Pendant Changes 5 (Tuesday)

TUESDAY

Michelle awoke at six to the sounds of rain slamming against her window. Oh no! She pushed herself out of bed and looked at the wet streets, the leaves from the trees forming a pretty but slippery carpet on the ground. Well, what the hell! She wasn’t going to melt! She pulled on her fleece and marveled at how loose the waist was getting. Too bad it was still so tight in her legs. And why should it be shrinking, unless maybe from all her perspiration? Oh well! She added a windbreaker to her ensemble and that was all she needed. She was out the door at six-ten and on her way to the park. It felt great to be outside, even in the rain.

She ran a bit harder, wanting to challenge herself some more and to warm up more quickly. It felt so good to push herself, and every day she was doing better. She reached the park and started around the track, avoiding the puddles. There was a big one. She’d have to jump over it. Hey! Nice leap. She resumed her stride and looked ahead. Not many people were out today. But wasn’t that Kent Bennett, the All-State cross country runner, just ahead of her? He must be taking it easy today, not wanting to injure himself on the wet surface. Just for fun, Michelle accelerated a little bit more and slowly but steadily closed the gap between them. Imagine, passing Kent on the track — even if he WAS just out for a fun run. She pulled up next to him, and to her surprise, his face was red and he was breathing heavily. "Hi Kent!" she said. He nodded at her, seemingly unable to spare enough breath for a reply. Michelle felt sorry for him. He must be feeling sick. But he went out in the rain anyway! That’s real dedication, although maybe a bit dumb. Feeling inspired, she smiled at him, then he dropped back. Oh well. She’d never be able to do THAT on one of his GOOD days!

She couldn’t wait for school. It had been so much fun hanging out with Martin in the lunchroom and walking in the hall, arm in arm. Life couldn’t be better. It just couldn’t be!

The sound of the slamming door as Michelle left awakened Joe, a full fifty minutes before his alarm would have gone off. Two days in a row! He’ll get her for this! Just wait ’til she came back. The winds slammed a torrent of rain against the window. Was she absolutely bonkers? He turned on the radio next to his bed and listened to a few songs. The fog of sleep slowly cleared from his head. He was feeling so strange. Just walking around school yesterday with his books was tiring, and he’d missed another day of workouts. Well, not today! Pamela looked so sexy yesterday. What a pair she had, and she knew it too. Twice she had caught him looking at her, or at them, to be more precise. She’d frowned of course, but that’s the way girls were. They couldn’t just admit they liked it when you lusted after their bodies. Just thinking about her was such a turn on. His hand drifted down to his cock. No, not now. Maybe as a reward, once he’d done his exercises. It was nearly seven. He pushed himself out of bed, willing himself to think of something unsexy. Like Freddie. That deflated him quickly! Ha. He padded over to his stereo and put on Michelle’s CD. He SHOULD give it back to her and he would, IF she asked him nicely. Damn, the room looked funny. He shrugged and picked up the barbell. Ooooof! It felt heavy. He HAD to go back to doing it every day. He curled it once, twice, thrrrreeeee times. This was ridiculous! Four. Five. What was WRONG with him! He put the weights on the floor, his biceps crying out in pain. He flexed them carefully. LOOK at them! They’d definitely shrunk and gotten softer. He lay back down on his bed, feeling faint. Did he have some kind of fast-acting MS? This was horrible. He felt dizzy, frightened. He must be hyperventilating. He tried to calm himself down. He heard the door slam. Michelle again. She was clomping upstairs and suddenly pushed the door open.

"My CD!" she said brightly, going straight to his stereo. She stopped it and hit the eject button.

"Hey! You’re dripping all over my floor, one. Two, have you forgotten how to knock? And three, I was listening to that. Mom said you can’t just –"

"You’ve had it long enough!" Michelle said, popping it in the case, and left the room. Joe heard the bathroom door close. Shit! She’d be in there for an hour! Well, that would give him a chance to take it back, or take two others in its place.

In the editor’s office of a prominent New York newspaper, two men were arguing.

"Why are you bringing me The National Enquirer?"

"Read the lead article. The same story was picked up on the Today show. It’s been reported in several tabloids overseas and in Houston, Orlando, San Francisco and Colorado Springs. It’s also on Drudge and a third of the sports sites on the net. And similar stories are flooding their forums."

"Not exactly our usual reliable sources. Let me see. Mysterious female muscle growth stuns personal trainers. Yeah, she sure looks stunned. What else do you have? Woman scores knockout blow in battle of the sexes. What are we covering trailer trash crime now? Oh yes, sports pages: Lowest ever NBA score, 47-32. Chinese woman sets powerlifting records. Oh, this one’s good, Weapon from Jupiter turning Mars into Venus."

"Yeah, the Weekly World News angle."

"And now you’re giving me the Muscle Mag Forum. My Best Lifts!! My biceps are bigger than hubby’s. Hmmm, 83 replies on that one. Muscle Wasting Virus. 967 replies. Is that a lot?"

"In 8 hours? It damn well is!"

"Fine, so what does the NIH say? Johns Hopkins?"

"Nothing. No comment. The President’s science advisor has been muzzled by the White House. Harvard Medical School says they are studying the matter and may comment toward the end of the week."

The senior editor sighed. "Looks like you need your pants shortened, Ken."

"I know. And your sleeves look a bit long, Ed."

"Still, until someone in authority confirms the existence of that ray gun from Jupiter, I’m not going to risk the reputation of this newspaper to report a lot of speculation. Keep it on the sports pages. And fashion if you have to. But nothing in the news sections until we have an explanation. Or until the Post or the Wall Street Journal runs something we can attack."

"Right boss."

"I told you I’m NOT EATING FRUIT LOOPS!" Cindy shouted. She walked to the fridge and took out some fruit, several pieces of cheese, four eggs and a gallon of milk. "If you won’t make me what I want I’ll just make it myself!"

