BUSINESS CASUAL by Limerick

“Does she know I can see up her skirt?” Kit wondered.

He sat in his new employer’s dingy waiting room. Old chairs with exposed frames lined the walls, and the table in the middle was littered in Cosmopolitans from the last half-decade. The art looked like it came as a bonus with the frame.

His employer’s secretary sat at a glass table near the door to the office proper. She gazed vacantly at an ancient yellowed computer. Kit could see all the way up to her panties. He tried not to stare.

The secretary—her name was Misty—wore a sparkling light bronze dress with a matching collar and dollar sign earrings glinting with rhinestones. Her lips were thick, plump, and covered in light pink bubblegum lipstick. The dress rode so high that everytime she recrossed her legs—which was often—Kit could see a skintight pair of dark red panties.

But even that tantalizing glimpse was nothing against the showcase of her breasts. Her tits—there was no other word—were massive, well-supported, and obviously topped with thick nipples. She couldn’t type very fast, and had to peer over her own mammoth chest just to see the keys.

She had hired Kit over the phone. At the time, he had thought the breathy airhead voice on the other line was just an ordinary, but tired, girl.

The other two new hires studied Misty with poorly disguised scorn. Kit struggled to remember their names. The short, plump one was Rory. She wore a rumpled black jacket and skirt combo and kept her knees primly together. Blonde pageboy hair framed a face that was soft and beginning to droop.

Julie had actually managed to smile at him when he introduced himself. It was tired and cynical, but a smile, nonetheless. She had dark black hair and a thin, waif-like look, with bony arms. Up against Rory, her dark grey pants and wrinkled blouse looked distinctly dress-down.

The door opened. A ruddy man barged through the door. He had thick black glasses and very little hair, and his tie clung to his substantial belly.

“Misty, while we’re waiting for—oh.” He noticed the three of them. “they’re here.” He surveyed them carefully. The girls sat up and carefully kept their knees together. Even Kit felt a little violated.

“Misty, you’re supposed to tell me when—well, anyways. They’re here. Welcome!” He beamed at them. “Misty, I asked you to dress up today.”

“You said to wear something expensive, so I wore my money outfit,” Misty said. Her voice was doll-like and soft. She tinged her dollar sign earrings. “See?”

“We’ll, uh, discuss this later, my dear.. come inside! Welcome to New-U!”

The three exchanged glances.

The interior was a single large room, lit by fluorescent bulbs and a single window that looked over the mall parking lot. Rod’s desk was piled high with papers and two telephones, and was strategically placed to take up all of the day’s sunlight. Three new desks, fresh from Ikea and poorly constructed, clustered at another end. A few bargain computers stood on the desks. The rest of the room was taken up by an expensive leather couch and stack upon stack of cardboard boxes.

Rod gathered them all in a semi-circle.

“Okay.. so we have.. Julie..” the raven-haired girl nodded. “Rory. That’s you. And…” his eyes rested on Kit. “Stacy. Where is Stacy? And who are you?”

“I’m Stacy,” Kit said. The man’s eyes bore into him. “I go by Kit.”

“You’re Stacy? The blonde Stacy.”

“I’m blonde,” he said, confused. “It’s, ah, a guy name too. Technically. You thought I was a girl?”

Mr. Rod was still for a long moment. Then he broke into a long, nervous laugh. “No! No! My mistake, my mistake. My goodness. My.. darling… secretary… must’ve made a slight mistake. Ha-ha. Yes.” He shot daggers at the door that led to his tittering employee.

“Mr. Rod?” Rory said.

“Yes, my dear?”

“What exactly is it you’ve hired us to do?”

Rod nodded gravely. “Excellent question. Excellent question. I need you two—three, sorry—to help me expand my product sales.”

Rory put her hand up again. “Sales of what?”

Rod sucked at his lip. “I see that my loyal secretary has not done a great job of explaining things. Perhaps I should’ve been more involved in the hiring deci—anyway. I sell, ah, you would call them herbal supplements. I think. Full of herbs.” He gestured at the boxes.

Julie, closest, picked one out at random. “NHANC-DD Anxiety Medication. NHANC-DD Weight Loss Aid. Do these things work?” She had a low, wry voice.

“Matter of speaking. Matter of speaking,” Mr. Rod said. He waved big fleshy arms around. “You two—three—will be selling these in the mall outside, then out in the wider world. I have a thriving practice, as you can tell,” he gestured at the dingy office, “but it’s time to expand.”

He smiled. “I want to do a lot of expanding.”

“Misty! Can you bring in the celebratory cupcakes?”

Misty’s perfect bubble-butt shimmied through the door a moment later. She carried in her bracelet-covered arms a plain plastic tray with three cupcakes on them. They had plain vanilla frosting and a few desultory sprinkles.

“Please! Take one!” Mr. Rod said. His eyes were very wide. He had started to sweat. It poured down his neck and into his bulbous body.

Rory and Julie gingerly took a cupcake. Kit picked one up too. He noticed Mr. Rod looking at him with an odd expression. “Um… and one for you too, I suppose,” he muttered, “….Stacy.” Then he shifted his expression back to the two women.

Rory attacked the cupcake, singlemindedly devouring it in several quick bites, then folded up the wrapper. Julie took a few tentative bites, shrugged, and ate the rest. Kit put it behind his back. Mr. Rod’s maniacal look of glee as the girls downed the confection looked more then a little disturbing.

“Excellent! Excellent!” he stammered. “And now that you two lovely ladies have—eaten—your delicious cupcakes—“ he tugged at his collar. “I think you’ll find them a transformative—a growing—a—oh my.”

His face, formerly a bright red, now started to turn purple. His eyes couldn’t seem to leave the two girls.

“My oh my. Ringo Paul and—oh my.” He slumped against his desk, found Misty’s concerned eyes. “Ms. Misty, if you could—oh dearie me. Show these lovely, beautiful girls to their desks….”

Mr. Rod fell flat onto his face.

* * *

Later, when the ambulance had gone, the three new employees sat alone in the empty office. Misty had left in the ambulance, wringing her hands over the prostrate businessman. Rory swiveled on the faux-leather chair, and the other two perched in the plain steel-frame chairs that had come with the desks.

“Fastest I’ve ever lost a job,” Julie said. The edge of her mouth quirked up. “I never thought I’d beat my record from Cinnabon.”

“What happened at Cinnabon?” Kit asked. He toyed with his cupcake, then decided to bring it home to Stephanie.

