[Disclaimer- If under 18, there is a whole lot of better stuff out there to read. Go read Melville and Moby Dick. In fact, there are no Moby Dicks in this story. So, if under 18 please do not read it.]

All his life Ernie had felt neglected. He felt his demure size and lack of endowment made him less than a man and unequal to others. He saw his life passing him by, while he just spent hours and hours Online. He was never successful with women. Sure there was Sally, the boss down at work, but she was completely unreachable. Ernie knew women would never go out with him, so he didn't waste his time asking them.

He did have one soulmate though: his dog Ginger. She was a sweet dog, just a mutt really. But when he came home, she was first rate in his book. They went for long walks together, and greatly enjoyed each other's company.

One day, Ernie was walking to work. He heard faint cries for help coming from the pond in the park. He ignored them at first, but they wouldn't stop. Ernie looked for somebody else to answer the calls, but he was alone. 'Just like my life,' he thought to himself. He turned to leave, but the cries sounded desperate. Despite his urge not to get involved, Ernie investigated. At the center of the pond, an older woman was trying to keep her head above water. She was losing the battle.

"Are you alright?" yelled Ernie.

"HELP!!!" was the only response from the woman.

Thinking about his own safety, Ernie looked around for somebody else he could call to help her. Alas, he was still alone and the nearest call box was a good mile away. She would drown before he could summon someone else.

"You sure you need help?" yelled Ernie.

"Glup, glup," was all the woman could say now, as her head wasn't above water long enough for her to scream.

Part of Ernie suggested he could run away now, because she failed to specifically request help. Another part of Ernie reminded him that he was not Bill Clinton, and exact wording was not the issue. Besides, if he was Bill Clinton he would have a girlfriend. As Ernie became wrapped up in a mental argument on why Bill Clinton had more girls, he looked out across the pond. It was empty.

He said to himself, "Problem solved, she left. Gee, left her hat on the lake too and look how it is bubbling out in the center of the--Crap!" Ernie then dove into the water.

The pond was lovely that time of year: a wonderful 45 degrees Fahrenheit and so murky you couldn't see through it at all. He made his way out to where the bubbles were popping up and headed down. The pond was only about seven feet deep and the woman was rather large. He didn't have a problem grabbing her and shoving her to the surface. He did have a large problem struggling to get her ashore. Fortunately, Ernie remembered some basic swimming, and towing her by the collar, he made his way to land. When he reached shore, he discovered that she wasn't breathing.

"Well, this is going to be the most action I've had in the last year." Ernie thought to himself as he started CPR on the old hag.

Ernie had his mouth wide open and was starting to blow when the hag's arms reached around his back and pulled him close. His mouth was then invaded by her tongue.

"Ewww, gross!" yelled Ernie as he pulled back. Ernie started spitting on the ground and wiping his mouth.

"Honey, that was the most action I have gotten in the last year!" cackled the old hag.

"Man, I knew it. This whole thing is a scam or some kind of hidden camera show?" said Ernie, while he looked for the camera.

"No, I really was drowning. Witches can't swim; we just sink. I got to listening to the radio during my flight and...well, I'll be, if I didn't hit a power line. That caused me to do a full powerdive into that pond." Said the witch.

"Right. So, where's your broom?" asked Ernie.

"Like, duh, it's in the pond," said the witch.

"Sure, it is. Ok, so where's your shopping cart with the bottle of wine in it?" asked Ernie.

"I am not a crazy homeless person. I am a witch!" stated the witch.

"Sure you are. Ok, then I saved you, so I get three wishes right?" asked Ernie.

"I am a witch not a genie. How about I turn you into a newt?" she asked.

"How about Newt Gingrich?" said Ernie.

"Cute, real cute. Eat some flies. Asminoc Carmentor Righteous Stuff," said the witch, while pointing her hand at Ernie.

POOF

Ernie's life became a lot simpler. While the world seemed bigger, Ernie's only care at the moment was a large fly to his front. He reached forward--no, he opened his mouth. His tongue grabbed the fly and pulled it into his throat. Ernie let out a happy "Ribbit."

A cat walked up next to the witch and Ernie the enchanted frog.

"Beatrice, I am ashamed of you! He saved your life!" said the cat.

"I am a witch. Witches torment people. It's what I do. Besides, I didn't see you trying to help me in that pond," said the witch.