"But I already poured the cereal for you, and the milk! You can’t just waste it."

"You can eat it yourself, Mom, if you think it’s so great!" Cindy said crossly, breaking the eggs into a frying pan and taking a bite out of an apple.

"But it’s your favorite! And you’re getting so skinny. You’re just skin and bones!"

Cindy slammed her hand against the counter. There was an explosion of noise and a thin crack appeared across the top and along the base. "That’s a load of crap and you know it, Mom! Just leave me alone, will you?"

Mr. Barrett limped into the room, his cane taking the weight off his injured knee. He looked considerably shorter, just barely taller than his wife, and the skin of his large potbelly protruded beneath the edge of his shirt. "What’s going ON here?" he bellowed. He looked over at the counter. "Are you banging pots against this? Can’t you and your mother keep your fights to words at least? That’s going to cost a lot of money to redo!"

Cindy turned her back to her father and continued massaging her omelette. "I’m not banging pots," she said coldly.

There was a minute of silence while Cindy’s eggs sizzled. "Well Jim. I think YOU should eat the cereal, if you’re so worried about saving money." She put her hands on her hips and turned to stare at her husband. "It’s not like YOU need to worry about your figure."

Ten more seconds of silence followed. Cindy scraped the eggs off the pot and onto her plate. Mr. Barrett sighed. "I have to get off my knee." He sat down in front of the bowl of Fruit Loops. "Well, looks good to me," he said and started eating.

Frank had excused himself from third period gym, saying he needed more work in the weight room as preparation for the game. That part was easy. But now that he was there, he stood almost in fear before the machine. He’d had to drop from 10 to 40 pounds of weight just to get through the exercises yesterday and his arms felt worse today. Whatever that muscle wasting disease they were talking about on the net was, he was sure he had it. The whole team had it. They were doomed. Metro SOUTH would crush them, grind their bones into splinters, sweep through their front line in seconds. They would be outrun, outhit and outpassed. And there was nothing they could do about it. Already he was lifting less than he had as a freshman. He had no wind, no stamina. What would they do?

"So Frank, you going to lift or just think about it?"

Huh? Frank spun around. Sandy was standing at the door of the weight room, arms crossed, tapping her foot.

"What are you doing here? Weight room’s closed. Team only."

Sandy held out her hand with a piece of paper. "I have to miss practice today. Soccer coach gave me permission to work out here now instead."

Frank had thought he’d have some privacy. He NEEDED privacy. What did some DAMN GIRLS’ SOCCER COACH know about that. "She doesn’t have the right. Football priority. Big game Saturday. You have to leave." He stood as tall as he could and folded his arms across his chest.

Sandy laughed. "Because ….? Two of us here? Thirteen stations. Is there something top secret about your workout I’m not supposed to see?"

"What if everyone —

Sandy looked to her left and her right. "No one else here. Not a problem, Frank. So, are you lifting or chatting? I need my workout." Frank just stood there. "OK. I’ll just work here."

Sandy had seen Frank go in. She knew he wanted to be alone to work out what was happening to him. And she also knew that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted … ever again. She had no note — just a practice announcement. But Sandy had figured, correctly, that Frank would be too upset to check. Sandy went next to Frank’s station to do bench presses. She was adding a hundred pounds to what she had lifted last Thursday, loading up the weights, piling on more than Frank had ever done, even at his peak, then lay down, got ready and waited for the inevitable remark. She didn’t have to wait long.

"Are you nuts?" Frank asked mockingly. "You couldn’t lift that much in a million years. I can’t do that much. Harold’s the only one of the team who could. And don’t expect ME to spot you."

"Oh I don’t." Sandy took her hands off the bar and stood up to face Frank. She crossed her arms and gripped the bottom of her sweatshirt, pulled it off with one rapid movement and tossed it in the corner. She heard the sudden, involuntary intake of breath, saw Frank’s jaw drop, his knees nearly buckle, and the focus of his eyes shift as they traced the ups and downs and ins and outs of her bouldered biceps, her bulging shoulders, the ridged texture of her abs. What must he be thinking? His own strength mysteriously fading, his muscles shrinking, getting softer, weaker with each passing moment. Bad enough. And now this. To see a girl he’d looked down on now more muscular than he. MUCH more.

"B-b-b … h-h-h-how the hell did —

In just the three and a half days since their wishes Sandy’s muscles — the muscle part of her muscles — had exploded in size, the muscle tissue nearly doubling in thickness. Sandy figured it was due to a combination of Theresa’s wish for greater size, strength and fitness generally for all women, her own wish for more "effective" exercise and the fact that she was working out as hard and as long as she could possibly manage. She was sure she wouldn’t keep improving at this pace — once Theresa’s wish had run its course and women had reached their new "natural" size. But right now, combined with Frank’s rapidly diminishing prowess, the pace of her gains were sheer bliss. She already had her dream body but now she was going far beyond her dream, far beyond any dream of Frank’s, to a place neither Frank nor any other man would now ever be able to follow.

"How did I get muscles, Frank? Why, I eat right, sleep well and exercise regularly. Do you know any other way?"

"But girls don’t get muscles like that. You didn’t — nobody gets muscles that fast." He frowned angrily. "What are you, on the juice?"

Sandy was stung by that comment. "No way!"

Frank sneered. "Oh yes you are! That’s the only explanation. They’re ‘juice muscles.’"

Sandy turned red with anger. "Oh yeah? And what’s your explanation for yourself, Frank? You going for a sex change? Are you taking female hormones?"

"Why would I EVER do that? What are you talking about?"

"Look at yourself, Frank. Anybody can see your muscles are shrinking. And how much are you lifting? I can tell you lift less and less every day. Care to explain that?"

