Beauty Undone Multi DG (Moderate)

[allthosecurves]

Excellent introduction and setup for the upcoming changes. Can't wait until the next chapter!

[Matt L.]

I applaud your hard work in executing such well written material. What's especially admirable is the realistic dialogue.
Top-notch!

Cheers, Matt

[Tornasunder]

Mallory spent much of the early evening sulking and feeling sorry for herself. Not even a three hour Kardashian binge over a pint of Ben & Jerry's could lift her mood. Well, there was that impulse purchase ordering a bra identical to the one Kim had just showcased. (And of course the matching panties) But soon, that too felt hollow... even with the “no extra charge” 2-day shipping guarantee.

Numerous tweets and texts went unanswered. Mallory even delayed updating her Facespace page with the trove of choice selfies captured throughout the day. That didn't stop her from looking at them, however. But, whenever a hint of a smile would find its way to her face, there would be Brittany. After the sixth time it became too much.

“Ugghh!” she cursed, practically throwing down the uPhone.

It was time to do something different. 'But what?' Nothing looked good on TV. Mallory glanced to the kitchen, biting her lip temptingly in the process but it wasn't really hunger. In fact, she might've overdone it with the ice cream so soon after supper. Mallory placed a hand on her firm abdomen rounding out ever so slightly from the night's indulgences.

“Oof.”

Images of Mary's spreading thighs and Keisha's soft tummy sprang to mind. 'Better watch it girl. You don't want to end up like them' So instead she turned her back to the rest of the house and wandered aimlessly down the hall. 'At least Mon-n-Dad aren't home' The thought brought with it some measure of relief. The last thing she needed now was one or the other asking her what's wrong. They always acted like she had nothing to worry about.

Mallory surveyed her room from the open doorway. Off to the left was her makeup table. She'd been wanting to try that new eye shading technique her aunt had pointed out in Elle. But... 'Nah' didn't really feel up to it. Further along was her entertainment center, but that had already been ruled out. The tall blonde's eyes then fell on her Prom Dress and felt her pulse quicken.

'Ooh!'

With the first sign of life since the scene at Le Cafe', Mallory glided over to her dream dress. Spotted in an exclusive L.A. Boutique the exquisite creation had consumed the rest of her treasured and hoarded Sweet 16 fund. Even then Aunt Helen had to pitch in a considerable amount to secure it. Mallory let her fingers slide down the silky smooth fabric. The temptation became too much to resist.

Within seconds the floor was littered with her “pity party” outfit of t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Free from the stand, the dress felt practically weightless and cool to the touch. Mallory let it fall over her, sticking each arm through the elongated slits before tugging the remaining material over the gentle swell of her hips. The fit and feel proved invigorating. With a squeal she set off into a spin of twirling Onyx folds and waves of blonde hair before launching into an exuberant (if pretend) Disney-esque waltz.

Cool air tickled the exposed skin on Mallory's breasts and thighs as she danced, contrasting greatly from the heat building within. True, the hemline was a modest mid-calf, but the side-slits exposed so much more; especially when she wanted them to. The effect proved hypnotic as the darkest black flashed long tantalizing glimpses of deeply tanned bronze.

With an abrupt end Mallory came to a stop in front of her oversize dressing mirror. From it she could see her chest heaving; breasts alternately straining against yet never parting from the fabric in rapid motion. It put on quite a show and Mallory knew that Peter... or Taylor (She didn't know which would be the lucky one) were bound to be transfixed.

Her breathing gradually slowing, the busty blonde traced the considerable area of pure white bra cups showing due to the dress' low neckline. Doing so highlighted just how much more cleavage this dress was going to show than Mallory usually displayed. It being a special occasion that was fine. On a day to day basis she usually followed her Aunt's advice. As Helen so often preached; “Never offer your best presents half-wrapped.” or “Men will respect you better if they have to earn it.”

Mallory paused. 'Was it respect you better or TREAT you better?'

“Hmmmm.” She was pretty sure it was one or the other.

