(c) 2000, Postcards From the Edge of a Nervous Breakdown.
Chapter 0
"Don't give me that! Come on. 'Happy New Year' by Abba is probably the most depressing song in the world. Do me a favour." Sarah threw her hands up in air and shook her head.
"It's melancholic. There's a difference." Hazel leaned forwards.
"Oh yeah, right. Depression isn't melancholy. Melancholy is happiness personified ain't it. Hazel do me another favour and get a life."
"Now now, ladies." Carl pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his finger slipped and poked him in the forehead.
"Even your boyfriend's a nerd." Laughed Sarah. "You're both pretty well matched ain'tcha. Boring bastards with no sense of fun."
"We do have fun." Hazel barked. "It's just that it's different to the run of the mill convential fun that you have."
Sarah's face cracked into a sneer of derision. "Oh right, you're unconventional now are ya, watching Open University programmes on telly, going to the Star Trek convention, and watching the Waltons, yeah that's the most fun you can have with your clothes on innit."
Hazel's and Carl's face grew florid.
"You are so completely un-fun it's amazing. Lighten up. But maybe it's too late for you to change, Haze. You've spent twenty-two years being you and you've got it off pat. You know? Boring is as boring does."
"But... but..." Hazel tried to say something, to say anything but she couldn't.
Chapter 20
"It was obvious from the start," she thought. "Directly I went back it would start. But it's a loop. I've created a perfect loop and there's nothing I can do."
The weight on her chest grew steadily heavier, the rate increasing with each passing second. She had given up trying to reach the control panel minutes ago, even though it was only a matter of ten inches from her fingertips, it was too far away it might as well be ten miles.
"Well, I've got what I wanted I suppose. But I didn't think that it would be like this. I thought it would just be once, not like this." She sighed. "It's the mad scientist final words cliche, really." She chuckled to herself. "'I meddled in things people should leave alone.'"
As she laughed, and the growth continued, the laugh altered to a different emotion.
Chapter minus 15
The first time Hazel had ever seen a naked woman, (she didn't count her mother, because her mother wasn't a real woman, she was a mother, and any way they'd only been glimpses, in the bathroom stepping out of the bath, or in the bedroom pulling up her knickers), the first time she'd ever seen a naked woman was in her elder brother's magazine collection. She'd been passing his room and had heard little whelps and groans. No pain groans, or frightened whelps, but something completely different, something intriguing. Hazel felt that she had to discover what it was.
Around the door, her head tight up against the door frame, she peered at her brother who was lying on the bed, his legs were opened wide, one hand held a glossy mag and the other was gripped around his pee-pee and for some reason his hand was going up and down. The tip was big, and there was a split in it, like a cut, as though he'd hurt himself. But he was smiling, a strange, amazingly happy smile, a golden smile of pleasure. Then as she watched as something came out of the split, but it wasn't red. As it did the moan he uttered was larger and he said "Oh yes, that's good. Oh baby." He grabbed a tissue and mopped it off.
Before he opened his eyes she was gone, knowing that what she'd witnessed was wrong, that if he found out then he'd tell mum, and then Hazel would be in big trouble. But she wanted to see what was in that glossy magazine that was so good that her brother smiled, and she wanted to find out why bleeding white out of his pee-pee felt so good to him.
She found it under his bed. Then she found that it wasn't just one magazine, it was a whole bunch of them. All of them had weird names and had naked women on them and in them. Some showed their front bits, legs stretched out, showing their bits, their hairy private bits. Hazel didn't like that, it seemed really uggh! and she was going to close the pages, but there was another mag. One which showed ladies with big boobies. Some with really big boobies, bigger than anyone she'd ever seen, even bigger than Mrs Greene at school, but she was fat, and these ladies weren't fat. They were skinny, they were lovely. Hazel kept looking at their lovely, beautiful big boobies, fascinated.
"They're really pretty," she thought. "I hope I look like that when I grow up."
Chapter 4
Hazel hadn't said anything for ages, she'd just sat nursing her cup of coffee, staring at the walls of the university canteen. Carl had been moving his mouth, a noise, similiar to speech had emanated from between his thin lips, but Hazel's mind had not registered any of it.
