More Minutes

by Fret Pearson

Author's note: This is a sequel to "The Minutes." You should read the stories in the proper order, or risk being confused.

The matronly saleswoman at Fleece's Department Store wouldn't stop talking about Karen's breasts. At first it had just been embarassing, but now Karen was downright distracted. I could have gone to any store in the mall to be measured, she thought, and I came here. What was I thinking?

"Sure has been a while since I saw a pair this big," the saleswoman was saying. "But I guess it's the trend for young girls these days."

One of Karen's classmates, Tricia Mullin, assisted the older woman and was making a big show of being disgusted at having to help hold Karen's massive breasts while they were measured. Karen stood with her back to her classmate, topless. She could see a hint of dark stubble in her armpit, and realized she hadn't shaved in a while. With the sudden growth of her breasts, she hadn't had time to think about much else. The stubble was a welcome bit of disgust, and helped clear her head. Anything to keep her mind away from sexual thoughts.

Her chest was so sensitive that she needed all her concentration to keep from groping herself. It didn't help that the department store's air conditioning seemed to be set at maximum in an attempt to lure customers in from the summer heat. Karen's knees were weak. The problem was that her boobs were the focus of attention, and seemed to know it. Tricia's touch felt wonderful, even if Karen hated the girl. Karen knew that if she closed her eyes, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from doing something she regretted. Every slide of the measuring tape beneath and across her slopes sent shivers up and down her spine. The saleswoman motioned for Tricia and Karen to hold the breasts higher.

"I gotta get under there again."

On the first day of Karen's summer job as a secretary at the old Science Steaks World Headquarters building, she had accidentally inhaled some gnomes' bones. The magic in the bones had briefly made her susceptible to other people's statements - if someone said something about her behind her back, the exact opposite would become true. The effect had stopped two days after it began. But by then Karen's boobs were just slightly bigger than breadboxes. That in itself was bad enough. But it turned out that they were so sensitive that she completely lost control if they were fondled.

It had put a real dent in her goth image, which she still tried to maintain. Her leather jacket rested on a hook by the dressing room's plated mirror. In the glass Karen could see her short, spiked, white hair. Her "Midnight Rouge" lipstick. Her ankh earrings. And a pair of pale overgrown canteloupes that threw the whole package off-kilter, big time.

She was still trying to figure out her boyfriend's role in her transformation. Greg had figured out what was going on fairly quickly - maybe too quickly - and although she knew he couldn't be blamed for everything that had happened, she couldn't help but feel that he had definitely taken advantage of the situation. Her feelings for him were mixed. She had always believed sexual impulses were a trap, something for the sheep at Washington High School to revel in briefly before graduation, when their jobs as burger-flippers became careers. She had put herself above all that. She had embraced the goth lifestyle, with her spiked hair and leather clothes. The actual act of sex had been solely masturbatory images of darkness and vampires, something to dream about but never possess. Innocent cuddling was the best sort of physical contact she imagined the real world offered. But all that had changed. Now her body had very real desires and cravings she couldn't ignore, seemingly emanating from her tits. Just thinking about Greg was exciting her. God, Tricia's hands were warm!

"36L!" the saleswoman announced proudly. "On a 36 Fleece's Mature, L is the start of the BIG strap. I call it the backbuster! You'll see what I mean." She exited the dressing room.

Tricia took her hands away from Karen. If you say anything about my nipples being hard I swear I'll punch your cheerleader face, Karen thought. She reached for the three oversized T-shirts wadded on top of her jacket, but her boobs dropped painfully and she had to catch them again and support them until the pulling was bearable. Leaning backwards helped only somewhat. Tricia seemed to be suppressing a giggle. Karen glared at her as she held the T-shirts under her breasts, cradling them in black cotton.

In the parking lot, Karen navigated her new bra-clad missiles between cars and shopping carts. The bra was already hurting her shoulders, despite the pads. It felt like one or both straps were twisted or pinching her somehow, but she knew the bra was on correctly. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. Just raising her arm caused the strap on the shoulder to rub slightly. She was determined to hide her globes behind her leather jacket, at least as much as she was able. Her breasts were hot in the cups. Damn this bra, she thought. This "backbuster" should be called the "son of a bitch" bra. But it did give her support.

"Karen! Karen Richards!"

She swiveled her head to see who was calling her. Swinging her boobs around, she noticed Tricia running from the department store's entrance.

"Wait up, please?" the girl called. Karen rolled her eyes and stared at someone's license plate until the preppy brunette arrived. She wondered if she had forgotten anything in the store, or if there had been a mistake with her purchase.

"What?" she said.

"Tell me your secret!" the cheerleader blurted out.

Karen just stared at her, until she finally realized Tricia was talking about her boobs.

"I mean, I've seen all the boob jobs at school," the girl continued, "but I never thought any of them were real. I used to think I was pretty big, but now with you and those other girls I'm not even average! I'm missing out on all the action. And then just now in the dressing room I could feel they were real, so I want to get big boobs, too!"

Karen looked at Tricia's B or C cup chest. "Are you crazy? You felt how heavy these are. Do you think that feels good?"

Tricia smirked. "I could tell how it felt. I know that look you had on your face. It's the same look Katie Johnson used to get in the gym locker room and then we all found out she was gay, remember?"

"Leave me alone," Karen said. She walked to her car and fumbled with her keys. Her breasts rested on the glass of the driver's side window. Finally she got the door open and sat inside. The seat was positioned far back, so her breasts wouldn't try to drive, too. She tossed the shopping bag of bras onto the passenger side floor, started the car, and pulled away.

"Was it the pills in the magazines?" Tricia yelled. "Or the cream?"

"Will you look at that!" Mrs. Bauer exclaimed. She handed a folded piece of newspaper to Mr. Dupree. Karen had been trying to avoid her boss' boss, the lecherous Mr. Dupree, all morning. But he kept sneaking around the office. She still couldn't believe she had lost her virginity to the old geezer! Ever since sleeping with him, he had been spending more and more time in Mrs. Bauer's department, despite Karen's obvious denials for a repeat. She shuddered to remember what she had done in the balding executive's office.

"Yeah, isn't that something," Mr. Dupree said. "Those workers finished the renovation so fast they get to have dinner with the president. I still can't believe it. Lucky fuckers. And just a few days ago I remember saying how they were the worst workers in the world. Remember how lazy they were at first?"

"I remember," said Mrs. Bauer.

"It's the damndest thing..." He had a thoughtful look on his face, like he was trying to put two and two together. He looked for the hundredth time at Karen's chest, despite it being hidden behind her partly-zipped leather jacket. Karen imagined she could feel the temperature of her boobs rise a few degrees whenever he stared at them. Looking away didn't help, because then she imagined his staring was even more focused. Her palms began to sweat.

The phone rang. Mr. Dupree jumped.

"I'm not here," he told Karen. She answered quickly, glad for any distraction that might keep her mind off of her tits.

"Nancy Bauer's office." She recognized the garage background noise immediately, even before the voice on the other end spoke.

"Listen to me please, Karen. I said I was sorry about what happened. I didn't know that... I mean, you have to admit it felt pretty good and-"

"You knew!" Karen yelled into the phone, and slammed it down. Asshole, she thought. I've got to get these boobs gone, pronto. They've ruined my life! She wondered if there were still gnome bones imbedded in the concrete somewhere in the building. Maybe Greg's books about gnomes could help her find a way to defeat the effects of the magic. She remembered Greg shoving them into the trash can next to her desk.

But looking down into the can, she discovered that the books were gone.

