New story Magic Unmentionables

[Memorex75]

Hey all this is my new short story Magic Unmentionables: The Wardrobe Malfunction. It was actually a failed attempt at a full length story but it was too lengthy and boring. So I re-wrote it based around one of the major climaxes and I think it stands on it's own. For those of you into Weight gain and Inflation Enjoy.

[Memorex75]

Magic Unmentionables
The Wardrobe Malfunction

May walked into the small file room at Hillshire and Birk, the law firm she had been working at for the past three weeks. May had what just might be a perfect stereotype body for a legal assistant. Her favourite pants suit fit her like a glove, professional yet so well tailored it made business casual look sexy. The dark blue pant legs tapered up to her perfect hips and tight ass. Narrowed to her model slim waist before flaring out again to a modest yet promising C cup chest. Her brunet curls rested on her head in an artful twist that made you fantasize about what she would look like if she let her hair down and slowly unbuttoned her cream colour blouse.

May wished she had not been hired here to be the eye candy but she knew she was. She had applied here once before under different circumstances and been denied. Dammit she was smart and good at her job but she had made some minor little changes since the last time she’d applied here under her real name, Monica. The little change was simple, the result and the means to achieve those changes were not simple. Three weeks ago, after being turned down here at the law firm Monica had gone and indulged in her best guilty pleasure, a fortune telling.

Monica always knew Madam Zelda took advantage of the chronically low self esteemed for a living, and that therefore, that included herself because Monica was every ounce a three hundred and fifty pound woman. That day had been different though. Rather than read her some phoney fortune Madam Zelda sat there staring and then asked her quietly. “If you could have everything you ever wanted at the cost of your self respect would you do it?” Self respect? Monica thought. What was that? She answered. “Thought you were a fortune teller not a magician Madam Z?” “Oh I dabble dear.” Madam Zelda had answered.

May began looking through the draws in the cabinets leaving several she needed to go back to open for convince. Mr. Hillshire strolled into the file room and May cursed herself for being careless enough to leave the outer door open. May’s new boss Mr. Jim Hillshire was unfortunately a bit of a perv. Of course May had never allowed him his touchy, feely ways. She’d nearly quit her second day before he apologized and begged her to stay, but no matter how many times she told him off it was as if May’s new body brought out the worst in the man.

“May would you have the Lake Shore file by chance? Got to, go over it.” He had paused for an appreciative leer. “Yes it’s right here.” May said not thinking and turned to reach into the open upper cabinet behind her. By now the feel of a hand on her new perfect ass should be natural. Not just at work but in open public May had been felt up several times in the last three weeks. All part of the downside of my little trade, she’d told herself. Other women deal with this kind of thing, she told herself, she’d just never had to before now. May jumped as she was fondled. “Mr. Hillshire!” she squeaked. She turned so fast she banged her shoulder into the edge of the cabinet hard. “Ou sorry, sorry was just trying to look over your shoulder May.” He said. She shoved the file at him forcing him back. “I really am sorry, I should be getting back to work.” “Oh May, looks like you snagged yourself on that drawer, better take a look at that.” He said as he turned to leave.

May stared down in horror at her shoulder. Through a small tear in the sleeve of her suit jacket May could see all the way down to the tiny scrape she now had on her arm. It was not her injury that worried her but the layers of fabric she peered though that made her blood run cold. Past the dark blue suit jacket, past the creamy silk blouse she wore underneath she examined a third and final thin layer of fabric. The magical body stocking she’d got from Madam Zelda that was keeping the super model figure of May from changing back to the three hundred and fifty pound truth that was Monica’s real body.

When Madam Zelda gave her the pantyhose and swore up and down that these thin nylons would make her slim and sexy Monica was sure the poor old lady had finally gone senile but she had promised she would at least try them on once when she got home.

The incredible feel of the nylons sliding over her skin and not feeling one bit tight. The shock of watching her body squash and compact beneath the flimsy fabric. Waking up every morning and getting dressed had become the most gratifying thing Monica had ever done in her life. When fully on the support hoses covered almost her entire body. As she pulled her hands and feet through the sleeves they came out skinny. When she snugged the collar around her neck the fat miraculously drained away from her face. Her hair looked better, her skin was clearer. These stockings truly were magical.

There were things to get used to of course. Monica’s balance was a nightmare for her first day seeing as her centre of gravity had changed. Going to the bathroom had been an ego check too. Since the stocking was one solid piece any time Monica had to go she had to remove her clothes pull down the stocking to knee level and go. She had never been so grateful for handicap bathroom stalls before, the contrast of her slim, beautiful legs attached to her thunderous thighs had just been bizarre.

