders, feel the cups press softly against my chest, now much thinner and less muscular than a few seconds ago. The basketball shorts I was wearing to sleep in were changing shape as well. They no longer stretched to my knees but climbed upward in the small style popular in the early days of the sport. Beneath them my boxers were undergoing a similar transition; they felt like briefs, but much too tight than anything a man might wear. It was all happening so fast. Not being able to set down the phone, I once again entered into conversation, "Charles, um, how is it that you know me again?" I said as the longest portions of my hair reached the small of my back, my new bra finished growing and fastened itself between my shoulder blades, and my shorts diminished and felt like a young child's. The man answered excitedly, "Oh, I get it. You're being coy. You want me to compliment you. I see..." The voice which was becoming more and more familiar with the passage of time slyly remarked. It wandered the recesses of my brain looking for recognition. "Yes, describe exactly what it is you like about me," I said finding my voice rising a whole octave. I rubbed at my throat with my free hand. I no longer had an Adam's apple. Gone. Just like that. So was the late night stubble of beard. "Well, I've always loved your hair," the voice answered longingly. I stood up out of bed; phone in hand, for I could still not let it go. I didn't much want to anymore. Things had progressed too far. May as well ride it out. "The way it is so curly, and so long... I love pressing my face in it and smelling it softly..." A draft from nowhere tickled the back of my neck. I whirled around in the dark but no one was there. Eerie. "What else," I inquired struggling to see my reflection in the mirror over my dresser. I could not pull the phone line far enough. "Well, you've always kept yourself so skinny... yet you eat so much," The man said and I immediately felt an invisible vice clamp down around my middle. I watched it cave inwards as my body became an hourglass. "But you've always had such nice hips... and your behind, well I can't describe it with justice." "Ooooh!" I said over the phone as my hips creaked wider, mushrooming entire inches. They felt somewhat higher up on my body too. Now my short-shorts seemed even less substantial. And that was before I felt the flesh of my bottom pooling thicker, filling the seat of my mesh garment tight, the lower portions of my pert behind hanging just below the edge where the cloth stopped. I felt the cool air on those exposed bits of cheek. But it didn't feel strange, at least not after a while. My bottom felt so compact, but in a way, quite right. "Yes, go on..." I whispered into the phone in a slight moan, I had given into Charles the stranger and whatever he was doing to me, it felt too good to let go. "You're really getting a kick out of this aren't you? Well, let's see, of all the things I can say about your face... the way your tiny nose sticks up at the end, like a little piglet..." he continued, laughing at his joke. I felt my face abound with twitches, felt my cheeks grow round, my lashes lengthen, my lips fill up full and plump. I licked them quickly. My nose upon his words shrank down to a tiny shape, and I could feel it perk up at the tip. I giggled at the ticklish feeling, and at the end of the laugh I snorted like some impossibly delicate, feminine pig. "Ha ha ha, and lets see, well I know you've always hated them, but your tits are..." Charles began. "MMMMmmmm..." I hummed feeling a warmth spread out beneath the loose folds of my bra which up to this point were entirely useless. That wasn't so for long. Like an electric current, the flesh beneath tingled and expanded. I filled the cups ever so slowly, felt the straps bite down upon my shoulders and back, subtly at first. I saw the under- garment lift my blossoming body upward. The tight fabric of my shirt clung pleasantly to my swelling chest, I could see my deepening curves grow and define themselves. "Charles, what do you like about them..." "Well, they aren't too big but they are far from small, just right, and perky. And I love how you cram them into that intricate lacy underwear so that they press together as if they might burst..." "Oh my..." I cried out as my breasts continued to increase in size. I felt the cups of my brassiere slide down as the flesh beneath grew almost too much to bear. I felt my boobs press upward and together, if I weren't wearing a tee shirt I would have drowned in my own cleavage. "And I know this is sensitive, but I love how much your body has been changing lately. And with everything you're still just as lovely as the day I married you..." Charles said ominously. 'What did he mean by that second to last sentence?' I thought as I relished in the new found sensitivity up top. Forget that, what about that LAST sentence! I looked at the hand upon the phone and saw to my amazement a beautiful diamond ring sparkling upon my ring thin finger. It shimmered even in the shadows of my bedroom. My body was still subtly modifying but I no longer paid attention. I knew I was still shrinking mostly, growing shorter, less muscular, more petite. But the thought that dominated my mind... I was married? My life was whirling round me anew. "That's why I'm calling so late my dear. I knew you were angry with my leaving this weekend, but as it turns out I'm coming home early, I'll be able to celebrate out our 3rd anniversary..." 