The fingers were groping her faster now, lifting her breasts high on her chest and then flattening them downward. Slippery palms brushed her nipples, and Karen tried unsuccessfully to lean into them, to further the contact. Now her nipples were wet and slick, too. It was a delightful and maddening contrast to their hardness.

She realized she was panting. Stopping only made the slurping sounds of the hands on her tits seem louder. She let her breath out in a whoosh of air when her right nipple was tugged, the tip pinched cruelly for a second before her breast snapped back into place. Her eyes were so tightly clamped that she saw stars. Or was she feeling stars? Were the sensations from her boobs so powerful that they were echoing on her retinas?

"Harder," she tried to whisper. But her mouth was stuck open in a silent scream and the words distorted.

The nipple-tugging increased and now the hands' fingers and palms were somehow working independently. As her nipples were thumbed and rolled by the demonic fingers, palms were painfully kneading her breasts against one another, in a frantic attempt to erase her cleavage. It was too much. The urgency was rising. There was too much feeling and now her mouth was saying something but she couldn't understand and why couldn't she open her eyes she was stuck in an explosion of feelings and slurping sounds and the smell was overpowering... Rainforest Extracts shampoo?

She orgasmed with a whimper. Satisfaction bathed her in fuzziness, and she opened her eyes. The fluffy toilet seat cover was wet at her crotch, her naked chest was frosted with shampoo lather, and someone was calling her name from downstairs.

"Karen," her dad repeated, "You have a visitor!"

Quickly she pulled up her shorts and tore several handfuls of tissues from the box above the sink. She cleaned her chest as quickly as possible and put on her shirt and jacket. The whole bathroom reeked of Rainforest Extracts shampoo. She threw the half-empty bottle into the bathtub, and the stained toilet seat cover into the clothes hamper.

She yelled down from the upstairs hallway, her voice cracking. "Tell him that I never want to see him again! As far as I'm concerned we're through! And no calls!"

"Her name is Tricia," Karen's father said. "She says she goes to school with you."

Jesus Christ, thought Karen.

Tricia met Karen in her bedroom. She pretended to be interested in Karen's posters, but Karen knew she had no idea who the various bands were.

"I like roses, too. But it looks like there's blood dripping out the bottom. Kinda scary, huh? Listen, I know we never really hung out at school, but I've got nothing to do this summer except work and if you can help me grow bigger boobs I can maybe give you some pointers. You know, about guys and, uh, fashion and stuff. I mean, I couldn't help but overhear what you said about that mechanic guy who failed geometry. Dumping him is a good move. Trust me on that. Think of how much better you ca do now with those big boobs. Especially if you grow your hair out. See, the way I see it is, you can either look fat or show off your tits. The first step..."

Karen stared at Tricia in shock, her mind elsewhere. The girl's voice was fading. How come I can't remember what happened in the bathroom? she thought. Why did I... do that? The last thing she could remember was a brief thought about how nice it would feel to have her breasts rubbed with hot oil, then she was waking up with shampoo all over her hands. She could still feel a soapy dampness in the slight crease beneath her breasts.

There was no doubt about it. Her breasts were controlling her life. She had to sneak around in a leather jacket that barely zipped up (and when it did, made her look pregnant), buy bras secretly with her OWN money, and put up with constant stares and wisecracks from her new coworkers. But worst of all, she had had sex for the first time with an old fart she barely knew and she had no hope of ever taking it back! She had had sex with Greg, too, and an Indian girl from some other department at Science Steaks. She flinched as she remembered the disgusting things she had done with that female clerk. It was as if all her dreams were being purposefully spited. She tried to blink back the oncoming tears. She couldn't. What were her fantasies worth now? She sat on the corner of her bed and sobbed.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Tricia. "Why are you crying?" The cheerleader looked around the bedroom, a bit frightened. When Karen didn't reply, she sat and put her arm around Karen's shoulder. In spite of herself, Karen hugged Tricia tightly, worrying her tear-filled eyes into the brunette's shoulder.

"I never wanted to have sex," she sobbed, her voice muffled by Tricia's collarbone. "I just wanted to have a guy hold me close, and then fall asleep in his arms. That's it. That's all I ever wanted. On a deck chair or maybe on a couch... I never got the chance. And now... now look at me! Look what happened to me!" Tricia hugged Karen tightly and brushed her spikes again and again, trying to comfort her. All Karen could do was screw her eyes tighter into Tricia's stupid bunny rabbit T-shirt and let some of the past week's buildup of anxiety wash out of her.

Karen stuck her head out of Mrs. Bauer's office doorway and looked up and down the corridor. Most of the people who knew what she was supposed to be doing were at the daily financial meeting. Now was her chance to search the west annex for any leftovers from the renovation - especially chips of old concrete, or dust.

So far, the coast was clear. She hurried to the third floor lobby and slid between the glass doors of the west annex. She wasn't sure that she could differentiate between bone chips and concrete, but she HAD to get rid of her big tits and the daily meeting was her only chance to leave the office without being hassled.

She heard a sudden running in the corridor around the corner ahead and looked frantically for some place to hide. She pulled open the first door she saw without a name on it and slipped inside.

Inside the dark room, Mr. Dupree squealed in abject horror, then sighed in obvious relief when he saw it was Karen. They stared at each other in the small abandoned office, empty except for some old filing cabinets and a huge yellow copier with the note "broken please repair" taped to it. The running footsteps passed by outside and faded away as the person left the west annex for the third floor lobby of the main building.

"Thank God it's only you, Graveyard Shift!" said Mr. Dupree. "I thought she was going to catch me for sure."

"Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting right now?" Karen said.

"Nah, I told those jackasses that I had diarrhea. I can't be over there because SHE knows my schedule."

"Mrs. Bauer?"

Mr. Dupree laughed. "No, no. That Indian girl Niri. From Shipping." His voice lowered. "You see, she was always on my list. A bit flat, but cute. The thing is, she never went for my wiggle, never took the bait if you know what I mean. I figured her for a lesbian. What the hey, I can respect that. We got a lot of cute lesbians here. But then a few days ago she jumps me in my office and she's insatiable! I thought I was back in the jungle. Now she won't leave me alone. She follows me everywhere. Honestly, I'm being stalked. I don't know what's gotten into her, but she's trouble. My heart can't it. She's going to kill me! I gotta get Terry to fire her, but that bastard has it in for me."

Karen stared at his wide, serious eyes for a few seconds, then turned and opened the office door. She stepped into the corridor but was pulled roughly back into the tiny room, causing her breasts to jiggle. Her robin blue "backbuster" bra held the tips of her tits in place, but the fatty top halves of her melons bobbed like buoys in a riptide.

"Hey!" Mr. Dupree said. "We need to talk. I know about what happened to your tits." He pulled Karen's leather jacket open and it fell to the floor between her and the door. Her white T-shirt was tucked into her slacks. Her breasts rested, despite the bra, just above her navel. Mr. Dupree licked his lips.

"If you touch me," Karen growled, "I'll scream." But then her nickel-sized nipples chose that moment to tighten and grow. It was as if the very word "touch," coming so soon after a heavy jiggle, had triggered them. The small, abandoned office suddenly felt very, very warm. The twin plugs at the tips of her breasts pushed against the satin cups of her bra as they extended even further. Karen suddenly felt like her mind was swimming in a steamy fog, and she knew without a doubt that nothing could stop her from closing her eyes and stepping two big steps forward until her melons were squashed flatly, like swollen fat pancakes, against Mr. Dupree's chest.

But then he spoke and his words shocked her senses back into place, stopping her cold.

