Disclaimer: If BE and its cohorts are not your thing, whether in the way of legality or in the way of distaste, then please do not blame me for the things you will find in this story.

If you do enjoy this type of thing and are eager to continue, then thank you for taking the time to read the disclaimer. I hope you enjoy the contents herein.

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Pianissimo Allegro

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Another day had flown by like an eagle swooping for the kill, fast and almost violent in its stealthy approach. She came home from work weary, almost entirely drained of energy and bursting to let out some of her pent-up stress. Her piano had always been useful for that particular outlet, and now was the perfect time to put it to good use. She sat upon the worn-out old piano seat and found it was homely and comfortable, and she hoped the exhaustion would wither away gradually as she played.

And so she began.

Her fingers fluttered over the keys and she bathed in the flow of music drifting out of the piano innards. Closing her eyes, she saw the waves of the piece coursing over her body, as real as those you’d find by the beach in Hawaii and twice as gentle. They ran over her figure, sharp and slender as it was, smoothing the edges of her body like stones in the current - where there were once points now there were curves, no longer hard and stress-hewn but soft and subtle. The feeling was marvellous and she basked in it, tickling the ivories as if they were sensitive, and required a degree of care not unlike that bestowed upon a baby. The piece ended, and she breathed the last shred of it into her lungs happily.

Following the softness of the first piece, she decided to play a contrasting item which, she hoped, would pound away the cares of the day and make it her own. The pedals moved under her feet as she pressed heavily onto the keys again, the music resounding around her and filling her with bursts of achievement. She breathed it in again and felt it boom heavily around her torso, her chest swelling with pride and success in the art she had produced within each spattering of notes. It swelled larger with each note, with each breath, and with every inch of her passion for music, until she burst through into a carefree atmosphere, shivering with pleasure. Another piece over, and room only for comfort now. 

She played a soft melody and felt it ease her remaining discomfort, the seat beneath her moulded into itself and became easier to sink into. As the music swelled, so a cushion did swell into existence beneath her once-bony posterior. It grew and plumped into a shape which moved with her and became her, eventually becoming such a comfort that she was inclined to stop playing and simply sit in silence for a moment.

Opening her eyes, she was amazed at how much better she felt. The world had opened its arms to her and she’d hopped in without hesitation, welcoming its embrace like never before. She looked into the mirror shyly and was somehow not surprised to see herself, more beautiful than she’d ever seen anyone look, glancing back at her. Her curves were pronounced and flawless, her bones no longer visible beneath the flesh and her ribs completely obscured by her bust, now enlarged to perfect proportions and exposed by her newly-torn blouse. Turning to the side she regarded her rear and the way it had swelled out, pushing into her clothing and yet yielding to it.

It was then she remembered that the hourglass had yet to be turned before her piano session could really begin.