She noticed! Was it that obvious? Oh god! It was true! Everyone must know! It was like the sky was caving in on him. "I – I think I got this, uh, muscle wasting disease. I read about it … on the net. It’s, uh going around. You could, uh, get it too."

"Muscle WASTING disease? I don’t think so, Frank." She flexed her biceps quickly. "THESE certainly don’t look like they’re wasting away!" Sandy looked down at them happily. Why, they were the size of softballs now! They had grown even since her shower this morning! The changes must be accelerating as they neared equality and then shifted to a relative reversal in the positions of the sexes. And then, just how far would they go? Well, already she was bigger than Frank ever was. She was just as good an athlete as he was, probably better. And it just occurred to her what females’ earlier maturity would mean. Even though Frank was a year older than she was, as a girl she was probably at least two years ahead of Frank in maturity. And just as a nineteen year old boy SHOULD have developed more muscle than a seventeen year old, she would be taller and stronger than he was, even if boys and girls were completely equal. With Frank staring at her she settled down onto the table and did five quick presses. Why, that wasn’t enough weight! She was even stronger than she thought. She flipped another sixty pounds onto it and did ten more reps.

"Aaahhh! Exercise always makes me feel soooo good. How about you Frank? Aren’t you going to work in?"

"Uhh, no. I … I just remembered I have to do something," he muttered and left the room.

Frank sat in the Coach Mack’s office. Dave and Harold stood behind him. He just finished explaining what had happened in the weight room. Not that he wanted to "tattle" on Sandy. He always prided himself in handling these matters himself. But things were going too far and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he needed some help. "I just think you need to make another announcement about the weight room policies, especially during the season."

"Yeah, the season," Coach Mack said after an awkward pause. He picked up the football on his desk. It slipped out of his hand and bounced onto the floor. Dave picked it up and tossed it back. "Come on, boys. Let’s go out for a few minutes."

"In the rain?" Dave complained.

"Dave! Listen to Coach," Frank said, annoyed, as Coach Mack snarled out his yes.

They trooped through the locker room onto the field. Four cheerleaders watched with interest through the glass wall of the hallway and bowed their heads whispering to each other. Frank had had an eye on the tallest of them, Cheryl, since she’d made the squad earlier this year. She looked strangely big today, even taller than he was. Must be the perspective or some particularly high heels. She noticed his look and picked up her head, then put her hands on her hips and winked at him.

Coach Mack tossed the ball to Frank. Ok. "Run pattern two, Dave. On three!"

The ball felt large and heavy in his hand. Frank looked to his side over at the girls and then moved back three steps, cocked his arm and threw. The wet ball slipped out of his hands and fell behind him. "Damn!" he said.

Dave looked at him angrily. "Come on, Frank!"

"Fuck you! You wouldn’t have caught up with the ball anyway. You were way behind on the pattern."

"Shut up, both of you. Let’s do another one."

Dave jogged back while Frank held the ball, trying to get his fingers comfortable around it. He glanced at the girls. Two of them, Joanne and Marie, were giggling. Beth wore an amused smile. Cheryl looked worried.

"Pattern 4 left, guys. On five."

Frank dropped back again. He counted to five. Dave was nowhere near where he should have been so he waited until six and a half and threw. The ball went no more than half the distance, wobbling pathetically. Dave whirled around and stamped his foot. "What the HELL was that?"

"Yeah? Well where were YOU? You weren’t even close to the release point at five." Frank stopped when he noticed the coach shaking his head. "Coach, I just need to warm up. That’s all."

Coach Mack shook his head. "No, no. Don’t bother. I just wanted — never mind." He mumbled something and turned and went back into the school.

Dave jogged up to Frank. "What was THAT all about? I’ve never seen Coach look like that. He sure looked discouraged. I mean, your throws sucked, Frank, but it was just two throws. You’re still the best damn quarterback this school ever had."

"Thanks Dave. I just hope I can — oh, hi Cheryl. Marie." Frank frowned. What the hell! Cheryl WAS an inch taller than he was. And she WASN’T wearing heels.

Cheryl noticed Frank’s reaction and moved closer to him. "We were watching, Frank. Is something wrong?" she said, looking concerned.

"Nothing’s wrong, Cheryl. I’m just not warmed up. That’s all," he said. "It’ll all get straightened out in practice later. We’re focused on South Metro, not on a couple of snap throws."

Marie giggled and looked at Cheryl, who shot her a warning that Marie blithely ignored. "That may have BEEN your practice. WE hear the season’s over. No more practice. No South Metro game. No football team."

"WHAT?!! Are you crazy?"

Cheryl stepped forward. "It’s just a rumor Frank that’s all. We thought you should know. Although not THAT way." She glared at Marie. "Frank. Uh, I just wanted to tell you, uh, that I –"

"– that she likes you even if you’re shorter than she is and even if you’re too embarrassed to ask you out," Marie continued. Cheryl squealed and hit Marie who laughed and ran away just far enough to be out of range.

"I am so going to get you, Marie!" Cheryl said, waving her fist, her face bright red. "Yeah, uh, well … I do," she said quietly. "But uh, what I wanted to say, uh, is … Dave, you really should go see Cecile. She’s been out of school a couple of days. She’s really, uh, upset about … something. You DO still like her don’t you?"

"Well, yeah. What you do think? Cheryl, since when are you taller than both of us?"

"Since now. Dave go see her. And be nice, ok?"

Marie was laughing. "You BETTER be nice, Dave. That’s all the advice I have for YOU." She saw Cheryl’s look. "Oh man, I AM in trouble! Hee-hee!" She ran away from the school, still laughing.

"What’s THAT all about?" Dave asked. Cheryl looked at him and just shook her head.