"You see, I found two very interesting books in Nancy's office. I'm not usually one for reading, but they were pretty easy and yesterday and today I've been outside of my office so much that I needed something to do. Imagine my surprise when I found out just how you happened to go from an A cup to, what is that, double H? And it also explains how that construction crew finished rebuilding this annex in three days instead of two months. Yes, that's right. I know all about it. It wasn't that hard to figure out, thanks to your boyfriend underlining all the important parts. And of course writing, 'this happened to Karen,' in the margin helped, too.

"Now, the way I see it, if we work together we can both come out ahead with this gnome magic. Besides us, no one else knows about it except your boyfriend, the expert. If we all join forces we'll be set for life. Just think about it - we can be young and rich and famous. And sex! We can get it whenever we want and wherever we like it. A chance like this only comes along once in your life. You're lucky to get yours so young. Look at me, I've been waiting all my life."

He paused. "We can't do this during the day. Tonight, meet me at the guardhouse out front at eight o'clock. Bring your boyfriend, too. Everyone will be outside by then, and I can get the custodian to let us in. We'll tear this place apart if we have to, and find some bones from those gnomes that got dropped into the support molds back in eighteen-whenever-the-fuck-it-was."

Greg answered the phone on the first ring.

"It's me, Greg," Karen said. Her legs were hanging off of her bed She kicked them idly against her chest of drawers. Lying down, her breasts actually touched her chin. She couldn't believe it.

"Oh Karen, thank God you called! Please believe me, I am so sorry. I keep thinking how much I fucked up. Please, you don't know how I've been suffering. Listen, I think I know a way to fix things. I've still got-"

"You idiot!" she said. "My boss' boss found those library books and now he knows about what happened. He wants us to meet him tonight at eight at Science Steaks so we can help him find more bones. And dammit, you'd better be there because I am NOT spending the rest of my life looking like your fucking wet dream!"

That ought to tell him off, she thought with some satisfaction. She rested one hand on her flattened breasts before she knew what she was doing. She wanted to remove it but something had been important about what she just said... What was it? She tried to think. Wet dream. That was it. The words held a strange fascination. She gently traced circles around the pale flesh spilling forth from her bra. My boobs are his wet dream, she thought. Her other hand joined her first, slipping inside the pale blue material.

"All I want is for you to be happy, baby," he said. "I've been thinking, we don't even have to make you smaller, technically. We could use the magic to make you like having big tits. I mean, it's an option, something to think about at least..."

Despite her growing pleasure, she felt alarms go off in her head. I can't trust him, she thought. All he wants to do is play with my rich, soft boobs. My big tits. She squirmed her arms beneath the bra straps that were hindering her hands, scraping her forearms as she forced them through. He wants me to like having these fat titties and thick nipples. If we use the magic again he'll just make me always horny, like I was before. And Mr. Dupree would probably do worse. She groaned as she caught a nipple in her teeth momentarily before it popped out. I can't trust anyone. The phone fell from the bed. It seemed funny to worry so much about the best-feeling parts of her body. Even though in the back of her mind she knew she would feel differently in a few minutes, for now all she wanted to do was grope herself and make her tits feel heavenly. She unbuttoned her slacks dreamily.

One hour later, her mind clear, she called Tricia Mullin and offered the cheerleader a deal.

The Science Steaks parking lot was mostly empty, and the six story building seemed to float before the smoggy background of haze drifting over the industrial park. The moon hadn't yet risen, but the tendrils of smoke and airborn grime reflected the parking lot lights and freeway street lights, so the building was clearly visible, if shrouded in shadows. All its windows were black. The gargoyle water spouts were mere silhouettes against the smog. Karen parked in the row of spots next to the guardhouse, then she and Tricia got out of the car.

"You'll really give me big boobs?" Tricia asked.

"Shut up about it already," Karen said. "After you make mine smaller, you can have boobs as big as you want." Tricia smiled happily to herself as the girls walked to the guardhouse. Karen still couldn't believe that Tricia had changed into her cheerleading outfit when she found out they were going to be sneaking into a building, as if it might aid the girls on their "mission." She saw Greg's pickup truck parked at the far corner of the lot, next to one of the side entrances.

"I have to say everything in the negative, right?" said Tricia.

"I'll tell you what to say when it's time. Don't worry about it now."

The guardhouse door was propped open with a cement block next to the bushes. Inside the one-room shack, Karen could see Mr. Dupree talking to Greg, and two other older men sitting at desks. One she recognized as the head custodian, Charlie. The other she didn't know. They were watching a Kenny Rogers concert on one of the five small black and white television monitors. Karen and Tricia stepped inside.

"Well, the gang's all here," said Mr. Dupree. "And one extra. Is she an expert on gnomes, too?"

"This is Tricia," said Karen. "She's going in with us." Charlie and his friend in overhauls were staring shamelessly at her breasts. Goddam, it never ends, she thought. She tried to ignore their gaze. Thankfully they soon switched to Tricia's legs.

"Hi!" said Tricia. "What are gnomes?"

"You want something to read while you wait, try these lovey-dovey books," Charlie told Mr. Dupree. There was a stack of romance novels on his desk. "They sure are interesting."

"Nah," said Mr. Dupree. "I can't read those things. I always skip to the bacon."

The man in overhauls stood up. "Hold on," he said. He went to the door and looked out into the parking lot suspiciously. Karen saw that the name "Frank Pratt" was written on his nametag. She assumed he was a security guard. Greg stepped over to Karen and stood next to her. She pushed him away angrily before he could speak.

"Well, when I'm bored I watch the TV here," said Charlie. "Frank's got his second job stuffing boxes to keep him occupied." He gestured to Frank's desk, which held a clutter of old candelabra, lamps, and other assorted antiques, next to some paper and empty boxes with stamps preaffixed to them. Mr. Dupree turned to Karen.

"There's been a change in plans."

"Make that two changes, Dupree," said Frank. He reached into the bushes and pulled out a black ponytail. Attached to it was Niri, the Indian girl Karen had seduced in the bathroom after losing her sexual inhibitions. Niri squirmed and cried out as Frank pulled her by the hair into the guardhouse. Karen looked at Mr. Dupree and saw that his face was white.

"I'm going, too!" Niri said. She was wearing a tight black miniskirt and a thin, lowcut sweater with a neckline that barely covered her shoulders. The brown tops of her small breasts were exposed and displaying cleavage, thanks to a pushup bra. They bounced as Frank pushed her into an extra swivel chair in the corner.

"No way!" said Mr. Dupree. "Check her for weapons."

"She's clean," said Frank, dismissing Mr. Dupree's request as idiocy with a wave of his hand. "She work for the company?"

"Yes. Her first name is Niri. I can't pronounce her last name."

"You let me go in, too, or I'll tell everyone in Shipping about the magic!" said Niri. She bit her lower lip defiantly. Charlie and Frank looked at Mr. Dupree. The executive considered the threat, and shrugged.

"What the fuck," he relented. "I'm not going in anyway. Sure. Why not?"

"What?" Karen said.

"Tell them, Charlie."

The custodian spun on his swivel chair to face Karen and Tricia. "There are still gnomes in there," he said. "I mean live ones. That's why, officially, no one is allowed in there after dark. Hell, I'm supposed to be in there cleaning right now. Fuck that. The day I was hired was the first and last night I spent in there - the night my hair turned white. Maybe you've heard stories about Science Steaks being haunted. Well, it is. But not by nothing dead."

"You ask me, it's nothing but rats," said Frank. He put a candelabrum into a box with a note and began taping the lid.

"Shut up you damn fool!" said Charlie. "They took that soil sample over at the watershed and come up with a human toe. At least they said it was human. I remember reading about it. Now what is a live toe doing three hundred feet underground? I tell you this area is riddled with tunnels, and they probably converge on this building. This area was nothing but slaughterhouses a hundred and fifty years ago, it's no wonder. Now these gnomes are nothing but trouble, and who knows how many of them there are? There's no place for them in today's modern world with toasters that talk to you and cars that talk to you and even fucking elevators are talking. They can't even get jobs illustrating elementary school textbooks anymore. You best just go home and forget this fool plan!"