"Do you find me attractive?" Hazel asked suddenly, causing Carl to stop mid-flow about the Blake's Seven convention he wanted to go to.
"What..?"
"Do you find me attractive?"
"Yes, course. You're very nice."
"No, not nice. Attractive."
"Course."
"Do you love me?"
"Course, I do. You know that."
Hazel closed her eyes and took a sip of her stone cold coffee. "Are we in a rut?"
"I don't think so." He smiled with understanding. "Don't let that slut get to you. She's just annoyed that we're doing well and she's not."
"Yeah, but she enjoys herself. She always enjoys herself. Parties, drinking, and the whole shebang. What do we do?"
"We have fun." He paused, concern was etched on to his face. "Don't we? Are you trying to tell me something?"
She touched his hand and gently squeezed and smiled. "No. It's just that. Oh, I don't know. You ever get that feeling that you've lived your life and you might've done things different. That you might've... Oh I don't know."
Into the room strode Emma Bunyan, she was one of the most popular girls in the University, for, the usual, two good reasons. She had worn a low cut blouse to show off the good reasons well, the cleavage was sufficient for a man to loose himself for an afternoon without being bored, and the large hard nipples threatened to burst through the flimsy material of her shirt. Carl, along with every other male in the room, stared, inspecting every motion of those large reasons oscillating and wobbling. Emma was aware of the power she had and she loved the attention she could engender with just a slight shaking of her shoulders.
"Carl..." Hazel said. "Carl..." There was no response, so she grasped his wrist and dug her fingernails in, not too hard, just enough to draw blood.
"Oww! What was that for?"
"Carl, I think you're well aware." She motioned with her head towards Emma who was sitting down, surrounded by a little coterie of fawning men whose gaze was stuck between he necklace and her belt.
"Sorry."
"Do you prefer her to me?"
"No, of course not. I... I really like you, a lot. I..." his forefinger ran a semi-circle around his collar. "I love you."
Hazel smiled. "Yeah, right."
"I do. Look, it doesn't matter where you get your appetite as long as you eat at home." He snaked his arm over the table and let his fingers brush her arm.
Hazel smiled, a plastic false smile which would have melted in the heat of the sun.
It's tits. She thought. It's tits.
BACKGROUND INFORMATION
(This is the stuff that you need to know, but which can't be put into the mouths of the characters without it sounding ridiculous. You know like when the villian in the Bond film tells his "stupid" assistant the entire point of the world domination plan, even when it's quite clear that this is for the benefit of the cinema goers. But enough of my film criticism. So the quickest thing for me to do, because I just can't be bothered, is to just tell it to you, okay? Let's get on, shall we.)
Right, now where was I?
Carl Robbins: Studying the Physical Properties of Time. In his spare time he's trying to develop a form a time machine. Everything else is pretty obvious, really. A bit of an anorak, slightly boring, but loves Hazel.
Hazel Davis: Researching into some form of hormone replacement therapy for girls who are unable, for one reason or another, to achieve orgas... no, sorry, wrong story, for girls who don't fully go through puberty. Or something like that, it's about not getting big enough breasts.
Now, these two strands are very important because... Oo, sorry I shouldn't've said that because it might give the whole game away. Ignore that last bit and just carry on.
Chapter minus 8
Hazel inhaled as hard as she could, filling her lungs past the point of bursting, and still she endeavoured to breathe in some more. Pushing out her chest, desperately trying to make her breasts (not that they could be considered real breasts, not like Vicki, Vicki who had the nicest pair in the school, Vicki who had all the boys flocking round her) look bigger. 32A. For the past god knows how long, she'd been the same. 32A. She'd seen her friends burgeon to 34C, 34D and in one case 36DD. But she'd remained 32A. Stuck in the past, stuck on the lowest of the low, the smallest of the small. And of course she stuck out for ridicule because she didn't stick out.
"Go on. Ask her out." The nasty boys dared one another. "Ask out old flatty."