"How am I, as a three pound cat, suppose to extract your 180 pound body from that pond? I was lucky to survive that powerdive you put us through. Why don't you watch where you're flying?" said the cat.

"You don't like my flying? Next time you can walk! What's the use in having a familiar unless you can help me when I am in trouble?" said the witch.

"You might say, my job is spiritual advisor. Which brings me back to the frog over here. Unless you want to go all the way over to the dark side of things, you've got to reward that kid, not leave him a frog," said the cat.

"But, frogs are some of my best work. They are classic. They can be romantic too. Maybe I did him a favor. Does that count?" asked the witch.

"We must be too close to Washington D.C. What's with all this weaseling around facts? Are you saying he will turn into a handsome prince if a princess kisses him?" said the cat.

"Er...ah...Yeah, that's it, sure I am," said the witch.

"Accepting that as true answer, are there any princesses in North America?" asked the cat.

"Every father calls his daughter a princess," said the witch.

"I'll take that for a no. So, how does the potential of being a prince, while actually being a frog, constitute a reward? You know, Beatrice, there's been talk at the council that you are to be black listed. Or worse. They even talk of possibly sentencing you to become a pawn of old Beelzebub himself. A little stunt like this and could well wind up a handmaiden to him. And you know what he does with 180-pound, 120-year-old hand maidens?" said the cat.

"Yes, he turns them into beautiful, 20-year-old, buxom nymphomaniacs," said the witch.

"No, Beatrice. He leaves them as is and makes them give hand jobs to demons for eternity; hence the term hand-maidens," said the cat.

"You know, I was just kidding about this frog thing. I suppose I could give the kid a wish or some magical power. Come here froggie," said the witch as she reached down and picked up the frog. She gave Ernie a big kiss on his frog lips.

POOF

Ernie was Ernie again. He also had Beatrice's tongue halfway down his throat again.

"Ewww, gross. Stop doing that!" yelled Ernie as he pulled back. Ernie started spitting on the ground and wiping his mouth.

"Tell you what kid. I am very grateful for you saving my life. You got a penny?" asked the witch.

"Please, look, just let me go and I will be grateful. I don't want to be changed into something again," pleaded Ernie as he dropped to his knees.

"Whoa! Take a chill pill dude. You got a penny or not?" said the witch.

"Come on give her a penny," added the cat.

"Oh, great, a talking cat too. You're not a witch. I am just fucking crazy. Must have been some weird chemicals in that pond water I drank. You want a penny? Here, have a penny. Hell, take my whole wallet. You can use it to buy more booze for you and your talking cat," said Ernie as he stood back up.

"No, the penny is all," said the witch. She took the penny and said, "Penny so bright, gather the light, to this fool give one wish tonight." The penny glowed briefly. Then the witch put it back in Ernie's hand, "Tonight when the moon is full, hold the penny in the moonlight and make your wish."

Ernie held the penny in his hand and stared at it.

"Ok, Herbert, are you happy now?" said the witch.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I don't like being called Herbert? Just call me cat. Yes, that should square you. Now are we out of here or what?" asked the cat.

"Broom somewhere, come here before my stare," said the witch, causing the broom to rise from the lake and fly to her hands.

"Broom somewhere? Broom somewhere? You are getting a little lazy in your incantations," said the cat.

"You going to bitch or are you going to ride?" said the witch as she mounted the broom.

"Ernie, my man, don't screw up your wish." The cat then hopped on the broom and added, "Let's saddle up. We're burning daylight."

There was a blinding light and they were gone. All that was left behind were fading voices of, "Burning day light? You got to quit watching those John Wayne movies."

"At least it wasn't a lazy incan-" and all was quiet.

Ernie turned around and walked home. He was not going to go to work sopping wet. Besides, he had this incredibly foul taste in his mouth. He really wanted to brush his teeth. Ernie made his way home and was greeted at the door by Ginger.

"Oh, come to Daddy. Yea, that's a good girl," said Ernie as he petted Ginger on his way into the house. He smiled at Ginger and stroked her coat.

He went up stairs and stripped off his wet clothes. After calling in sick to work, he got into the bathtub. He soaked for sometime, thinking about the day's events. Time wore on and he fell asleep in the tub. A few hours later, Ernie awoke with a start. He got out of the tub and dried off.

