Growing Into Herself

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Chapter 17

Caitlin wasn’t positive exactly where the euphoria she fell asleep with had come from, and most importantly, where it had gone. All she knew now was she felt like utter shit. Her clothes constricted her at more places than she could count, her back ached from falling asleep in an awkward position, and her feet had gone completely numb from being cramped into a pair of uncomfortable boots for far too long. She felt ill from what she recalled must have been six or seven pounds of cafeteria pizza, which was not sitting well. To top it all off, she was damned big. Huge. Gigantic.

The couch she more wrapped around than laid on groaned and creaked as she shifted about. She had no idea how tall she was at this point, but whatever the number, this couch was not designed for it. She tried to do the math in her head, but the only figures she had to work with were 'taller than six foot six,' 'not big enough to destroy my clothes,' 'too big for this couch,' and 'I can’t feel my damned feet.' She grunted, fighting her undersized wardrobe as she tried to both sit up and stretch at the same time. Underestimating the size of the couch in relation to her body and caught off guard by the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric from seams around her shoulders, she flopped forward, pushing the couch back, bashing her elbow on a table and making a general ruckus.

"Hey She-Hulk, keep it down. We’re making art over here."

Had the voice belonged to anyone else, Caitlin would have panicked. Instead, she sighed. Why does it have to be her?

"Give the girl a break," a familiar male voice broke in. "Hey! You okay?"

And him?

Caitlin didn’t move, only managing to mutter, "Uh…yeah."

From her seated position, Caitlin peeked over the couch, doing her best to ignore the dread of actually being tall enough to see over the couch while seated on the floor. Sure enough, Nicole Ryder and her boyfriend Tristan stood above a large canvas spread on the ground. Tristan had paint on his hair, face, knees, and feet, while Nicole was generally covered in paint and naked from the waist down with her foot in a bucket. Neither of the two seemed particularly distraught at their appearance, nor at Caitlin’s hyper-grown state. Nicole rolled her eyes and returned to her work.

"So anyways, I’m thinking we'll call this corner ‘persuasion’ and the opposite corner 'shallowness.'"

"I thought that corner was 'elephant.'"

"No! That corner is ‘shallowness’ and the blob right there is 'elephant.'"

"I’m confused."

"I’ll make it more clear. Pass me the yellow paint."

"I’m going to check on Caitlin," Tristan said, running his hand through his paint-splattered hair.

"Pass the yellow paint!" Nicole replied, stamping her foot and pouting.

"Your foot is in it."

Nicole giggled uncharacteristically before dropping to her knees and pressing her face to the canvas. Tristan shook his head smiling and headed over to Caitlin. Caitlin was not sure what to make of this development and could not figure out what to do with herself as he approached. She imagined she would officially be "villagers-chasing-with-torches" sized if she could look him in the eyes while seated. As he walked closer, she couldn’t help but notice Tristan was around six feet tall and he looked kind of short. Then again, she thought, he’s probably closer to six foot than I am. I’m probably closer to…

"Nicole told me you’d been growing. I thought it was a metaphor or something."

"It is, just not hers."

"Hm. Do you need help?"

Caitlin paused to turn over the question in her head. She was seated on the floor in undersized, skintight, shredded clothing, tall enough to break her nose on door frames, and had probably failed at least three of her finals. "Sure. What do you want to tackle first?"

Tristan scanned her up and down, pausing briefly at the outline of an undersized bra clearly visible through her t-shirt. The girl in front of him was truly a disaster, which said a lot considering the drug-induced mania his own girlfriend was in. He eventually set his sights on a pair of black boots so tight the pleather had took on the shape of her toes.

"You might need a knife to get out of those boots."

"Oh yeah. I forgot. My feet are numb."


Tristan produced a craft knife from his pocket and set to carefully slicing through the boots. The dull knife slowed his progress, so he would have to take his time. He made small talk.

"I know someone who’s been asking about you."

Caitlin played stupid. "I can’t imagine who you’d be talking about."

"I’ll give you a hint; she has a lot of tattoos and is barely as tall as your bellybutton."


Tristan laughed softly. "No, no. That one’s mine."

Caitlin peered over at Nicole again, who was rolling about in ecstasy on her canvas. "She’s quite a catch."

"In her defense, she’s high as a kite right now."

"Quite a catch indeed."

Tristan smiled again and shook his dark hair out of his face as he carefully separated the soles of Caitlin’s boot. After a short while, the pressure of Caitlin’s cramped foot aided the process and her toes blossomed out of the tip of the boot. The rush of blood circulating properly through her feet made them tingle and she couldn’t help but smile. Caitlin offered to finish job herself and, gripping the tip, tore away the rest of the sole until her foot comfortably extended nearly three inches longer than the shoe itself. Tristan’s eyes widened, clearly impressed with the show of strength, before setting to work on the left foot.

"I may need to special order from now on," Caitlin remarked to break the awkward silence.

"Won’t do you much good now," he said. "I have some size 13 sneakers you can use."

Caitlin felt bad taking his shoes but a quick glance at her lengthy feet suggested she should probably take him up on the offer. Tristan finished up the job on Caitlin’s other boot, and with both feet free and the boots utterly destroyed, Tristan returned to his Nicole, who lay motionless face-down on her canvas. He ran his fingers through Nicole’s paint-stained hair, and Nicole cooed and rolled over. Caitlin had never seen Nicole so genuinely happy, and watching the moment made Caitlin feel suddenly lonely.

"Call Ivey," Tristan spoke up.