Joe knew there was something strange happening. Even though no one had said anything officially, his friends were all whispering about it. He couldn’t stop flexing his biceps. It had to be his imagination, but it felt like they were smaller and softer every time. And the girls seemed to be growing. It was completely crazy. A nightmare.

But for an hour he had been happily preoccupied with something else. It was Spanish class, his last class of the day. And Pamela Brown was in the row next to him, one seat diagonally forward, the absolute perfect position for staring at her amazing breasts. She had been recklessly flaunting them this week, wearing tighter and tighter sweaters. Monday she had been incredible and now today he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. That is, them. Today her sweater was so tight he could almost feel the smooth warmth of her tits, his tongue could sense the erect nipple pressing against it. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he had lost some weight and his pants were loose he would have been squirming in discomfort. But even so, he was so horny that he was a bit concerned about cumming in his pants. Every time he nearly lost control he tried to focus again on the week’s vocabulary. Only in Spanish could "una viaje a la playa" soothe an erection.

Sadly the bell rang, his hour with Pamela was about to end. He sighed and gathered up his books slowly, waiting to let Pamela leave first so that he could tease out every last minute watching her. But she was taking her time too. Now everyone else was gone; just the two of them were in the classroom. She stood up and turned to face Joe and he looked up at her face, his eyes bypassing her fabulous jutting breasts only with great effort. Whoa! Did she look angry!

"Why are you STARING at me ALL the TIME!! Do you have ANY idea how RUDE and OFFENSIVE that is for a girl?!" Pamela knew she was coming on strong. She knew Joe had a crush on her. She’d heard he was a good kisser, even if he was a bit of a jerk. So she was curious. She knew she could be moody and demanding sometimes. Could Joe handle her?

Joe was taken aback by her reaction. Why did she dress like that if she didn’t want a boy to look? "Hey, I’m sorry. You should consider it a compliment."

"A COMPLIMENT? What, like, ‘aren’t you clever, Pamela, for growing such big tits?’ Is THAT what you mean by a compliment?" Pamela knew that whatever she said, in whatever tone, just mentioning her breasts would increase a boy’s interest. They were so funny that way.

"No, no, that’s not it. It’s that," he began to stand up, ready to make his big point, "that you’re very attractive." He rose to his feet, but to his shock, and hers too, he was an inch shorter than she was. It couldn’t be!

The little bud of interest she had felt quickly withered. High school boys are so small. Why, he was just a little boy! Now she knew she should stick to college boys, just as her best friend had told her. But they were so hard to find! Well, now that she didn’t care, at least she could indulge her annoyance. She looked down at him, all at once more confident, more aggressive. "And your opinion should MEAN something to me? Why?" She was grinning now. "Why should I care if some little wimp thinks I’M sexy?"

"You’re calling ME a wimp?!" he asked incredulously.

"I AM. Just look at you!"

If Joe had had no idea what Pamela was talking about her words would not have bothered him so much. But armed with her innate female intuition she had immediately pierced his defenses and hit his greatest insecurity. She’d pay for that. "Hey, NO girl talks to ME that way."

She giggled and covered her mouth, as if to hide her rudeness. "Are you, um, SURE about that? I would think you get that kind of remark ALL the time." She giggled again. "And, I mean, what are you going to DO about it?"

Joe had lived through years of big sister teasing and taunting and had found only one method that worked. Physical intimidation. But tickling or pinning his big sister at home was a very different thing from doing the same to Pamela Brown in Spanish class. How else WAS he supposed to put a girl in her place? The fact was, in purely verbal combat Michelle had always beaten him.

While he puzzled over this, Pamela, feeling she’d won, turned her back on Joe and prepared to go. This infuriated Joe even more. She was ignoring him! Without thinking he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back around. She was startled. Who did he think he was to touch her? Instinctively she slapped his face. But her slap today was nothing like what it would have been last week. Pamela was somewhat above average as an athlete even though she didn’t play on any school teams. She enjoyed gym class and swam at least three times a week to stay fit. Last week her slap would have certainly stung, but like most female slaps it would have done little more than send a message. This week, powered by her rapidly growing muscles, it hit Joe like a bolt of lightning, spinning his head and knocking him clear off his feet and onto his desk, with the upper third of his body hanging down halfway to the floor. He saw stars, fancy colors and flailed his arms trying to recover. Pamela was shocked and concerned at first that she had seriously hurt him, but Joe stood up, shakily, and seemed to be getting his bearings. Pamela held him up by his shoulders to make sure, while keeping him well at arms length.

"Hmmmph. Well, watch yourself," she said. She let go of him and left feeling a bit embarrassed at having shown him to be even more of a wimp than she had expected.

Michelle stood in a small alcove she’d found in the school’s music wing. It was empty — the band didn’t practice on Tuesdays — and she and Martin were kissing. But she could tell his heart wasn’t really in it. Was he having second thoughts already?

She broke off the kiss and stood against him, needing the physical contact to give her the courage to talk. "M-Martin. What’s wrong?" She looked at him earnestly. She couldn’t STAND it if he wanted to go back to the way things were. It would be HORRIBLE. He looked so upset. She couldn’t stand to see him like that.

"I … I don’t KNOW!"

"Are you … upset … about us?" she asked. Her voice sounded so small and scared to her ears.

He looked at her sadly. Oh no! He was going to say yes!

"No. That’s not it. Not exactly. It’s … haven’t you noticed?"

Her heart jumped. Was it OK?!! But what was he talking about? "Noticed what?" The truth was, she hadn’t been able to think about anything or anyone except Martin since Sunday afternoon.

"Noticed what’s happening to us." Her heart sank. "To everybody," he added. "Just look at yourself, at me."

"Martin. What are you talking about? Please tell me!" she said desperately. "Please!"

"Michelle. Don’t I seem, uh, small to you?"

"Martin, no! You’re just the right size. You’re PERFECT for me!" she said from the heart.