"I look like a prune. I wish I wouldn't shrivel up like this...oh, crap, I just blew my wish!" exclaimed Ernie, but nothing happened.

"It was all just a dream. Wait, there's a heap of wet clothes on the floor. There in the pants pocket is that penny. What was that? Yea, I have to hold it in the moon light, and wish I guess," mumbled Ernie to himself.

Ernie spent the next few hours thinking about his wish. At first, he thought it wouldn't be worth the effort. But then he said to himself since it was only a few hours to moonrise why not give it a chance? So, he put his mind into his wish.

First, he turned to power. Power to rule the world. The all-powerful Ernie. Ha, ha, that was a good one. No, Ernie didn't want to rule the world. In fact, Ernie didn't want to bother with all the responsibility that power would bring.

Next Ernie thought about wealth. That was a possibility. He would keep that back in his mind.

Wait thought Ernie, if he could wish for anything, he could change himself. He could become Hercules--but, as he gave it more thought, if the penny doesn't work right or he messed up the wish, he could wind up as Xena instead. Oh, durn, he thought to himself. He remembered all the "Monkey's Paw" stories and how when he played Dungeons & Dragons the dungeon master always found a way to make the wish backfire. That witch had turned him into a frog! That was not very indicative that his wish would be taken as he meant it to be. He decided that he would be very careful with the penny.

Well, what to do then? It would be too dangerous to do anything to himself. If he did it on another, or an inanimate object, there would be a chance it might work out all right. Even if it didn't, it wasn't him anyway. That got him thinking about Sally at work. Sally, yes, Sally. A tall, beautiful blond with long, golden hair. A cute face with a turned up nose. She had deep blue eyes. He had overheard some women at work talking about how she wore a 34G bra. Well, that bra size didn't mean much to Ernie, but he knew her tits were huge, with what seemed like erect nipples all the time. She had a narrow waist and wide hips. She had a slim ass that complemented her long, slender legs nicely. Ernie could use the penny to make Sally his love slave! Yes! Oh man, sex all the time with a huge-knockered sexpot! Ernie was getting himself excited. Then he began to think. What if she really was made a slave by the penny? He could get arrested for violating the 13th amendment. The first guy in over 100 years to go to jail for having slaves. Well, maybe, he would hold this fantasy off.

Maybe he could turn the refrigerator into his love slave. Yea, then he bet she would be frigid! Ha!

While enmeshed in thought, Ginger came over with a ball for Ernie to throw.

"Not, now girl. No, wait! That's it! Go get it girl!" exclaimed Ernie as he threw the ball.

That was it! Ginger was in love with him! All he needed to do was turn her into the sexpot of his dreams and his woman problems would be over. Yea, that would do it. He just had to throw a little money in the wish and he would be good to go.

Ernie had come upon his strategy at the same time the moon had come up. He took Ginger and the penny out into the moonlight of the backyard. He held the penny in his palm as he opened it in the light of the moon.

"I wish, my dog Ginger was a beautiful human woman, 20 years old, with huge breasts and of human intelligence, but that she still retains all the feelings she has for me. And that I shall be rich," said Ernie.

The penny glowed and got white hot. Ernie dropped it to the ground. It expanded to a large glowing arch that engulfed Ginger.

Ginger started changing. Her fur receded except for the top of her head, and crotch where it took on a different texture. Her body began expanding. She looked at Ernie and whimpered. Her legs were growing; she collapsed in a heap on the ground. Her haunches changed into a butt as her hips spread wide apart. Her nipples became cherry red, and moved up her chest like fleas marching in a column. The bright redness stopped, and they merged into just two nipples. Her chest and shoulders were expanding. Her forelegs were taking on the shape of arms. Her snout receded into a nose. Soon she could be seen as a human female. She was growing larger and larger. She developed long shapely legs, her butt became rounded and pronounced behind her wide hips, her waist narrowed, her chest was slender but not bony, her shoulders well defined. She had long red hair that hung to her waist. Her face spoke perfection and she had two lovely brown eyes. Ginger was then able to stand. She was beautiful. Flat chested, but beautiful.

She started to speak, but then grasped at her chest. Her cute nipples were expanding. Then they budded out, soon followed by breast buds. Rapidly, two breasts were forming on her previously flat chest. They were now a perfect looking A cup, no B, no too fast to even estimate size as they rapidly grew to very large proportions. When they stopped, she had areolas easily four inches across, while her breasts hung down to the bottom of her rib cage. They were very full and soft. As Ginger moved, they had a delightful jiggle and sway to them with each breath.

