Under the Mistletoe (SW)

Under the Mistletoe (SW)

Postby mercutio » Mon Dec 10, 2012 5:53 am

Under The Mistletoe

By Nomdreserv


Stacy checked her appearance in the mirror at the door. She was obviously perturbed and seemed dispirited, despite the festive green and red scarf she had added to her usual business clothes as a token of the season. It was bad enough that her new job kept her from traveling back home to be with her family over Christmas, but to actually have to work Christmas Eve made it seem even worse. She looked at her glum reflection and sighed.

“Ho, ho, ho,” she mumbled.

“And a merry Christmas to you too,” Gwen answered unexpectedly.

Stacy turned to find her roommate, still dressed in her nightshirt and socks, the way she often spent the morning. (And Stacy thought her nightshirts kept getting a little shorter and more revealing, though she resisted confronting Gwen as to why.) Today, she had added a brightly-colored holiday sticking cap that together with her short stature made her look like a sexy Christmas elf.

They were an odd couple, although they’d been close friends since meeting at the end of college. Stacy was tall, blonde, and slim, and seemed even taller since her tightly controlled nature kept her body as upright as her carefully planned professional career. Gwen was short, dark, and tended towards the voluptuous side, as the large, heavy breasts jiggling beneath her shirt attested. She was officially a graphic designer, but tended to do mostly freelance work out of their apartment, leaving her with irregular hours and (Stacy thought) far too much free time.

“I made you coffee,” Gwen offered a traveling mug. “Christmas blend.”

“Thanks,” Stacy answered. She couldn’t resist feeling a little miffed that Gwen, who was a devout agnostic, had the day free while she had to work. “I didn’t think you went in for this sort of holiday.”

“This sort of holiday is exactly what I enjoy,” Gwen answered cheerily. “Solstice festivals are popular the world over. I don’t mind enjoying whatever traditions get attached to them.” She took a sip of her own mug. “Especially when they involve cinnamon.”

“Figures,” Stacy grumbled.

“You don’t sound merry,” Gwen teased, wagging her finger. “I may have to work some Christmas magic on you.”

“Still with that magic stuff?” Stacy snorted, giving in to the urge to vent frustrations. “You know that garbage is a complete waste of time, don’t you? I can’t believe you throw your time and money away like that. Maybe if you had a real job, you’d understand that, not to mention being able to help pay…” She froze, realizing she’d gone too far, and instantly regretting it. “Oh, Gwen, I’m sorry.”

Gwen’s smile had frozen. “It’s OK,” she lied. “I know you pay more than your fair share around here. I’ll…I’ll try to get a few more regular contracts next month, and…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stacy smiled a little too forcefully. “You’re an artist, and I love your work. I wouldn’t change it or us for anything. I'm just grumpy because I have to work. It’s hard not to think about how much nicer Christmas was when you’re little.”

To reinforce her apology, Stacy came over to hug her friend tightly. She didn’t notice how Gwen seemed to flush at the embrace, or more particularly, how Gwen’s eyes had lit up at the last part, but she did notice Gwen seemed to hug her even more tightly back, and became very aware of how soft and full Gwen’s large breasts felt against her body, especially with only the thin fabric of her shirt between them. With shock, she realized how much she was enjoying the feeling, rubbing herself slightly to accentuate it, and even fantasizing what it would be like to feel her nipples perking up against her. She broke the embrace uncomfortably, feeling a little flushed and disconcerted herself. Gwen looked up at her with emotion in her eyes.

“Stacy, I …”

“Yeah, I’d better get to work,” Stacy blustered. “I’ll, um, call, and we’ll plan something for tonight, OK? Just a little dinner or something.”

Gwen was still looking at her, wanting to say something. Suddenly, she smiled and gestured above Stacy’s head.

“Stacy, you’re under the mistletoe. I get a kiss.”

Stacy feeling more embarrassed and uncomfortable than ever, suppressed her first reaction of excitement and laughed nervously. She glanced up at the small bundle of glossy leaves and ivy tied into a decorative ball and hung from the ceiling. (Gwen had insisted on real mistletoe from one of her New Age shops.)

“That might be true if I was really under the mistletoe, Gwenny.” She took a quick half step to the side. “But I’m not really under it.” Another nervous laugh. “When you come right down to it, I could never really be under the mistletoe, could I? I mean, I might be near the mistletoe, or sort of standing below the mistletoe, but not under it. You’d have to have a gigantic mistletoe bush or something, right?” She held her hands far apart as though to encompass an imagined bushel of the evergreen.

Gwen just looked at her thoughtfully, and Stacy cleared her throat, still trying to make it a joke.

“So, if I was really under the mistletoe, I’d have to kiss you.” A slightly wistful or uncertain pause. “So, um, let me know if you find that mistletoe tree or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Gwen echoed. She tried to smile carelessly. “You know, the mistletoe was considered magical for centuries.”

Stacy grimaced. She was in no mood for one of Gwen’s “magic and mysticism” ramblings.