'I've been married three years,' I thought still begging to see myself in reflection through the gloom of the darkened bedroom. I had to finishing up, what else could there be? I felt so wonderful, so youthful and enthusiastically warm. "And things must be getting tough on you being so far along and everything..." Charles said and the words entered my ears and struggled to make sense. Faintly I could feel a slipping presence, a twisting upward between my legs, an implanting of something within me. That something was warm and tight and began to build far inside me. One second it was there out of nothing, the next it was stoking higher and higher. "So far along..." I echoed trying to get Charles to be more specific, even as the waistband of my shorts began to constrict upon my pale skin. It wasn't the shorts that were shrinking; it was my body that was... "Yes, what are you, 35, 36 weeks along? Not much time left honey and I'll be one happy father." Charles dropped the utterance that exploded powerfully within my abdomen. I pulled the phone away from my cheek and let out a loud "oomph,' as if the something within me had let off a grenade. But it was a warm liquid explosion, and it just kept pushing and pushing outward. I saw what it was doing to my body and I looked on with awe. What should have taken months went by in mere seconds as the skin of my belly tightened, constricting tighter and tighter. The taught dome of my belly expanded bigger and bigger, I was forced to spread my legs to get a better stance. My shirt quickly adapted though, and fell into a maternity style descending rapidly, covering my bloating swollen middle, which was not done growing, far from it. The gown fell a long ways and even eclipsed the bottoms of my shorts. I brought the phone back to my face and with my free hand began stroking the round bulge that would not stop blooming. How big would I get? Was Charles telling the truth? Was I that close to... motherhood!? "You don't think I'm gross and unattractive?" I whimpered into the phone, all masculinity divorced from my voice. I sounded like an adolescent girl, I found myself trying to sound like one. Still, it wasn't far from the truth, if I had been married three years then I must have married young. I may have just entered my twenties. "No, I think the pregnancy has enhanced your beauty. I realize you're very big, but you've been eating so well... the rest of you is still so skinny, your belly looks out of place if it wasn't for your..." Charles continued and I felt my belly aching forward. It was huge, incredibly big and I could feel the child within it squirm. It was all so new and wonderful. "It would look out of place if your breasts hadn't filled out along with it..." "Mmmmmmm..." I moaned as my bra morphed unnoticeably into a maternity under-garment and my breasts became even more ultra-sensitive, pushed to the limits that my slim young body could afford. They ripened like fruit that refused to fall and have escaped being plucked, for a moment I thought my maternity gown would split down the middle in two places, above and below. It held, seemingly just barely. "I love your body so much that I don't even mind when you persist in wearing those old T-shirts of yours, the ones that can't cover you properly and let your huge belly just poke out there for all to see. It's like you're telling the world that you're proud to have had sex, and that this was the result. Actually, I think your belly itself is sort of sexy..." Charles finished. The gown I had been wearing instantly crept back up, and I was surprised to find the enormity of my belly in full view. The gown transformed into a baby T-shirt that refused to stop diminishing, by the end it seemed sleeveless, its neck very tight upon my own, across my breasts so very tight, its bottom hem not even hinting at covering my belly. "It would have been worse if you had stretch-marks but your skin is so supple..." he went on and I felt the tiny red lines that accompanied the transformation disappear off my sides and hips. "Even though you are carrying twins..." I would have dropped the phone again were it not fused to my palm. Another second, lesser explosion went off in my womb and I felt my body giving way once more, providing room for another human life. If I had been big before, I was monstrous now. My legs were getting sore just standing there, and I felt if I took in too deep of breath, my breasts might begin to leak all over myself. "But honey, here's my surprise. I know how trying this pregnancy has been for you, how I've been in and out on business, and I love how the further you've developed the more... warm you have been for me..." between my legs I felt myself gently humming, just the sound of words made me want to touch myself down there... "So that's why I've come home and you can do what you like with me." And with that the doorbell rang. The phone finally fell from my hand and the rest of the room shimmered like a desert mirage. It was no longer like my old room, but was in every way indicative of a space with provisions for my new life and my new body. That new body that felt so full and beautiful and right and... and then my husband came into the bedroom, a tall dark silhouette in the doorway. He took me in an embrace. I could not even make out his face, I did not know what he looked like, but he smelled good as his powerful tall body wrapped around me. As big as I was he swallowed me up. Oh, I would have my way with him alright. I waddled over to the bed and sat down, pealing the T-shirt from off my body and beckoning him with my index finger. He couldn't get his pants off fast enough.