Ernie was smiling. She was beautiful and her breasts were indeed huge. Ginger was staring down at her large breasts. Ernie was staring at the beautiful woman before him. There stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, naked, except for the dog collar still around her neck.

Ernie cried out, "Ginger!?"

She raised her eyes to him and a big smile came across her face. She ran to him, with her large breasts swaying and bouncing at each step. She leaped onto Ernie and placed her legs around his hips. She started licking his face, but her licks soon stopped and turned into kisses. Then their mouths opened and tongues started to entwine. They didn't get fully entwined, Ernie couldn't hold Ginger's weight and they went tumbling to the ground.

They lay on the ground together, still in an embrace. "Ginger is that really you?" asked Ernie.

"Yes, Rich it is me!" said Ginger.

"No, I am Ernie," said Ernie.

"No, you are Rich just like you wished," said Ginger.

"Crap, Figures," said Ernie. "Call me Ernie anyway, ok?"

"Anything you want Rich, I mean Ernie. Oh, I love you! Rub my nipples!" said Ginger as she lay on her back.

Ernie reached over and started rubbing the large nipples on Ginger's huge breasts. Ginger started kicking a leg while Ernie rubbed her nipples.

"Oh, that feels, so very good," moaned Ginger.

Ernie rolled over to hold Ginger and placed his leg between hers. Ginger immediately began to hump Ernie's leg.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Let's fuck. I like to fuck," said Ginger.

Ernie quickly mounted Ginger and started his rhythmic love making strokes. Ginger started howling. Ernie thought he was really a good lover.

Afterward they laid in each other's arms and spoke of their mutual love. Ernie took the next day off work, again. He spent the day getting Ginger some clothing. He found out she was 5'7", weighed 135 lbs and measured 46-26-38. Ernie also got to learn about the joys of custom underwear when he paid $60 for her custom 36J bra.

Ginger quickly adapted to being human. Ernie was satisfied he could leave her alone the next day and he could get back to work. Ernie was very disappointed when he came home that next evening and heard howling coming from his house.

"What the hell are you doing!" screamed Ernie as he found the gas meter man madly pumping away on top of Ginger.

"Oh, my God!...Look fella...She ran up to me, and said for me to rub her nipples! I did and then she just went wild. I didn't know she had someone," shouted the surprised meter man as he scrambled to get his clothes and fled the house.

"Ginger! How could you do this to me?" yelled Ernie.

Ginger got a very pouty look on her face and tried not to face Ernie. "I am sorry Rich, I mean Ernie. I like my nipples rubbed. Then we just fucked. I like to fuck. I love you Ernie," Ginger pleaded as she finally looked up at Ernie.

"You were bad Ginger! Bad girl! You only do that with me!" scolded Ernie.

Ginger bounced up and down, her huge breasts swaying with each movement. "Oh, you forgive me! I love you, I love you!" shouted Ginger as she ran toward Ernie. They met and proceeded to make love.

Latter that week Ernie came home and found the house had been torn to shreds. "Ginger, what is this?" asked Ernie.

"You left me alone too long. You need your stuffed ruined for leaving me alone! I want you here with me," said Ginger.

Ernie sighed. On the floor, he spied some receipts. He looked at them and quickly determined that every one of his credit cards had been maxed out that day. "What the hell, is this Ginger?!" said Ernie.

"You told me to look pretty for you. You said for me not to wear my dog collar anymore. I just bought things to be pretty. I like being pretty. I am a pretty girl!" said Ginger as she stamped her foot.

"But, this has obligated me to pay money I don't have! We can't afford it!" yelled Ernie.

"I don't care. You want me, you pay for me. I do good for you. You owe me a treat. I like treats. Shopping is a treat. No more fucking unless I get treats," said Ginger.

Ernie sat down in his chair and sighed.

Three months later Ernie (who everybody insisted was Rich) and Ginger were married. There was a lot of talk in the back of the church about how despite Ginger's good looks, she was such a vile person at times. There were others in the church that knew how Ginger henpecked and drove Ernie way into a debt he couldn't afford. A lot of people said the marriage was a bad idea. Others said it could never last. But, everyone agreed that Ernie wasn't the first man in America to marry a bitch.