"I'm not scared of gnomes!" Greg said.

"Well, gnomes or rats, my heart can't take it," said Mr. Dupree. "That's why I'll be monitoring you guys from out here." He glanced at Niri. "Since there are four of you, you can split up into groups of two. Each group will get a walkie talkie. We'll be able to track you out here on the closed circuit security cameras." He looked at Frank. "Say, you don't tape off of those cameras, do you?"

"Not when we're watching Kenny Rogers on the VCR, we don't," Frank said.

Greg moved closer to Karen again and she shoved him away even harder than before. "Tricia and I will go together, so FUCK off!" she yelled. This might work out well, she thought. Being alone with Tricia will make it even less of a gamble. She reasoned that if they found some bones only they would know, then Tricia could shrink Karen's boobs to normal before either Greg or Mr. Dupree could say something about her behind her back and ruin it.

Niri saw Greg alone and clasped her arms around him, rubbing her breasts into his leather jacket. Karen shrugged away a twinge of jealousy. Niri grinned lasciviously at Mr. Dupree as she pressed herself tightly to the tall high school senior. Mr. Dupree's face was expressionless.

"Okay, if you find anything that might be a bone, you come out with it immediately! Any questions?"

"What are gnomes?" Tricia said again.

Charlie locked the chain on the lobby doors behind them, then quickly headed down the walk back to the parking lot.

"Can't we turn on some more of the lights?" Tricia said. She shivered. Karen was frightened, too, but nothing was going to stop her from regaining her old chest. Besides, she thought, I'm not some prissy cheerleader who can't function unless she's in constant sunshine. I'm a night person. She remembered her fantasy about becoming a vampiress queen. She was a goth; it ought to offer her some advantage.

The two teams began walking through the shadowy lobby. Karen and Greg each had a walkie talkie and flashlight. Niri's heels clicked loudly on the hard tiles. Greg handed her the flashlight and flipped his walkie talkie from hand to hand.

"Where are we going?" asked Tricia.

Greg and Karen both spoke at the same time:

"The roof," said Greg.

"The basement," said Karen.

Karen smiled. The teams separated.

Karen and Tricia found the stairwell next to the first floor lobby elevators and started down. Dim ceiling lights twinkled occasionally, but enabled them to see without having to rely on the flashlight. Tricia was walking so close to Karen that she kept bumping into her. Finally Karen put Tricia's hand on her arm and the cheerleader squeezed it. "Thanks," she whispered.

They opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. Darkness awaited behind it. Karen had never been in the basement before, and had no idea what to expect. She turned on the flashlight and the girls saw an old corridor leading off to the left and right. They stepped out of the stairwell and the door banged shut behind them. There was a dim light visible far off to the left.

"The oldest concrete should be down here," Karen said. "I think the west annex is this way." They turned right and began walking.

"What was it like?" Tricia asked.

"Huh?"

"When your boobs grew out. What did it feel like?"

Karen didn't answer. She felt her nipples stir slightly. "Can't we talk about anything else besides boobs?"

Tricia made a high pitched keening sound in the back of her throat. "I think about it and I bet it just felt wonderful. Your boobs swelling bigger and bigger, getting all heavy and tight in your bra. Did they pop out or did you have to pull up your bra before it got too tight? Oh! Did your nipples get bigger? I hope mine do. I think guys like big nipples..."

"Shut up!" Karen yelled. It echoed in the long corridor and the girls heard a muffled crash from somewhere else in the basement, possibly in front of them. Karen flashed the flashlight around but couldn't see anything besides the white passageway in front and behind them. Tricia was squeezing her arm in fright, hurting her despite the thick leather. The girls stood still, listening. All Karen could hear was the sound of their breathing.

"Hey!" the walkie talkie buzzed, and both girls jumped. It was Mr. Dupree. "Okay, I can see Graveyard Shift and her friend in the basement, and Greg and little Miss Hellcat on the fifth floor."

"That's the sixth floor," Frank said.

"Whatever. Graveyard Shift. Turn around and go back into the east annex. There are some bins in the loading docks that might have some leftovers from the renovation in them. Look in the dumpsters and what not. Greg! Keep going through the archways until you get to two sets of double glass doors. Is there a camera in there?"

"Yeah," said Frank. "You gotta turn the sheet over."

"Uh, roger," said Greg.

Karen and Tricia walked back the way they came and found the entrance to the loading docks next to a service elevator. Light flooded from the open elevator doors. Tricia pulled Karen to a stop, frightened at the open elevator.

"There's nothing in there," Karen said. She pulled the reluctant cheerleader past and then opened the loading docks' inner door. They entered. It was much warmer in the huge tin enclosure due to lack of air conditioning. Two refrigerated trucks were parked next to a row of dumpsters and large metal trash bins. A horseshoe-shaped walkway lead to the large outside doors. Ladders were welded to the walls, leading up to a system of supports and catwalks.

The walkie talkie buzzed again. "Hold on," Mr. Dupree said. "Greg. Check back behind the door to your left. I thought I saw something move in there. Get that girl to hold the light steady. Graveyard Shift, get in those dumpsters. Look for any chips of mortar or concrete at the bottoms. Can't these stupid things zoom in?"

"Nothing there," Greg said.

"Back in the hallway, in that shadow," Frank said. "See it?"

"What is that?" said Mr. Dupree. "Look here. Can't we punch up the other side of the room? Holy shit! Niri, shine the light back behind you again, something moved over there under the table."

"Where?" Greg said. "I don't see anything."

"Dammit, there's something by that table... No! Now look over by the door again. Don't you see it? Check that shadow again. No, to your right. It must be on both sides of the room. Something is moving in there godammit!"

"There's nothing here!" Greg said.

"Pull your team out, Dupree!" said Charlie.

"I don't see anything, are you sure?"

"It's just rats," said Frank.

"My ass. Look, there it goes again, in the corner! Greg, don't go any further. Get back into the hallway. What the fuck?"

Tricia grabbed Karen in fright as they heard a high pitched, far away female scream float dimly down from the ceiling. Karen looked up and saw an air duct set high in the tin wall of the sloped corner of the room. Then the walkie talkie clicked and Niri's scream poured out of it and into the room with them, before Mr. Dupree interrupted it.

"Turn your flashlight back on! Turn your flashlight back on!"

Then there was only silence.

Tricia stood shivering in fright, holding the flashlight at the outside corner of the largest dumpster as Karen worked on her knees inside the rectangular metal bin, scooping grit and dirt and pieces of concrete into plastic sandwich baggies she had brought from home. She planned to sort it out later. She kept catching herself as she was about to lean over too far, for it felt like her breasts would swing free from her bra. They never did, though. At least she was occupied enough to keep her mind and hands off of herself.

"Please, can we go now?" whined Tricia. "I don't want them to get us."

"Nothing's going to get us," Karen said. "And don't point the light AT me, point it at the ground IN FRONT of me."

The walkie talkie buzzed. "Umm, Graveyard Shift. We can't find your boyfriend anywhere, so... um... maybe you should head back out. So far the coast is clear, I think. No sign of gnomes. Or rats. Or whatever the fuck."

Karen ignored the walkie talkie and started filling another plastic baggie. Finally her jacket pockets were filled with rubble-laden baggies and she stood up, brushing the dirt from her pants. Tricia was fidgeting so badly that she almost dropped the light.

"C'mon, let's go, let's go!"