This caught Caitlin off-guard. "I don’t have her number."

"Then go see her."

"I don’t kn—"

"Today. Until 7:00. I can’t imagine you’ve got much going on."

Desperate for an escape, Caitlin gestured to her wardrobe. "I’m hardly dressed for success right now."

Tristan kicked off his shoes towards Caitlin and tossed her an oversized art smock.

"What about pants?"

"For fuck’s sake!" Nicole chimed in, still facedown. "Tristan, give the whiny bitch your pants and belt. Caitlin, you're developing an annoying habit of ruining my buzz."

"I thought you were incoherent."

"I thought you were resourceful. Hey, look! We’re both wrong!"

"You want me to change in front of your boyfriend?"

"We’re going to have sex in here when you leave, or sooner if you don’t get to stripping."

Caitlin pondered briefly how exactly that answered her question before shrugging and removing her undersized clothing. She realized the t-shirt wouldn’t come off unless she cut herself out of it. It gripped her body with gusto and left little to the imagination. While her shirt was elastic enough to wear as a mini-tee (which it wasn’t…originally), the bra would have to go. She unclasped the bra and maneuvered it with some difficulty out from underneath her second-skin t-shirt. Her breasts seemed to be held in place well enough, though the shirt was stretched nearly to the point of transparency. Caitlin caught a glimpse of Tristan giving her a brief once-over while removing his pants, and he nodded in playful approval as he handed them over. Caitlin rolled her eyes and peeled the remnants of her jeans off, then shimmied into Tristan’s cargo pants, which barely reached her calves and hugged her hips snugly. Lastly, she slipped on the art smock, groaning when the sleeves ended at her elbows and the top two buttons puckered around her bust.

"Here goes nothing," Caitlin said, fastening the belt around her waist. She was facing away from Tristan and Nicole as she made the final adjustments to her wardrobe. Standing to her feet, she felt instantly light-headed. Where her earlier growth spurts had left her feeling a bit off-kilter, her height at present was absolutely dizzying. The room, the easels, the desks, everything was so…small. Even the high ceiling in the art room looked almost reachable. She couldn’t bring herself to even say the numbers to herself, but she had a feeling she had reached an elite numerical group as far as her height was concerned.

"This is insane," Caitlin mused aloud. She was about to turn around when audible moaning from behind her stopped her short. She could make out sounds of paint splattering as Nicole and Tristan went to town on their most recent art collaboration—apparently still in progress.

"Never mind. That is insane."

Caitlin took the bus downtown, and quickly realized she had not yet grasped the novelty of being an exceptionally tall girl. The bus driver, a stout man in his fifties, looked at her as if she had nine heads when she boarded the bus (of course, barely fitting through the door certainly didn’t help). The rest of the passengers were fairly civil, though a few couldn’t help but gawk at her. While the attention was hardly welcome, Caitlin couldn’t really blame them—girls in their teens are rarely taller than six feet tall, let alone seven. She glanced about, hoping to see at least one person near her height, but found no one remotely close. Fortunately, the ride was uneventful and the bus dropped her at a transit station near the coffee shop.

The doorway to Bean Town was smaller than Caitlin remembered. Then again, the last time she’d been there, she was a foot shorter. She ducked to avoid both the doorframe and the eye-level bell, which announced her arrival in the mostly empty cafe. She had only had to do it a few times, but the ducking already had begun to feel routine. Ivey darted about behind the espresso machine, just as she had when Caitlin had first seen her. The shop was fairly empty at 2:00 in the afternoon. A few patrons looked up at Caitlin, although this time they made little effort to hide their wonder at her towering height. When she made eye contact with them, they looked down, though she could feel the glances at her when she looked away. "What are they feeding these kids?" an older woman muttered, reading a book in the far corner. Caitlin glared, but the woman didn’t meet her eyes. Not realizing she’d paused in the middle of the room, Ivey acknowledged her.

"Long time no see sweetie. What’s new?" Ivey propped her small frame onto the counter, cocking her head slightly as she studied Caitlin expectantly. "You’re different," She continued with half a smile. Caitlin blushed and hid behind her bangs which fell into her face. Bashful gestures or anything "cute" really did not work when you’re nearly as tall as the ceiling. She straightened up.

"I don’t know what you mean."

"Tristan and Nicole told me you'd been having a rough time lately."

"To put it lightly."

"Nicole said you were having some formative experiences."

"It’s been crazy."

"Tristan said you’d been growing…"


"…into yourself."

Caitlin choked on her words, as Ivey’s words resonated in her head. "I’ve…changed some in the past few weeks."

"I said you were ready for a change." Caitlin felt flush as if the eyes of the world were on her. The two patrons near the front rose to leave, and Ivey waved a cheerful goodbye at them. An older woman in the back had set her book down and headed to the bathroom.

"Come over here," Ivey said, her rich green eyeshadow framing bright, eager eyes. Caitlin gravitated closer to the counter, though still standing a few steps away. "Closer," Ivey repeated. Caitlin’s waist touched the counter, which felt unreasonably low to her. With the woman in the bathroom, they were alone in the expansive café. Avant-garde jazz played in the stereo system, which only amplified Caitlin’s unease. Ivey still smiled, gazing up at Caitlin.