“I wish you wouldn’t waste so much time on that magic crap,” she sermonized. “Life’s too short.”

“Short.” Gwen echoed thoughtfully, then startled, and suddenly ran towards her room. “Wait!” There was a rustling noise as she rummaged inside, and then she reappeared holding a small box. “I wanted to give you your present.”

“Gwen!” Stacy protested. “I wanted to wait until tomorrow! Come on! Christmas morning and everything.”

“I’ll have something else for you tomorrow,” Gwen promised, her eyes twinkling. “I want you to have this today.”

Stacy opened the box to find a small pendant consisting of a silver chain and a beautiful crystalline lattice in a snowflake pattern about an inch in diameter. Tiny sparkles around the lattice edge might have represented flecks of jewels, though Stacy wasn’t sure it they were just a trick of the light.

“Oh, Gwen,” she cooed. “It’s beautiful.”

“I had it made especially for you,” Gwen beamed.

“Oh, gosh, Gwen, I …” Stacy was at a loss for words, both from joy at the gift, unexpected emotion, and a touch of guilt for the sweater she had earmarked for Gwen. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, then,” Gwen replied. “Just wear it for me today.”

Stacy was only too glad to comply, and immediately put the necklace on. She loved the way it glinted magically with its reflected light.

“It’s beautiful,” she said happily.

“Just like the one wearing it,” Gwen murmured.

Stacy blushed again, and awkwardly gave Gwen another hug before leaving. She really loved the gift, and kept stealing glances at it on her way to work. She was so obsessed, she could almost feel a tingle where the beautiful trinket touched her.

Many “Merry Christmas” and “Happy Holidays” greeted her at the office, and she lost a little of her self-pity when she saw how many other people had to work as well, and how cheerfully they carried on. She realized how spoiled she’d gotten from school schedules of automatic time off around the holidays, though that did little to improve her own mood. Only Gwen’s gift really cheered her up, and it was distinctive enough that it caught more than her own eye.

“That’s nice,” Vicky, another first-year employee who’d come to naturally associate with Stacy noted as they stood together getting coffee. “Boyfriend?”

Stacy blushed again. “No. My roommate, Gwen.”

Vicky’s eyebrows raised. “Makes me wish I had a roommate.” She paused, looking more carefully at Stacy. “New shoes or something?”

“What?” Stacy was puzzled. “No, I’ve had these for at least a year. Why?”

Vicky shrugged, once more looking her over and stopping to notice their relative eye level. “Nothing. You just looked different somehow.”

“Odd,” Stacy thought as she went back to her cubicle. Though come to think of it, her shoes did feel a little odd today. Looser. Maybe they’d stretched out the last time she’d gotten them wet or something. She sat at her desk and noticed she could slip them off without any effort at all.

The rest of the morning passed without much incident. The only annoying factor was that Stacy found herself making more mistakes with her typing as the day progressed. The keyboard and mouse felt odd to her, and she kept shifting around in her seat to get comfortable. As noon approached, she decided to take her lunch break and stood up from her chair, stretching. Something about her desk and cubicle struck her as odd, but Vicky’s brief appearance distracted her.

“Hey, we may be able to…” She stopped, looking puzzled, her eyes moving up and down over Stacy’s form. Then, her expression brightened. “Oh, I see now – you’ve lost weight. That’s what’s different.”

“What?” Stacy asked, surprised. If anything, she thought she might be up a pound or two from the treats Gwen kept fixing “to tempt her.”

Vicky just nodded knowingly. “Good idea. Most people gain over the holidays. You should treat yourself to a couple of new outfits or something. Anyway, I wanted to let you know we may be able to cut out early. I’ve been playing up to Jim all morning, and I think it paid off. He said he’d cover. Check with me after lunch.”

Vicky disappeared, leaving Stacy somewhat perplexed. However, now that her attention had been drawn there, she could see why Vicky thought she’d lost weight. Her clothes actually looked a size or two too large, hanging and sagging slightly on her frame. She pulled her jacket across her chest, easily drawing an extra few inches of fabric in her hands. Wow! She really had lost some weight! Losing weight unexpectedly was like found money – exciting, even exhilarating far beyond the actual amount. She immediately decided she would take Vicky’s advice and do some shopping for some unexpected Christmas presents to herself. She gathered her purse and walked out, so excited at the feel of her looser shirt and jacket, that she didn’t notice the way her jacket sleeves had crept past her wrists, or the increasing looseness of her shoes.

The store confirmed her highest expectations – she was down a full 2 sizes! She tried on a rather daring skirt that had been featured in the store window, but was disappointed that it looked less exciting on her than it had on the mannequin. It had looked about mid thigh length on the model, but easily reached her knees in real life. A denim jacket also looked a little too big and dowdy. She tried on several more items, but her elation over her weight loss was tempered by the poor fit of the clothes. The shirts seemed just a little too full, the skirts too long – even the jeans she tried on dragged the floor, although she’d checked and rechecked the inseam length. She was grumbling about the clothes while examining another jacket that seemed to swallow her up and a clerk overheard her.