“Oh, I baked one in the shape of a penis,” she said, and rolled her eyes. “All that frosting, how could I not? They took it the wrong way.”

“At least the cupcake was pretty good,” Rory said. She still had her knees locked together, but licked her lips for any remaining bits of frosting. “I mean, it’s not really a good idea when you’re trying to lose weight, but still. Good.”

They were silent for a long moment.

“I needed this job,” Kit said, sighing. “It’s the only one I was able to find. Stephanie is going to kill me.”

“Who is Stephanie?” Rory asked. She idly pulled open drawers behind Mr. Rod’s desk.

“My girlfriend. We—I just moved in with her a couple of weeks ago. You know. To try and make it work.”

Julie nodded. “Little old lady needs a breadwinner, huh?”

Kit shrugged, looked out the window. The mall parking lot was half-empty. The office itself was abandoned back-way space, lost in a labyrinth of barely-used mall storage areas. Kit had gotten lost several times before discovering the poorly-lit door in an alcove.

“Something like that.”

“I wanted it for the resume, myself,” Rory announced. “This is going to be my Big Start. I’m gonna lose the weight, jumpstart my career, get ready for graduation. I’ve even got two business suits lined up for it.” She sucked on a finger. “Do you think there are any more cupcakes?”

She bustled through the door to survey Misty’s discarded desk.

“How about you?” Kit said to Julie, leaning back in his chair. Julie looked surprised. “Me? Oh. I’m just trying to get out of retail hell. And I live just like two blocks away, so since I don’t have a car, I figured this would work out.” She fidgeted with a lock of hair. It was tied back in a careless ponytail, and needed to be washed.

Rory came back in. She wavered in the doorway.

“Okay, I guess… this is it, then. I can’t say I’m completely disappointed. I mean,” she said, quickly. “It was nice to meet you two.”

Julie laughed. “No, totally. Can you imagine working for Mr. Lusty and his bimbo? Where do you think he found her? Toy store? Plastics factory?”

Kit chuckled. Rory smiled, briefly. “He looked heartbroken when I wasn’t a blonde. I mean, a blonde girl,” Kit said. “I wonder what went through his head.”

“Probably something like “Oh no, no boobies!”” Julie said. She made a face. “Gross!”

Rory rapped her knuckles against the door. “Okay, well, I’m leaving, you guys. Very nice to have met you. Good luck in, I don’t know, in whatever you do.”

“Thanks,” Kit said. He stood up, took a long, lingering look around the office. “What a weird place.”

They left.

* * *

Julie opened her door very quietly so she wouldn’t wake up her cat. Meowth was ten years old and didn’t do much besides sleep, but he got really cranky if roused.

The dark-haired girl sloughed off the grey pants and the uncomfortable, wrinkled blouse. She tugged back on her usual patched pair of blue jeans and her favorite t-shirt from High School. Wearing a nice outfit was hardly her style, even if it was strictly necessary for business purposes.

Her apartment was single-occupancy, and littered with DVD cases and old comic books. Secondhand fantasy books with unicorns on the cover cluttered the floor, their spines broken and busted. The bed was a blow-up mattress.

There was a knock at the door.

“Julie! This is your very patient landlord!” a deep voice said. Julie scowled. “I’m just here to remind you about our state’s restrictive landlord-tenant eviction laws.”

“Come back tomorrow! I just got a job!” she said, and kept the door locked. He wasn’t legally allowed to enter, she had looked it up. Meowth woke up and hissed at the world. He peered at her from inside the Amazon cardboard box he claimed as home.

“Since when do you get paid on Day Two of a job?” her landlord said. His name was Robert. Not Bob, not Bobby, Robert. She couldn’t remember what he looked like because she only talked to him from behind a closed and locked door. “Unless.. sleeping around for cash is against the law, you know. Just for your information, dear tenant.”

Julie waited for him to leave. After a minute of heavy breathing he stomped away. She stroked Meowth until the cranky feline calmed down. Then she heated up some noodles. After that Julie lined up her prescriptions: two Anti-Depressants, Ritalin, Wellbutrin, Prozac-generic. They were the only remaining thing her parents paid for. Then she settled down in front of the TV and put in a stolen DVD.

Julie checked her watch two hours later. She was wide-awake. Typically the medication made her groggy, and she fell to sleep with Meowth on her comfortable and flat chest. But tonight she was animated. In fact, more then that. She was brimming with energy. Julie felt like bouncing around the walls, running the park, jumping through fields. It felt great.

She couldn’t remember feeling that way since the middle of High School. Julie played a little mini-marathon of Tivo shows until the odd burst of happy energy began to wore off.

Right before she fell asleep, sprawled on the bed, she had a thought: there was probably money lying around at New-U. No one was minding the shop. She doubted that anyone would show up for weeks. If there wasn’t a cash box, there would definitely be fixtures and equipment to sell. Maybe she could even pawn some of those boxes of snake oil.

The creaky, unused Jiminy Cricket in the back of her mind pointed out that all that was illegal. Julie pushed it back, snuggled in the bed, and fell asleep.

* * *

“I shouldn’t be here,” Kit thought, gingerly trying the door at New-U. It was 7:30 in the morning, and he wore a tie and a nice shirt.

Last night he had gone home with a fixed smile and nervous flop sweat. His distracted girlfriend was at her computer. As usual. When she wasn’t knee-deep in the first year of law school, the short asian girl was entranced in some video game addiction or another. After the first few months of the relationship Kit had given up on following Guild-this and World of-that. She wore a pair of grey pajama pants and one of his sweaters.

“Back from the factory line,” he said. “Boss Ford has us really cracking out the Model-Ts.”

She glanced vaguely in his direction. “Hey. Welcome back.” Her ability to talk while typing was both aggravating and impressive. “How was the first day? Did you bring home any bacon?”

“Just a cupcake. For you.” He dropped it on the desk. Stephanie studied it, and took a careful bite.

“This isn’t half-bad,” she said. Her dark almond eyes sparkled with approval. Kit smiled.

He had wondered if the cupcake was a good idea. Stephanie had owned a tight, slim little form in college. True, she was afflicted with Tiny Titty syndrome, as she had named it, but that deficiency had been more then compensated for by a hot half-moon of a perfect butt.