Anyway, Helen was never what you would call a “Full House” kind of wholesome Aunt. That didn't mean she was wrong, or that Mallory didn't agree with her. Truth be told, the younger Acuff had always thought girls with their boobs practically popping out were trying to hide something or make up for some other shortcoming. Which is why she herself did everything she could to cover just enough to drive the boys crazy.

Her thoughts drifted back to the outfit worn earlier, how seductively the blouse clung in all the right ways, yet only gave a hint at the cleavage within. She still had plenty of tools to work with. Like this morning, pretending to be oblivious when stretching in front of Taylor. She'd practically popped a button, yet could still play innocent. To do it obviously was to be a slut. To do so strategically was to be truly desired.

Case in point would be Janet Palmer. Today she'd paraded around as always with her boobs on display and wearing some tasteless mini. Every bit of rumor and gossip about the girl was fit for the gutter. Even the lustful gazes her way were cheap and dirty. Truth be told Mallory couldn't recall a single nice or complimentary thing spoken about the girl. With her own reputation she never experienced anything but awe and adoration. (At least to her face)

“If only she'd have some class, cover up more... wear some white.”

'Wear some white!'

Mallory's train of thought unexpectedly brought her to the outfit she'd planned for tomorrow. People always make the mistake thinking the first day of school was the most important. Wrong. The first day sets you apart. The second day sets the standard. To that end Mallory chose to dedicate herself.

Free from the Prom dress, (Now safely back on its stand) the shapely 19yr old set to work, further refining day two as a senior. The foundation was already there, via a pair of long white skinny jeans. If you looked closely you could just make out the slightest ghosting of silver print glittering on the surface. It's accompanying desert yellow blouse and matching white jacket really made a statement. That it also resembled the outfit Taylor Swift wore to last week's music awards could be just a happy coincidence. 'Yeah As-if'

Not quite happy with the shoes previously vetted, Mallory selected two more possibilities; one a pair of patent leather pumps, the other some strappy heels. On one hand she thought the heels looked better. On the other, they were nearly four inches high. The tall blonde realized that perhaps she was a bit too tall to wear them at school. Especially since Taylor Barnes in particular apparently hadn't grown a smidge this summer. 'Just my luck Hell I was taller than him in my low heels today!' What would another two inches do?

Mallory judiciously put the heels back on their shelf. 'Better save those for something a bit more intimate'

That decided, she couldn't put off checking her phone any longer. In fact this was the longest she'd been apart from it for nearly a year and the suspense was killing her. 'Shit! It's in the living room' Still clad in just bra and panties, Mallory probably should have put her t-shirt and pajamas back on. The temptation to go as-is, however felt exhilarating. Leaving her room she tiptoed lightly down the hall like some Victoria's Secret bandit. In the wide expanse of the living room she felt truly exposed, bringing goosebumps to her tanned flesh.

Everything remained as she left it, including the uPhone discarded on the couch. It's screen was already lit. 'Hmm Someone must've sent a text or I'd have heard the ringtone' Curiosity outweighing modesty, Mallory stood there to see who sent it.

It was Brit.

Before she could react; get mad, sad, upset, or whatever, her eyes fell upon the tiny little crying kitty emoticon. Brittany never used that except when she was truly down.

Then came the flood of emotions. And for the first time a large part of them felt for her long time friend. They'd been together through a lot over the years; each time ending up closer than before. 'What do I say?' On one hand that necklace meant a lot. On the other, bickering with and alienating Brit would do nothing towards getting it back. Biting her lip, Mallory stood there thumbs at the ready but unsure what to do. In that moment of indecision her eyes scanned the previous message which said simply; “What happened?”

Mallory began typing before she knew it; “I don't know.”

Brit must've been ready. In an instant came a reply; “Talk tomorrow?”

Again her fingers went to work; “Sure” Then paused before adding; “BFF?”

“BFF” Was the only response, but it was enough.

Rattle Click!

(The sound of the front door unlocking)

“Eep!”

Mallory set off in a sprint; her long legs easily powering across the living room and into the hall. It was a lively display of toned flesh and swaying boobs worthy of any Baywatch episode.