“Yes,” the woman agreed. “Many of our petite customers say the same thing. You might find a more suitable selection in the Misses department.

Stacy looked at her as though she were crazy. She hadn’t shopped in the Misses area since high school. She wondered if it was meant as some kind of insult. The woman was young, probably her own age, and close to her build, but several inches taller. Since Stacy was a little taller than average herself, the woman must be close to six feet herself. In fact, now that she noticed it, most of the employees were taller than she was. That was weird. Just because the store had so many unusually tall clerks, they didn’t have to make cracks about the customers.

“Just looking,” she said frostily.

The clerk shrugged. “No problem.”

On her way back to the office, Stacy passed a shoe store and considered treating herself to a pair of boots instead. She saw a nice pair in black leather and walked in, giving her size to a woman who came to greet her. A minute later, she was trying them on.

Once more, she was disappointed. They didn’t fit well, seeming too loose and long. The clerk tapped the toe and ran her finger along the top.

“I think you need a smaller size,” she informed her.

Stacy was exasperated. One thing she knew, losing weight didn’t affect your shoe size. She pulled the boots off and gave up. It was one of those days when nothing looked good.

To console herself, she bought a large gingerbread latte at the corner shop. At least she could reward her weight loss with another kind of treat.

“Wow, these really are huge,” she thought, carrying the large cup back to the office. She settled back into the office, then got up to examine her chair. Someone must have used it and readjusted it while she was out. She dropped it to its lowest setting, but still thought it seemed too tall, leaving her feet just touching the floor. Whoever had used it must have broken it. Her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Stace,” Gwen’s voice greeted her. “Feeling better yet?”

“Still sucks being here,” she grumbled, but without much rancor.

“You should have called in,” Gwen suggested, sounding a little nervous. “So, um, is everything OK?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Stacy said, wondering at the question. “Is there something I should know?”

“No, no,” Gwen replied, sounding relieved. “Just checking. You want pasta or just veggies tonight?”

“For Christmas Eve? Are you kidding?” Stacy shot back. “I want pasta with your alfredo sauce – the full butter version. And dessert. Maybe even desserts.”

Gwen giggled. “Someone’s feeling reckless.”

“Hey, turns out I'm down a few pounds, girlfriend. Break out those mocha truffles and stand back.”

There was a moment of silence. “Down a few … pounds, huh?” A nervous laugh. “Some people have all the luck. OK, I think I’ll have a couple of surprises for you tonight.”

Stacy went back to work, but found her problems of the morning just got worse. The keyboard felt all wrong, and her fingers kept hitting the wrong keys. She was sure it was due to her resentment for being at work and her eagerness to start vacation. She went to kick her chair back in frustration, and surprised herself when her feet wouldn’t reach the floor. Instead, her shoes went flying. Muttering imprecations against her plight, she hopped off the rebellious chair and crawled under the desk to retrieve them. She came back out just in time to find Vicky.

“Hey, great news!” she announced perkily. “We can…”

She trailed off, looking at Stacy in shock. There was no disguising the discrepancy in their heights now, Vicky looking a good 8 inches taller.

“What the hell?” Vicky asked. “What happened to you?”

Stacy looked at her in equal surprise, but then the obvious explanation presented herself. She held her shoes up triumphantly.

“Lost these. Guess heels really do make the woman,” she joked.

Vicky looked at Stacy, her baggy clothes, and then the low heels in her hand uncertainly, then shrugged. It didn’t make sense, but all that mattered to her right now was getting home for the holiday. She sang her goodbye and joined the lucky workers already heading home.

Stacy slipped her heels on (all too easily), then shifted her feet back and forth nervously. They felt even looser than before, and now she had to shrug her jacket back up to keep the sleeves from covering her hands. Could the weather or humidity be affecting her clothes? The alternative, of course, was out of the question.

But it was a question that kept recurring. She found that she had to adjust the seat and mirror in her car. That could also be nervousness, but she caught herself looking at her hands carefully as she drove home. Except for the loose sleeves that framed them, they looked completely normal. Maybe it was just her imagination.

She got home to find that Gwen was out, presumably shopping. She went to her room and gratefully stripped out of her work clothes, choosing a favorite baggy sweatshirt and pants to relax in. The sweatshirt seemed baggier than ever tonight, however, and she didn’t remember the sleeves hanging this way. The pants were even worse. Even tying the drawstring tightly barely kept them up (confirming the good news about her weight loss), and since they kept slipping, the cuffs kept covering her feet. She pulled them off, and noticed that her sweatshirt hung to mid thigh level anyway. On a whim, she decided to wear just that. Gwen wasn’t the only one who could walk around half dressed.