"What 'er wi' no tits. You're having a laugh."
It bothered her at first, but as time went on, and she became more mature about it, and she became used to the remarks, it began to bother her even more.
TITS TITS TITS.
She was stuck with it, with them. There was nothing she could do. Not really. Wonderbras didn't work that well, you needed something to push up, and she didn't have enough. Stuffing tissues had been fine at first, but when a boy put his hand in your bra not to feel you up but to retrieve something to blow his nose then you knew there was something wrong.
But when she found she had a flair for biology, when she decided to research into hormones and the effect of the pre-pubescent female, she had an idea.
However the hormones she began injecting into her breasts, only made the nipples sore and the tissue around the micro-wound hyper-sensative. And the worst thing of all was there was no increase in size.
None at all.
Chapter 18
As the machinery slowed down and then stopped, Hazel looked about her. It all seemed the same as before, but the empty vials in her pocket and the memory she had told of a different story. Where it had been altered and she would be happy with herself and what nature had given her.
She pressed the switches to the 'off' position and observed that the dials had returned to a number approaching zero. She hoped that Carl thought this was normal. In fact where was Carl? She looked at her watch, she'd only been gone a few minutes, what: twenty at most, surely he would have waited around for her to return. Unless he had to go for a leak, he seemed to have to do that a great recently. Perhaps it was the pressure. She chuckled at her own unintentional joke.
Stepping outside the confines of the capsule she suddenly felt hot and bothered, and the intense heat concentrated upon her chest.
Oh, of course, she thought, it's starting.
Glancing down she stared at the gradual swelling that was going on under her top. Soon she would be given the bosom she deserved.
The warmth grew incredibly hot and the pressure in each of her breasts became immense, and as she looked the speed at which her breasts were growing appeared to increase at an exponential rate. Like two hot air balloons being inflated on her ribcage, but unlike a hot air balloon each of them was filled with living tissue and was becoming heavier with each passing moment.
After a few minutes she was on the floor, her breasts covering her upper torso and very soon her legs. She cried for help, hoping that Carl would hear, but he didn't appear to be around.
SOME MORE CHEATING
Now what I've got to say at this point is that although I don't know anything at all about Physics or Biology, or for that matter Quantum Mechanics, I do know about The Metaphysical Poets, Modern English Literature and Journalism, but what that's got to do with anything I've no idea.
I seem to have forgotten what was going on... if you'll excuse me for one moment I'm just going to read what's been going on up there ^. I'll be back in a sec, amuse yourselves for a mo. Sorry about this, I know it's a bit unprofessional, but... well, whatcha gonna do?
((Whistles the theme tune to Van Der Valk))
Right, I'm back now. I remember what I was doing.
You see what you need to know is Hazel had been experimenting on various hormones that did work, hormones that did increase the speed and intensity of puberty. She'd tested it on... oh I don't know, refugees from some Eastern Bloc country, or dogs... no, not dogs, I happen to like dogs... I married one... erm. Well, all that you need to know is that she tested it somehow, right.
Yes, I know it doesn't make sense, but for god's sake this is only a story. Suspend disbelief for a few moments more.
Now... erm... what's next...
Chapter 9
"Would you like me more if I had larger breasts?"
Carl stopped mid stride and nearly fell over. "I beg your pardon?"
"Bigger breasts. You know. These." She touched her chest where, if she was a larger woman, she'd have breasts.
"I love you just as you are."
"Oh, come on. I saw the way you were looking at Emma. And it's got nothing to do with her personality and intelligence, or lack of them. It's to do with her tits."
"You've got inner beauty. That's why I'm going out with you."
"Oh bullshit. Just answer one question. It's pretty simple, and you should be able to answer it." She took a deep breath. "What would you think if I had bigger boobs?"
"You can't afford implants. It's dangerous."
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, CAN'T YOU JUST ANSWER ONE QUESTION."
Carl halted. His brain stopped. His face was expressionless. His vocal chords started to bubble.
"Yes. Okay? Happy? Yes. I'd love you to have big tits. Happy now? Eh. Happy!?"