The positive things to get used to had been a culture shock too. The stores Monica normally shopped in simply didn’t have clothes small enough for her, go figure. Monica had never owned a car before and on her way home from the store a guy hit on her on the bus. She had even got his number despite the fact she barely knew how to respond to being flirted with. Later on that same bus ride however Monica experienced another less pleasant part of being so attractive. As the crowd on the bus got tighter Monica nearly jumped out of her skin as a guy pinched her ass on the way off the bus, Ass hole.

Based on this unpleasantness Monica decided to put her new figure to an even higher test. Monica could not afford to finance a car with her credit. Car dealers had ways of getting around things like if they wanted to though. Long story short Monica drove off the lot in a used but very nice compact mini costing her nothing but an hour, a tight pair of jeans, and a little innuendo. Madam Zelda had told the truth, she could get anything she wanted looking like this.

Monica remembered back to all the warnings Madam Z had given her. “Never wash them in a machine or with modern soaps, warm water and air drying only.” “Don’t try to alter them in any way and be carful never to get a rip in them.” Would this tinny tear stop the magic? She wondered panicky. She looked at the little scrape, if it could even be called that, and got her answer.

The skin poking through the hole seemed to look puffy, like the way a bee sting swells, the small area of flesh directly under the hole rose. She removed her coat to get a better look. “No, please no.” she prayed but as she stared the skin around her cut continued to swell before her eyes. Riiippp. The barely audible sound of fabric tearing could be heard and the dime sized hole in the upper arm of the stocking slowly grew to a vertical rip about an inch long.

Monica’s whole upper arm was swelling she then realized. It was very hard to tell because it was fairly slow but her tight fitting silk blouse was now noticeably tighter on her arm. Oh Shit. The magic that was keeping Monica skinny was failing. Monica had never thought of what she would do if she ever found herself changing back. She had no extra, bigger clothes stashed some where and no one here had ever even known the real Monica so changing back at the office was out of the question. However with no extra clothes and the speed her arm was getting bigger Monica was going to have a serious wardrobe problem very soon. She cursed herself for being so stupid as to not even plan this far ahead.

Monica slung her suit coat over her shoulder to cover her inflating arm. I have to give an excuse to Hillshire and get the hell out of here before I become the Michelin woman. She thought and rushed to her bosses office. “Um, Jim I think I should go to the clinic. That scratch back there was pretty deep and I want to get it looked at.” She said putting on her ditzyest voice. She held her arm as if there was a wad of tissues under her jacket, it was just her arm. “It was really that bad?” He asked surprised. “Well if you think you need to. Want me to look at it?” The letch asked with a stupid grin. “No that’s ok, Thank’s Jim, See you.” Monica flew from the office like it was on fire.

As Monica got on the empty elevator she could not only hear but feel the scritch, scritch, scritch of the skin tight stocking tearing along her arm. Monica pulled away her coat. Her arm was now treating to burst the sleeve of her blouse despite her hand only starting to get puffy. Regretting it all the way she stuck her finger in the hole of the silk and tore. The stocking had spilt down her arm right to the wrist, the only thing holding it together was the stretchy cuff. As if to add insult to injury the strained elastic picked that moment to snap with an audible pop. Monica’s arm was now completely changed back to the shoulder, her hand had quickly filled out as soon as her arm was uncovered. Fingers plumping up from the knuckles out like they were being filled with air. Monica began feeling a tingling across her shoulder blades and her chest, her heart began to race.

The elevator binged at the parking garage level and Monica threw her coat back over her arm to head to her car. The time factor for changing back took on a whole new meaning as Monica reached her modest little compacted. A vison of firefighters using the jaws of life to free an obese woman from a car she couldn’t possibly have gotten into flashed through her mind. Just calm down and hurry. Monica knew she’d twisted the wrong way before she heard the sound but by then she was already lowering herself into the drivers seat. Ssshhhhttttt, pop, click. Monica’s chest surged forward the rip had stretched half way across her chest and the give had allowed her modest C cups to swell to ripe double Ds. Monica’s bra, which she had to wear over the stocking, was the only thing holding her together and not swelling to her full, natural size. Two buttons had popped on her blouse to make room and now she was sporting fantastic cleavage as she nearly spilled out of the top of her bra.

Monica knew two things. One she would not be able to get out of this car without finishing that rip and two she would not pass even a casual glance once her real chest was attached to this slim frame. Further more Monica had just moved to this new apartment upon getting her new figure. No one there knew Monica, they all knew May.

They say driving stressed deceases gas mileage. It was a wonder Monica had not run out of gas with the frantic stop start progress she was making on her way through the afternoon traffic. Monica’s stress was in direct proportion to how much her bra straps were digging into her swelling shoulders. She payed little attention the sensation of fat slowly running across her back and down her other arm as she wove through traffic. Monica was sure that any second now she would hear a scritch and her own personal air bags would deploy.