"I want to tell you something sweetie, but you’ll have to come closer." Caitlin felt her body lower itself down–far down–to the counter where Ivey waited patiently for her. It was as if Caitlin were watching everything happen, but not participating. Ivey smoothly and nimbly reached over the counter, slid her small fingers up the back of Caitlin’s neck, and pulled her in, firmly planting their lips together. Caitlin whimpered slightly, caught off guard both by Ivey’s surprising strength and the feel of Ivey’s hand against the back of her neck, which sent chills down her back. Ivey shifted, inhaling deeply and exhaling a soft moan as Caitlin began to relax. Caitlin touched Ivey’s hand as they lingered for another moment and Ivey parted their lips.

"My, my, you are indeed something special, Caitlin Landry," she said between them. Ivey kissed Caitlin a second time before casually but concisely breaking the moment. Ivey turned to answer the phone Caitlin hadn’t even realized was ringing until then. She was hunched over the counter, her face flush. Ivey chatted on the phone, but Caitlin didn’t really pay attention to the conversation. She stared, dazed, before being snapped out of it by the loud squeaking of the bathroom door.

"Thanks, Tristan, I’ll see you in ten."

Caitlin looked at Ivey, who winked back at her. Ivey silenced the phone with a beep. "Nicole got off early, and it looks like I will too."

Too much information. "What’s going on?"

"Tristan’s picking up some pants and filling in for me today. I’m taking the rest of the day off."

"For what?"

Ivey grinned again. "You."

Chapter 18

Tristan returned after about ten minutes, covered in paint and wearing a shit-eating grin from ear to ear. Ivey hooted playfully and Tristan broke into a full smile. Caitlin couldn’t help but laugh as well. Tristan looked her way and nodded in Ivey’s direction, making Caitlin blush again. Having had people gazing at her all day like Lilliputians at Guilliver, it was comforting to have someone not look at her with lust, shock, wonder, or some combination of the three. Sure, part of it had to do with Tristan and Nicole having just fucked with reckless abandon, but Caitlin was grateful nonetheless.

With a quick yank, Ivey pulled Caitlin to her feet and toward the door, waving her farewells to Tristan. Caitlin barely managed to duck in time to miss the door jam. "Hey!" she yelped. "What’s the hurry?"

"We’ve got to get you some clothes," Ivey replied unabated, dragging Caitlin across the road. A car stopped for them and she could make out the fascinated eyes of its driver. Caitlin imagined she and Ivey looked like a scaled up version of a child pulling a full grown adult.

"Why are you rushing?" Caitlin protested. "It’s barely 4:00 pm, nothing’s closed yet."

"Name me one place in town we can find clothes that fit you." Ivey replied. Caitlin didn't have to ponder that one very long. "Exactly." Ivey continued, "Now, if you hurry up I'll have you dressed for success in no time."

"You know of some super-secret WNBA big-tall-and-freakish superstore?"

"No, but I know where I can get you clothes." Ivey said, beeping her car unlocked. "Hurry up and get in."

Caitlin took one look at Ivey’s yellow VW bug, and snorted. "Are you kidding me?"

"Shush. You aren't that humongous."

…but humongous nonetheless. Caitlin crouched low and assessed the vehicle’s interior. It was one of the newer VW models, and much roomier than she would have expected. Regardless, she had a hard time picturing herself wedging into it. "I am not going to fit in there," she said, gesturing at the small interior.

Ivey rolled her eyes dramatically, in an expression Caitlin felt made her look like a strange combination of Nicole and Maureen. "Get in," Ivey continued impatiently, "or I yank your giant self in here."

"Will you lay off the size comm…" Ivey abruptly grabbed Caitlin’s arm and did exactly as she had warned, pulling Caitlin clumsily into the vehicle. where she landed face-first in Ivey’s lap.

"We've got to keep meeting like this," Ivey said, smiling. Caitlin replied with muffled profanity, while Ivey, undaunted, grabbed the waistband of Caitlin’s jeans, tugging her both further into the vehicle and out the open driver’s side door. Caitlin fussed, kicking her legs wildly, but her movements were restricted in the confined space, and her shoulder hit the horn drawing unwanted attention to their ordeal. Ivey calmly reached across Caitlin’s back to the glove box to retrieve her sunglasses but was unable to completely open it with Caitlin’s hips in the way.

"Hey, could you move your ass? I can’t open my glove box."

"Damn it!" Caitlin yelled, still writhing about from below. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Ignoring Caitlin’s protests, Ivey retrieved her sunglasses and started the car, with both doors open and Caitlin hanging out of each side. Caitlin finally relented and Ivey waited patiently as Caitlin grunted, groaned, and compacted herself into the passenger seat. Putting the seat all the way back, Her knees still reached the dash, but fortunately, her head only grazed ceiling. All the while Ivey scanned radio stations, settling on a jazz station and humming along softly as she pulled into traffic.

"You ever listen to Miles Davis?"

"Are you going to apologize for assaulting me?" Caitlin huffed.

"This one’s ‘Blue in Green.’ I could listen to this song for hours."

"My clothes fit bad enough as it is. Now I've got a wedgie from hell to go with it." Caitlin fidgeted, trying her best to renegotiate space inside Tristan’s borrowed pants, which fit snugly around her hips. Fortunately, some borrowed undergarments from her older, stockier sister had alleviated her need for underwear. If things kept up at this pace, however, she soon be one of the more unusual cases to walk into a Lane Bryant. Ivey still hummed along to the instrumental solo. Caitlin was perplexed by Ivey's perpetually even temperament."You aren't like normal people are you?"

Ivey laughed softly. "You’re a fine one to talk."

"Touché." Caitlin changed the subject. "So, where are we going?"