Then she had gotten addicted to video games. And then she had started law school. Now the lithe figure he had adored was starting to pudge at the waistline and pooch in the belly. Kit had entertained hopes that his girlfriend would at least show growth in the boob-area. Those hopes had been dashed.

“Then maybe we can even afford this place,” she said, looking around. The two occupied a two-bed, two-bath that neither could afford. The kitchen was outfitted with new appliances, and the cupboards were made out of a nice oak with a mahogany finish.

Kit had talked Stephanie into living together on the presumption that he would work while she would attend law school. Then, vice-versa.

Everything had gone well except for the part where he obtained a paying job. There was very little out there for Poli Sci majors. He had resorted to classified ads. Where he had located New-U.

“Did you talk about salary?” Stephanie asked. She rose up from the computer chair and fell into the hand-me-down couch.

“Yeah. 40-kay a year plus commission bonuses.”

She nodded, then wrinkled her nose. “What are you going to be selling, again?”

“Herbal supplements?”

“So, lies?”

“Terrible lies. It’s a start. Hey, you’re the one going to be a lawyer,” Kit said. He scratched absentmindedly at his chest. Stephanie looked good with both legs drawn up on the couch. They hadn’t had sex since law school began. Kit hadn’t figured out how to discretely masturbate when she was so frequently in his personal space.

“I will be. Hey!” Stephanie perked up. “You should bring me the contract. I can read it over, we learned a lot about Contracts.”

Kit smiled, weakly. Then she had disappeared back into schoolwork. He went to bed before she did.

* * *

Now he was back at New-U. Kit really didn’t know why. He was still technically a valued employee of New-U Enterprises. The door was unlocked.

He wasn’t expecting the lady sitting patiently in the waiting room. She stood up when he bumbled inside, and flounced over to where he was standing.

“Hi there,” she said, eyeing him up and down with practiced eyes. “Do you work with Dr. Rod?”

“Um, I guess,” Kit said. He flushed. The woman was a display of sultry eroticism. She had somehow squeezed her overripe body into a plastic-white tube top, stuffed two proud breasts into the top until they squeezed together. The rest molded against her skin, sculpted an hourglass until it stopped just south of the ass. Two well-rounded legs plummeted great heights into substantial platforms. The lady waited patiently for him to finish exploring.

“I’m Kit,” he said, finally, extending a hand. The woman looked at it, then brought her titties forward so that his hand fit right over the top of her very obvious nipples. Kit snatched it back.

“I’m Mrs. Enrich,” the woman said. She toyed with a lock of hair. “Is Dr. Rod in? I’m here for my prescription?”

“Dr. Rod… ah. He’s not in today. He’s.. not feeling well.”

“He’s not?” Mrs. Enrich gasped. Tears leapt into her made-up eyes. “Oh no!” Her voice sounded like honey and molasses. “It was that fourth go-round last week, I knew it was too much! I just couldn’t stop—Oh, poor Dr. Rod!”

Kit instinctively felt like comforting her, but couldn’t come up with anywhere to put his hand that wouldn’t betray Stephanie. Even a shoulder would be a problem. Mrs. Enrich’s hot, flushed skin was silky all the way.

“I’ll—I’ll just pick up my prescription then,” Mrs. Enrich then. “Do give Roddy my very best.” She smiled sadly at him.

“Uh, I can’t… I don’t know about the pills,” Kit demurred. Mrs. Enrich’s eyes widened, then narrowed. She nodded, slowly.

“Oh, of course, dearest. Payment,” She licked her lips. “It’s always about payment. I’m going to have to be quick, I’ve got my daughter in the car.” The leggy blonde slowly fell to her knees. A thin snake of drool slipped out of her mouth, and she reached for his fly. Kit dove backwards.

“Mrs.!” he said, shocked. “I don’t think you…”

She looked hurt, shocked, surprised. As did Kit’s growing cock. After two weeks of inattention it didn’t feel too bad about an innocent go-around.

“Oh… I know what this is,” Mrs. Enrich said, slowly. “It’s ‘cause I’m 43, isn’t it?”

“43?” Kit said, shocked. The big-boobed bimbo on her knees in front of him couldn’t be older then twenty-five. For one thing, boobs that size didn’t hang so proudly at her age. They should be sagging around the knees.

Enrich nodded. “Alright. It’s okay. You’re a young man. It’s understandable you don’t want an old thing like me. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, sweetie!”

She stood up, balanced for a moment on heels, and sashayed out the door. Kit watched two toned ass cheeks bounce underneath the slinky fabric. He shook his head and readjusted his pants. “Yikes.”

Julie popped her head out from Dr. Rod’s office. “Is she gone?” the dark-haired girl hissed.

“What? Julie? What are you doing here?”

She ignored that. “Is that surgical nightmare gone?”

“Mrs. Enrich?”

“That’s her name? I was thinking Barbie, or maybe Doll-Girl X1. Wow. I haven’t seen that much silicone since I learned my periodic table.” Julie shook her head. She wore a dark black hoodie and a pair of jeans.

“I think we’re starting to see Dr. Rod’s business model,” Kit said. He tried to shift his weight so his erection wasn’t too obvious.

“Yeah. Find the dumb ones, feed them lies, and sell them fake pills. Maybe there’s some big-boob support group he found out about,” Julie said.

The door squeaked open. Julie disappeared back into the common room. Mrs. Enrich undulated back into the room. She escorted a new girl. Kit shook his head, amazed. This one wore a pink bustier, topped with a heart-shaped bow. Her breasts weren’t the colossal towers Mrs. Enrich proudly bore, but they were still large, filling the cups to overflowing. Underneath their shadow she had on a brief pair of tight white shorts, and matched white heels. Her lips were puffy and thick, like Misty’s, and her hair was gathered back in a long braid.

“Your daughter?” Kit guessed.

Mrs. Enrich nodded and looked proudly at her progeny. They had matching nails. “This is Sarah. She started on NN-HANC-DD Anxiety just a month ago. She used to be so uptight! Now we’re both having such a wonderful time together.” They grinned at each other, and Mrs. Enrich winked. “Go ahead, dear.”

Then Sarah sank gracefully onto her own knees. Prepared this time, Kit danced back, out of range of those pillowy lips.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “We’re selling them.” Both mother and daughter looked uncomprehending. “For money. Money.”

“Ohhhh,” Mrs. Enrich said, nodding up and down. Sarah climbed back to her feet. She looked disappointed. “I think we have money. Do you have any?”