Heart pounding, she closed her door as quickly and quietly as possible, before collapsing against it. 'Oops Better shut off the light' With a flick of a switch the room went dark. Mom had a habit of heading straight to her daughter's room to ask about her day. Any light under the door would only serve as an invitation and Mallory was in no mood to accommodate. Sure enough, not ten seconds later came a soft padding down the hallway stopping just outside her door. The girl's heart and breathing practically stopped for a second as Mom paused there. Fortunately the silence within served as a deterrent and muted footfalls soon retreated. 'Whew'



People were better prepared for the steadfast blonde's arrival this morning. Mallory could see the eager faces as she pulled in, causing her eyes to light up behind the dark sunglasses. The heavy-footed throttle while swerving around the speed bumps might've played a roll, but who's to say? Once the Audi found its home nothing happened for a few agonizing seconds inside or out. It was as if time had stopped just for her. You could practically feel the suspense. 'Ok Showtime'

Stepping out of the Audi, the bright September sun lit up Mallory's outfit like a beacon. It practically glowed under the same comforting rays making her golden locks shimmer and dance. (Anyone who said you can't wear white after Labor Day didn't want competition when they themselves did)

Mallory began a sexy strut, marveling at the way the tight denim cradled her ass while hugging her lean thighs to perfection. Long determined strides quickly ate up the distance between her and the school. Seeing the effect she had, tugged the corners of her mouth upward in victory.

But the moment, cherished as it was, wasn't meant to last. A few steps shy of her admirers, Mallory got overwhelmed by a wave of vertigo making her hesitate and stumble. It felt for all the world as if she'd been standing precariously balanced on her tip toes. (Not unlike five years ago, when she'd snuck into her aunt's closet and tried on the woman's five inch heels)

Though it was only a few halting, wobbling steps, the damage was done. There in front of everyone she'd stumbled like a fool; drawing more than a few snickers as a result. Twisting her ring to gain composure, Mallory straightened her posture; chest out and shoulders back, to walk tall and proud past the onlookers. She knew she still made a striking sight … and that's what people will remember... right?


There were a few uncomfortable moments by the stairs between Brit and herself, not to mention a few of the others. But Mallory had steeled herself to get along and tried her best. The boys helped by being utterly clueless, and in no time forced smiles became genuine. Once the outliers saw the way the tide was flowing they too joined in.


The day went pretty much as expected, with everyone falling into their old habits. The usual chatter of gossip and tweets, changed like the wind keeping everyone at least entertained. Mallory, despite herself had a taste for hearing a touch of the negative, and kept her senses on alert for some of the juiciest gossip. 'Not that I enjoy cruelty.' she justified. It was just rewarding when someone got their due.

Along with the day's homework, our favorite blonde picked up plans with Kylie and Ashley to meet up with Jenny and show the girl a good time. If all went well, it would further cement the new member into their clique. Mallory had to admit the girl had good taste in clothing; showing up to school with an outfit nearly rivaling her own.


By Thursday it was obvious Taylor was working up the courage to ask Mallory out. Over the last two days he'd nearly broached the subject on a number of occasions; each time hoping Mallory would connect the dots and give some sort of sign. She was well aware of this, but had no intentions of letting him off the hook. 'Make him earn it'

Besides...

Mallory had been secretly hoping Peter would show some interest. His confidence, easy going manner, not to mention having the body of a Greek God left the hopeful blonde primed, and ready. But no matter how many times the stage seemed set, he'd yet to step up. YET. Although on that note, their was finally a ray of hope. Just before the group broke up this morning, Peter made a cryptic comment about lunch. Mallory said she'd talk to him about it then and walked away. Surely the appreciative and obvious way he'd been ogling her had to be some kind of sign. The walk to first hour felt as if she was in the clouds.

It wasn't until later in the day that things went awry.

At the start of second period Mr. Burnside unexpectedly handed Mallory a note. It was a slip to the office.