He smiled briefly. "Yeah, I know. I mean, thanks. You’re perfect too. But Michelle I’m supposed to be taller than you, right? I mean, I was taller than you until just yesterday, wasn’t I?"

"Of course you’re –" She stopped herself. Wait! There were standing eye to eye. How could she not have noticed?! That was impossible! Martin was six inches taller than she was! Her eyes almost popped.

"You didn’t notice, you —

"Martin, I swear! It just that — I know it sounds silly — but I’ve been so excited about us that I … I"

He squeezed her hand. "OK. OK. Don’t worry about it. Except. Michelle, you have to see, obviously, that something really bizarre is happening. I’m shrinking, I think. And you’re getting taller. And it’s happening faster and faster. I was taller than you this morning. I know I was. And now I’m not." Michelle looked down at her feet, just to check. She wasn’t wearing heels. Martin was wearing normal shoes. "And that’s not all," he continued. "I’m losing my strength. I’ve never been a real jock or anything, you know, but," he held up his arm, "this is ridiculous. Suddenly I can’t even flex and make a real muscle. I’ve got, like, a girl’s arm. Maybe a strong girl, I don’t know. But not even as strong as I was."

"Well, you never exercise! Maybe if you tried it — we could do it together! I’ve been running every morning, and working out later too and if we –"

"I don’t know. Maybe. But no, that’s not it. I never exercise. I never HAVE exercised except what we have to do in gym class. But it’s never made me WEAKER! I’m having trouble carrying around my books. Pretty soon I won’t be able to open jam jars!"

"Jam jars?"

"Whatever. And haven’t you noticed your own body? I can feel it, can’t you?"

"Well … yes, I guess. My, uh, shape’s been changing. I’ve gotten thinner in my tummy, I guess, and my butt, and firmer too. That’s really good. And I bought some new clothes yesterday — even though Sandy said I shouldn’t. I couldn’t resist this one pair of pants. But they didn’t fit right this morning. I’ll have to bring them back."

Martin smiled as Michelle wandered from the topic. "Michelle?"

"Oh!" She frowned. "Well, I just thought it was all the exercise.". Martin looked at her skeptically. His arm moved from her back to her upper arm and he squeezed it, tentatively probing the sizable mass of muscle. Not really liking the pressure against her arm she tightened it, forcing his fingers outward. His eyebrows rose. "Jeez, Michelle. There’s a LOT there. You’ve got really big biceps all of a sudden. Tell me, just how much are you working your arms?"

She looked confused and embarrassed. "Um, well, Sandy showed me how to use the weight machines Saturday morning and then we went back on Sunday. I guess for an hour. Not yesterday or today — because of the football team using it. Even though Sandy went in anyway. She said she practically kicked Frank Collins, you know, the quarterback, out of the weightroom, and that he can’t lift as much as he used to. Can you imagine —

"Uh huh. So you’ve worked your arms for like one to two hours? And now your biceps are even bigger than mine used to be? Meanwhile, Sandy’s getting huge muscles. She’s taller too. And the quarterback of the football team — he’s shrinking just like me. And so are my other friends, the guys I mean. Do you, like, see a pattern?" Michelle was staring into space. "Michelle?"

"Oh god!" She put her hand over her mouth.

"Michelle?"

"Our wishes!"

"Your … what?"

"Sandy, Theresa and I. WE did it."

"Did what? You’re not making any sense." Michelle was still staring vacantly. "Hello? Michelle? Since when did the three of you get the power to wish for things and make them come true?"

She held his shoulders tightly. "Oh no. It’s not like we can — see, it was my –" She looked down at her chest. "Oh I left it at home. It’s just that when we — oh don’t you see?" Martin looked even more confused. "Loving all the exercise. Growing. The way you’re changing. That’s the only way to explain it."

"You haven’t explained a thing. You’re talking nonsense. It has to be some kind of disease. A —

"No! Listen to me!" she said insistently. She shook him for emphasis and his whole body jerked back and forth, his head bouncing up and down.

"H-hey M-Michelle. Easy."

"Oooh. I’m so sorry Martin. Are you OK? I’m a lot stronger than I think, and you’re so much smaller and weaker. No offense. Really. It’s not your fault. It’s mine." She thought a moment. "Theresa’s actually. I think that was her wish."

"Theresa wished that you’d be bigger and stronger than I am? What does she have against ME? Why the hell would she do THAT?"

"No, NO! She wished … um … that girls were naturally bigger than guys. Sandy wished that working out made girls’ muscles grow more. And I just wished that we liked exercising more. I think."

"Could you … just ease up a little. Your hands on … my shoulders. Ahh, thanks. God, you’re strong, Michelle. Now, slowly please. What did you leave home? Aladdin’s lamp?"

"No, silly! It was a pendant from Mexico. I wore it Friday, ’cause I was feeling so bad, after Joe was bullying me. Again. We were just talking. Sandy was mad ’cause the football guys wouldn’t let her use the weights, and Bob Gerren was teasing Theresa — not meanly, I think he likes her but she really hates that, because — well anyway. So we were all feeling kind of mad at guys — not you, of course — but we were just talking — you know, like girls always talk. Anyway the pendant changed. It must have had some kind of mystical properties, ’cause we wished for a pizza too and it came. We thought it was someone playing a joke on us, but it must have happened because of the pendant. You see?"

Martin couldn’t help smiling. "Um yeah, sure. It’s ALL clear to me now." Michelle nodded earnestly. Martin was going to say something more sarcastic but decided not to. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Besides, she was so strong. He felt himself a little hesitant talking to her all of a sudden. Teasing her seemed a little … dangerous. "Well then, uh, Miss Super Amazon. I’m sure you find it really, uh, amusing now being taller than I am and, um, having all these great big muscles," he said cautiously, provoking a smile from Michelle and a quick flex, "but do you think you’d mind changing us all back before I, uh fade away to nothing? Um, because I think this whole thing is accelerating?"