Sarah searched her body. Kit could’ve told her straightaway there was nothing there. Every bit of fabric was so tight a dime would’ve been obvious.

“What do you two do?” he asked, curious.

“Sarah-dearie is a—what is it called? With money?”

“An accountant,” Sarah said. She had a high-pitched, bubbly voice.

Mrs. Enrich nodded solemnly. “Right. Very good accountant. And I’m a housewive.”

“You mean, housewife?” Kit asked.

“What, just one house?” Mrs. Enrich laughed. “That would be soooo boring! And how could I choose between all those dear men? Oh, hey, look at that.”

The giggly middle-aged sexpot pulled a stash of Benjamin Franklins from within the crevasse of her boobs. She pushed them onto Kit. They were very warm, and a little wet.

“That must be from Stevie. Or Davie. Or… what did we do last night, Sarah, honey?”

“We went out,” Sarah chimed in.

“Maybe then.”

“I’m impressed you could get up so early, then,” Kit said.

They both laughed. Sarah’s laugh was more like a squeal. “Oh, honey, we haven’t gone to bed yet! And it’s all thanks to dear Dr. Rod.”

Kit backed into the other room. Julie spun restlessly on Dr. Rod’s office chair. “I need two boxes of anxiety medication, stat.” He held up the money. “I don’t think they want change.”

Julie rose an eyebrow. She tossed two of the boxes at him. Kit bowed slightly, backed out, and handed the cardboard boxes to the women. They hugged the pills to two substantial chests, then turned to leave

“Say hi to Dr. Rod for me,” Mrs. Enrich sang. “And…” she looked at his insistent erection, and winked. “If you’re going to be.. filling in… for him, then maybe we can spend some time with you.”

“Mrs. Enrich?” Kit said. He hesitated. “Are there any… negative side-effects? To the pills?”

The two looked at each other. “Negative?” She looked at her daughter. Then she shrugged. “Can’t think of any, dear. I’m nothing but a big fan. Not a single negative side-effect to speak of.”

And the two bimbos flounced out the door, shaking their asses, he suspected, just for him.

* * *

“One hundred… two hundred… five hundred dollars,” Kit said, counting the warm bills onto the desk. Julie stood above him, fixated on the still-damp dollars. She toyed absentmindedly with the tip of her ponytail.

“That’s real money,” she noted. “Although it’s probably swimming with disease and germs.”

“Five hundred dollars! She didn’t even blink at it.”

“Yeah, well,” Julie snorted. “I don’t think she knew how to count. Dr. Rod seems to just use this place as an excuse to hit on sluts.”

“At least they’re rich ones,” Kit said. He turned a dust-covered fan on. It was hot today, and besides, the overheated mother-daughter pair had left him distinctly warm. He sat behind the desk so that Julie couldn’t see his insistent erection.

“Knock knock,” said a chirpy voice, at the door to the office. Kit half-rose, expecting another overstuffed lady. Instead, it was Rory. The plump girl wore an all-white running outfit and sneakers. Her face was red with streaks of sweat.

“Rory, right?” Julie said, shaking her memory. “What’s up?”

“I could ask you two the same thing,” Rory said. She tucked her hair back behind an ear. “I was just past the mall and thought, you know, maybe I’d take a look at the office. What’re you two doing here?”

They looked at each other. “I was actually thinking,” Julie said, slowly, “about maybe taking this whole New-U thing seriously.” She displayed their morning profits. Rory’s eyes bugged out. “That was from two boxes of pills.”

“Herbal supplements are big business,” Kit said. “I looked it up last night on Wikipedia. Billions of dollars.”

“And the clientele isn’t very bright,” Julie noted.

Rory licked her lips. “So… maybe… we could sell them. Ourselves. Without Mr. Rod. At least until he gets out of the hospital.”

“We’d be business partners,” Kit mused. He opened up the nearest cardboard box. “It’s too bad these boxes look so cheap.” They were just plain cardboard, with “NN-HANC-DD” stamped on the top with a faded stencil. Inside each box was a packet of twenty pills in a loose baggie. There was no other information included.

Rory walked around the room, examining the stacks. “So, there’s NN-HANC Anxiety… Depression… and hey, Weight Loss.” She opened the Weight Loss box. The little purple pill looked identical to the others. Rory examined it. “Down the hatch,” she announced, and downed it in one gulp.

“Was that a good idea?” Kit asked.

Rory shrugged. “Honestly, what I really wanted was another one of those amazing cupcakes. I lost three pounds overnight, can you believe that?”

“I mean, taking those pills. We don’t even know what’s in them.”

“Can’t sell them if you don’t trust your merchandise,” Rory said. “We both know they’re just Flintstone’s vitamins.”

“Here goes,” Julie said. She swallowed one of the Depression pills. Then she burped. “Whew. I hope that goes well with my other medications.”

“Oh, what are you taking?” Rory asked. Kit examined her for weight loss. There wasn’t any sign of it. The white-clad girl still jiggled in all the wrong places. Although, now that he was watching, a good amount of it had landed in her chest.

Julie ticked them off on her fingers. “Umm. Two for depression. Couple for anxiety. Lots.”

Rory looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Oh, I thought you meant, you know, herbal stuff. Like gingko and echinicea and whatever.”

“I wish,”

Kit pulled out an Anxiety pill. “Huh. I hope I don’t turn purple,” he swallowed the pill.

“Great!” Rory beamed. She looked around the room. “I guess that makes us all partners. We’ll split it all three ways. This is going to be great!”

* * *

“I don’t see why the first thing we need to do is spend money,” Julie groused. Rory dragged her along through the halls of the department store. It had just opened, and groggy saleswomen stacked sweaters at outrageous prices. “I thought we were out to make money.”

“Gotta spend it to make it,” Rory said. “Would you buy anything from a girl in a black sweater and jeans?”

“Depends what they’re selling,” Julie said. “I kind of needed those five hundred dollars.”

“That’s capital. That’s the name of that money. Capital,” Rory said. She turned into the suit aisle. “Perfect. We’re getting you set up.”

Ordinarily Julie would’ve spent her precious energy bitching and moaning at something as frivolous as a shopping expedition. Particularly when it was destined to consume her newly acquired money.

Julie had decided not to mention the locked cash box in the bottom drawer in Dr. Rod’s desk. Not until she knew how much was in it, anyway. And Kit and Rory didn’t deserve it any more then she did.