“You're excused.” said the teacher; dismissively waving off her expectant look.

After sharing a few curious looks among the others she scooped up her things. 'Why would I be called to the office?'

That answer came about ten minutes later from Mrs. Ferguson, assistant guidance counselor.

“I've been notified you've been missing your gym class.”

The dour looking woman dressed head to toe in differing shades of brown adjusted her glasses pretending to read the document before her.

“In fact it says here you have yet to attend a single session, choosing instead to sit in on Adriana McCleary's study hall.”

Putting down the paper in perfect alignment to the others beside it, the counselor then focused her entire attention upon Mallory, who for the first time in years felt small.

“What do you have to say for yourself? Is our curriculum not up to your liking?”

Mallory could only sit there for a few seconds unable to speak. 'What's wrong? Can't they see my schedule?' It was obviously there, alongside the paper Ferguson just read. Even upside down and at the odd angle she recognized the familiar format. Swallowing hard and giving her ring a twist, she dug into her purse for her copy of the schedule that still resided there. Taking it out, Mallory handed it across the desk.

“I was just following my copy of the schedule. See?”

Accepting the paper, the counselor unfolded it, read it... then snorted in derision. Her gesture to the middle of the page was one of genuine disbelief.

“What, did you have a six year old do this for you?”

The woman tossed the paper back and both watched as it performed a perfect loop de loop before landing squarely in front of the startled teen. Mallory picked it up to examine the thing for herself, though she knew exactly what it read. Only she didn't; not anymore. Instead of the same uniform format as the rest of the page, hour three had a distinctly darker font which read; “Study Hall”. It was obviously a fake, and a poorly done one at that. 'But how can it be?' Mallory recognized it as having been folded her own special way, the same as she'd done since first grade. There were even all the marks and notes she'd written since getting her schedule. But it wasn't the one she'd carried all this time. 'It couldn't be'

“This isn't my schedule.” she half whispered.

Mrs. Ferguson looked smug.

“So you admit it then!”

“Admit what?” Mallory replied, confused.

The older lady shot her a condemning look before poking the paper pointedly.

“For forging your schedule obviously.”

“But I didn't...”

Ferguson held up her hand.

“We'll have none of that young lady. Besides, we're already past that. I've contacted your parents.”

She paused looking smugly down from her much higher chair before continuing.

“I must say they were very understanding.” (Influential) “If you attend your proper classes from now on, no punishment will be sought. If not... ...”

The counselor adopted a very dark and foreboding expression. Mallory could even feel herself shrink back into the chair as the woman leaned forward threateningly.

“Well, I guess that depends upon how much you enjoy summer school!”

“But that's next hour!” Mallory managed to protest. “I don't have any gear with me.”

“I've already talked to your mother. She's bringing in the items you need.”

Mrs. Ferguson swept aside the papers and aligned them perfectly before stuffing them into a red folder. Another set of papers took their place.

“That'll be all, back to your class now.”

Mallory accepted her new pass then headed back to class. Mr. Burnside halted his lecture at the sound of her knock and all eyes watched as the dejected blonde took her seat. Who knew what they were thinking? Hell she didn't know herself.


Mother didn't show up until fifteen minutes into gym class. By then the whole locker room had emptied leaving just the two of them. Mallory didn't waste any time, snatching up the bag the second it was offered. Hopefully Ol' Ferguson would take her mother's role in this into account. Mom for her part hesitated long enough to show a look that this would be discussed later. (Probably at length)

Trying to ignore the hideous pink and purple gym bag from seventh grade, 'Where'd she even find that?' Mallory tore into it praying something far less humiliating would be inside. Out came her trainers, some dated but halfway decent track pants, fresh underwear, hygiene supplies, one of her new sports bras, and a crisp regulation top no doubt just purchased at the spirit store.

“Where's my shorts?” she cried; her words echoing off the bare concrete.

But there was nothing more to be found. The stupid track pants would have to do.