She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and walked barefoot into the kitchen to make herself some tea, but found she had to stretch to reach the teapot on the second shelf. She stopped to look around, once more feeling that slight disorientation. The kitchen just didn’t look quite right around her. The counters, the drawers – everything was off just a little. Even the mug felt too big in her hand as she filled it with tea. Shaking her head, she carried her cup into the main room and stretched out on the couch to relax and read her book.

The couch felt bigger and softer than ever, and she stretched out to her full length with room to spare. Apparently, it was even more comfortable than she’d thought at first, for before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep.

She awoke with a start as the door closed and she heard a noise in the hall. Startled, she jumped and sat up. Her first surprise was that she didn’t quite see over the edge of the couch, the second was how much longer the couch looked. It was like looking at it in widescreen or something. She shook her head, wondering if she was dreaming.

“This is so weird,” she announced. She swung her legs around to stand up, and stopped in shock. Her feet barely stuck over the edge of the couch, and her legs didn’t even come close to the floor. Her heart raced. “Oh my God!” she squealed.

Gwen had dropped her groceries and raced into the room. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m … I …” Stacy stuttered, trailing off into disjointed squeaking sounds. She slid forward numbly to drop to the floor, hardly believing the fact that her legs wouldn’t reach even sitting at the edge. She felt her sweatshirt sag over her body, the bottom reaching her knee and the sleeves covering her hands. She blinked in disbelief and looked up at Gwen.

And then she squeaked again.

She was really looking up at Gwen. Any remaining doubts about what was happening were dispelled as she found herself craning her neck to look into Gwen’s face. Her short roommate towered over her by almost a foot. She stood in disbelief, her mouth gaping.

“Oh my gosh!” Gwen gasped. “You are just too cute.”

Stacy was still too stunned to notice Gwen’s apparent lack of shock. She looked her suddenly statuesque roommate up and down, then looked at the oversized couch that came above her waist, and her own increasingly baggy clothes. She swallowed hard.

“OK, Gwen, don’t panic,” she said, feeling an unnatural calmness come over her. “I … I know it’s impossible, but I think I might be …”

“Shrinking,” Gwen finished for her. “Yeah, I know.” She turned away. “Let me get that bag with the eggs. I think I might have broken a couple of them.”

Stacy again dropped her mouth in disbelief as she watched her roommate calmly walk away. She stared for at least 10 seconds as Gwen began putting things away before finding her voice.”

“Excuse me?” she demanded, feeling her voice move up into an unexpectedly high register. “You know? You know?” she repeated, all but shrieking.

Gwen looked up without concern and held out a couple of bottles of wine. “You want the Chardonnay or the Riesling with the pasta?”

Stacy stalked into the room, trying to ignore the surreal appearance of the gigantic room around her. “Never mind the fucking wine!” she shouted. “What the hell is happening to me?”

“You’re shrinking,” Gwen replied calmly. “And you’re going to keep shrinking until …” She nibbled on a stalk of celery while considering. “Well, I'm not entirely sure how long. But a while anyway.” She put the other vegetables into the crisper and handed Stacy the Riesling. “Would you mind open opening this while I start dinner?”

Stacy’s mouth was hanging open a lot now, but she couldn’t believe what Gwen was saying. She barely noticed how much larger and heavier the bottle felt as she automatically took it. “People don’t shrink,” she protested.

Gwen giggled and knelt down to bring their faces closer together, patting her head.

“I have to disagree…Shorty.”

Stacy was once reduced to staring helplessly. Her tone became more plaintive. “How? Why?”

“How, hmm,” Gwen pondered as she filled the pot for the pasta. “I was never very good at the mechanics. Magic, of course. In the necklace I gave you.” Stacy reflexively grabbed at the pendant’s chain, her fingers tightening until white. She only now realized that the necklace still felt exactly the same size, and was shrinking with her. She started to pull it off in a panic.

“No!” Gwen ordered instantly, reaching out and easily overpowering her pint-sized companion. “The magic’s already inside you. Better to leave the necklace on to help stabilize it.” She paused guiltily. “Sometimes it can get a little unstable otherwise.”

Stacy dropped the chain as though burned. “Unstable?” she echoed. “It could get worse?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Why?” she asked plaintively.

Gwen needed more time to consider that one.

“I thought you … we needed a change. Something to sort of shake things up.”

Stacy had slumped against a chair for support, disconcerted to find that she couldn’t sit down unless she wanted to climb up onto like a little girl first. Instead, she just leaned against the tall legs and seat.

“And you decided to shrink me?”

“You’re always so … controlled and uptight,” Gwen offered apologetically, looking for the right words. “I thought this would give you some new perspectives.”

Stacy seemed to shrink even more as she slumped. She covered her face with her hands, still hidden within the sleeves of her sweatshirt, unwilling to look at the giant room around her. “Perspectives. Unbelievable. This is all just fucking unbelievable.”

“See, you’re loosening up and using new language already,” Gwen laughed. A pause, and then more quietly. “Who knows what else we’ll get you to try before the night is over?”