But she felt surprisingly… good.. this morning. Julie had read stories and books about waking up on a beautiful day brimming with energy and good wishes towards men. Up until now she had thought it something that happened to other people. But this morning she felt confident, optimistic… and great.

“Here. And this. And this,” Rory said. She stuffed a series of dark business clothes onto Julie’s unresisting hands.

“How do you know my size?” The dark-haired girl asked.

“Two years in a sorority,” Rory chirped. “We all share stuff. You get used to estimating sizes.”

“Huh.” Privately Julie wondered who in a typical Rory could share with. She was distinctly on the heavy size. She grabbed her own clothes without hesitation. “A sorority?”

“Oh yeah. I’m Vice-President in charge of Recruiting… Vice-President in charge of Decorations… Vice-President in charge of Trash Collection. Lots of jobs. I keep busy. Okay. This is good to start.”

Julie followed her into the dressing room. She stood awkwardly by while the confident blonde jabbered at a salesgirl with dark-rimmed eyes. Then she stood in the unforgiving eyes of three changing room mirrors and peeled off her usual outfits.

Typically she didn’t like what she saw. Julie was slim, and had always sort-of liked her dark black hair. But the rest of her body was just skin, holding her together. The girl had none of the filled-in curves that she saw on display at the mall. Whatever adolescence had poured into her classmates to billow them out with boy-attracting bulges had entirely passed her by.

She quickly fastened the sheer white blouse, and tossed a black jacket over top of it. Rory hadn’t even given her a pants option. She fumbled with the skirt. Julie hadn’t worn a skirt in ages. This one was tight-fitting. If she had an ass, or curves, it would’ve nicely accentuated them. She looked in the mirror. The stark white girl in the other end looked, well, professional, at least. A far cry from a huddled mass in a black sweat-jacket.

“Are you done?” Rory said.

Julie walked out. Rory stood in her own outfit. Julie hid her face with her hand. “Isn’t that… a little tight?” she asked.

Rory looked like she struggled to breathe. She wore a similar business suit, but the inexpensive cotton fumbled to hold together. Her boobs fought with the fabric, distending the buttons, and her skirt was near tears just to hold her waistline back. The outfit was practically obscene, showcasing her bursting assets. The blonde was clearly holding her breath in.

“Yeah, it is,” she admitted. “But once I lose weight, it’ll fit perfectly. I’ve got it all worked out. What do you think?”

Julie looked down. “It’s fine,” she said, shrugging.

“What about… you know.” Rory said. She didn’t seem sure what to say.

“What?”

“Your nipples, dear. You don’t wear a bra?”

“I’ve never needed to,” Julie said, puzzled. She looked down. In fact, the sheer white fabric clearly revealed a dark brown pair of nipples. She blushed crimson. “Whoops. Let me… grab a bra.”

Typically she didn’t bother. Her little boobs didn’t sag, because there was nothing to sag. Her dark wardrobe never gave any opportunity for them to show. A minute later, she hooked the brand new bra onto her arms. It had taken her a moment to recall exactly what her size was.

The comfortable silky underthing brushed against her prominent nipples. They were hard in the mirror. Julie tentatively rubbed one with her hand. The spike of warm pleasure surprised her. She was definitely overenergized today. The back and forth of the bra didn’t feel too badly, either. The lazy smile of the girl in the mirror was a shock.

“And these,” Rory said. She slung two heels over the side of the door.

“I can’t walk in heels!” Julie said. Rory didn’t bother responding.

Still, once she had them on, the slight girl had to admit that they added a certain something. A feminine flair that wasn’t there before. In just the suit she was a girl. With professional low-slung heels she felt like… a woman. Even a lady. She practiced smiling again. A gir—woman could get used to it.

Bubbles of contented energy popped through her head.

* * *

“We’re back!” Rory announced, pushing roughly through the door.

Kit looked up. He sat behind the desk, plunking vainly through Dr. Rod’s impenetrable accounting and record-keeping. Most of the drawers were full of miscellaneous papers, covered in doodles, and marked with vague numbers and letters. Such notes as “Sensitivity? More. Look into growth” and “Five times!” were completely unhelpful.

His computer was password-locked. Kit had tried “Misty” and “password,” without success.

Rory preened in the center of the room. Kit didn’t know what to say. She was a plus-size squeezed into a minus, shrinkwrapped into a taut black skirt-suit. Her chest tugged at the blouse and threatened to pop the very top button. She beamed at him. “Not bad, huh? Professional!”

“Yeah, professional,” Kit said.

Julie, on the other hand, had improved dramatically. The gaunt girl looked like a real woman in her own suit, and her dark black hair gave her face a precise definition. The effect was only slightly spoiled by her haphazard strut in heels.

Rory placed a fifty, plus a few dimes, on the table. “Here’s your share back,” she said, and had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

“You guys want to start tomorrow?” Kit asked.

“No way,” Rory shook her head. “I’m feeling upbeat. We’re salespeople, lets go sell!”

They found an old fold-up table in a side closet. Kit hauled it outside. The two heel-clad girls walked in front of him, and he found his eyes falling down to their bouncing butts. Rory’s was larger, but the stretched fabric outlined every line and facet. Julie gave just a tantalizing hint of rear at the height of her stride.

He set up the table along the side of the middle of the mall. Julie and Rory set up three folding chairs, and arranged a slew of boxes in the center. Then they all sat down and waited.

The mall was a triumph of 1980s architecture, outfitted with glass walls and long expanses of white concrete. An inadequate skylight shone down on an assembly line of scuffed tile. Foot traffic was minimal.

An hour and a half later, Kit began to get concerned. They hadn’t even merited glances from the bored pedestrians. There weren’t many to begin with. He noticed the increasingly desperate blowout sales and bored clerks in the stores on either side of them. Julie had slumped back down in her chair. Rory arranged and rearranged their displays of purple pills in neat pyramids.

“You guys aren’t going to have any luck here,” the salesgirl in front of them said. She manned one of the kiosks, and apparently sold koi ponds and neon paintings to taste-free customers. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re not even here legally.”

“Seriously?” Kit said.

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it, they fired all the mall cops last month. Didn’t have the money to pay them. I’m Clarice, by the way,” Clarice was a redhead, dappled with freckles, and wore a long severe apron over a pair of black pants. She had deep almond eyes. The three introduced themselves. Clarice walked over to their meager display.

“What are you guys selling, anyway? Girl scout cookies?”