Monica knew on some level she was not going to make this next yellow light but she had planed on the car ahead of her going through it. In her state when the car ahead of her began to make a hard stop Monica’s reaction was a second slow and she was forced to slam on the brakes. Monica groaned as she practically stood on the brake peddle and came to a stop literally two inches shy of rear ending the other car. She leaned back and let out a deep sigh of relief. RRRRIIIIIIPPPPP. Monica’s chest exploded out of her top. The deep breath had been the last strain her tinny C cup bra could take. For a good second Monica could only stare down at herself. Though she could not see it from where she was sitting the rip had spread straight down her chest to the top of her stomach. She could have given Pam Anderson a run for her money, Monica’s breast were F cups and all fat but on her otherwise slim body she was now freakishly stacked.

Monica honestly had a mental disconnect. Vaguely she though. Gee I should cover up. But the sheer strangeness of the situation she was in had stunned her. HHHHOOONNNKKK Monica jumped, jiggling like a Jello commercial. She frantically looked around sure some other driver was now staring slack jawed at her incredible, and very bare, proportions. The light had turned green Monica realized. The one sure way to get attention was to keep sitting here like an idiot. Monica hurriedly pulled her suit jacket off her arm and over top her chest and drove on.

For about the hundredth time today Monica thanked god, this time for the fact there was no security guard posted at the parking garage entrance to her new apartment. Pulling to a stop in her spot Monica finally had a moment of relative privacy to inspect herself. She pulled away the coat. Monica’s tits, for that’s the only thing they could be called on May’s skinny body, were huge. When her normal size Monica’s bust line was average for a heavy set woman and not very appealing sexually. Now Monica’s whole top half was a stark contrast to her perfect slim bottom and her tits were big, round and impossible without the aid of surgical intervention. Perhaps a bit of lingering magic was turning the otherwise saggy fat into round, perky watermelons. Looking in the mirror Monica’s facial fat had also begun to returned so it was a good bet that no one here would even recognize her if they could look past the fact she was a walking blow up doll.

Monica opened her door and knew she was screwed. Her stomach was already straining the bit of give the large chest rip had made. If Monica twisted too far she would stretch the tear and she didn’t know how much farther she had to go before the spell broke altogether. She prayed she could make it to her door before that happened. Reigned to the fact she may very soon be a fat naked stranger, streaking through her own apartment Monica wasted no more time. She stood up. SSSSHHHUUUURRRRPPPP. Monica hunched as the weight of her gut returning hit her. The rip had crossed her navel and now Monica’s stomach had returned in force, her whole mid section swelled like a balloon blowing away the last of her buttons so forcefully the tail of the shirt had ripped. Further more Monica’s hips were already swelling too. Her once tight ass was now tight in a different sense barely held in check by the skirt and pants of the remaining suit.

Monica looked around, no one. She took the jacket and loosely tied the arms around her neck like a bib barely making herself decent. Monica began to walk to the elevator but after only a few steeps she knew something had really broken in the magic that changed her. Monica could feel her ass swelling, quickly. Every step it jiggled a little more, every step she had to hold on tighter to the top of her straining pants. Monica knew this was it. There was no taking these pants off even if she could bend far enough to do it. Her thighs and even her calves felt like they were in a vise as her legs continued to plump like hotdogs on a grill.

Some how Monica made it to the elevator and in the thirty seconds or so it took the elevator to get there she must have pushed the button about two hundred times. The doors creaked open with glacial speed and Monica staggered into the car. She pressed the button for floor five and then she heard. “Wait, please hold the elevator.” Monica mashed the doors close button so hard and fast it was a wonder she did not break the plastic button. “Hey wait.” The person in the garage called. From this angle they could not see her from behind the wall, if the doors closed she was free and clear. “Bitch.” One last call rang out before the doors closed with what sounded like the slamming of a steel vault door.

Monica leaned back against the wall SSSSSSHHHHHRRRRRIIIIIIPPPPP. Monica’s body exploded. “SHHHHIT!” She half moaned half shrieked as she burst forth.

The last bit of her magic had given way, probably after another sigh of relief. Monica didn’t know if the stocking failed all at once or if enough of it was ruined for the spell to break but all at once but Monica’s body changed back with violent force. In one painful wave fat surged into Monica’s ass, hips, and legs and every seam on her beautiful pants suit burst so perfectly nothing but tattered rags remained. The bit of Monica’s upper body that had not fully changed back had the same violent surge and the last bit of silk blouse on her arm and waist was also shredded.