"The Northshore Community College Theater Company."

"Why there?"

"Clothing hun. We may go out tonight after dinner and, no offense, but I won’t be seen with you looking like you do."

Caitlin tightened her lips with indignation, before reassessing her wardrobe and resigning, "None taken."

Only a few miles down the main road from the shopping center, Ivey pulled into the parking lot of the performance hall and escorted Caitlin inside. An old building the NCC performing arts department had been built around, Caitlin groaned at the low lobby ceilings, which lied a few inches below her current height. Ivey squeezed Caitlin’s hand in consolation, but did not look back as she led Caitlin briskly to the backstage area at the rear of the building. The theater was mostly deserted, and while Caitlin could hear a few voices, she was thrilled not to encounter anyone as she crouched through the corridor backstage. After a few turns in the backstage labyrinth, Caitlin could make out light peeking under a pair of doors. She also clearly heard late-90s teen pop blaring from inside, and an effeminate male voice singing at full volume. Caitlin felt an uneasy feeling in her gut as Ivey rapped on the metal double-door loudly. The singing only grew louder, and after a few moments Ivey knocked again. The voice behind the door continued its crescendo, and Caitlin, impatient from being cramped in yet another hallway, slammed on the door with her open palm, making a racket which echoed throughout backstage.

"WHAAA-AAAAT?" the voice whined as the door shot open revealing a tanned, thin young man dressed in bright red form-fitting jeans and a white tank top. "Ivelene you know I don’t like to be interrupted mid-chor…" He gasped in shock upon noticing the single largest person he had ever seen. Blinking rapidly, he looked back and forth between the two girls, before finally pointing at Caitlin and asking, "Is this for me?" Ivey smiled and nodded. The flamboyant young man’s demeanor abruptly changed to one of uninhibited animation. He grabbed Caitlin by the arm and led her into a cavernous dressing room with clothes of all styles and sizes hanging from racks, draped over chairs, and piled in corners.

"I have to apologize, we’ve just wrapped our one-act festival and this place is an absolute sty." He positioned Caitlin in the middle of the room and whipped out a measuring tape, stopping for a swift introduction. "Where are my manners?" he said suddenly, taking her hand. "I’m Frederick, and I’ll be your wardrobe, hair, and makeup this evening." Frederick kissed her hand and Caitlin recoiled as if she’d just been licked by a toad.

"Sure, whatever," Caitlin replied curtly, glancing about for Ivey. Ivey had seated herself at the edge of the room and had extracted a magazine from underneath a pile of clothes. Caitlin frowned and turned her attention back to Frederick. "You think you’re going to have my size?"

"We do a monthly Rocky Horror and a few drag other shows. I get every size and shape you could imagine," Frederick explained as he darted the measuring tape all about her frame faster than Caitlin could brush him away. He took a look at the tape pinched in his fingers and his eyes widened "And might I say you are certainly broadening my imagination. I’ve got what you need, but you’ll have to give me a minute to pull the stuffing out of it. Some of our gentlemen dressers like their curves, shall we say, generously protuberant?"

Caitlin tried to imagine a man wearing any of these clothes, let alone the brassiere she knew she would need. "Geez, how big are the guys that come in here?"

"That’s a bit of a personal question, wouldn’t you say dear?" Frederick shrieked with laughter. "I’m just awful!!!" Caitlin was impatient and repeated her question.

"Oh, you’d be surprised. Let’s just say a few of our basketball stars really enjoy playing in the men's league," he winked. "Of course, I’ve never had any men or women in here quite as big as you," he said, following it up with a nudge on the side of her breast. "Definitely not." Caitlin firmly swatted his hand away, and Frederick smiled.

"Mmmm. Don’t get snappy hon. I’ve got some foundation garments for those extraordinary leading ladies of yours."

Caitlin groaned and again looked to Ivey, who remained occupied by the magazine. Ivey grinned, clearly following the conversation, but opting not to participate.

Frederick disappeared and reappeared in moments with an armful of absurdly large bras. Caitlin chose the most fashionable one she could find and gaped at the tag, which read "38G." Holding the expansive construct of lace and steel up to herself. It seemed appropriately scaled to her size, which both relieved and horrified her. Frederick interpreted Caitlin's response as excitement. "I’ve got a few more items in the back. What say you slip into your intimates while I’m gone?" Caitlin’s eyes narrowed, and Frederick put his hands gently over his face as he shuffled to the back. "Oh, I know. No peeking!"

Caitlin kicked the costume door shut behind Frederick, and Ivey stepped into the hallway, providing Caitlin some privacy. Finally alone, Caitlin immediately switched out of Tristan's pants for some daisy-duke sweat shorts, which stopped at her upper thigh. They were hardly fashionable, but Caitlin couldn't bear to look at Tristan's paint-splattered pants anymore. Next, Caitlin set to work peeling off the t-shirt. It took a great deal of effort, with straining and popping of seams heard all around her as she maneuvered the garment around her shoulders and over her head. After finally extracting her head, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply with relief, tossing her hair and arching her now unbound torso. When she opened her eyes, she could hardly believe them.

The sight of her herself in the mirror brought Caitlin to breathlessness. She had honestly never seen a sight like herself before and had a hard time imagining where she could. The proportions of her body, at her old height of 5’4" would have been eye-catching. Now standing—as Frederick had reported to her—at 7’1" and wearing only a cutoff pair of shorts, she stared awestruck. She had to stand substantially far back in the room to see herself in the three floor-length mirrors, and she dwarfed everything around her. Her body, while undeniably huge, was at the same time alluring in its size. Everything, from her rich, black hair to her lengthy, lithe limbs, and magnificent breasts commanded attention. She had convinced herself she had grown into a freak, but the mirrors reflected a startlingly different assessment. At every angle, she was perfect.