“Magic,” Stacy mumbled over and over. “Impossible. Unbelievable.”

“I tried to get you to come with me when I started visiting those shops,” Gwen joked. You thought I was kidding about real magic.”

Stacy’s hands suddenly flew away and her eyes went very wide. “Oh my god! How can I face anyone like this? I’m a freak!”

“Relax,” Gwen calmed her. “It’s temporary. You’ll be back to normal by work on Monday.”

“How small will I get?”

Gwen hesitated, then held her hand up about 6 inches above the countertop.

Stacy shrieked again and collapsed onto the floor.

Immediately, Gwen was by her side, gently lifting her and comforting her.

“Relax, honey. You’ll be fine. I tried this out myself while you were on that business trip last month. It was fantastic! You wouldn’t believe how much fun it is walking around while the world changes around you. It’s an adventure –like nothing you’ve ever experienced. And I’ll be here to help you. You’re completely safe.”

She lifted Stacy’s head lovingly and stared into her eyes, radiating reassurance, and was relieved to see some of the panic draining from them. Secretly, she thrilled at how small her friend’s face was, and how much different she looked as she lost height.

“Come on,” Gwen urged. “You believe in Christmas magic, don’t you?”

Stacy laughed a little in spite of herself, rubbing away nascent tears with her baggy sleeve. “This isn't what I meant,” she protested, smiling just a touch. There was just something so comforting about Gwen, just something there that she always seemed to need. “And it’s temporary?” she demanded.

“Absolutely. We can change you back tomorrow if you want.” She added in a barely audible voice. “But tonight, you’re mine.”

“What?” Stacy asked, pulling away a little.

“Um, I said open the wine,” Gwen lied. “Let’s get the party started.”

Stacy moved as though in a fog. Still barely comprehending what had happened, only her complete trust in Gwen allowed her to accept it so calmly. She tried to look at it as Gwen had suggested – an adventure.

And it was certainly amazing. The kitchen had already transformed into another world. She was only slightly above countertop height, so she guessed she was about 4 feet tall. That was enough to make everything – and everyone, though she only had Gwen to compare herself to – seem gigantic. It was almost like being a little kid in an adult’s world again.

She found she had to stand on tiptoe to see into the drawer for the wine screw, and it felt unnaturally large in her hand, the slim wooden handle as thick as a broomstick. It was also all she could do to actually open the wine, and she only belatedly realized that with her height she’d lost a lot of strength. She actually felt a surge of triumph as she pulled the cork free.

“Ha!” she called, holding the cork aloft. It looked about the size of a pickle to her, and the wine bottle itself felt and weighed more like one of those oversized magnums of champagne.

The wine glasses themselves proved a more difficult problem. She found that even on tiptoe she could no more than open the cabinet door that held the glasses. Gwen watched her struggle and giggled a little.

“I told you those shelves were too high,” she joked.

“Oh, ha ha,” Stacy shot back. “Shrinking me so you can make short jokes. Very good. Nice to know magic is such a practical hobby for you. How about giving me a hand?” She held out her arm imperiously and stopped Gwen in mid clap, continuing without even taking a breath. “And if you clap your hands to be funny, I’ll go lock myself in my room until this wears off.”

To her surprise, instead of simply reaching the glasses down herself, Gwen lent a hand more physically, reaching down to scoop Stacy up and hold her high enough to reach the glasses.

“Can you reach them now?” Gwen asked solicitously.

Stacy was acutely aware of Gwen’s hand cupping her bottom as she held her aloft. It seemed to send a pulse of warmth through her, distracting her for a couple of seconds.

“Um, yeah, sure,” she finally answered, grabbing two glasses. For one extra second, she enjoyed the feeling of literally being in her friend’s hands, and then she cleared her throat. “You can put me down now.”

“See, there’s something I could never normally do,” Gwen suggested.

Stacy was feeling a flush in her cheeks. “Um, yeah.” She shook herself consciously back to indignation. “Of course, normally, I wouldn’t need any help reaching down the glasses.”

“Details, details,” Gwen muttered, going back to cooking. “Pour the wine, short stuff.”

Stacy did so, marveling at the apparent size of the glasses. She had to climb onto a chair to set the glasses on the table and fill them, then turned to look around the kitchen again. The ceiling seemed 20 feet high, the table was fit for a banquet room, and the chairs felt more like stately wooden thrones. She again noticed the high counters, the massive stove, and …

And there was Gwen, cooking happily, and looking like an amazon out of some adventure story. To Stacy’s eyes, she seemed like she must be 8 feet tall, and she’d just had an example of how strong she was at their relative sizes. Not only was it a complete reversal of their normal relationship, but she realized she would be completely helpless if Gwen decided to use that size advantage.

And that gave her another shiver. She cleared her throat.

“So, um, need any help?”

“Set the table?”

“Sure.”