Monica’s body had one hundred percent changed back to normal. Monica stared down at her fat feet, she’d been told they were normal but she swore she had fat even on her feet. Upward, no ankle was discernable before the calf. Her thighs were where it started to go really bad. Two slabs of meat that could have taken up an entire butcher shop window. They were so rippled with cellulite you wouldn’t even be able to tell when they stopped jiggling. They came together to form her enormous ass, which she was glad was too wide for her to turn and see in a mirror anymore. Monica’s stomach was a big round gut. Monica had envied other women simply for being able to discern there top half from there bottom but Monica’s gut continued right down into her hips forming the dreaded front butt when she wore anything less forgiving than sweat pants. Monica’s huge but now shapeless breasts hung slightly in there unsupported state. Monica’s thick neck formed a second, verging on third chin as she raised meaty arms to cover her face a moment to press up against the wall to steady herself.

After the shock of growth from her chest and the nerve wracking walk from the car Monica was not been stunned this time by her growth but rather soul crushing depression ceased her as she desperately tried to hold together anything hanging onto her that would still constitute clothing. She stared down at the ruins of her clothes. Her lacey black thong lay on top of the pile, tangled in the stocking. The thong had been entirely unnecessary since the stocking had to be on her skin to change. However she had always dreamed of being skinny enough to wear one of the admittedly uncomfortable but sexy undergarments and so she had stubbornly worn it overtop, regardless of the fact it only made the stocking ride up even more than it naturally did. Now like her vain dreams, the thong lay there popped like a bubble.

The suit jacket had fallen off from the force of her growth. Sighing Monica picked it up and tried to tie it around her waist but to no avail. Who was she kidding? Now the truth of madam Zelda’s words struck her. She really had lost the last bit of her self respect. In three weeks she had not made a new life for herself she’d made an alias and now that falsehood had burst as surly as her seams. BING. The elevator sounded as it stopped on her floor. Thankfully no one waited on the other side of the doors and Monica hurriedly scooped up the remains of her outfit into her purse and scurried down the apartment hall as fast and quiet as a three hundred and fifty pound near naked woman could.

Never again, never again will I mess with magic if I can just get out of this. Monica thought. Two doors away from her apartment Monica froze. Light streamed into the hall from the peepholes in all the apartment doors. Had it been later in the day or earlier she would not have seen the shadow pass in front of her next door neighbours hole.

Mrs. Marieweather had to be the nicest, sweetest little old lady in the world. She was also the noseyest woman in the world who had ears like a hawk. Every time anyone walked the halls the little old lady would peer out her peephole. Every time May had walked by she would open her door and greet her because apparently May resembled her daughter. If a fat, naked stranger passed by that door Mrs. Marieweather would freak out and Monica wouldn’t be able to get to her door before the little old woman caught her. Since no one knew Monica here if the cops came because a strange naked woman went into the apartment of a skinny legal assistant she would ether spend time in jail for breaking and entering or time in the physic ward for telling people she had magic underwear that made her skinny.

Tossing aside the last bit of dignity she had she quietly dropped to her knees and began to crawl across the carpet under the peephole. In all the indignities she had suffered in the last hour or so this was just another grain of sand on the beach. For a moment she wondered what she would say if Mrs. Marieweather opened her door to a large naked woman crawling across her door mat. The thought was so ridiculous Monica had to swallow a laugh, she was probably just going nuts. On the other side Monica got up and rushed to her door. Mrs. Marieweather would hear her keys so she had to be quick. As Monica began opening her door she heard her neighbours door begin to open. Monica’s heart must have stopped as she staggered through her own door and slammed it behind her.

Monica stood with her back against the door, the cold wood on her bare ass but she was safe. Knock, Knock. Monica jumped again. “May dear? Is that you?” God it was Mrs. Marieweather. “Yes Mrs. Marieweather.” She answered, her voice was at least still skinny little May’s. “Your home so early dear?” “Well I had a little wardrobe malfunction at work and my boss let me go home a little early.” Monica said, it was kinda true. “Oh dear, not that nice blue suit you have? I remember my Cindy used to wear a similar suit but she was a real estate agent, and that was years ago.” the little old lady rambled. “Yes, well it was just a little tear, I’m sure it can be fixed.” “Oh that’s good dear. You have a nice afternoon then.” Mrs. Marieweather said and Monica could hear her shuffle back down the hall.

Monica slumped down to the floor exhausted. She pulled it off. Monica opened her bag and looked at the tattered remains of not only her favourite suit but the magical stocking that she had built this pathetic new life on. Well no one saw her change and no one here saw her true body. All she had to worry about now was what she would do from here on out. Tomorrow she had to work and shy of losing two hundred pounds by then that might be a problem.... she had nothing to wear in this apartment ether.

[spmonkey2]

Nice work!

[Memorex75]

Thank you

[bazza170]

I'm liking it, great work!

[Abazaba]

Great work, really well done. Normally not a fan of this sort of expansion but with the suit it works great. Keep it up. I look forward to your next story.

[Memorex75]

thank you will be posting it very soon actually editing it now.
it will be about slime girls. a little unconventional but still very good.