"I get the feeling you see what I saw all along." Ivey’s voice broke Caitlin’s enchantment and she instinctively covered herself, though she had some difficulty covering all of herself.

"Ivey, Jeez!" she stammered. Caitlin wanted to be angry, but upon whirling around, she saw Ivey simply gazing at her with the same large, bright eyes that always seemed to leave Caitlin searching for words.

Caitlin smiled softly. "Thanks, you know, for everything."

"My pleasure, sweetie."

The moment was soon broken by a banging from the inside of the closet. "I told you I wouldn’t peek!" came Frederick’s muffled protest. Caitlin slipped into the bra provided for her and unlocked the door. Frederick burst out of the doors unaffected by his brief entrapment and carrying a stack of outfits.

"Oh honey, do you know how long I’ve waited to try these out on someone who doesn’t need a wig, a waist cincher, and a waxing?" He produced a shiny leather corset with buckles and a zipper up the back. "Oooh, this will be fantastic, and just your size. You’re lucky that goddess of a torso of yours isn’t as lengthy as those gams. Speaking of which, you could crush a regiment in those things." Caitlin was not amused, but Frederick continued. "And my word, this bum of yours warrants a round of applause, if not a merely pat on the back." He swatted Caitlin’s rear, making an audible pop. Faster than he could respond, Frederick found himself gripped firmly at the collar and his face inches from Caitlin’s menacing glare.

"Listen to me you creep," Caitlin seethed, "If you touch me like that again, or in any manner I find inappropriate, I will make you sorely wish you hadn’t. Are we clear?"

Frederick whimpered as he felt his trembling feet lift off of the ground.

"Are we clear?" Caitlin repeated, hissing through her teeth.

Frederick nodded, and Caitlin lowered him to the floor, giving him a final shove that sent him staggering into the dresser behind him. Visibly shaken, Frederick took a moment to clear his throat and straighten his collar before grinning naughtily at Caitlin.

"Honey, you can come back anytime you like."

Chapter 19

"So she never knew?"

"Nope. You’d think she’d have figured it out. We’ve got three classes together."

"I know you guys are friends an all, but she’s a damned moron."

"Aw, come on. Give her some credit."

Nicole snorted. "I’ll give her credit for finally working up the nerve give to her little lesbian fantasy a ring."

Maureen stifled a laugh. "I still can’t believe you called that one. Just when you think you know someone."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You owe me twenty bucks."

Maureen mulled this one over for a moment. "How about we do coffee, my treat?"

Nicole needed little convincing. "Sure. Let’s do Cozmic Café, you buy the cigs this time, and Tristan gets to go."

"Deal. Can Alexis come?"

"Fuck no."

"I’m kidding, jeez," Maureen laughed. "Hey if you want to roll a few and bring those along, I’d be all for that. Dealing with Caitlin’s left me on my last nerve."

"Hell yeah." Nicole replied, rifling through her desk drawer for her closest stash. "I must say I underestimated you, Jacobs. You’re still princess prissy of the tools though."

"And you’re still a poster girl for prozac."

Nicole smiled. "Bite me. I’ll see you in fifteen."

Maureen shut her phone and tossed it in her purse, before reaching behind the headboard of her bed and fishing out a pack of unfiltered cigarettes. After the month of Caitlin drama, this was just what she needed.

Sorry Cait, but you don’t get to be the only one with surprises.

Frederick offered to let Caitlin hang onto the wardrobe as long as she needed it, and even let her pick out a few outfits to keep. Caitlin settled on a few of the less flashy outfits, including the black skirt and corset blouse she currently wore. Sized for someone broader and shorter, the skirt hugged her hips nicely, showing off her endless legs and accentuating her lower curves. The corset top absolutely celebrated her cleavage. She still would have opted to show less skin, but Frederick refused to lose that battle. Caitlin was also a bit miffed Frederick was unable to turn up shoes with any less than a three-inch heel. "Find me a queen who wears flats to a drag show," he replied, "and I’ll be happy to give them to you."

In the car, Ivey handed Caitlin a bright blue brooch to wear around her neck. Though unsure if the brooch was purchased for her or simply on hand, and slightly uncomfortable with where such a bright piece of jewelry would draw the eyes, Caitlin accepted it. "It’s a special night for you," Ivey said. "We also want to look our best for dinner." Ivey had changed into some simple black slacks and a sleeveless turtleneck top. She had a tribal tattoo on her upper arm Caitlin hadn’t seen before, and kept her assortment of bracelets that chimed together as Ivey drove them downtown.

Ivey treated to dinner at The Eastside Grill, a five-star restaurant known for their fantastic portions and outrageous prices. With Ivey footing the bill and with Caitlin’s increased appetite, neither posed a problem, though Caitlin wasn’t sure which she was more suspicious of. Regardless of how big she was, the entire 20 oz. steak with the salad, appetizer, and dessert seemed a bit much. Ivey also polished off her meal in a rather impressive fashion for someone her size, but Ivey shrugged off Caitlin’s inquiry ("I’m a big eater.") just as she shrugged off the bill ("It’s a special night."). Caitlin also was curious how Ivey had managed to include a bottle of wine with the meal without the waitress checking either of their IDs. Even with Caitlin’s height, neither one of them looked unquestionably of legal drinking age.