Stacy was again confronted with living in an expanding world as she struggled to get down the plates. This time, she dragged a chair over, struggling with its weight, rather than asking for Gwen’s help. Then she wrangled the platter-sized plates down, and gathered the double-sized utensils. She held up a fork that looked like it should be used to toss salads.

“So, I can still eat normally and everything?’ she asked.

Gwen nodded. “Except less, of course. But that’s a bonus. You feel full with half the food. It’s like the world’s easiest diet.” She drained the pasta and added the sauce. “There, we’ll just let that thicken.” She smiled again as her eyes moved to Stacy’s shoulder. “Looks like you’re outgrowing that shirt.”

Stacy only now realized just how baggy and oversized the shirt had become. It hung past her knees, and the top was beginning to slip over her shoulder, leaving it bare (accounting for Gwen’s stare) and the shirt itself askew and increasingly precarious. She pulled it modestly back into place.

“Guess I’d better change.”

“Me too,” Gwen agreed. “I like the causal look. Let’s make this a pajama party.”

“I doubt any of mine will fit,” Stacy objected. She held her arms out with the too long sleeves flopping over her hands.

Gwen simply stared for a second, her eyes glinting. “Not a problem,” she finally suggested. “I’ll bring you something.”

Stacy could tell she was still shrinking as she had to climb down out of the chair. The counters were now just above eye level, and she figured she had to be around 3 feet tall, almost exactly half size. Her shirt hung on her like a sack, and nearly brushed the floor. She trudged back to her room as though dragging a tent around her neck.

Inside, she started to wrestle the oversized shirt over her head, then dropped it again, getting an idea. She easily withdrew her arms through the gigantic sleeves, then brought them out through the oversized neck opening. Sure enough, a little tug to get it past her shoulders, and another to ease it by her breasts, and the shirt dropped around her. She could actually step out through the top. She giggled a bit as the shirt crumpled around her feet.

“First time I've been able to lose my shirt that way,” she murmured.

She turned to look at herself in the bureau mirror, but found she was too short, even when stretching, to see anything but her head. Instead, she had to walk over to the full-length mirror on her closet door.

The reflection that met her eye was extraordinary and disconcerting. At first, she had the fleeting impression of a child dressing in her big sister’s underwear, but a second inspection revealed the full curves of a grown woman, and of course, if she concentrated on just her face, she looked exactly the same.

But it was impossible to look just there. In addition to being dwarfed by the room itself, her own clothes betrayed her. Now that she’d lost the oversized sweatshirt, she could see how comically large her underwear was. Her bra hung loose and unevenly across her chest, the cups still perched over her breasts but almost empty, her small but still perfectly shaped breasts easily visible around the frame and deflated cups. Her panties hung lopsided and low, the elastic barely keeping them on her shrunken hips. In fact, she suspected just a little jump would drop them around her ankles.

She looked at her own closet hopelessly. Not only were most of the clothes just as ridiculously outsized, but most of them were now out of reach as well. Even her underwear drawer was only accessible on tiptoe, and she made a fetching sight as she stretched and peeked desperately into the open drawer, looking for something small and forgotten. Just as she was thinking about resorting to a safety pin to secure her panties, she heard a voice behind her.

“Wow. I've got my Christmas present.”

She whirled to find Gwen regarding her with a thoughtful and affectionate smile. The movement nearly cost her the loose panties, and she realized that they must have been riding low enough to give Gwen a look at about half of her behind. She blushed and tugged them modestly back into place, though they almost immediately settled low on her hips again, leaving her neatly trimmed pubes peeking above the waistband. She also tried to adjust her bra to contain her plum-sized breasts, but the cups were just too large and loose to stay in place.

“I’ve always wanted to find a way to get you out of your clothes,” Gwen added.

The way she said it made Stacy doubt a purely humorous content. She used both hands in trying to arrange her sagging underwear more decorously.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” Gwen scolded. “It’s just us girls, remember?” She had changed into a sleeping shirt herself, and now pulled it saucily up to flash her own breasts. “See? Same same. Now relax.”

Stacy was staring despite her discomfort and shyness. Gwen had always had larger breasts, full and round and voluptuous, but now they seemed truly gigantic. They looked to be the size of beach balls from Stacy’s viewpoint, huge and dominating, like the personification of the female form. She also couldn’t help noticing the way the nipples seemed to perk up in the exposed air, but was surprised to find her own responding the same way, as though answering the challenge. Gwen dropped her shirt, releasing Stacy from her spell.

“There. Feel better?”

Stacy’s mouth was dry. “Um…”

“And here.” Gwen tossed a small t-shirt at her. “I though you might need this.”

It was a child’s size, but Stacy realized with some embarrassment that it was still a little big for her. She tried to readjust her bra into a stable position before putting it on.

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Gwen chastised her. “Forget about that bra! You don’t even need one at full size.”

Before she could react, Gwen had closed the small distance between them and grabbed the bra. Despite Stacy’s strongest effort, she easily overpowered her and pulled it over her head. Stacy was reduced (literally) to jumping angrily and fruitlessly while Gwen dangled it above her head.