That wasn’t what Michelle had expected him to say. She looked down at Martin, who was now clearly an inch shorter than she was. He was right! "Ohmygod! Look at you!" She was torn. She liked being bigger and stronger — not compared to Martin necessarily, but generally. "I, uh, don’t think that would happen, Martin. Theresa didn’t say she wanted guys to disappear, just to be, uh, smaller and, uh weaker." Her voice was starting to tail off. "And, uh, not as fit as we girls. I think that was all."

This was getting worse and worse! "So, I don’t get it. You really want me, I mean, all of us guys to be small, out-of-breath weaklings? Come on, Michelle. I mean, if you ARE right and you DID do all this, then, uh, can’t we just go back to your house and UNDO it? I know this is fun for you, but this is serious stuff. You’ve changed the whole human race; all of history is, like, irrelevant. You, uh, have no idea what you’re doing. You know?"

"But Martin!" she started protesting, then stopped. She hated admitting it, but he had a point. Not that she understood why boys SHOULD be stronger, but what right did she and her friends to change things so much? After all, the bible said God created us a certain way. Now they’d changed all of it. She sighed. "Oh I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. But Martin, I don’t think we CAN change things back. After Theresa’s last wish, the stone lost all its special color and it stopped doing things. I know, because I wished for, like, a google dollars after and nothing happened. I think her wish was so big that it sort of used the magic up."

Martin’s brow furrowed. "Well, can you show me? Maybe there’s some way to charge it up again?" He looked up at her. His forehead now only reached her nose and his trousers were trailing on the floor. "Damn! I’m shrinking faster! Come on, Michelle! I don’t like this!"

Michelle leaned down to kiss him and held him against her, trying to be gentle. "Poor Martin. Ok. Let’s go try."

Joe was miserable. His whole head hurt from Pamela’s slap. He was sure he’d have a bruise where he had hit the desk. And worse his pride was hurt. A GIRL had decked him with one blow. The humiliation! And what was this shrinking all about?! He took a few deep breaths and felt slightly better. Another half hour and the school halls would be clear so no one would see his puffy face and ask questions. Then he would make his way home and lick his wounds, figure out what was going on. Maybe there would be some explanation on the Internet. Something that made more sense than all the "muscle wasting disease" rumors.

Cindy and Calley stood at the locked door of the weight room. Cindy was dressed in her father’s football old jersey and tights. The jersey hung loosely over her formerly bulging stomach while her hulking shoulders and biceps filled it even without pads. Her massive thighs stretched the tights to near bursting. Cindy glared at the notice on the door, which said: "All sports practices are canceled and all athletic facilities are closed pending further announcements at the Special School Assembly 10:00 AM on Wednesday."

"I can’t BELIEVE it’s closed! Just when I want to use it!" Cindy complained.

"Maybe it’ll be open again tomorrow," Calley said hopefully. "In the meantime, we could go use your Dad’s again."

"This one’s better. It’s got bigger weights and I’m getting too big for some of stations on Dad’s." Cindy stamped her foot in displeasure. "It’s not fair!"

"Well, you can use some of them. ”Til they open up again. C’mon Cin. It won’t kill you to wait. You’re already so big."

"So what. I want that exercise feeling. You know what I’m talking about."

"Yeah."

"I mean, there’s nothing feels so good like using my muscles and working out. I don’t care how big they get, except, jeez, look at how this is riding up again. I can’t even tuck Daddy’s jersey in so it stays in.

"It wasn’t like that this morning."

"It was too BIG this morning. I must of grown like three inches at school today." She slapped her stomach. "And it’s all flat now and hard. It’s the weirdest thing, you know? Even you’re growing, Cal. Though not as fast as me."

"I’m 5’6"! I measured myself in the nurse’s office before I met you."

"Yeah, Big Cal!" Cindy laughed, pulling Calley to her massive chest. "You even got muscles!" she said, feeling her arms.

"Cindy! Cut it out!" Calley said, her voice muffled as she pushed helplessly against Cindy. "I can’t breathe!"

"Yeah, yeah, ok." Cindy let go and pulled her top down, making her large, unencumbered breasts bounce. "Daddy sure didn’t have these when he wore it, and my bras are all way too small for my chest now. You know, I can almost feel my top riding up while I stand here. How can I be growing so fast? I’m bigger than Daddy WAS, I think. And he’s not even six feet now and he’s got so fat he can’t even walk, not with his bum knee. He’s got to sit and listen to Mom yell at him and agree with everything or she’ll kill him. Glad I’m bigger than her. But THAT’s why I don’t want to go home. To listen to them fight."

"Yeah, well, ok. What do you want to do, then, Cin? Homework?"

Cindy made a face. "I want to — sshhh! Look!" She pulled Calley into a corner.

"What?" Calley asked.

"That’s Joe! Leaving through the back."

"Joe? But he looks so small! He’s my size!"

Cindy clamped her hand over Calley’s mouth. "I’m gonna go talk to him. See you later. Maybe." She watched him leave then set out after him, her long legs eating up the distance between them quietly on the empty, grassy field. The rain had stopped but the sky was still overcast and the field damp. "Joe!" she said when she had nearly reached him. "Joe! Hey, wait!"

"Yeah?" Joe turned around in annoyance and found himself staring just below an enormous pair of breasts. He looked upwards, amazed to see Cindy’s wild blonde hair flying so far above him against the darkening sky.

"I want to talk to you," she said stopping next to him and looking down at his head. She put her hands on her hips and bent down slightly. "You look so small."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Some other time. I’m on my way home." He turned to leave but she grabbed him, her large hand easily encircling his upper arm.