In spite of her unanswered questions, Caitlin enjoyed dinner and found herself spilling everything to Ivey, while Ivey simply sipped her wine and nodded. She prodded Ivey with a few questions, and only managed to discern Ivey was not in high school, had lived in the area for less than a few years, had no siblings, liked avant-garde jazz, and possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of damn near everything. Ivey was comfortable talking about art history, pop culture, geography, and everything in between. After nearly three hours at the restaurant, a full, tipsy, and tired Caitlin declined the offer to go clubbing. Ivey obliged, and invited Caitlin to her apartment since it was still early.

After a couple of hours of reviewing their geometry homework, Ben joined Alexis on her bed as she talked up a storm, hopping frequently from subject to subject. The studying had made his head hurt, and he was more than happy to let the conversation remain one-sided, as was the norm with the two of them.

"…I mean, her boobs look seriously awesome and I dig her hair, but she’s way too tall to model."

"Yeah," was Ben’s simple reply. He didn’t really have a thing for super-tall girls, and he was certainly happy with the girl he had (Caitlin, at any height, had always kind of scared him). He couldn’t help but imagine, however, what it would be like if his girlfriend had handfuls that could overflow even his ultra-large hands.

"I mean, I don’t need bigger boobs, but I’d take ‘em if someone were offering."

"Yeah," Ben said again, eyeing his girlfriend’s abundant cleavage thoughtfully.

Alexis suddenly sat up on her bed. "I wish my boobs would grow bigger!" she shouted aloud.

"Yeah…" Ben grinned.

Alex smiled giddily at her big teddy bear of a boyfriend. "I wish they were too big for you Benji!"

Ben’s eyes widened as he stared upwards, still lying back on the bed. "Yeah!"

Alex scrunched her nose and closed her eyes tightly. "I wish my boobs would grow bigger…right now!"

Both Alexis and Ben sat in eager anticipation, before Alex started giggling and Ben, not sure what was happening or what he expected to happen, chuckled softly as well. Alex cocked an eyebrow down at her unchanged bosom, which still jutted prominently out in front of her.

"I guess 34E is enough," she sighed, laying back on the bed and cuddling next to him.

Having been engrossed in his girlfriend’s cleavage for the duration of the conversation, (and the evening), Ben shrugged. "Yeah."

"I love you, Benji."

Ben blushed and pulled Alex closer to him, smiling. "Yeah."

Alexis smiled big and wrapped herself around her boyfriend’s solid torso, pressing her acceptably substantial assets between them. "Wanna’ fool around?"

A slightly confused, but more than satisfied Ben returned the embrace with a goofy, ear-to-ear grin.

Hell yeah!

Ivey’s place was a modest-sized studio apartment, decorated in an eclectic, but modern style. From the décor, Caitlin deduced Ivey had done some globetrotting. At the same time, as detailed as some of the photos were, she had a hard time discerning any more than the little she already knew of Ivey’s background. She wanted to think more about it, but the buzz of the wine, as well as the small arms around her torso, distracted her. Ivey anticipated Caitlin’s wanting to speak up and responded by leaping upward and latching onto Caitlin who involuntarily caught her. Ivey laughed and pulled herself in to meet her face to face.

"We’ve got to keep meeting like this," Ivey whispered between them, before planting her lips firmly onto Caitlin's. Caitlin held Ivey in the air as they reverently kissed in the silence of the room. The buzz of the alcohol, the euphoria of the moment, and the girl in her arms began to overcome Caitlin’s center of gravity, and she found herself staggering a bit. Ivey laughed. "Aim for the bed…" Caitlin didn’t have to be told twice. They crashed onto the bed, with Ivey landing mostly on top with an arm pinned behind Caitlin’s back. The bed creaked, and at least two wooden crossbeams snapped. Caitlin grimaced and, after a brief silence, both girls erupted in laughter.

"Geez, I’m sorry."

"Comes with the territory, hon."

"I can’t believe I’m big enough to break beds." Caitlin turned beet red and covered her face. "What’s happened to my life?"

"All good things, from my perspective," Ivey replied, pushing the hair out of Caitlin’s face, and stroking her cheek. Caitlin lifted up to free Ivey’s arm from underneath her. Ivey extracted it, and sat up, straddling Caitlin’s torso. She playfully craned her neck up in an attempt to see over the mountain of cleavage that spilled into Caitlin’s face.

"You can’t imagine the view from up here."

Caitlin’s cleavage flowed upward and cradled her chin. "I’m surprised I can still see you."

"I’m surprised you can still breathe."

"The corset isn’t helping."

"Roll over, I’ll help you out of it."

Caitlin rolled over and allowed Ivey to unlace the bodice. Caitlin felt increased relief until the bodice sprung open and dropped away.

"Oh God, that’s amazing," Caitlin said, breathing deep and letting her ribcage fully expand for the first time in hours. She took a quick breath in as she felt Ivey’s hands under her shirt. Though relaxed by the wine, she couldn’t shake the small pinches of nervousness at the direction the night was headed. At the same time, the small, strong hands massaging her back eased her nerves.

"Did you have fun tonight?"


Ivey worked her hands up the sides of Caitlin’s torso and scratched at the her ribcage. The crook of Ivey’s elbows met the bottom hem of Caitlin’s shirt, slowly working it upward. Caitlin wanted to make a bigger deal of this, but Ivey’s fingers continued to knead at her flesh, effectively disarming her.