They reentered the corridor and Tricia shrieked and grabbed Karen tightly. "Oh my God! The elevator went up!"

"So what?" said Karen. "Those things move on their own."

"You've got a clear path to the stairs," said Mr. Dupree. "Wait a minute!" The girls stopped in their tracks. "There's someone in the lobby, I think. Is someone standing there?"

"I can't tell," said Frank. "Maybe."

Karen and Tricia made it back to the stairwell and started up the stairs slowly. "Turn the flashlight off and be very quiet," Karen said. Tricia was whimpering softly. Karen studied the walkie talkie until she found the off button and switched it off. They walked up the stairs at a snail's pace, one step at a time. Soon they made it to the first floor door. Karen was about to open it when Tricia pulled her arm back by the elbow. A very faint voice came from the other side of the door, and Karen realized it was Mr. Dupree's voice from the other walkie talkie.

"...crouching in the lobby corner near the other side of the stairwell door. I think, yes, it moved a bit! It must know you're coming up. Jesus Christ, it's not a rat and it's on the other side of the stairwell door!"

Karen pulled a frozen Tricia away from the door and started dragging her up the stairs to the second floor. At least the cheerleader was smaller than her, but still she was almost completely dead weight. They continued to the third floor, and then stopped. It had to be Greg down there, thought Karen. He's waiting to get these chips of concrete so he can turn me into a bimbo. She felt the bulges in her jacket pockets. Her mind raced. She had to stay in the building until she discovered which chips had bone in them, if any. As soon as she stepped outside, Mr. Dupree and Greg would grab them and that would put an end to her chances of returning to normal.

Tricia hugged Karen tightly, her tiny hands shaking. Karen stepped out into the third floor corridor and quickly rushed down the hallway toward the lobby, dragging the cheerleader behind her. They had to get to an office before Mr. Dupree spotted them on the security cameras and alerted Greg to their presence. If they were still watching Kenny Rogers that meant they could only see four locations at a time. She thought about Mr. Dupree's office. It would be perfect, and the gnome books were probably in there. "C'mon," she urged Tricia, pulling the girl past rows of leather chairs.

A loud beep from one of the elevators stopped them. They stood in the middle of the spiral tile patterned floor as an elevator descended from the sixth floor. Tricia collapsed in fear and Karen tried to pull her to her feet. Three of the plastic baggies dropped out of her coat and she cursed.

"Dammit, get up you stupid bitch! Someone's coming!" Tricia only started bawling in fear. Karen scooped up the baggies and decided to leave the cheerleader behind, but it was too late. The elevator doors opened. Tricia screeched in terror and then so did Karen.

Just inside the door stood a squat, green, goblin-like creature. Its wide upturned mouth held three mishapen green teeth. The knobby knuckles on its feet and outstretched claws were a coppery brown, and its skin was crusted with what looked like thick warts and barnacles.

Tricia fainted dead away.

Greg almost fell to the floor laughing as he pulled the gargoyle from the elevator. Karen realized he must have pried it loose from the roof. He had always wanted one of the building's ornate copper-plated waterspouts for his bedroom. She dropped the plastic bags in disgust and tried to wake up the prone cheerleader.

"Asshole," she said.

"Hey!" he yelled. "I'm not an asshole. I can't help it if I like big tits, okay? Most men do, you know. If you weren't so damn bitchy all the time I could help you shrink your tits, but you never want to listen to me. At first you say you like the big tits, it feels good, then you say you hate them. You won't take my calls, you insult me if I try to talk to you. You know, I wasn't the one who made you snort half a gallon of gnome bits. Goddamm! Ever since you got those tits you've been a bitch queen!"

"I'm not a bitch..." Karen sniffed back a tear. She didn't believe a word he was saying, but the volume of his yelling was making her eyes water. Greg pulled a wadded up tissue from his leather jacket and threw it at her. Then he renewed his efforts to drag the heavy gargoyle down the hall. It left a long deep scratch in the tiles in its wake.

"Where are you going?" Karen asked, her voice cracking.

"I've got what I came for. Got to get this son of a bitch to my truck without your boss seeing me," he grunted. "I'll go out the side."

Karen watched him struggle with the waterspout a bit more. "What about the gnomes?" she said. "What happened upstairs?"

"Beats me. That girl turned off the flashlight, started screaming, and then when I turned on the room lights she was gone." Greg turned a corner and pulled the waterspout out of sight.

Karen picked up the tissue and unfolded it. Slowly realization dawned, and her heart leapt. Inside, gluing the tissue together, was a dry mass of black crust. It was one of her old tissues. Why didn't I think of it before? she thought. I should have known to keep those tissues, not throw them away. All along I was sneezing up gnome bones! I can use this tissue to make my boobs normal again!

Inside Mr. Dupree's office on the sixth floor, Karen gently patted Tricia's cheeks until the girl started to regain consciousness. The cheerleader was lying on her back on Mr. Dupree's large desk, one breast rolled into her armpit beneath her thin white Washington High nylon cheerleading top. She snorted and opened her eyes.

"My head hurts," she murmurred. "Where are we? I thought that gnome was going to eat me."

"That wasn't a gnome," said Karen. "This is a gnome." She held one of Greg's library books, Catching Gnomes, over Tricia's head. The cover illustration depicted a carefree little man with pointed ears and a long white beard cartwheeling past a clump of toadstools. He seemed unaware that he was about to cartwheel onto a noose hidden in the grass.

"Oh, it's cute!" Tricia exclaimed, and sat up happily.

She watched as Karen used a letter opener to scrape the crust from the tissue into an empty plastic sandwich baggie. Karen was so excited she almost felt giddy. Finally, she thought, this nightmare will be over.

"The books say that the magic affects anyone who ingests the bones. But when it affected me, I didn't swallow any, I inhaled them. So I think the rules are kind of fuzzy." She twisted the baggie closed and then folded the plastic until it was a small ball surrounding a pinch of black dust. "If we're lucky, all we have to do is have this in our mouths for the magic to work. Then we can take it out again to turn off the curse."

Tricia looked down at her breasts and cupped them. "Oh, I can't wait!"

"Okay, I'm first," Karen said.

"I have to say the opposite of what we want, right?"

"I'll tell you exactly what to say. Say, 'Karen Richards' breasts are not back to normal.'" She turned away from Tricia and pushed the wadded up baggie into her mouth. She didn't feel any different, but she hoped the magic was working.

"Karen Richards..." said Tricia.

"Hurry, say it!" hissed Karen.

"Karen Richards... will not give me bigger boobs!" Tricia said quickly. Karen spat the baggie onto the floor.

"You dumb bitch!" Karen yelled. She turned around in anger. Hopefully she had gotten the baggie out of her mouth fast enough. Besides, there was no way she could give Tricia larger breasts, anyway, without using the magic. Tricia looked at her, a bit frightened at being yelled at.

"Sorry, I just want to make sure I get my bigger boobs," she said. She swung her bare legs innocently from the desk's edge.

Karen's anger cooled somewhat as she glanced at Tricia's chest. "You are so stupid," she said. "It's impossible for me to make your boobs any bigger than they are without using the magic. The only way would be if I sucked your nipples-" she clasped her hands to her mouth. If I sucked her nipples long enough, she'd start to lactate and her boobs would get a little bigger, she thought. No, it can't be! That's gross, I won't do it. But the strange thought wouldn't leave her head.

Already she was licking her lips. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could, in an attempt to squeeze the idea from her brain. I don't want to do it, I don't want to do it, she thought. I've got to fight it. But it was no use. Images of tiny pink nipples were dancing through her head. She did want to do it, and she wanted to do it more and more each second. She stepped closer to the brunette. What would warm, cheerleader milk taste like? She reached out and touched Tricia's chest.