"You hurt me Friday, you know? You didn’t even say sorry."

Joe glared at her. "Sorry for what? For making you get off me?"

She pursed her lips. Why was he always so mean? Didn’t he know she liked him? She looked down at him. She had liked before that he was getting taller, but now he was looking so cute! She felt a pleasant rumble inside. She couldn’t help herself and squeezed him a couple of times where she was holding him, right on his biceps.

"Hey! Ouch!" he said, moving his hand to pry her fingers away. They were so big! And her grip was like iron.

"Huh! You’re so soft! Like a girl! Calley’s as big as you are, and even she has bigger, harder muscles than you do now."

Joe struggled to get away. "Come on, let me go!" he cried.

Cindy extended her arm as Joe pulled and then snapped it back a few times, playing with him like he was a fish on a line. He slipped on the wet grass but Cindy held him up. "Whoopsie!" she said, laughing. "Got you!" She pulled him closer so that his head was resting against her pillowy breast. "You’re so adorable! Like a little puppy!" She let go of him and shifted her beefy arm around his back, holding him closer. "Ooooh, Joe!" she exclaimed. "I LIKE hugging you!"

Joe pushed against her just as he had done last Friday, but this time the only part of her that was soft was the big breast that pressed against his face. Her abs were hard and thick and completely unaffected by his efforts, and the pressure of her arm around his back was enough to overpower both his arms and keep him locked against her. God, she was so strong, her arm was so thick. He could feel it on his back, feel the weighty muscle. She was like a giant, a powerful giant. How would he ever get away?!

Cindy looked around. It was getting darker and darker. There was no one around. She really wanted Joe closer. It could be her only chance! She pulled him away slightly and lifted up her jersey, then shoved his head underneath right up against her breast. Oh! That felt so good! She put her hand on the back of his head and pushed his head closer. Oooooh, she was getting tingly ALL OVER! Oh JOE!! She wanted him to touch her all over. Little Joe! He was even better being small!

Pushing against her was making him tired so he stopped and was just trying to figure out what to do next when suddenly he found his head under her shirt pressed right against her tit. It was so dark in there he could hardly see it, but he couldn’t believe how big it was, and how her nipple stuck out so hard and pushed against his cheek. Oh the SHAME of being mashed against Cindy Barrett’s tit (if anybody saw!), but he couldn’t help himself. After an hour of dreaming about Pamela Brown’s breast here was a live one, maybe even bigger than Pamela’s, pressed against his cheek, an erect nipple inches from his mouth. He wanted it so badly. One little turn of his head and … oh, it was so warm, so soft!! His lips closed around it. It was inside his mouth. Instinctively one hand crept upwards to her other breast. He felt all around it, his hand doing what his eyes could not do in the dark, and more. His other hand pressed against her skin. He could smell her. It wasn’t a clean smell or a sweet smell, but it was turning him on nevertheless. Without knowing it he started pressing against her rock-hard thigh.

Oh my! He knew just what to do. His mouth was on her breast! He was sucking it. Sucking her! His fingers feeling her! His hand holding her! How did he know just what she wanted?! She’d never felt like this. She wanted his whole body against her. What was he doing with her leg. Was that hard little thing his thingee?! Oh that was so cute! He was rubbing it against her. Against her leg! Just like a little puppy dog!

Oh god! He was going to cum! His first time cumming with a girl and it was with Cindy Barrett. His first real tit too. He couldn’t believe it. Oh but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. Her body was such a strange combination of hard and soft, so big, so all-encompassing, making him feel so small, so vulnerable, so helpless and yet so safe. He wanted to press further into her, be part of her, push right through her. Of course he did! But she was so hard, so strong. He could never do it. Unless she’d let him. Would she? Not now, but she wanted him. She had a crush on him. She held him so tight, so close. Could he score with her? He pressed against her so hard but it was nothing to her. She was so big, so powerful! And he felt as though she was still growing, becoming ever bigger, ever stronger as he became still smaller and weaker. Now he was lifting his head to reach her nipple! He leaned his cheek against her breast, curved his arm around her waist. Was he really doing this? With HER? Oh god! He was cumming now!

Oh he stopped! Why? Oh, he must have had his little orgasm. And his mouth had dropped off her breast. But why did he HAVE to stop sucking her? Cindy opened her eyes and looked down at him, half hidden inside her jersey. He looked so tiny. Why, he looked even smaller than before! She could just eat him up. Still, the way he was snuggling against her was nice. This was SO much better than Friday! She let him rest there for a few minutes. Oh it was really nice. She still wanted him against her. She put both arms around him. So he couldn’t go anywhere. He was so small. She could pick him up and hold him tighter. Closer. She lifted her shirt and picked him up to her lips. That felt nice. She held him more tightly, wanting to feel him closer. Oh, he was feeling her arms. His little hands felt so sweet against her muscles. It was great having big muscles, being so strong. She could do anything she wanted. This was nice … but it would be even better to lie down, to feel his little body on top of hers and then she could move him around just as she wanted to all the places that felt good. It was damp but she didn’t care. She leaned backwards slowly, and settled onto the grass still holding him. The cool ground made her shiver for a moment, but she felt so warm inside that it didn’t matter.

What was happening now? She was picking him up like he weighed nothing and now she was covering his face with kisses. Could anyone see? It was probably too dark. God she was strong. She was squeezing him so tightly he could hardly breathe. He tried to loosen her arms a little, but it was impossible. What muscles she had! He couldn’t even get his hands around them and she wasn’t even flexing them. THAT was scary. Now she was lying down and pulling him on top of her, pushing his lips onto her neck, then her cheek, forcing his leg between hers. What was he? A toy doll? A dildo? But it was useless to try to get up. Now she was pulling his hand onto her tit again, moving it in circles, her other hand on his leg, pulling it up and down against her crotch. She was so rough, so strong. It was hurting. She was just using him. But he couldn’t stop her.

Oh god! Oh god! OH GOD!! She wanted to squeeze him with all her strength but she knew she shouldn’t. After all, he was so small!

Owwww! She was going to break him! Listen to her breathing, like she’s having a seizure! Is this really how girls come? Oh why does it have to hurt?!! Owwww! Owwww! Oh, she’s relaxing. She must be done. Thank god! She’s still breathing hard. The way her breathing lifts my body up and down — I must weigh nothing to her. I feel so small.

"Joe?" she said as she was catching her breath. "Joe?" She stroked his head but he didn’t respond. She pulled him upwards and turned his head toward her so she could look at him and so he would look at her. "Joe?"

"Yeah?" What the hell did she want now?

"I liked that. It felt good."

"Uh huh." Cindy Barrett. He was lying on top of Cindy Barrett. If anyone saw him …. And now he bet she was going to want to be his girlfriend. No way! But he was going to have to be careful. She was so strong. Scary strong.

"We can do it again some time. Or other things. You know." She stroked his neck and his back. He was so small. Her hand covered most of his upper back. She slipped her hand down his pants. They were loose. HE was getting smaller, like she was growing! Weird. Feeling curious, she touched his balls and his thing. It moved, kinda growing, when she touched it, but EEWWW, he was all sticky. That must be his "boy stuff." She pulled out her hand and wiped it on his pants.

She touched him. Cindy Barrett just reached down and touched him. Like she had a right to. Except she didn’t like feeling his cum. That was kind of embarrassing. Being all wet and sticky. But it felt good when she did it. He sort of wanted her to touch him more. But it was too embarrassing to ask.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? "Did you like it? With me?" she asked.

"Uh yeah. What do you think? You know." Like he was really going to admit it to Cindy Barrett?

"Yeah. I guess." She liked fooling around with him. She wanted to do it again. Other times. A lot. Why didn’t he say he wanted to too? He was being so quiet. What if he didn’t want to? What if he made fun of her again, like before? He better not. She wouldn’t let him act like that. He wouldn’t dare! Not anymore. She put her hand on his backside. His soft, cute little backside. "You got so small. I’m so much bigger than you now. Bigger and stronger too."

That was obvious. She was so dumb. "So?" She was pushing him against her again. Jeez, her hand was big.

"I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you know you can’t push me away like before." She paused a moment. "But you don’t want to do that anymore, do you?"

Of course he did. He hated the whole idea of being with Cindy Barrett and, even more, of anybody at school knowing it. But … what if he could get her to go all the way?

Why didn’t he answer? He was so cute but he seemed really thick. Still, at least some little part of him wanted her and that was enough … for now. He wouldn’t ignore her anymore. He wanted something from her, and that gave her a little power over him. The should be enough. Like with her father. And Cal. Cindy knew most people didn’t like her, but the ones who did even a little would listen to her if she insisted loudly and strongly enough, which she always did. She would have to be the one in charge. He would soon understand that. But she’d have to show him just in case he didn’t really know. Just like she had to with Cal. Funny how being bigger and stronger made some people listen once they got close enough. Cal always knew how much stronger Cindy was, ever since when they’d met and Cindy had picked her up and squeezed her a little. But Joe was a boy. She’d have to show him so clearly there could be no doubt. Then he’d be scared of her and it would be easy to keep him.

She looked at him and smiled and then took his hand. "Look, Joe. Look at our arms next to each other. Yours is so thin."

"It’s not thin!" he protested quickly.

That got a reaction! "Oh yes it is. Compared to mine. I have really big muscles now. Don’t worry. I think it’s really cute."

Cute! What does she mean by that?! And why the hell should I worry about what she thinks!

"It just looks so little next to mine. See how big my muscle is? Feel it." She put his hand on top of her biceps. "And feel how big and hard it gets when I flex it."

OH GOD! That MUSCLE!! It’s huge! And it’s as hard as a bone!

She loved the feel of his fingers trying to press in her muscle. Trying and failing. That was cute too! Heh-heh. He wasn’t saying anything. Fine then! In that case she’d have to make him FEEL just how big she was. Keeping her hand on his backside she rolled them over so she was on top. Now HE was the one on the wet grass! She had the power. She could do anything she wanted.

What’s she DOING! She weighs a ton! She’s crushing me! Doesn’t she know that? How stupid IS she? Oh god, now she’s doing pushups one handed? She’s fucking holding me against her with one arm and doing pushups with the other? What is she, fucking Superman? If her hand slips she’s going to fucking break me in two.

"Isn’t this fun, Joe? I just LOVE to exercise now, ’cause it feels so good." She pushed herself up high enough to switch arms. "Whee! Isn’t this great? You’re helping make my muscles grow and get even stronger."

I AM? Fuck!!

But still, Joe clung to her, partly in fear of her strength, partly in awe of her strength, and mostly in a hunger for her pure physicality. He was getting hard again already …

… which Cindy could feel as she held Joe close against her. I’ve GOT you! She pulled him back on top of her and pumped her biceps for him a few more times. She didn’t really care how big they were, but it was clear now that they’d come in handy. Working out made her feel good. And so did Joe. It was all coming together for her! "I guess I’ll have to be really careful around you, Joe, ’cause I’m so much stronger. I could hurt you really easily. Even if I didn’t want to. You know?"

"Wh-what do you mean by that?"

"Just … you don’t want me mad at you. You know?" She had a feeling that was enough for now and decided she wanted his hand on her breast. Now. She put it there. "I like it when you touch me there Joe. And move like this," she added, moving his hand around to show him. She liked too the way his hand fit inside hers. So small and helpless, and yet he was still Joe. Yes, holding hands with Joe around high school would be lots of fun.

[continued]