“Give that back!” she demanded, feeling helpless and humiliated. As if the physical embarrassment wasn’t enough, she could tell how high her voice was becoming, especially when she got upset.

Gwen seemed amused at the tantrum, and also seemed to take considerable delight in watching Stacy’s tiny breasts bounce with her jumping. Suddenly, she raised an eyebrow as though waiting for Stacy to notice something.

“What?” Stacy asked in frustration, slightly out of breath.

Gwen’s eyes simply settled slightly lower, and Stacy suddenly realized that her jumping had been the last straw for her sagging panties. They now lay in a puddle on the floor, and she was completely naked in front of her roommate.

She squeaked, and dropped to reclaim the, but Gwen was too fast, immediately kicking them across the room. She ran after them, but Gwen intervened yet again, literally sweeping her off her feet.

“Hey!’ she complained, kicking helplessly at her captor.

“Stop being so ridiculous,” Gwen scolded. “I’ve seen you naked before, and those panties are really useless at this size. What are you going to do, glue them on?”

Stacy’s struggles faded. They really were pretty useless at this size. She suddenly became acutely aware instead of Gwen’s hands on her very naked skin, in particular, where they held her upper legs and back.

“At least put me down,” she insisted.

“Done,” Gwen acceded gracefully, giving a little bow as she returned Stacy to the floor. She retrieved the t-shirt. “Milady’s gown.”

“Hmmph.” Stacy accepted the shirt. At least it would cover her and fit better than her own clothes. She pulled it on and checked how exposed she was underneath. “Well, it’s better than nothing,” she admitted. “But I’ll probably be flashing you all night.”

“Only if I'm lucky,” Gwen whispered.

They went back into the kitchen and settled at the table. Stacy had to climb into her chair, which felt as wide as a bench underneath her, and found that even sitting up straight, she couldn’t quite see over the tabletop. Gwen finally set a thick book underneath her so that Stacy could reach her plate and they could see each other. Stacy found she could barely handle the silverware, each piece feeling huge and heavy, and getting more and more ponderous as she continued to shrink during the meal. The fork alone seemed to weigh 5 pounds by the time they finished their pasta. Gwen’s prediction about portions had been borne out as well. As delicious as the food was, Stacy could barely eat more than mouthful compared to Gwen. Each strand of fettuccini seemed as thick and wide as a lasagna noodle to her. The baby carrots seemed as big as … well, let’s just say that their phallic implications had never seemed so obvious. Bringing the wine glass to her lips was like trying to drink from a bucket, and she could have worn one of the rolls for a hat.

Stacy was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as the meal progressed and she still shrank. Already, her new shirt was getting loose, sagging slowly over her tiny shoulders and past her knees in length, and even the book couldn’t keep her head above the table level. In exasperation, and perhaps emboldened by the wine (hey, you try drinking a full bucket of wine sometime!), she finally climbed right on top the table itself, though she had some difficulty, since she was closer now to two feet in height rather than three. She had to actually crawl onto the table since she was too short to step up, even from her improvised booster seat. She arranged her child-sized t-shirt around her like a blanket and settled in next to the coffee cup.

“So,” she said, gesturing at herself. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Partly,” Gwen answered carefully, taking another sip of her own wine.

“Why?” Stacy asked again.

Gwen hesitated, then finished off her wine in a nervous gulp.

“I thought it would be interesting, and …”

“Bullshit!” Stacy cut her off, knowing her roommate too well to be misled.

Gwen took a deep breath. “Stace, there are a few things I want to talk to you about.”

“And you thought I’d listen better at doll size?”

“Yes. Well, no. you’d listen, but …” She paused, and her inner struggle was obvious. “That stuff I said before about perspectives and control – that was true. I … I think you’re going to like this. I really do.” The pleading and hope in her eyes made them glisten. “But, I'm not sure you’d yourself do this normally.”

“Yes?” Stacy prompted, obviously nervous.

“But if you couldn’t help it,” Gwen blurted. “And then, when you realized I was … that it was right, you wouldn’t mind, and we could … could …”

“What?” Stacy demanded, beginning to guess the answer and feeling a sudden warmth and chill at the same time.

Gwen didn’t answer, seeming still to be arguing with herself. She took a long, deep breath and then slowly exhaled, the force of her breath a strong wind to Stacy at her new size. It ruffled her oversized shirt, and also touched her naked skin beneath it. Stacy giggled.

“That tickles,” she laughed.

Gwen’s eyes lit up, and she seemed to make her decision. “Stacy, your shirt’s getting way too big again,” she advised.

“Well, who’s fault is that?” Stacy said accusingly, holding out her arms and seeing the baggy short sleeves almost swallow them. “Besides, I don’t have anything else to wear.”

“You don’t need anything,” Gwen suggested quietly.

Stacy froze. Their eyes met. She flushed and dropped her gaze.

“So, um, are we having dessert?” she asked nervously.