Mallory proceded to disrobe and refit at lightning speed, hoping to avoid an absence or tardy. The sports bra gave her the most trouble. Ones her size had to be more formidable to keep things at bay. Thus a round of careful tucking and prodding was necessary. That finally done, the harried blonde slipped the top over her head and laced up the well broke in trainers.

Mallory half jogged out of the locker room and out to the gymnasium proper. Unsure of what she'd find, she was at least thankful the rush of it all kept her from dwelling on it too much. The whole thing was just too strange.


Perched on the edge of the court, Mallory surveyed the situation. The sport of choice appeared to be volleyball. 'At least its something fun' Six games were currently going on. Half of them were being played by boys, the other half by girls. Apparently in this day of diversity and equality some things still slipped through the cracks. Oh well, at least that gave girls like Mallory a height advantage.

“Acuff! 'Bout time you got here!”

'Fuck! Coach Whitley'

The woman gave a spinning sign with her free hand.

“Five laps Acuff! Then join the far court! Make 'em snappy and you won't be doing it after school!”

Already feeling loose, Mallory did a few stretches and hops just to be sure. No sense pulling anything. She set off around the far edge at a fair clip, taking in the sights. Unfortunately half of what she wanted to see was covered up. Apparently everyone was wearing long pants. Mallory scanned along the girls noting the mixed variety of Track, yoga, and sweat pants. 'Too bad the boys didn't have to wear yoga pants' she mused, checking out Todd Weatherby; the school's varsity quarterback. His chiseled form more than filled out the prerequisite top. Mallory was left to her imagination for what lay below.

“I said SNAPPY! Acuff!”

The leggy (and somewhat turned on) blonde responded, both lengthening and quickening her stride. The coach gave her an approving look. But she wasn't the only one. Several sets of eyes followed her buoyant gait. One boy in particular apparently paid too much attention as a well placed serve bounced off his noggin.

Five laps completed, Mallory headed towards the designated group which fortunately had Brit playing. As she approached, the shoulders of the team opposite her friend sagged.

“No fair!” a couple girls said in unison.

No wonder, Brit was only an inch or so shorter than her. The two of them together would make a formidable front line. But, in a split second fit of mischief Mallory turned and joined the other team.

“Yay!” went a round of applause.

Brit shot her a confused (Yet smiling) look... and stuck out her tongue. The girl loved a challenge.

On Mallory's side, a short-ish brunette eagerly gave up a spot at the net. Taking her place, Mallory squared off, swaying slightly as the opposing team prepared a serve.

Ponk!

The ball came fast and a bit high, but Mallory got a hand on it sending the sphere rocketing to the ground. Something felt off about her landing, but in the round of “high fives” paid it no mind. The next serve soared just over the net off to her left. It was decidedly her teammate's ball, but the cringing girl looked to be no match for it. Leaning over, Mallory swatted the ball. It sailed back but high, almost certainly to be returned. Already looking where, she failed to plant her foot squarely. As a result, the diving girl felt her ankle give, but it gave way too high, and at an odd ankle. With an audible sound Mallory's leg buckled, followed by a sickening;

Bong! As her head contacted the floor with enough force to turn the world black.

When Mallory came to, everything was hazy and out of focus. Concerned voices were all around her and pain emanated from... everywhere. Blinking did little good, and when she tried to sit up, a gentle touch and authoritative command held her to the floor.

“Just stay there.”

The voice was Coach Whitley's, but absent her usual venom.

As things began to clear, bits of conversation became audible.

“What kind of shoes are they anyway?”

“... was she thinking wearing something like that out on the court?”

“No wonder she twisted an ankle!”

“Christie says she caught the whole thing on her phone!”

“No way! Let me see!”

The school nurse eventually arrived to assess the situation. Mallory was asked all sorts of questions;

“Does your neck hurt?”

“Can you move your toes?”

“does anything else hurt?”

'You mean besides my pride?'


Apparently satisfied with the answers and checks, the humiliated blonde was finally allowed to sit up. This was done of course to a round of applause and hoots. 'You'd have thought I'd won the game or something' she thought with a wince. Ok, maybe she wasn't entirely honest with the nurse.