"Hey, stop it!" Tricia yelped. She scrambled away from Karen, backwards across Mr. Dupree's desk. "What are you doing?"

Karen grabbed Tricia's chest and Tricia squirmed and elbowed Karen in her right breast as hard as she could. Karen shrieked in agony and fell to the floor. The pain was so intense that all thoughts about suckling at Tricia's chest evaporated instantly. She rolled around, groaning. Nothing was making the pain lesson.

Tricia ran to the other side of the room and picked up the baggie. She wiped Karen's saliva off with her sleeve and popped it into her mouth. "Okay, now say I don't have boobs as big as yours!"

Karen sat up, gingerly holding her right breast. It hurt so badly that her left one seemed to be throbbing with pain, too. As the searing ache slowly began to dissippate, Karen felt her desire to suckle returning. She imagined squeezing a swollen nipple between her lips, licking it with her tongue, feeling the warm milk spray into her mouth as it left the taunt, rounded breast. But she knew the desire was false; as much as she now wanted it, she hadn't ever before and it was only the magic working on her mind, making her think she wanted it. Maybe if I do give her bigger boobs using the magic it will go away, she thought. Maybe. In a way, the desire was so powerful, and milking the cheerleader promised such satisfaction, that she didn't want to give it up. But she forced herself to try.

Turning her head away from Tricia, she spoke. "You don't have boobs as big as mine." Slowly she turned around, and waited to see what would happen, hoping only halfheartedly that Tricia's growth would remove her new compulsion.

Tricia looked down at her chest eagerly. Her hands ran over the tight nylon of her cheerleading top. She gasped and opened her mouth to say something. Then she gasped again. "Oh I feel it!" she said. "I feel it!" The round mass of her breasts seemed suddenly pointed as two very indistinct bumps appeared in the center of the outline of her bra beneath the material. Karen's mouth watered at the sight of the cheerleader's growing nipples. She wondered how hard and big they had to be, to be pushing through Tricia's bra so forcefully. They actually looked like large lumpy marbles stuck between the swimsuit-like material of her top and her bra. Tricia passed her palms over them and let out a soft groan of pleasure.

"I just knew it felt good," she said. "I just knew it!"

Her chest pushed out slowly, and she pulled her shaking hands away to watch. The nipples became more and more distinct as the flesh behind them expanded. They were growing slowly, tightening her top. As they continued to enlarge, the bottoms of her breasts swelled and fattened, turning the nipples upwards and out of the bra, sharpening the twin points visible beneath the nylon. The bra was not functioning as a pair of cups; instead as Tricia's breasts reached the size of oranges it became a band of white pressed ever outward, visible beneath the stretching top. The bra's lace patterns seemed indented in the nylon.

"It's too tight," groaned Tricia. She tried to reach the clasps on her bra, but the cheerleading top was impossibly tight; there was no way she could get her hands between the back of her neck and the collar. She seemed to be hyperventilating as she twisted and turned in an attempt to somehow reduce the pressure from her growing boobs. She fleshy swell of her breasts was now pushing several inches past her bra, both above and below it. The white nylon stretched between the gap was so tight it was partly transparent.

"It hurts, they're too big!" Tricia grunted. "Make it stop!" Her hands tried to push her tits back, to move them out of the way of her imprisoning bra, but her attempts were in vain. Karen could only stare at the fleshy red areolae starting to appear as the stretching neckline was pulled lower and lower.

Suddenly there was a ripping sound as the stitches trailing down from the left armpit of the cheerleading outfit split. Tricia didn't seem to notice, as she was petting and sliding her hands along the taunt rounded fabric that extended so far from her body. Her breasts looked to be three quarters of the size of Karen's. Karen realized she was still rubbing herself. In fact, her bra was pulled up and she was excitedly and heavily fondling her own melons. She found the growth of Tricia oddly exciting, and her desire to suck the girl's breasts was not diminishing. She didn't care.

Tricia seemed almost to be in tears, the constricting bra was so tight. Her fingers found the flap of loose fabric at the torn seam and pulled her top apart. Karen's heart quickened as she saw the thick nipples revealed. Frantically Tricia clawed at the bra, now almost buried between two pale lumps of dough - the top and bottom halves of her breasts. She managed to slide it upwards, over her painfully erect nipples, and her tits bounced down to fall just above her navel. An angry red mark crossed them horizontally where the bra had pinched into the skin. The cheerleader sighed in relief. She looked down at her chest. Each breast was easily bigger than her head.

"I'm... huge," she said. She frowned, and moved to the desk, her giant tits wobbling. They continued to expand, but the growth was slowing. She gently settled them downward onto the oak surface and relaxed somewhat. "You didn't tell me they pulled so much!" she said. She felt her new unrestricted bosom for the first time and stifled a gasp at its sensitivity.

Karen crawled toward Tricia. She felt like a zombie, sliding on some sort of invisible conveyor belt toward those delicious, bubblegum pink, thumb-sized nipples. All she wanted was to feel those fleshy protuberances in her mouth, to stimulate them until Tricia's breasts were firm and full milk factories, no matter how long it took. She pulled the stunned cheerleader to the floor.

Karen gave Tricia her leather jacket, and made her zip it up all the way. If she couldn't see the cheerleader's huge nipples, maybe she could stay in control long enough to find a way out of this mess. Tricia was whining about her nipples being sore. Karen just wanted to get out of this humid office.

"Keep your hands off of your boobs," she said. "Even scratching an itch can cause you to... lose control." Looking down at her T-shirt she saw that her own nipples were chubbily halfway erect, and she tried to ignore them.

"Okay, give me the bones."

Tricia had a guilty look on her face. "Uh, I think I swallowed them," she said.

"What?" Karen screeched. "How in the fuck could you swallow a whole plastic baggie?"

"It was an accident," Tricia said, looking away. She fiddled with the flashlight.

"C'mon," said Karen, exasperated. She picked up the walkie talkie and the books and they left Mr. Dupree's office. The corridor was quiet. Karen thought she heard footsteps off in the distance, but it might have been her imagination. The two large-busted girls walked quickly toward the sixth floor elevator lobby.

"Do you think I can do my cheers with boobs this big?"

Karen glanced at Tricia. "No."

As they neared the glass double doors, she thought something looked odd about them. When the girls were ten feet away, they saw that the doors were blocked on the other side by several filing cabinets and two lobby chairs. Rushing to the doors, Karen pushed them against the blockage, to no avail. Someone had blocked their access to the sixth floor lobby.

"What's this?" Tricia said. She pulled a taped note from the glass and held it to the flashlight. The uneven handwriting made it look like it was written by a child.

     YOU WONT GET OUR GOLD HUMANS

"Oh my God!" said Tricia. "This wasn't written by rats!"

"No," Karen said. "It was written by an ASSHOLE!" The word echoed back through the west annex. "C'mon, we can take the stairs by the service elevator." She took a few steps and then froze as she realized something. If Greg - or someone else - blocked off the lobby, she thought, then they'd know we'd have to take either the stairs or the service elevator. She squinted into the darkness. The door to the stairwell was near the end of the hallway, barely lit by the Exit sign. Was it slightly ajar? She couldn't tell.

"Don't shine the light," Karen whispered to Tricia. "Can you see the door to the stairs? Is it open or closed?"

Tricia hugged Karen, who tried to ignore the soft fullness of the girl's immense new breasts pressing against hers. Even now she wanted to unzip Tricia from her jacket and fall upon the girl's breasts.

"Karen," Tricia murmurred. "Are gnomes good? Or bad?"

Karen flipped on the walkie talkie, then whispered into it.

"Mr. Dupree, Tricia and I are on the sixth floor of the west annex near the lobby doors, but they're blocked. We can't take the stairs or the elevator. Is there another way down?" She put her hand tightly over the walkie talkie's speaker, to try and muffle the volume. Still, Mr. Dupree's reply seemed amazingly loud.

"Shit, I'm glad to hear from you," he said. "I thought you two were goners. Hold on, let me wake Frank up."

The girls heard the soft click of a latch closing somewhere on the other end of the corridor. Shadows were everywhere. Karen still couldn't tell if the stairwell door was ajar or not. It's a hydraulic door, she thought. It can't be ajar on its own.

"Hurry up," she hissed into the walkie talkie.

"Where are you at again?"

"We're in the west annex on the sixth floor and we need to get the fuck out of here now! We can't take the stairs or the service elevator and the lobby doors are blocked."

"Let me find the code for the camera in that hallway..."

The girls looked up and saw the camera near the blocked doors, hanging limply from a few wires. "Don't bother," said Karen. Don't panic Karen, she thought. You're a night person, you can handle this.

"Hey kid," said Frank. "Go into the mail room. It's on the right if you're facing the lobby. There's an air duct that goes about fifteen feet to the lobby. Should be big enough to fit through. But watch out, there's a vertical shaft that goes all the way to the sub-basement. You fall into that, you're history."

Karen opened the mail room door and the girls entered the large room. Karen locked the door behind them and Tricia searched the walls with the flashlight. The duct was on the wall in the corner next to the door. Karen threw down the walkie talkie and grabbed one of the desks. She tried to push it into the corner, but it was too heavy. "Help me!" she hissed at Tricia. The cheerleader took the other side and, breasts wobbling like jelly, the girls see-sawed the desk over the thick carpet until it was in the corner. Tricia climbed on the desk and began pulling on the grill covering the duct.

She stopped and looked around, flustered. "Your jacket is making my boobs all sweaty."

Karen put her ear to the door and listened. She couldn't hear anything. "Check in my pockets, I think I have a quarter or a penny or something you can use to unscrew it." Tricia pulled a penny from Karen's jacket and began working on one of the screws. Karen moved to help her when all of a sudden two hands reached through the mail slot in the door and grabbed her!

Karen screamed, but then relaxed when she saw the hands were obviously feminine, and the dark skin and soft black forearm hair meant it had to be Niri. "Let me go you crazy bitch," Karen said as she struggled with the hands around her waist.

"Let me in, they're coming!" Niri said. "Unlock the door!" Her hands found Karen's breasts and squeezed them.

All thoughts left Karen's head as she felt the dark fingers on her chest. For a few seconds she could only stare, then her hands found the whispy hair on Niri's arms and began rubbing it softly as she moaned in pleasure, all ideas about escaping the Indian girl's grasp gone. Niri's hands went back to Karen's waist, but Karen lifted them and returned them to her boobs.

With the last screw removed from the metal grill, it clattered to the desk in front of Tricia and bounced onto the floor. "I've got the cover off, let's go!" said Tricia.

Karen heard the words, but didn't understand them. She helped the delicious hands fondle her large, soft melons through her T-shirt and bra. She needed to be touched. Then, to her delight, Niri's head poked through the swinging box drop door cut in the bottom of the door. She pulled her arms away from Karen's breasts and back through the mail slots. She began squeezing herself through the hole near the floor. It was a tight fit, even for the lithe Indian. Karen dropped to the carpet and began kissing Niri's long, graceful arms. Her lips caught the dark hair there, pulled on it gently.

Niri's wet lips were suddenly in view, and Karen licked at them eagerly. She hungrily mashed her lips to the other girl's spicy mouth. Suddenly, realization of what she was doing dawned on Karen, and she began to feel twinges of disgust. No, she thought, I want to make out, I want to! But she felt her mind clearing, what she was doing becoming extremely... gross! Quickly she grabbed at her breasts and pulled up her bra. Thumbing her nipples sent the pleasurable, erotic fog over her brain once more, and she bent over onto Niri's face and sucked at the dark-haired girl's tongue with mindless passion. Niri sputtered as she tried to push away Karen and climb the rest of the way through the small opening. Karen slid her hands into Niri's deep brown cleavage when it appeared, forcing her hands between the warm brown muffins and the tight, purple pushup bra.

Then she was yanked to her feet.

"Listen!" shouted Tricia, slapping Karen in the face. Karen started to cry, but her mind cleared and she heard a commotion of indistinct voices, grunts, and chattering on the other side of the door. Fear overtook her. The voices sounded strange, inhuman. Karen couldn't understand what they were saying, or even if it was English. Niri was halfway through the door, kicking her feet in the hallway and trying to pull herself the rest of the way into the mail room. Something seemed to be pulling her back.

"They've got me!" she cried.

Tricia pulled Karen roughly up onto the desk and the girls clambered into the ductwork, Tricia in the lead. She bumped her boobs on the opening and began groaning in pain.

"Keep going!" Karen said. Tricia's asscheeks and white panties were in her face, thanks to the sheer cheerleading miniskirt. Karen tried to ignore it. She pushed them with her shoulder, nudging Tricia forward until the girls reached the vertical shaft. Karen heard a sound from the mail room and saw Niri climbing into the airduct.

"Help me!" Niri said.

The vertical shaft was almost three feet across. Tricia stretched herself over the dark opening and then collapsed onto the other side, pulling her feet over quickly. She turned a corner in the shaft, crawling quickly away from Karen with the flashlight.

"Hey!" Karen screamed as she was left in darkness. Feeling with her hands, she found and crossed the shaft, then hurried around the corner to find Tricia kicking at the grill that was attached to the lobby wall. All kinds of rustling and scraping sounds came from around the corner they had just left. They could also hear Niri's screams. One corner of the grill detached, and the girls concentrated on another. Soon two corners were loose, and they kicked even harder to bend the metal and widen the opening.

One of Niri's hands grabbed the corner intersection and pulled her head into view. She was still obviously kicking her legs and striking out with her other hand. The girls gasped as a tiny pink hand grabbed Niri's nose and pulled on it. She caught the small wrist in her teeth and, growling, held it there as she struck out at the owner, unseen around the corner. The girls heard high-pitched yelps of pain. Oh my God, Karen thought. There really are gnomes still living here!

The opening was wide enough, so Tricia slid out feet first and on her stomach, exhaling painfully as she flattened then outright mashed her boobs just before she dropped to the lobby tiles, seven feet below. Immediately after, Karen repeated the manuever, with the same results. Both girls grasped their chests in pain.

Looking over, Karen saw tiny, indistinct humanoid figures in the west annex. They were only partly visible through the holes in the barricade. They seemed to be hopping one after another into the box drop hole in the mail room door. Up in the duct, Niri was now at the opening, still holding the tiny arm captive with her teeth, its owner just out of sight in the ductwork.

"Look," said Tricia. "She's going to let them come through and get us! We have to stop them! She's got gnome bones in her mouth, too. Say something about her, quick!"

Karen looked at Tricia in confusion, then ran to the elevator. She hit the down button repeatedly. The gnome chattering from the airduct was getting louder and louder.

Tricia turned away from the opening determinedly. "That girl has boobs big enough to block the tunnel," she said. "I mean, that girl DOESN'T have boobs big enough to block the tunnel!" She turned around just in time to see Niri drop from the opening. The Indian's sweater was torn in several places, her miniskirt was split, and her makeup was all over her face. She crawled for several feet then stood and ran toward the elevators in a panic. Tricia shrugged her shoulders and ran after her.

The elevator door opened and all three girls rushed inside. Karen pushed the first floor button quickly. The doors seemed to take minutes to decide to close. Just before the sixth floor vanished, the girls heard a chorus of chortling. Karen thought she saw a tiny bearded face with a pointed hat peek out of the duct opening, holding two tiny hands to its mouth with laughter.

Niri groaned in the elevator and rubbed at her chest absently. Half of her hair was out of her ponytail, hanging over her face. She brushed it aside, then looked down at her chest in surprise. Karen and Tricia could see her nipples clearly enlarging, pushing into the purple bra revealed beneath the torn sweater.

"What's happening to me?" she said, cupping herself. Then she let out a long, low moan as her bra visibly tightened. Karen felt a wetness on her chin, and realized her desire to suckle was back, and strong. She was drooling. She closed her eyes and tried to fight it, but Niri's moans only increased her awareness of the powerful need.

She turned to Tricia, who was standing with her back to the elevator doors, staring in fascination at Niri's growing chest. Karen unzipped the leather jacket. Tricia's breasts were wet with sweat and exertion, droplets running down between them to collect on the fine, almost invisible hairs of her flat stomach. Karen lapped at Tricia's sweaty, wide areola with her tongue, enjoying the salty taste before concentrating solely on the erect nipple in the center.

The elevator passed the third floor. Niri's chest now looked like two teardrop-shaped bowling balls. With every second they grew larger, fuller, and closer to the floor. The Indian girl was so caught up in the sensations her breasts created that all she could do was feel them and let out an occasional gasp or groan, her breathy words incomprehensible. Her fingers were rubbing her crotch, having pulled up the black miniskirt, but had to return to support her breasts, which were now painfully pendulous. The dark skin only lightened a shade as the clerk's chest grew. Her purple areolae widened to a foot across, the nipples in their centers looking like angry red fists. Niri couldn't even get her hands around the nubs, but soon the outward and downward growth pulled them away from her grasp completely.

Niri's breasts continued to grow as Karen sucked at Tricia. Only one thought was in the goth's head as her spiked hair was forcefully grasped by the mewling cheerleader: This is right, she thought. This is my purpose. Tricia's nipples were so wet with Karen's saliva that it was hard to keep them between her lips.

Niri's breasts became so heavy that her arms couldn't hold them, and she had to sink to the floor. They flattened out slightly on the dirty elevator tiles, like miniature beanbags of gelatin. Niri's eyes were glazed as her hands slowly swept back and forth over the enormous lumps of flesh protruding from her. The brown breasts were now easily larger than beachballs, and the left one began slowly but firmly pushing Karen into Tricia. Soon it was pushing the girls together so tightly that Karen was unable to suckle. Her legs were being crushed and her boobs were flattened against Tricia's crotch. I can't breathe, Karen thought. Oh my God I'm going to die!

Three sides of the elevator were completely covered with flesh when the carriage reached the first floor lobby. It opened and the high school girls fell outside, gasping for air. They regained their senses slowly.

The elevator doors tried to close, bouncing again and again against a dark red nipple that was itself bigger than one of Karen or Tricia's breasts.

Mr. Dupree ran out of the guardhouse when Karen and Tricia broke the glass on the front lobby doors. He was gasping and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. He following the girls to Karen's car.

"The magic," he said, staring at Tricia's bulging chest, poorly hidden behind the leather jacket. "You found it, didn't you?"

Karen turned to face him.

"I quit!" she yelled. "And fuck you!"

Tricia shrugged her shoulders at the executive and hurried to follow Karen.

The hot water cascaded over Karen.

Well, she thought, there's no doubt about it. I failed. I'm in even worse shape than I was before. Not only that, but I lost the bones, too. She felt like crying, but what was the use? Her life was over. She would no longer be taken seriously as an intelligent, gothic young woman. She would always be just another big-boobed bimbo in the eyes of those around her. She didn't even have a job anymore, and would have to babysit like her mother had wanted in the first place. Complete failure. The best she could hope for was to die in her sleep.

She yawned. It was 12:30 at night and all she wanted to do was finish her shower and go to bed. She didn't even try to wash her breasts, knowing full well what would happen if she did. It was bad enough trying to concentrate with hot water running down them. She shampooed her hair and, turning off the water, stepped out of the shower. She let her breasts air dry while she used the blow dryer on her hair, then pulled on a fresh pair of panties and slipped a clean T-shirt over her head.

Returning to her bedroom, she froze in the doorway. Tricia was standing by her bed, wearing a fluffy white robe over a T-shirt with a large black ace silkscreen pattern, and a pink pair of slippers with rabbit ears on them.

"Jesus Christ," Karen said. "How did you get in here?"

Tricia pulled a fold up reclining lawn chair from behind her and unfolded it beside Karen's bed.

"Ta-dah!" she giggled.

Karen felt her desire to suck the cheerleader's breasts returning, and almost screamed at Tricia before she realized that would wake her parents. "Get out of here!" she hissed, tears filling her eyes. "It's your fault I'm stuck like this, you stupid cheerleader bitch. You've ruined everything!"

Tricia sniffled. "But this is my present to you." She pulled the comforter off of Karen's bed and put it on the lawn chair. "I know it's not a deck chair, but my dad doesn't have a deck. I just have to give you something in return for these nice boobs... Even though you should have warned me about them pulling so much."

She turned off Karen's bedside lamp, then grabbed Karen and pulled her toward the lawn chair.

"No!" Karen said. "Let go of me! Get out of my house!"

But Tricia wouldn't take no for an answer, and, putting her arms around Karen's waist, sat backwards on the lawn chair, pulling Karen onto it, on top of her, until they both were lying on the chair. Karen struggled but couldn't free herself from the cheerleader's grasp. Tears were streaming from her eyes.

"You just fall asleep in my arms and it will be like your dream coming true," Tricia said. She removed one arm from Karen's waist and caressed the girl's frizzy unkempt white hair. Karen was crying and struggling, but she felt as if her energy was draining. Tricia made cooing sounds as she tried to comfort Karen. "No sex," she whispered. "Just like you wanted. We'll only sleep."

Karen felt her will caving, the struggle leaving her. In spite of herself, she was sooo tired and Tricia's robe felt nice and fluffy and warm. And to her surprise, even the desire to suckle was fading. At last she stopped fighting completely and found herself snuggling into the downy robe. She rested her head against the cheerleader's soft bosom and closed her eyes. To her surprise, she was smiling.

Greg stood on a ladder, at the window, watching the two girls. The full moon lit up Karen's bedroom. He had seen Karen happy many times before, but this was the first time she had ever seemed completely content and at peace with herself. He could imagine her kittenish snores, even if he couldn't hear them through the glass. As he watched her large breasts softly rise and fall, partly covering the tanned arm that tightly encircled her ribcage, he smiled to himself. Karen deserved to be happy.

He thought Tricia was asleep as well, but to his surprise, she opened her eyes and lifted her hand from Karen's hair. She reached into a pocket on the robe. She brought out what looked like a plastic baggie, held it in the moonlight for a minute, then returned it to the robe with a grin. Finally, she closed her eyes again. Karen squirmed slightly, turned, and pulled Tricia tightly to her.

A low thud started Greg and he looked over to see another ladder resting against the side of the house. Greg stared in amazement as Mr. Dupree clambered up to look into the window, too.

"Whoa!" he said as he saw the girls sleeping together on the foldout chair. "Guess I missed the big show."

The high school senior and the executive watched the girls in silence for several minutes, then Mr. Dupree cleared his throat.

"Say," he said. "You don't mind if I, uh..." He unzipped his pants.

Greg flinched away in disgust, lost his balance, and plummeted into the bushes below.