"Relax hon. You’ve had a rough week." Ivey’s hands worked their way up the expanse of Caitlin’s back to just below her neck. Her shirt slipped further upward, exposing most of the bare flesh of her back. Again, she started to tense, but Ivey continued massaging her and Caitlin relaxed. "I’ve had a wonderful night as well, so far."

After a moment, Caitlin replied, "Me too. I…"

"One sec’ sweetie." For a moment, Caitlin felt Ivey’s hands leave her back. She was about to call attention to it, but she felt Ivey shift and maneuver on top of her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught a piece of fabric fall drop to the ground. Before she could react, she felt Ivey’s bare front against her back and soft lips working from the base of her neck toward the back of her ears. A small, warm tongue against her earlobe shot a chill down the length of her body. Caitlin moaned softly, and for the first time, she noticed the lower pitch of the voice emanating from her larger body. Again, she heard Ivey’s voice in her ear.

"One more time, sweetie. Give me one more."


Caitlin relished the feeling of the cool silk sheets against her long body and rolled slightly to the side as Ivey moved downward. Ivey ran her nose and lips against Caitlin’s belly eliciting an eruption of goosebumps on Caitlin's arms and back.

"I want one more."

"What are you—"

"Shhh. Just relax."

Caitlin rolled onto her side again, letting Ivey slide her blouse over her head. Ivey again embraced Caitlin’s expansive body. Momentarily savoring the ever-so-slight difference in their body temperatures, Ivey began to work her way down, letting her hands lead the way. Stopping at the waistline, Ivey ran her nose and lips along Caitlin’s lower back.

"You are, indeed, something special."

Working her way along the curve of Caitlin’s hips, Ivey stopped just before her knees and explored back up the inside of Caitlin’s leg. Fully in the moment, Caitlin began to lose herself, letting Ivey take things from there.

"One last time."

Ivey had worked up the inside of Caitlin’s leg and paused briefly. Caitlin could hear Ivey breathing from underneath her skirt, but couldn’t see her. Her shallow breathing was the only sound in the room before a wave of pleasure rocked through her as Ivey entered her and Caitlin moaned again, deep and long.

Grow for me.

Feeling first fingers, and now a tongue inside her, Caitlin was aroused nearly to the point of incomprehension, but managed to reply, "I…can’t."


Ivey continued, unabated as Caitlin’s body bucked and the bed creaked in response. "I…"

Grow for me, one more time.


Electricity seemed to jolt through Caitlin’s body as she writhed in ecstasy, feeling the sheets shift against her skin. After a minute or so, Ivey emerged from underneath the covers, grinning and dripping with perspiration. She nustled into Caitlin’s torso, burying her face into the underside of the breasts swelling around her. Just as Caitlin thought the feeling would subside, she felt lips and teeth around her nipple and the pins and needles in her body returned twice as strong.

It’s happening.

Ivey locked her legs around the expanse of Caitlin’s thigh, moaning at the feeling of it swelling larger in her grip. Caitlin shuddered and tensed as a wave of pleasure washed over her, prying Ivey’s fingers apart as her body expanded. Ivey clung to Caitlin ever more tightly, relishing the friction of her bare skin against Caitlin’s. A primal, guttural groan erupted from Caitlin and Ivey, overcome with pleasure, screamed in response. The bed popped, creaked, and snapped underneath them.

In the final moments before she fell asleep, Caitlin ran her fingers through her long silky black hair flowing from her head which now firmly pressed against the headboard. Her body extended the length of the bed with her feet resting firmly on the floor and a small amazing woman wrapped around her lengthy torso. A still awake but exhausted Ivey ran her fingernails against Caitlin’s ribcage. Caitlin smiled, rubbing Ivey’s small back as they both fell asleep.

Chapter 20

One month later

It was 4:30 in the afternoon on a warm Summer afternoon when Craig wandered into Bean Town, the local café so highly recommended by his cousin Steve. He hadn’t exactly explained why, but Steve had told him it was "unquestionably your kind of place." After a few months of prodding from his cousin, he took the bait and made the half-hour drive out to Northshore to scope the place out. At worst, he could visit the mall while he was in the area, or even hit up the swimming pool at the community college.

The place was surprisingly crowded, with a customer seated at nearly every table. Not only was nearly every table taken, but most of the tables had only a single customer—one male customer—seated at them. There were a few other tables with couples or small groups, and some others sipping coffee as they admired the abundance of art pieces which adorned the walls. The pieces ranged from a surreal depiction of an igloo sitting next to a tree under a red two-mooned sky, to an abstract splattering of body-shaped blotches taking up most of the rear wall. While the paintings were fascinating, he had a hard time believing they were the sole draw of the place. In fact, he was already starting to lament spending a perfectly nice summer afternoon driving out to Northshore, of all places, to…

"Did you want something?"

On top of it all, the baristas are surly too? Give me a break, Craig thought, turning toward the counter, though there was no one there. At second glance, he noticed a punk-ish, well-decorated girl sorting through a pile of paintings in the corner. She wasn't wearing an apron, so he couldn't tell if she was asking for his order or even if she worked there. "Yeah sure," he said aloud. "I’ll take a frappuccino."

"Then go to Starbucks," a second, smaller but cuter, girl snapped. She was seated at a table reading, but she was wearing an apron and appeared to work there.

"Then get me something cold that tastes like coffee."

"Read the menu. I’m not going to do it for you, smartass."

Craig briefly scanned the menu but was soon drawn to a second art piece that seemed far too grotesque to be displayed in public. It resembled some combination of a giraffe and an elderly woman, decorated with scars and boils. "I can believe you display this stuff. This is sick."

"Look at something else then," the punk girl spoke up. She was using a step-ladder to hang another surreal piece up near the entrance. From the look of her, he safely assumed most of the more abstract pieces were hers. "Not everyone comes here for the art," she remarked, leveling a framed canvas.

"Well they sure as hell don’t come here for the service," he replied, now standing at the counter. He gave the menu another look, before turning to the seated barista at the table. "I’ll take an iced latte."

"I’m on my break."

Craig shook his head in disbelief. "Well who’s going to take my order?"

"Iced latte," a voice suddenly said from behind and above him. "Did you want any flavoring in it?"

He jolted around, and was immediately presented with the largest person–let alone girl–he had ever seen. She fashionably wore an undersized secondhand store blouse which stopped at her elbows. A black lycra spaghetti strap top underneath prominently displayed the "Bean Town" logo at his eye level, adorning the largest and most magnificent breasts he had ever laid eyes on. They were framed by the blouse, buttoned as far up as it would go, with the third button from the bottom straining for dear life.

He stepped back and looked up into her eyes, which impatiently rolled upwards. Their crystal blue dramatically contrasted her dark hair tied back in a ponytail. "Vanilla iced latte?" she offered. The young man only gaped in response at the girl, whose nametag read "Caitlin." She was leaning back on the counter and her hips, which would meet him at chest level, flared outward in cargo pants that hugged her legs like a second skin and stopped at the tops of her calves, which he could see even from behind the counter.

"Latte?" he managed to squeak out.

The towering girl put a hand to her head, before stepping forward and leaning onto the counter, which was a quite a ways down from her. While she was now at eye level with him, his eyes were drawn to the immense jugs which hung down from her chest as she leaned forward. In fact, most eyes within viewing distance were drawn to the same place, as various conversations between male patrons suddenly trailed off.

"Hey!" she said. "Vanilla iced latte?"

"Uh…vanilla iced latte."

"Large vanilla iced latte?"

"L…l…large. Vanilla iced latte."

"Okay! Thank you!" she said, exasperatedly straightening back to her full, towering height. The top still prominently displayed a good five inches of cleavage. "That’ll be three sixty-five."

The young man, not tearing his eyes away from Caitlin, fumbled for his wallet before dropping a five dollar bill and a handful of change onto the counter. She leaned back over to count the change and the young man stared unabashedly at the cleavage hanging in front of him that could likely swallow his head whole.

"This is five forty-seven. Did you want to give me more change or what?"


Caitlin made an odd sideways glance at him and completed the transaction, dropping a handful of change into the overflowing tip jar. She sighed loudly as she set to work making the drink. Craig could only stare at her profile as she bent down again to retrieve the milk. He felt himself get light-headed as she bent down to retrieve the milk from the small fridge, as hips wider than his body framed her succulent posterior. To top it off, as she prepared the espresso shot, he realized she was more than big enough to lift the entire espresso machine and drop it on him if she so pleased.

"I don’t think I’ve seen you here before," she said flatly, forcing small talk.

"Uh…I’ve never been here before."

"Huh. What brings you out here?"

"It was recommended."

She eyed him suspiciously, giving him a slight smile. "Recommended, huh?" she replied. The subtle grin surprised him, and he found himself losing his bearings.

"Sure. I was, yeah."


"Um. Yeah."

"You sure you can handle an espresso?" Craig didn’t reply and Ivey grinned from behind the magazine across the room.

"I’ll…take it. Uh huh."

"I hope so. You paid for it." Caitlin easily reached over the espresso machine and handed over the drink. "Here ya’ go." Craig reached forward with a shaky hand and took the drink from her. Caitlin held on to it for a couple of moments longer, making sure he’d actually grasped it.

"Come back in sometime."

"I…okay…yeah." The young man awkwardly shuffled out of the coffee shop, his eyes remained glued to the girl behind the counter. The door shut and Caitlin shook her head and rolled her eyes. Ivey set down her magazine and headed over to the counter.

"Hey, sweetie." Ivey chirped.


"Not bad for your first week on the job."

Caitlin eyed the tip jar, and glanced quickly down at the obscene amount of cleavage she had on display. She still was getting used to her own body, and today was the first day she hadn’t knocked something over in the first hour of her workday. The place simply wasn’t designed for 7’7" baristas, but she was making do. "Yeah, I’m getting used to it."

"You know," Ivey said. "I’d like to see more of your work up here. I’m not sure how much more of Nicole’s work everyone can stomach."

Nicole hit her thumb with the hammer and cursed none-too-subtly, which momentarily took the focus of the room off of Caitlin. Caitlin laughed quietly and checked out the smattering of her own works, including the appropriately titled "Unexpected Surprises," which earned her an "A" in advanced painting and a first runner-up in a regional contest (Nicole won first prize with "Cannabis Coitus"). "Maybe," she said. "I’ve been on a creative streak lately."

Ivey grinned slightly. "So have you grown into yourself?"

Caitlin blew an errant strand of black hair out of her eyes. "I certainly hope so."

"Do you? Really?"

Caitlin paused, looking around at the gathering of customers pretending not to be absolutely infatuated with her and then at Ivey who did absolutely nothing to hide the fact. She then looked down at her chest and up at the ceiling, grinning naughtily.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "I am, after all, full of surprises."