“Pills!” Rory barked. She blushed. “Uh, I mean, we’re selling herbal supplements. For Anxiety… Depression… Weight Loss…”

Clarice smiled. “Hm, job like this, I can use all three. How much are they?”

“Five hundred dollars,” Rory said, eagerly. Julie sat up straight, elbowed the full girl in the side.

“She means ten dollars,” Julie said. Kit looked at her. In fact, they hadn’t managed to discuss price.

Clarice looked doubtful.

“Money-back guarantee,” Julie added. “And the first one is free.” She opened a box and tossed a little purple pill at the redhead.

“Hm, I’ll think about it,” Clarice said. She swallowed her freebie. “If I’m feeling non-anxious, non-depressed, and I’ve lost a ton of weight, maybe it’ll be worth the ten dollars. But, some free advice, guys? Work on the display. You don’t even have a sign.”

She walked back to her own kiosk. The three looked at each other.

“I think we need to rethink our approach,” Kit said.

* * *

Julie paced the length of the mall. Her feet had, at first, hurt in their unfamiliar leather constraints. But she had gradually gotten used to the abbreviated stride and unusual steps that heels called for. The slender girl took careful, narrow steps, and put one foot in front of the other. After a few minutes she felt sufficiently comfortable to take her eyes off the floor and look around.

The team had broken apart for the day. The rest of the afternoon had not gone well. Rory had tossed a hundred ideas for improvement. All required money they did not have. Television advertising. Expensive signs. Celebrity spokespersons. Kit had played with a cardboard box and looked concerned.

Usually around quitting time Julie was wiped out, completely bereft of energy, another side-effect of her medicinal regimen. But today she was still in the mall, practicing her heel-walk. Her mind surged with bubbles of energy.

Plus, if she went home, there was a good chance her landlord would try to evict her.

The cash box nagged at her conscious. It would be too easy to steal it. Rory and Kit would never feel the loss. Heck, half the things in her apartment were pilfered from old jobs. She had an apron from Cinnabon, a bunch of Slinkies from the Imaginatorium, and her two days at Sears had been seriously lucrative.

Julie shook her head. It didn’t feel right.

She had reached the end of the mall. There was a restaurant there, one of the few success stories in the long shopping boulevard. She stood outside the big glass windows and watched the interior fill with paying customers. It was just a pizza joint, right?

A pizza joint filled largely with men. And despite the banks of sports-playing TVs, many seemed to have their eyes on the boobs and butts of a wait staff composed largely of nubile young women. Julie recognized some of them as part of her own class, the ones that had developed chests and hips. They giggled and flirted with the increasingly drunk crowd, and accepted tips in large denominations.

She shook her head and walked away. Sex did sell. And sex was cheap.

* * *

Julie didn’t return home until well after 8:30.

“Oh, gosh, Meowth!” she cried, kicking off her heels. The grouchy cat mewed. Julie spooned more dry mix out for him, and pet the angry feline for a good half-hour.

Then there was the inevitable rap on the door. Angry and loud.

“Julie! This is your landlord. Eviction time is now. Open this door or—“

Julie had a sudden idea.

“I’m busy!” she sang out, in as close to the breathy sex-voice the mother-daughter used as she could manage. “Oh… Derek… no, I need to get the… door… Derek!” she said, and giggled like an inane airhead. “Oh, Derek!”

The raps suddenly stopped. Julie could hear the same breathy sighs on the other half of the door. She smiled.

“Oh… Derek… not… you know that… Derek… Derek!!!” Julie cried in a fake orgasmic screech. Then she padded silently into the kitchen. There was a very tentative rap on the door, then the pesky landlord went away. She giggled. So, he thought she was a prostitute, huh? And just maybe he liked the idea.

The money problem could wait for another day.

In fact, the airhead sex-kitten voice had gotten her… just a teensy-bit turned on. Her nipples had felt pleasant under the new bra all day. They were joined by a growing fire way down there, triggered by the hot thrill of faking a big O. Julie put the cat in the bathroom, closed the door, then sat down on the couch. Before long she had one hand under her blouse, twiddling an anxiously needy nipple. The pleasure grew more intense. Then, before she knew quite what was going on, she had one hand underneath her brand new skirt.

Julie knew, intellectually, that she couldn’t risk staining her brand new skirt with anything. But somehow her surging energy only felt released once she put a finger into a well-lubricated interior. She was highly juiced up already.

A few minutes later, after a satisfying and quiet orgasm, she let Meowth back into the room.

* * *

“Check it out,” Kit said. He snapped the money. “Fifty bucks. My first commission.”

Stephanie didn’t seem impressed. In fact, she looked on edge, sitting on the couch in her usual jeans and t-shirt combination. The tan girl played with the remote.

“What’s wrong?” Kit asked, sitting next to her.

“Nothing,” Stephanie said. “I just can’t seem to concentrate today. I need a break from the law.”

“So, play some video games,” he suggested.

“I don’t want to do that either,” she sighed. “It doesn’t seem like fun to wait a half-hour for anyone to do anything. Do you want to go for a walk?”

Kit was surprised. She hadn’t shown any interest in exercise since law school began, unless it was turning a page. “Sure,”

Soon they strode along the sidewalk. The passerbys made it clear that the twosome lived in a neighborhood they could not afford. If it wasn’t a wealthy guy taking a dog on a late night stroll, it was a housewife in pricey clothes escorting a new baby. They were the only early-20s in the entire area. The lights of the neighborhood glowed softly in a light fog.

“So, how is business?” Stephanie asked. She set a demanding stride. Kit hustled to keep up.

“Uh… fair,” Kit lied. “Not bad, really. I think we’re learning. Julie is really smart about business, and Rory is so gung-ho about everything. I kind of feel like I’m dead weight.”

Her jeans looked tight. First he put his arm around her, then let it droop down to the curve of her ass. She was warm. Stephanie was too distracted to pull away. Her walk bounced her butt against his hand.

“Good, because rent is due next week, and I’m stone-cold broke,” Stephanie said. She looked up at the moon. “I hope the law is for me. I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Kit asked. He raised an eyebrow. “You talked about nothing else our entire Senior year.”

“Yeah, but today? There was nothing I wanted to do less then sit in a stuffy room all day and watch boring old men lecture about Criminal this and Civil that. My mind was all over the place.”

“Sounds like you need a break,” he suggested.