Feeling cold air on her toes, Mallory looked to see her bare feet sticking out of rolled up pant legs. She wiggled them on her own volition this time, barely stifling a grin at the yellow painted digits dancing about. But, something about them struck her as off. Not just her toes, but her whole feet. 'They look smaller' It was true, sure she'd never had large feet, but there was certainly something wrong here. They were more petite now, poking out of the wrinkled nylon. But, even that looked wrong as both appeared closer than they ought to be, as if even her legs were smaller... or shorter, whatever.

It was then the confused girl caught sight of someone bumping an odd shoe around with her foot. It looked like some strange sort of heel/sneaker cross.

“Whose are those?” Mallory asked.

“They're yours.” Some girl she almost recognized said matter of factly.

“Those aren't mine.” she responded automatically.

Whitley and the nurse shared a worried look.

“Maybe she better come to my office.” The nurse said solemnly. “Susan already called her mother.”

Looking down at the now thoroughly bewildered Mallory, the nurse asked;

“Are you ok to walk dear? Or would you like the wheelchair?”

The teen had enough humiliation by now. The last thing she needed was to be paraded around in a wheelchair.

“Uhm, I think I can walk.”

Both Whitley and the nurse knelt down at her side.

“Don't worry if you feel faint. We got you.”

At that, Mallory was hoisted upwards, but only so far. She was about to ask why the pair stopped partway, but it was then she realized she was already standing straight! 'What?! No way!' Those nearby stood as tall or more so. In a desperate move to rectify the situation, she put extra pressure on her foot.

“OW!”

“Easy there!” Whitley chastised. "i don't think you're ready for sprinting just yet!”

The humor was meant to calm the injured girl down. But for Mallory looking squarely forward at Brittney's mouth, it could've been the theme for Jaws playing instead.

Brittney looked no less surprised, staring at the diminished form of the girl she'd looked up to for so long. (In more ways than one) Her mind was trying to accept what she was seeing and coming up short. 'How has Mal pulled this off for so long?' she wondered. Memories at the beach and of sleepovers past appeared strangely cloudy at the moment. 'She wasn't that much shorter than me, was she?'

Britney's thoughts were interrupted by the two officials leading her friend away. She seemed so small nestled between them.

[Tornasunder]

This might not be the way I'll go. The end of this at least needs a rewrite.

I'm also not sure about the shrinking. ..

We'll see.

The challenge is having one change flow to another.

Any thoughts?

[Adobeman10]

I loved the shrinking part-I think it fits- especially when you have established her height as one of the things that made her so arrogant. Having her lose inches, size (at least height wise)-now when she gains a few, it will be much more noticeable. To be on the cusp of woman-hood and tall and haughty-to smaller and petite has to mess with the confidence. I cant wait til she starts losing other assets very soon. Eagerly anticipating the next chapter.

[allthosecurves]

I agree with Adobeman. The change in height fits really well with narrative from the first two chapters. I loved how everyone thought it was ridiculous that she'd wear platform heels in gym class. Britney's reaction ('How has Mal pulled this off for so long?') was well-written. I think most people will now assume she's been wearing high heels to look taller than she actually is.

[colt361]

I am loving this story so far, the shrinking scene was really well written, I may be wrong but it seems like she is going to gain some weight through her mentioning how her other friends gained weight, but also seems like she is going to lose some modesty as well when she thought about Janet Palmer and how that girl dresses slutely, I hope that is the case we don't really have a lot of stories where a girl gains weight and dresses like a slut to try and regain that attention. But this may be just wishful thinking, anyway I am enjoying the story and I feel that any route that you choose will fit the story perfectly, I cannot wait for more.

[Matt L.]

Nice and neatly written, very intelligently written actually. The dialogue is especially crisp and realistic.
Fantastic stuff!

Cheers, Matt

[Adobeman10]

This was great-are you continuing? I can't wait for the next installment

[Tornasunder]

I have the next post roughed out.

I was planning on finishing it up tonight after work... so perhaps about 10pm tonight