Hazel smiled. "Yes. I admire honesty in a relationship."
Carl shook his head in confusion. Who was this woman? He'd been going out with her for three years and he didn't have a clue.
"Well, as you said, I can't afford surgery. But perhaps we can use both of our areas of expertise and alter a few things."
"What're you talking about?"
Hazel ruffled his hair. "Your Time Machine, stupid."
Chapter minus 4
"You've done what, Carl?"
He grinned. "Built a working Time Machine."
"You're having a laugh."
"No, straight up. A real, working Time Machine. Send things forwards or backwards."
"That's amazing. Is it safe?"
"Ab-so-lutely. I sent a dog backwards in time, and he survived. Well, until he was crushed to death by an Allosaurus."
"How do you know that, did you go back with it?"
"Right," coughed Carl, staring at the author who'd just shrugged. "Shall we have a cup of tea and some Dundee Cake?"
"What's your point in inventing a Time Machine, anyway."
"Oh the usual reasons. One lump or two."
"None, thank you. And what reasons are they?"
"Milk?"
"Please. Are you going to answer the question?"
No, he's not, said the author.
"Who said that?" Hazel looked around the room
"Oh, it was just the radio. Well, I'm not sure what uses I can put it to right now. But I'm sure they'll be one in the future."
Chapter 13
"Right we're all set then." Said Hazel. "You've set the Time Machine coordinates for my puberty and where I used to live. I've got the hormones ready, along with the subliminal tape which I'll play to myself so that in the future I still go to university and study Biology and concentrate on hormones and puberty and that I still look for you so that I can go back in time and inject myself. Thus not breaking the common problem people have in these Time Machine stories."
Carl scratched his head. "What a weird thing to say. It's like being in a film where they have to explain part of the plo..."
"Shut up will you, Carl. Sometimes you are so obvious, it's amazing."
Hazel paced into the cubicle and was sealed in.
"Ready?" Carl asked.
"Yes."
"Ten, nine, eight, seven..."
"Just press the button!"
"Okay, okay."
Lights coruscated around her, the cage glowed, and the room and Carl began to fade.
Chapter minus 10
It was just a projection backwards, a room with a door opening into another dimension. Staring through the window, Hazel saw herself, her younger self lying in bed, asleep. She crept out and administered a sedative, then placed the walkman with the subliminal tape around her head, ensuring that the headphones were placed over her ears.
Gently pulling the covers back Hazel stared down at her own undented and unimpressive chest.
"It'll all change soon." She whispered. "This should give you double DDs at least."
She filled the hypodermic and with great care injected the same quantity into each of her breasts. As she did she saw a slight wince in her younger self's face.
"Sorry, baby. Sorry."
She got back inside the Time Machine, forwarded herself on a few hours, then got out and removed the walkman.
Hopefully, she thought, that will be enough.
DON'T ASK ME, I HAVEN'T GOT A CLUE, MATE
If you do have any questions, can you please wait until the end of lecture where the moron... er... the author will answer any queries you may have. Thank you.
Chapter 17
On the way back Hazel wondered why her bosom hadn't increased already. Surely if she'd administered the serum, then she'd be her new self already. Unless she was in a transitory state at the moment, actually between realities, between her old self and her new self.
Well, I'll soon find out whether it went right when I get back.
Chapter 22
The growth had continued at such a rate that she was unable to move what-so-ever, she was trapped beneath her massive mammaries. Carl's bound to come back some time she thought, that's if it is him who created this machine. But all she could remember was the fact that she had achieved a double first in Biology and in Physics, and the name 'Carl' was fading fast.
Of course, she thought, it's the loop effect. Time doesn't carry on once, but an infinite number of times, it's entirely circular, the ripples in the fabric of the Space-Time continuum get stronger each time. In fact there wasn't just one of her that had gone back in time, but an entire army.
But that would mean that the growth would...
Oh dear... she thought... oh dear...
Finis
Today's Tale from Kunikos has been brought to you by the Letter Q and the number 3.141592654.
Thank you for listening.
Pleasant dreams.