“I’m sure that’s it,” It was nice to watch her in action. Kit had first fallen for her body after watching her run across campus after a Frisbee. Her sexy figure was on full display when she walked. Curves moved around each other like a geometer’s wet dream.

They returned later. Kit had not managed to remove his hand from her butt. And she had increasingly obliged him. Soon he cupped an entire moon in his right hand. They both glowed with residual heat in the warmth of the apartment.

“Come sit on the couch,” she said, patting the seat next to her. He obliged. Her little hand calmly felt for his fly, and quickly unzipped his zipper. His cock, already hard, sprang out at her.

“Um, what brings this on?” he asked.

“I might as well get something done night,” Stephanie said. Her light black eyes examined the length of his dick. “I was thinking today that we haven’t been physical enough. The least I can do is release the valves.”

She stroked him with increasing vigour. Kit put his head back and fell back in the chair. Stephanie was relentless in her pursuit of his orgasm, bringing him to a fever pitch with a fast rhythm. When he came it spattered her smooth hand with white droplets, and nearly reached the fringe of her blouse.

“Wow, you really must’ve needed that,” she murmured, and flushed. It took two kleenexs to mop everything up.

“That was good,” Kit noted. Money worries temporarily floated to the back of his mind.

“Hey, if I can’t work, might as well be physical,” Stephanie stretched, long and hard. “Why can’t I burn all this energy off?”

“Oh, hey, I got a present for you,” Kit said. He rummaged through his jacket pocket and withdrew a cardboard box. “NN-HANC-ANXIETY. This is what we’re selling.”

Stephanie examined the meager box. “This is it?” She drew out a pill, looked at it, then swallowed it down. “What are they really? Cod liver oil?”

Kit had noticed that the finger she popped in her mouth still had a white droplet of cum. He fought to keep his face calm. “Something like that, I’m sure. Hope it works.”

Stephanie smiled. “Me too.”

* * *

“That can’t be right,” Julie thought. She had bought the new bra just yesterday. But already it pinched and creaked at the back. There was no way to blame improper construction. Her boobs were unusually puffy this week.

More then puffy. Julie weighed them in her palms. Usually there wasn’t enough there to balance a scale. Today she had woken up with noticeable weights on her chest, little round mounds of boobs.

And that wasn’t even the most remarkable part of this morning.

Usually when Julie woke up she spent the first fifteen minutes thinking of good reasons to get out of bed. Then, when she couldn’t come up with any, she rolled out for lack of anything better to do.

This morning she had hopped out of bed, cooed at Meowth, and was pouring herself a bowl of cereal before even realized what was going on. And she was smiling. It usually took two pints of coffee before she was even able to stop frowning. So it was extra-shocking to look into the mirror and see a happy morning grin looking back at her.

“Maybe I should be smiling,” she told her reflection. She had a job. She had outwitted her landlord. Her boobs wanted to be big this week. Nothing wrong with any of that.

The box of pills sat, open, on the table. She crunched one between her teeth and examined the back of the cereal box.

“The pills,” she thought. What if.. what if they were having a reaction to her other medications? That would explain the happy buzz.

There was an easy way to test that hypothesis. Julie didn’t take her Prozac that morning. Whatever did she need it for? After all, her skirt was still lightly scented with last night’s highly relaxing finger-play.

She pulled on the rest of the suit and smiled into the mirror. Her body practically glowed with health. And the little bulges on the front of her suit shirt didn’t help the look. She was looking more professional every day.

* * *

“I’m completely out of my league,” Julie thought.

It was an hour later, and the three Junior Partners of New-U sat around the office, trying to think up something that would attract sales. Or, accurately, Kit tried to think of ideas and the other two vaguely nodded.

Julie honestly tried to come up with something smart to say. But the fact of life was that everything took money they didn’t have. All they had was an office full of purple pills and a folding table.

Besides, Julie had secured a nice spot in the sun, catching the rays from the single window as the morning heat penetrated the office. It felt great.

“Penetrated,” she thought. That was a funny word. So big and huge. She giggled, then looked around to make sure no one had noticed.

Kit looked increasingly exasperated. Julie tilted her head to examine him. The boy didn’t look half-bad when he was all serious, going over balance sheets and pondering new business ideas. “Do either of you two have any good ideas?” he finally said. Julie struggled to come up with something smart to say. Nothing came to mind. The sun felt so good on her chest.

“None of you guys have noticed anything about me?” Rory said. She looked hurt.

“Uh, what’s to notice?” Kit said.

“I lost weight! I lost a whole lot of weight,” Rory said. She stood up, took Julie’s sunlight, and twirled.

Julie had to admit that there was some noticeable weight loss going on. Where before the stout blonde had forced two thick feet into heels, now she was merely heavy-boned. The overstuffed business suit now looked positively well-fit, even tailored. Although, Julie noticed, none of the weight loss seemed to have affected her breasts. If anything, they looked even larger on her smaller frame.

“Not bad,” she said, smiling at the other girl. Then Julie got up to steal her sunlight back.

“Yeah, great, but business first, ladies,” Kit said.

“Maybe we should just give the pills away,” Julie said.

“What?” They both looked at her like she had sprouted wings.

“Yeah,” Julie said. She moved out of the sun so she wouldn’t get distracted by the delicious warmth. “So, all we have are ourselves and an office full of pills, huh? The pills didn’t cost us anything. Lets give them out today, and say that if they feel good, come back tomorrow for more. Those we’ll charge for.”

“That’s our merchandise,” Rory said, pained. “You want us to give it away?”

“Just for starters. Think of it this way. You see how nice it is outside? It’s sunny and beautiful, right? Everyone we give a pill to will go out, feel great in the sunlight, and think it’s because of our purple happy pills. The next day, we charge them for it. Is that dumb?”

She sat nervously back down in the chair.

“No… no, actually, that’s a pretty great idea,” Kit said, slowly. He wore tan pants and a blue collared shirt.

“Blue collared shirts are so hot on men,” Julie thought. Her eyes found the drawer with the cash box. She looked away. Not yet.

* * *

Rory spent ten dollars of their remaining fifty dollar venture capital fund to pick up a piece of posterboard and a set of markers.

“Does it have to be all pink and purple?” Julie asked, watching her work. She shook her head. A nice morning of scatterbrain was fine, but it was time for business.

“That’s what I learned, in the sorority. That’s what we get. Plus, we’re marketing these to women, women like pink and purple.”