“I certainly am,” Gwen said.

She reached a giant hand forward and actually made Stacy squeak in nervousness before realizing she was reaching past her to a plate of frosted brownies. She set one down for herself and one next to Stacy.

Stacy stared in amazement at a brownie the size of sheet pizza and 6 inches thick.

“Too much?” Gwen asked solicitously.

“I’ll let you know,” Stacy answered, her mouth already full with a handful of delicious chocolate and mint.

Of course, she couldn’t come close to finishing it, especially as she continued shrinking. She watched nervously as her shirt sagged around her, and soon the neck slipped around her shoulders, barely held up by her breasts. She realized she had chocolate around her mouth, and reached for a napkin the size of a bed sheet.

“Here, let me,” Gwen offered, dipping the corner of her napkin in some water and gently moving it around Stacy’s mouth. No doubt because of the size, she managed to brush up against Stacy’s neck and upper chest as well. Stacy felt her shirt slip.

“Um, Gwen…” she managed around the napkin.

Gwen saw it too, but responded instead by grabbing the edge of the shirt and pulling it up, spilling the now doll-sized Stacy out onto the table. Stacy rolled to a stop next to a salt shaker the size of a traffic cone and jumped to her feet angrily, her hands on her hips.

“Hey, what…?”

She froze, seeing the expression of open admiration and lust on Gwen’s face as she gazed on her naked form. Flushing deeply, she tried desperately to cover herself with her hands, and even more desperately to ignore the answering warmth in her sex. They stared in awkward silence for several seconds, then Stacy cleared her throat.

“Um, Gwen, I need some clothes.”

Gwen’s gaze met hers. “No, you don’t.”

Another awkward pause.

“Gwen…”

“Besides, nothing would fit,” Gwen argued.

“We could use a napkin, or …” Stacy started to contradict her, but then trailed off under the intensity of her stare. “Gwen, um, what are you looking at me like that for?”

“You’re so beautiful,” Gwen replied dreamily.

Another flush, and she realized in embarrassment that she was getting wet. She could see Gwen’s huge breasts moving under her shirt as her breath quickened, the stiff nipples increasingly obvious. Despite herself, she marveled at the size of those nipples. Each one looked about as large as a cupcake, and she could just imagine nibbling and sucking…

She shook her head to dispel the thoughts. “Gwen, give me some clothes!” she squeaked.

Gwen simply stared more blissfully. “Stacy, I love you,” she pronounced.

“Um, well, yes. And I love you,” Stacy replied skittishly.

“I…I think you do too,” Gwen agreed. She no longer bothered to conceal the feelings reflected in her eyes.

Stacy let out a small yip. “Gwen!” She backed up along the table.

Gwen smiled. “Going somewhere?’ she asked teasingly, standing up.

“Um, I think maybe I should go back to my room,” Stacy answered. She reached the end of the table and realized she couldn’t possibly jump to the floor. She began to retrace her steps to the chairs.

A scraping sound announced Gwen’s action before she could see it. Stacy all but ran to her place to find that her chair had been pushed back. Only a couple of feet in reality, but too far to jump at her size. She moved back to the center of the table, trapped and helpless.

“Gwen?’ she asked nervously. “Um, Gwen, what are you…oh my!”

Gwen was slowly and sensually removing her own shirt. Her giant breasts jiggled into view, the size of hot air balloons and completely dwarfing Stacy’s whole body, let alone her own grape-sized breasts.

Stacy felt her whole body flushing hot and cold. She was weak in the legs, and wet between them, but still tried to assert her authority.

“Gwen, you can’t possibly… I mean, I never … we …should … should …OH MY GOD!”

Gwen’s panties hand just joined her shirt on the floor. She turned back to her pixie-sized friend with a knowing smile, while Stacy stared at a 4-foot pussy that was obviously soaked.

“Gwen, we can’t!” Stacy protested one more time.

“Oh, I think we can,” Gwen murmured teasingly. “We may need to use our imaginations a little, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. I have, ahem, a few small ideas.”

Stacy felt an answering heat that betrayed her continuing resistance. “Gwen,” she murmured softly, but it was uncertain if this was a protest or an acceptance.

“Oh, by the way,” Gwen added, her mischievous smile returning. “I also have this.”

She reached beneath the table and returned with a handful of something green as big as Stacy’s whole body. She held it out and dropped it onto Stacy, who found herself weighed down and entangled in the gigantic leaves and thick stems of some tangle of glossy greenery like a giant shrubbery or small tree. She managed to extricate herself at last, and emerged gasping and struggling, only to find Gwen’s smiling and hungry face directly above her. Only at that last moment did she recognize the greenery as their clump of mistletoe.

“Now then,” Gwen said musingly, her lips moistened and slightly parted. “How about that kiss?”


End

Copyright Nomdreserv 2004
mercutio
Member
 
Posts: 16
Joined: Thu Nov 01, 2012 8:59 am

Return to Nomdreserv

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest