The old cliche is true. People believe what they choose to believe. How else to explain the fact that, after that night, Lizzie's and Samantha's lives went on just as before? Well, maybe not quite just as before.
Lizzie was the kind of girl who would never give someone like Samantha the time of day under normal circumstances. All Lizzie cared about were boys, popularity, and cheerleading. She was, as she liked to say, "a blonde, and a natural one at that." Whenever anyone on the squad would grumble playfully that her big boobs were the real reason she was captain, Lizzie would stick her tongue out and shoot back, "No, I'm captain cause I'm more popular than you guys. And that's where my tits come in." A minor point to anyone else, perhaps, but the sort of detail that made all the difference to Lizzie. The football team had some say in choosing the captain of the cheerleaders, in practice. They always backed Lizzie. There was nothing whorish about it. Lizzie would've done'em anyway. Lizzie was the obvious choice to be captain. Lizzie was bright enough - just about - to know that everything good in her life was the product of what nature had given her. She had no problem with that. Life was good.
Math teachers, though, were not good. Math teachers could be a real pain in the ass. Normally math was a breeze for Lizzie. A short skirt, a tight sweater, and no work at all. Math teachers were the biggest geeks of all. God, whoever heard of a woman math teacher? She'd tried her usual routine for a few weeks anyway. You never know. But before long it was obvious that she was gonna have to do some kinda work to keep from failing math, which she needed to graduate. She really didn't give a shit whether she graduated or not. Gramma was loaded, tiding her over, and Lizzie was gonna marry a millionaire someday. But the girl who threw guys over for their brothers without a thought had one soft spot, and that was Gramma. Gramma had raised her since six and was all Lizzie had in the world. Gramma was a little out of it sometimes, but she wanted to see Lizzie get out of high school anyway. By May of her senior year it was looking like a long shot. That damn math class was the only real obstacle. Even trying was getting her nowhere. It was gonna be close. So she swallowed her pride and went to Samantha to get tutored.
Samantha needed the money. If all Lizzie had were her tits, all Samantha had was her brain. Sammie - she hated that! - was the smartest, flattest girl in school, a redhead... and actually her hair wasn't that bad, or wouldn't be if she'd do something with it. But it wasn't quite true to say Samantha only had her brain. She had her folks, at least. But Samantha's folks were real jerks, Lizzie found out when she popped over that first night to be tutored. Lizzie wore her cheerleading outfit over to Sammie's that night just to spiteful. She didn't like being tutored by this geek one bit and she was gonna throw all she had in Sammie's face the whole night. She was actually surprised that a girl who dressed as neat and dowdy - that was the best you could say about Sammie's clothes - had such a crummy house. Her father answered the door and gave her quite the looking over. Lizzie didn't mind at all. Sammie's mother came running out in a waitress uniform bitching about how she was gonna be late, and as Lizzie went up the stairs, Sammie's parents started fighting in a way that told her that it went on all the time. He was bitching about how he worked hard all day pushing girders around and deserved to go out at night. Obviously the thought of him in some bar half the night while she worked her ass off pissed off Sammie's mother, but his pointing out that she sat on that growing ass all day watching soaps didn't help. Anyway, they were going out for the evening. Lizzie didn't make much of it at the time; being alone in the house with Sammie was a matter of total indifference. Lizzie was straight, and Sammie was the queen of nerds. Okay, she felt a little sorry for her. But Sammie had a scholarship to a decent local college. She wasn't gonna be like her folks. Lizzie knew she wasn't the brightest bulb in the drawer, not that she cared with her tits, but she saw clear enough that that pole up Sammie's ass was as much from her shitty parents as from her flat chest and her brain. Well, Sammie had enough aces, so Lizzie couldn't feel sorry for her. Better lousy parents than no parents, anyway.
Lizzie knocked on Sammie's door and the nerd-girl opened it. Sammie had on the same sort of dowdy outfit she wore to school, a button-down sweater over a gray blouse and a long, unflattering skirt. Music was blaring from some dead composer, but when Lizzie mentioned that she'd seen the parents leaving, Sammie turned it off immediately. "How can anyone study with that shit bouncin' off the walls?" Lizzie whined.
"You wouldn't understand," Samantha said coldly. "Shall we begin? What course are you in anyway?"
"Uh, algebra something with Frumpy..."
"Algebra?" Samantha sighed. "Oh joy."
"Can't handle it, brain?"
"On the contrary, I foresee an evening of frustrating, monosyllabic prattle in the vain hope of turning an F into a D minus. What's the matter? Didn't the first row, lean-back, pink-panty-shots work on Mrs. Frumkin?"
"Look, just get on with it. I don't wanna be here anymore than you want me here." And the whole evening went on like that. Sammie didn't even make an effort to be nice. She was just a bitter, flat-chested hag who felt all this tutoring beneath her. Lizzie thought she oughta be a little nicer at least. She was forking out enough money. Samantha tried to keep her on the subject of mathematics, but Lizzie couldn't take that without breaks for very long, and she kept trying to divert her into small talk. Lizzie and Samantha had nothing in common. Samantha seemed to be up on real music but didn't have much interest in it. Same with all the right shows. She kept referring to her parents as "being addicted to pop culture enough for the three of us," whatever the hell that meant. The subject of boys was hopeless too. It very quickly became clear that Lizzie was really pent-up there. Every time that stupid quadratic formula came up again, Lizzie started thinking that if she could get Sammie laid, these tutoring sessions'd be a lot easier to take. But fat chance of that. Maybe if Lizzie asked one of the football team reeeaaally nice. But Sammie would never go for it, she realized. She was totally suspicious and resentful of everything in Lizzie's world. By midnight Lizzie just wanted to get out of there. God, this tutoring never ended! When were Sammie's parents gonna wander home and tell Lizzie to go the hell home already? Obviously not for hours. Lizzie kept telling herself that in five minutes she'd say that she really had to get going. But she knew she needed to get this to graduate. She thought of Gramma, who'd gone to bed before she'd even left. This was important to Gramma. So she kept propping open her eyes and trying again. The hour meant nothing to Lizzie. She was a night girl. Samantha was obviously frustrated enough to ring her neck, but Lizzie was paying by the hour. Lizzie kept a careful enough watch on the clock to know that the power went out just after twelve-thirty. Just the excuse she wanted. "Gotta go, Sammie. We can't work like this. Tomorrow night?"
"Samantha," she growled. "Yes, I suppose so."
"Unless you got a date or something..." Lizzie smirked.
"Tomorrow night," Samantha's voice replied icily. "Let's see now, six point five hours at twenty-two dollars an hour..." Lizzie just stuck her tongue out in the dark. Sammie couldn't see her. On a whim, she raised her sweater to flash her tits too. Then she handed over the money. "I'll help you find your way out," Samantha offered. "I don't want you bumping or grinding into anything."
The girls headed downstairs. Through the window, Lizzie saw a lit house in the distance. They were few and far between out here. "Shit, it's just your place!"
"Terrific. Fumbling with fuse-boxes in the dark."
"The door won't fucking open!" Lizzie spat. Samantha didn't seem to be listening. "Did you fucking hear me or what?"
"Shh... what's that low whine?"
"I don't hear nothing. Did your parents fucking lock this?"
Samantha ran over to the window and looked out to find the source of the growing mechanical whine. Lizzie heard it now and ran over to join her. "Right there," Samantha pointed. "See it?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Lizzie wondered.
"The stars. Look."
"I'm not a fucking astronom-..." Lizzie paused and gasped. She saw it. It was a starry night, but there was a whole starless area in the distance. "Shit, it's getting larger!"
"Coming closer... and with no lights!" The shape grew against the stars until it practically filled the window. Even the house-lights in the distance were blocked out. "Come on," she hissed, fumbling for Lizzie's hand and pulling her into the kitchen. "This one's stuck too!"
"What the fuck is going on?" Lizzie shrieked. The mechanical noise was loud now, but it wasn't like a helicopter or airplane. She looked out the kitchen window. Suddenly, a blinding light came out of the bottom of the black shape and enveloped the house, and Lizzie fainted.
Lizzie came to gradually, and found she couldn't move. At first couldn't figure out why, being still groggy. Where the hell was she? There was an eerie green light filling the room, and a kind of low hum. She wasn't standing on anything! She tried to struggle about with her feet, but found them bound. She was covered in some kind of cellophane from head to toe, all bound together and wrapped up. The stuff was all tight on her, showing off every curve of her body. Her clothes were gone! Shit, that cheerleading outfit cost... What the fuck was she saying? What the fuck was going on? She struggled about and flayed in mid-air a little. Finally she began to come to her senses and look around.
The whole room was totally unearthly, bathed in green light and filled with things that looked like a cross between machines and really gross living things. What was that moving? Oh, god, it looked like... it was a little gray guy with big black bulging eyes, that corny cliche type of alien from every stupid geek show. It said something in a language that didn't sound remotely human, but somehow she heard the words in her mind. "The other one is finally awake now too." Lizzie took her eyes off the alien at the control panel and looked around her.
She couldn't really move her head, but she saw to her left what looked like something wrapped in plastic and miraculously suspended in mid-air. Oh, god, she realized. It's alive! But it wasn't small and gray like the alien fuckers nor slimy like the machinery. Through the clear plastic, Lizzie could see that it was pink. And looking right at her! Lizzie was slow on the uptake, but when it finally made a mmmph noise she realized what it was. God, it was Samantha! Hung in mid-air with no real support at all, except a thin tube hanging loosely from the ceiling and ending in a kind of hard plastic that covered her nose and mouth. Lizzie had one over hers too. That was how she was breathing, though she was wrapped up from head to toe. The cellophane stuff was wrapped totally tight around her body - it pinched a bit in places she was proud of - and so she could see clearly through the stuff. Samantha struggled and flayed a bit in mid-air, but it didn't accomplish anything except to make her look foolish. Stupid geek, Lizzie thought. Even with all her brains, she's no better off than me. Lizzie could tell from the way Samantha was flailing that she was terrified. Lizzie was scared senseless too. God, what was going on? What was happening to them? They were in a U.F.O.! They'd been abducted! God, all that corny stuff really did happen! But... they always brought the people back, right? Of course they did. She was gonna be all right. She was more worried about what they were gonna do to her. Samantha struggled like a girl with a lot more to lose than Lizzie, which was probably true. But this wrapping was gonna make that awful hard. Sheesh, you'd think a brain like that would figure that much out! Lizzie tore at the stuff, but it wouldn't break. It was a lot tougher than cellophane, whatever it was. Her arms were stuck together behind her back, her legs wrapped together dangling below her. Samantha was in the same position. Whatever these guys had in mind, it wasn't what Sammie was afraid of.
In moments, a hole in the wall opened up like magic and a bunch of new little aliens, all exactly the same, came running in. They stared at the two girls with total intrigue and then began chattering away all at once. Lizzie couldn't focus on any one of them and missed it all, like crowd noise. Obviously they didn't have that problem. Finally, two or three of them went to the controls and began turning gooey-looking dials as the others all stood watching. A brighter light switched on right above Lizzie's head, like a spotlight. She saw one go on over Samantha at the same moment. And then they pushed some more controls and a loud humming noise filled the room.
The aliens stared at them with rapt attention, except for one at the controls who kept adjusting dials furiously. What was happening? Obviously something was supposed to happen. Lizzie didn't understand at first what was so damn interesting. Mebbie they were just kind of scanning her. No, most were more interested in her and Samantha than any readouts. Lizzie still didn't get it, but it was a little easier to move. This stuff wasn't so tight on her. It wasn't pinching her hips as much and didn't hurt her boobs anymore. They were releasing it. At least the little pricks were trying to make her comfortable. Only by the way Sammie was struggling, it seemed to be having the opposite effect on her. She gave out muffled moans like the plastic was getting tighter. Lizzie saw it actually tighten a bit on her in places. As it tightened, Lizzie remarked to herself that with those dowdy clothes off, Sammie's figure was actually a little better than they gave her credit for. She wasn't half the stick-insect she'd looked like. Her long skirts did nothing to show off those hips. As for her chest, it wasn't really that bad after all. Lizzie still wasn't getting it until she heard the word "Faster!" in her mind, and the alien at the controls jiggled the dials. Then she could actually see the effect before her eyes. Sammie's boobs blew up to fabulous proportions. Why they were almost as good as -
Lizzie let out a muffled shriek and struggled like crazy. No, no! They couldn't do this! Her own tits were deflating as Sammie's got bigger! These fucking aliens were giving her Lizzie's boobs! "No! No! Stop it!" she wanted to scream. "You can't do this!" Somehow the aliens heard her... but they ignored her. And made a noise that sounded like chuckling.
The cellophane was growing tighter again, even as Samantha began to relax a bit. It was hard to get a good look, but Lizzie's heart fell as it sunk in what'd happened. Samantha was stacked now. Her boobs were every bit as good as Lizzie's had been... and her own chest looked like a flatland. This wasn't fair. It really wasn't. Lizzie just tried to close her eyes, but she couldn't even do that, the cellophane was so tight on her face. She just wanted this hideous experiment over, and her boobs back. They were gonna put it all back, right? Lizzie would have heard about stories like this. They were just fucking around, but it'd all be all right in the end. The aliens weren't even looking at her anymore, only Samantha. And then the smell of the stuff coming into her nostrils became kinda funny, and she blacked out.
Lizzie came to on the road not far from Samantha's house. She was back in her cheerleader outfit, and her math book and purse were lying in the grass not far away. She'd just blacked out on the way to Sammie's house. Of course. She thrust her hands to her chest and screamed. "Oh, God, no! This can't be happening!"
She ran all the way home and up to her room, stripping down to her bra and undies and looking into her full length mirror. The bra was useless. The fucking gray little bastards had a sense of humor by putting it back on her at all. Her hips didn't look as good as they had either. "Oh, God, no..." she sobbed. "No, anything but that..." Why couldn't they have struck her deaf? Even blind! Anything but her boobs! She began hyperventilating and finally passed out again.
It was seven-thirty when her alarm went off and she found herself on the floor. She didn't think clearly at first - just wondered how much she'd had to drink and ran to her underwear drawer to pick out what to wear for today. Then she hopped into the shower, and as the water woke her up and she began to lather, she remembered. Her life was over. How was she ever gonna even explain this? What could she do, run to the police and have Sammie arrested for stealing her boobs? Not likely. They'd call the whole thing preposterous.
Lizzie dried herself and returned to her room. There was no point in even wearing a fucking bra. Even her sweaters were gonna look ridiculous. She dressed in a usual sweater and short-skirt combo and looked in her mirror. Even dressed, the hips were obvious. The sweater was a joke, just hanging on her. She couldn't go to school like this today. She just couldn't. She told Gramma that she was sick and was staying home. This wasn't one of Gramma's better days. She didn't seem to notice anything and there was no point in bringing it to her attention. Well, it was Friday, anyway. She'd just hole up in here all weekend and take three days to figure out how she was gonna deal with this.
She just laid back on her bed and stared at the ceiling for a couple hours. Finally she got hungry and went downstairs for some breakfast. When she came back she saw the mathbook. There was no avoiding it. Boobs or no boobs, she still had to pass that course. She might as well take her mind off it with something that would more than occupy it. She might not be able to fill a sweater anymore, but she could fill her head with this gobbleygook.
Even after six point five hours of studying, as she mocked Samantha, it didn't make much more sense than it had. She told herself that it was cause Samantha was a lousy tutor. Certainly the whole evening was vivid enough... including that unbelievable bit. She'd need to brush her hair to fully recover it from that experience. At least they'd left that alone. God, this math stuff was still awful, but the realization began to creep into her consciousness that if she had any brains at all, it was high time she began trying to use them. She'd never be a math whiz, but she was gonna need to learn how to start thinking. She'd always completely gotten by on her boobs. It was either start trying to use her brain or kill herself... and she couldn't do that to Gramma. She started at the beginning of the math book and spent the whole day going forward. Cindy called at four, but Lizzie just said she wasn't feeling well. Cindy asked if she'd be all right by Monday. It was a good question.
Friday turned into Saturday. She only put the book down when she got really tired, and about one o'clock she went to sleep. Saturday morning Gramma was better, but she still didn't notice anything, or was afraid to mention it for fear that Lizzie would call her senile. They ate breakfast together and then Lizzie returned to the mathbook. She was going to focus all her energies on pasing that course; it was a way of not dealing with her boobs anyway. Actually, this stuff wasn't so bad when she really put her mind to it. Kinda elegant. With time out for a couple meals, Saturday turned into Sunday, and by Sunday afternoon she was convinced that she could pass the next test at least. Pass, who was she kidding? She could ace it. This stuff wasn't so bad as she'd made it out to be. She should have put some work in a long time ago. Then she wouldn't have been at Sammie's house when...
It was Sunday night when it finally struck her. She ran down to the basement and found a whole lot of wire left over from some project of Gramma's. She could make a bust for herself! Okay, the hands-off stuff would take some explaining, but she could look normal at least. She spent the whole evening forming the wire into decent replicas of her old boobs. This was another talent she'd never realized she had. Maybe she should be a sculptor! But really, when you thought about it, it was all math. She just had to get the curves right, and she used her bra to model the shape. In the end they were perfect and she popped them on. Oo, cold against her skin. Well... with the bra and the sweater they looked all right... but who was she kidding? The first time a guy grabbed'em her face would burn off with embarrassment. She mushed the wire back down into a mess in a fit of rage.
There was nothing to do but face the school tomorrow.
Guys were looking at her strangely even as soon as she shuffled out of her car. No one knew quite what to make of her. Cindy ran over and blurted out, "Lizzie, you'll NEVER guess who got a boob job over the weekend -" She stopped with a shriek. "You got a breast reduction! Are you out of your fucking mind?"
There was nothing to do but fall in with it. No way in hell could Lizzie believe that an operation like that could take a day or two, but there was no arguing with the obvious, she supposed. "Maybe I was tired of being treated like a joke," she replied. She nearly choked on the words. She'd give her legs to be treated like she used to be. But the words came out quickly enough. It wasn't so hard using your mind when you got into the habit. Cindy just looked at her funny and muttered something about how the squad was gonna freak... not to mention the team.
"Anyway, lookit that," Cindy giggled. "Funny that, two boob jobs the same weekend..." They passed by Samantha, who was posing at her locker for the boys surrounding her.
"No, they're real," Samantha giggled, taking a boy's hand and pulling it up under her sweater. Obviously Samantha had spent the weekend shopping. Lizzie didn't want to think about anything but the math class, but she found her thoughts wandering to the dazed and disappointed looks she was getting from boys.
The next two months dragged for Lizzie. Her teachers couldn't believe the improvement, but her social life was dead. Even Cindy wasn't too interested in her anymore, though she said it was because she couldn't take Lizzie's attitude anymore. It was true that Lizzie was not being a good sport about the loss of her fabulous chest. Samantha, on the other hand, seemed to be in her glory. Except for one day after school when Lizzie stopped by the math office to see about some extra credit and she heard Samantha inside screaming at the calc teacher. "I don't wanna fucking hear it! I've already been accepted into the school I want! You give me the fucking F and see if I care! I had straight A's and I'll pass the course! Mebbie I won't even bothering taking your fucking final!" And she stormed out. Samantha now dressed pretty much like Lizzie always had. It was when she saw Samantha storming out, dressed like a whore, that Lizzie decided it was time she stopped pretending. She went out that afternoon and bought some sensible clothes.
It wasn't like Lizzie had anything else to do with her life, so she spent all her free time studying. No one even much spoke to her anymore except teachers. She figured that people just didn't want to deal with why she'd supposedly done what she'd done. Guys hated her for "the operation" and took it as a slap in the face. Girls told her she was no fun at all anymore. She really was a wet blanket, she knew. Even when she aced her finals she had to wonder what the point of it was. She could hardly go on to college with her record. She wasn't college material anyway. Sure, she'd aced her courses, but they were moron courses.
Gramma was very well off, so Lizzie took the next few months off and did nothing but study. Somehow she was going to get into college. She was a whiz at math, but she found she preferred science as the months passed. Maybe it was the desperate longing to understand what'd happened to her that fateful night. She took various entrance exams and got accepted into the local college in January. None of her old friends would have recognized Liz. Samantha did, and she was obviously embarrassed that Liz had followed her to this college. Sammie was doing pretty well for herself in college after only one semester. All right, so she wasn't captain of the cheerleading squad... but she was only a freshman. She was lucky to have gotten on at all. Out of perverse curiosity, Liz did some checking up and found out that Samantha had switched her major from mathematics to psychology. The psych courses here were a joke, just where all the popular guys and girls hung out. That burned Liz, infuriated her as she hadn't been in months. Samantha had that fabulous brain that brought everything easily - whereas Liz had had to work so hard - and she chose to throw it away. And she always acted like a fucking moron these days too. It was all an act, of course. Samantha had turned her precision brain, Liz deduced, to the realization that playing the airhead was the course to popularity. It wasn't until April that she found out how lousy Samantha's grades were; hacking into the system was child's play. "Sammie", as she insisted upon being called now, was in serious danger of flunking out.
Liz took no pleasure in that. She'd worked too hard to get where she was. Samantha was atrophying that brain that Liz would kill to have. It infuriated her that Samantha could still, if she chose, ace all the tests that Liz struggled so hard to stay on top of. College was damn hard work, especially the honors courses Liz was taking. What infuriated her most of all, though she rarely admitted it to herself, was that she understood it completely. Liz would give up all she'd accomplished in the last year just to have those breasts back.
Liz took courses all summer, and in the fall Samantha was nowhere to be found. At least, Liz didn't see her at first. Liz didn't socialize much; she simply hacked in and checked the school records. One day she went to the restaurant across from the college and found "Sammie" working there as a waitress. She giggled with her friends from college and never seemed to do much work. A few snippets of overheard conversation revealed that Samantha had flunked out but, unable to part with her college chums, had gotten a job here to be close to them. She flirted with all the rich guys especially. Though Liz was on the fast track to a career in a medical laboratory somewhere, it pissed her off that Samantha had stolen her life and aspirations. They might look pretty silly to Liz now, but they'd once been all she'd dreamed of, all she'd been. Samantha had stolen her identity. She couldn't blame the aliens. "Sammie" still had the brains if she cared to use them. She took to going into the restuarant every day, just because it made Samantha uncomfortable. The service was lousy, but Liz was working herself up into a nice obsession. She'd stare for an hour or two - the service was terrible - at HER boobs bouncing on the lap of some preppy and only think how far she could get in this world if she still had her birthright. That the loss of her breasts had caused her to find other talents she'd hadn't known she'd had meant nothing to Liz. They were still HER boobs. The best research job in the world meant nothing. She had no real friends, no chance of any boyfriend... She hated her life. And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.
It was her biology teacher who insisted that she go to the conference in Boston, and she decided to fly because she'd have to be around people for the shortest time. She wasn't in a good mood in the first place at the thought of a whole weekend of socializing, even with intelligent people. She still felt like a phony among them. But the buzzing of the security system really set her off, and after they'd demanded she step through for the THIRD time, she finally roared, "What the hell is wrong with that thing?" They never did get her through it, and finally they decided that it was an aberration. In her hotel room in Boston, she stripped down and stared at herself in the mirror for the first time since it'd all happened. She still refused to watch those geeky shows, but they were all the students in her classes talked about. And that was how she got the idea. She rigged up a similar device and scanned her body. It beeped when she ran it over her waist on the left side. She decided to get an x-ray, and the doctors gasped when they realized that there was a tiny piece of metal embedded under her skin. They assumed it was a fragment of some sort, and she ducked out before they could talk about removing it.
After returning home from the conference, she studed the x-ray, blowing it up and analyzing the device. She was beginning to understand. It was elementary stuff really. It was a receptor of some kind. She could see where electromagnetic radiation - probably of a certain frequency - was designed to activate a tiny receiver embedded in the electronics. She dug at it, gritting her teeth and creating a hole in her side. She didn't have the aliens' resources, but if she ran a wire into that port there, she could... Oh, my God!
Samantha still technically lived at home, but she rarely slept there. So it took a few nights to put her plan into action. Working out the electronics only took a few hours, but waiting outside Samantha's house every night to see if she'd come home was harder. Her parents were less of a problem. They were almost never home at night. Finally, "Sammie" returned one night around midnight, but she and her date fucked in the backseat before he finally took off and she skipped inside. Liz saw her light go off within a few minutes, and she waited another hour before picking the lock and sneaking in.
She had chloroform to make certain that "Sammie" didn't wake up, but she paused before applying it to the sleeping girl with the fabulous breasts. "Wake up!" Liz roared.
"Huh?" Sammie gurgled. She looked up and saw Liz's enraged face. "Hey, whatt're you doing here? Get out!"
"You had it all, bitch, and you threw it away to play stupid! Brains and tits, while I struggle to understand anything at all! You fucking WASTED it all! If you had the foggiest fucking idea what I'm gonna do, you'd thank me! Maybe you'll finally start using that brain of yours again and stop playing the airhead!"
"I don't understand..." Sammie whined. "Look, I'm sorry, but I didn't do this. It was the aliens! Somehow they gave me your boobs -"
"It's just you and me here," Liz growled. "Stop playing the fool. You're bright enough to know that they simply applied an inverse bio-agent bi-metabolizier. No actual tissue exchange took place and you fucking know it!"
"What is all that fucking gobbleygook?" Sammie spat. "Stop pretending you know what they did! It was some kinda alien science stuff. And these're mine now! You can't undo it!"
Liz sighed. "Okay. Maybe if I use 'frustrating, monosyllabic prattle.' Basically, metabolizing at non-biologic rates requires tremendous amounts of energy. With me so far? In order to grow your breasts at humanly unfeasible rates, they had to generate a corelative amount of de-growth to fuel the process."
"You're making all that up!" Sammie gurgled. "Go away or I'll call the police!"
"You are NOT this fucking stupid!" Liz roared. "You got A's in calculus!"
"Aw, who needed'em, anyway? You're nerd enough for both of us now. Don't tell me you didn't choose to be like that!"
"It was all you left me, bitch, but that'll change soon enough." She jumped onto the bed and forced Samantha onto her back, then readied the chloroform.
"Get offa me! Don't you dare!" Sammie shrieked. "I'll call the police! I'll call the fuck... ing..." And her voice drifted off. She was under. She'd be under for an hour at least. Long enough to do what had to be done. She began digging furiously into Samantha's side to uncover the identical electronic device embedded in her, and then she pulled out the simple electronic transfer-module she'd constructed. It was a simple electromagnetic energy exchanger. The modules embedded in the girls really did all the heavy scientific work, the stuff still way beyond her. She wiped the blood and there wasn't anymore, due to the healing effect of the implants. She uncovered her own implant and had to do a little fresh digging. Finally she attached the end of a bare wire to the exposed port in Samantha's implant, and a wire coming out of the other side of her device to her own implant.
Liz pulled up Samantha's silk nightgown and then took her own top off. She never wore a bra, of course. Then she cranked up the dial on her exchanger as far as it'd go, and watched as Samantha's beautiful chest deflated before her eyes and her own blossomed out again. She had her boobs back - her beautiful tits! The sleeping girl's chest deflated to its former near-flatness, a flatness Liz knew so well, and Liz felt herself up again after far, far too long. "I've missed you, guys. I promise you we'll never part again!"
She stared at the sleeping Samantha and wondered about the consequences. She couldn't go to the police. How would she ever explain? "They'd lock you up!" Lizzie giggled out loud. And as she stared at those miniscule boobs and thought about all Sammie had put'er through, one thought kept bouncing around in her mind. "Why not?"
She knew that the gizmo ought to work asympto... asy... She was too tired and too ecstatic. Well, that she could keep going for a bit cause the de-growth of the last bit gave off more energy-stuff than de-growing full tits. Slowly even what nature'd given Sammie began to deflate and Lizzie's own knockers got bigger and bigger! She giggled as she felt up her lovely melons! Aw, no more? Sammie was flat, flat, flat! Lizzie jumped up, pulling the connections apart in the process, and began jumping around the room giggling. Her titties were perfect! Not just big but nice and round and all perfect! And these hips! She stripped down and showed herself off in Sammie's mirror. "I am perfect!" she giggled and giggled. "It just don't get no better!" She was getting horny just from the thought. She reached down into those private places, eyes forever on the mirror. She heard Sammie getting up but didn't care. She was almost... oh... OH!
Samantha was just staring at her, all mean and icy just like way back on that night with the aljibbera. She didn't care. She had her boobies! "They're mine!" she hissed. "You can't have'em! You can't!"
"Keep them," came Samantha's voice. She left the room, and Lizzie went back to playing with herself. She was still doing it and feeling herself up and staring at her boobies when the two men came. They tried to stay all gloomy-gus but she obviously made'em horny! Sammie was asking something about sampling the merchandise. Lizzie didn't know what that meant exactly, but she was dying to do those guys! Only they tried to pretend they didn't want to, and finally one of 'em picked her up and carried her out. Cool! Lizzie saw the other one giving Sammie a great big wad of money. Lizzie was sure worth a lot with her new boobies! They put her in a car and drove forever and ever, but it was all right cause they didn't care if she played with herself. They didn't even make her cover her boobies which was great! Then she was on a plane and they made her wear a blindfold which wasn't so much fun cause she couldn't see herself and when were they ever gonna get there cause this was boring, boring, boring! Then they were in a car again and they let her see and gee those oil wells are kinda sexy when you think about it but at least she could see her boobies again. The pink harem thing they made her wear was pretty much see through but that was great. The guys weren't really all that cute but she didn't care cause they were guys anyway and they kept her really really busy. God, Lizzie's life was great!
Next: Kim's Story and part three... Samantha's Story
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