Plain Jane: Chapter 2

Plain Jane: Chapter 2.

Killing Jane Slowly.

By HorseRadish

If you are under 18, then don�t read.�

�� Jane started her long drive home.� She drove barefoot.� The transformation had corrected her misaligned joints, including her deviated foot arch.� Her feet fit oddly in her shoes, due to the worn indentions in the padding.� She was constantly noticing new and exciting things about her perfect body.� Her left hand didn�t pop when she wrapped it around the steering wheel.�� Her body no long constantly produced a slightly sour smell.� The caterpillar eyebrows were replaced with fine arches.� Every move and gesture was sculpted by toned muscle sheathed in flawless skin.�

�� As she stepped back in to her apartment, she noticed the sour smell that permeated the place.� The smell of plain Jane.� She threw open a window and fell back on her bed.� Sleep overtook her.�� She dreamed.

�� 53!� 53 please!�� A harried worker called out.� Jane was sitting in a process area, much like the DMV.� She was holding the 53 ticket.�

�I�m next. � yelled Jane.�

�Please have a seat in the 3^rd booth down.�� Thank you.� Responded the harried worker.

Jane walked down and took a seat.� A chubby man sat facing her, typing in to a terminal.�

�Night Owl customer service.� Can I have your name?� the cheerful man asked.

�Plain Jane.� Said Jane.

�Ok, let me see.� He typed and clicked as he pulled her entry up.

�Oh wow!� You got the Royal deluxe treatment!� the man said excitedly.

�What�s that?�

�It�s highly unusual.� The full Grande majiks package!��

�Why?� Jane asked, dreading the answer.�

�It says in the work notes, you committed suicide today.�

Jane was silent.� She raised her hand to her mouth as if to stifle the shock that left her cold.

�Is there anything else I can do for you?�

Jane waved him off.

�Thank you and have a good day.�

Jane woke to the alarm clock.

�� She felt shaken and excited.� The emotional plaque that had built up around her heart had cracked, giving her a tiny amount of freedom from the drudge of Plain Jane.� She looked in her closet and started pulling out dresses.� They were all in dark colors and hung past her ankle.�� She tried three dresses on before finding one that wasn�t too snug in the hips.� She had to go bra-less, she never needed one before.� She carefully brought her breasts up a notch, just enough to push the material away from her shoulders.� She put on a vest to cover her nipples.� She took a look in the mirror.� She had worn these clothes a few dozen times, but now they hung in a much more provocative way.� She began to pin her hair back.� Her cheekbones were placed beautifully on her face, evoking an image of ageless woman, fertile and mature.� Her mind told her that she was hotter than anyone she�s ever known, but �Plain Jane� still encased her heart.

�� Marge was logging new books in to the system.� She looked up and saw a marvel of beauty.� Marge had seen pretty girls before, but this one topped the charts.

�Hello Miss, can I help you find a book?�

�Marge, Its ME!� Jane!�

�J-Jane?� That�s not possible!� stammered Marge

�Its really me!� I have my drivers license and everything.� Jane excitedly reached in to her purse.� She looked at her license and noted that the photo was still of �Plain Jane.�

�Well, how about this? �� Jane grabbed a large stack of returned books, quickly returning them to their proper place within 5 minutes.

�Jane!� That is you!� What happened?�

�I went and saw the Magic Night Owl!�

�The Magic Night Owl?� Is that some kind of overnight plastic surgery place?�

�Not quite.� It�s a Owl that does magic.�

�I�m a librarian, I don�t believe in magic!� snorted Marge.

�What about the bum pinching ghost that lives the social sciences aisle.� �

�I guess you have a point, dear.�� Marge smiled.

�Jane, you have the looks to land yourself a very rich husband, so I�m going to do you a favor.�

�What�s that?�

�I�m going let you go.� �

Jane felt the vise around her heart tighten.� Plain Jane surfaced and began to cry.�

�Why?�

�Now now, You�re going to be ok now.� I was worried but now I see that you�re going to be great from this point on.�

�You mean that good looks can bring you happiness?� Jane asked incredulously.

�Good looks, no. � Marge lifted Janes chin with her hand.� �Flawless looks, oh definitely.�

Marge took a look at Jane.

�Why didn�t you ask for bigger boobs?�

Jane replied by gently increasing the volume of her breasts.�� The top became tight enough to gap the buttons.�

Marge gasped and clapped her hands in delight.� Jane shyly smiled at Marge.

�Sugar, with those, you should have a hundred men begging at you door.�

A button busted loose as the swelling continued.� Marge could see the soft cleavage pinching out of the widening hole in the blouse.� Marge was shocked at the sheer size Janes little boobies were growing to.

��A thousand men�� whispered Marge.

�� Jane packed her small items and quietly left the library.�� She gave Marge a hug and went out in to the world of unemployment.� She had enough saved that she could get by for a couple months, but what could she do now.� With the economy, even Mcjobs were hard to find.�� She paused in front of a display window and caught her face in repose.� She saw her new features and remembered that she could easily be model.�� She felt a twinge of delight.� It was wonderful and terrible at the same time.� The glory of the feeling was casting a scathing contrast against years of pain and loneliness.�� She fell to her knees and sobbed loudly.�

�� She drove out to the plunger tree.� It was midnight.� She had bought all of Larry�s beef jerky and had it in her trunk.� She carefully placed the jerky next to the tree.�

She looked up at the tree.

�Thank you for saving my life.�

�Your very welcome!� hollered the Owl.

�I thought that you had to be summoned?�

�Folks like a mystery with their magic.� What kind of fun would it be if you received an email asking you to meet a Night Owl at a Frishes for a cup of coffee?�

�Point taken.� Anyway, I bought all the jerky that Larry had.��

�You did?� That�s great! � The Owl fluttered around excitedly.�

�How did you�?� asked the Owl.

�I told Larry that I was lactose intolerant.� While he ran off to get his dictionary, I drove off.�

�That wasn�t very nice.� � chuckled the Owl.� �Anyway, Its good you came back.�

�Why, Do you have a job offer?� Jane raised her hands in frustration.

�No.� I forgot to mention the rules of majik.� I have granted you a boon and now I must bind you with a rule.� It�s all boilerplate fairy magic.� Title 12a of the FFC, Federal Fairy Commission, states when party (A), That�s you Jane, receives a non-natural boon from a certified proctor of non-natural treatments, the fore-mentioned proctor must select and assign restriction and/or limitations to party (A) as per approved list of article 12b�.�

Jane listened and tried to understand.� Her years as a librarian proved only moderately useful.� The Night Owl carried on and rattled the rest of 12a between hearty breaths.

�That�s impressive!� How did you learn so much about FFC regulations?�

�Night School.�

�� The Owl gestured upward with his wings.� A huge leather bound book appeared before him.� Jane stared, still not quite used to the power of the Night Owl.

�Ah the Article 12b.� Now to find a FFC approved pain in the ass for you, my dear.� The owl chuckled again.� Jane leaned over the Owl and read with him.�

�Jane, could you give a poor owl a nice soft headrest?�

Jane understood.� She sat Indian style and proceeded to unbutton her blouse.� She closed her eyes and imagined them extending out like helium balloons.� She felt her breasts fill her hands, exceeding a palmful within seconds.�� She played with her nipples as solid globes of flesh pushed her hands apart.� Spherical like a basketball, but soft like a warm loaf of bread.� The owl felt his downy feathers flatten in to the hyper-swollen mammaries of Jane.� The Owl sighed and began to read, as Jane looked onward.

To be continued