“Girly-girls, maybe,” Julie thought and didn’t say. But then she thought of the neon-highlight outfits of Misty and the Twosome. Bright colors seemed to attract them. Plus, it was kind of pretty, in a feminine sort of way.

Kit set up their folding table. Clarice watched them from her kiosk. She had ditched the apron somewhere, and just perched on her chair in a pair of jeans and a tight yellow blouse. The jeans were tucked into a new pair of boots.

“You guys giving it another go?” she said, eyeing them with mild interest. “Didn’t learn your lesson yesterday?”

“Even better,” Kit told her. “We’re giving them away.”

“I should come back tomorrow, maybe you’ll be giving away money,” Clarice eyed the display. “Hey, let me have my free sample. I’m your best customer.”

“You’re not even a customer. You were a pity-sell,” Julie retorted. “Second day, you have to pay. That’s the rules.”

“Aww,” Clarice pouted. “What if I told you they didn’t work? I’d get my money back, right?”

“You didn’t lose twenty pounds?”

“Hah! I did lose a couple. And I do feel pretty darn good today. Of course, that might be because I’ve decided to quit this stupid job.”

“Don’t quit!” Rory said.

“Yeah, you’re our only customer!” Julie said. She laughed. “Or you aren’t. It’s confusing with you.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Clarice said. She looked around her kiosk. It was entirely deserted. The section of the mall looked like the deck of an abandoned aircraft carrier. The few customers were mostly mall-walking elderly types. “I sell something today, I’ll buy some of your snake oil.”

“Deal,” Kit said.

* * *

Kit sat at the table and rested his head in his hands. So far, their free sample innovation hadn’t been any more successful then yesterday. The biggest problem was that their end of the mall was practically deserted. The few elderly folks that ambled by probably couldn’t even read their sign without glasses.

The two girls on either side looked out of place. At least they didn’t seem all that concerned about their lack of business. Rory was still high from her successful weight loss, and besides, she didn’t need the money. Julie had picked the sunny spot underneath the skylight and appeared to be half-asleep. With her eyes closed and her head back, it was very easy to admire the curve of her body. Kit looked resolutely down the length of the mall.

“Uh oh,” he said.

“What?” Rory asked. She kept pulling down her blouse.

“My girlfriend is here. Try and look successful.”

Samantha walked down the center of the mall. She wore a pair of tan pants Kit remembered from college, and a matching pink blouse. The pants ended mid-shin, and she paired them with a low-slung set of heels. Her hair was up.

In front of them, Clarice actually talked to someone. A grinning old man with skin like a sack of untanned hides had angled onto her pretty bright shirt. She chatted casually with the obvious lech, striding around the kiosk. The old man kept sneaking peeks at the snug fit of the rear of her jeans.

“That’s your girlfriend, huh?” Rory said speculatively. Julie woke up and watched her approach.

“That is her.”

“Not bad.”

“I think so.”

Samantha examined their meager display and raised an eyebrow. “Hi, Kit.”

“Uh, hi.” He introduced her to his co-workers. She shot a glance at him in order to say “you didn’t mention you worked only with girls.”

“Don’t you have class today?”

“Just Constitutional Law,” she shrugged. “It’s all online anyways, I’ll just watch the podcast. How’s business?”

“Uh, great. Really good. We’re making… synergy.”

Clarice danced between them. “I made a sale,” she sang, waving a stack of twenty-dollar bills. “That dear man just needed a fake koi pond. And he gave me a tip!”

“Hand that tip over, then,” Julie said. Clarice thought about it.

“Noooo, I think it’ll come out of proceeds of sale. It’s a business expense, after all. She gave Julie a twenty. Julie started to make change. “No, you guys keep it. My tip to you. I think you three are going to bring me good luck.”

Two other girls, sipping from Jamba Juices and wandering the mall, joined Clarice. Samantha and Kit stood back to give them room.

“Oh, hey guys,” Clarice said. She introduced them. “This is Jenny and Meredith. They work over in that luggage store. You guys need to try one of these,” The redhead popped a pill into her mouth, for emphasis. “Free sample.”

“See?” Kit said. The two ladies accepted a pill from Julie and Rory.

“Not too bad,” Samantha judged. “Uh, do you have time off coming up? I was thinking of maybe going shopping for business clothes. I’m going to have interviews coming up, and I thought, you know, I needed to do something productive today. Too nice a day to stay in and play video games. You want to come with?”

“Uh, sure,” Kit said. If nothing else, he could try and keep down the damage to their shaky financial picture.

* * *

“Hey, we want one of the free pills,” the girl said.

“Have you already gotten one?” Rory asked. The girl was blonde, with large, liquid pool eyes, and she looked very similar to one of Clarice’s friends.

“Nuh-uh,” the girl said. “I’m one of Sarah’s friends. She said you guys were giving away weight loss stuff.”

Julie didn’t remember any Sarahs. But they had given away quite a few pills in the past hour. There had turned out to be an extended network of bored young girls with tired eyes in this half of the mall, and most talked to each other. Word of their giveaway had apparently gotten around.

Of course, they hadn’t actually sold anything yet, besides that first sale to Clarice. She was the business success of the day. A steady trickle of randy old men had piled up to watch her prance around in that tight yellow blouse. She was currently the most colorful thing in the mall. Julie had to admit that her carefree, cheerful attitude was infectious. She had regained her happy mood from that morning. And the girl couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off the tight bounce of Clarice’s butt. She looked much more comfortable then Julie did in her wool-blend suit.

“I’m tired of losing money,” Rory said. She stood up, turned over the giveaway sign. Julie helped her pile their reduced stack of boxes into the stuffy office. It was a good way to burn off a little excess energy.

“Now what?” Julie mused.

“Shopping,” Rory said, decisively.

“With what money?”

“My Dad’s, silly. I was thinking about something while we were sitting there. About that girl, Clarice, you know?”

Julie knew what she meant. That tight yellow shirt was still bouncing through her mind. Her boobs still felt warm from the morning sun.

Rory picked at their outfits. “We’re wearing these dark dark dark clothes. We’re not accountants. We’re supposed to be selling fun. We’ve got to look more upbeat.” She turned to Julie. “You want to come with?”

Buying clothes with a peppy sorority girl? Still, Julie’s usual post-work gameplan of sighing and petting her cat just didn’t have its usual allure. “Why not?” she said. Shopping was fun, if you just let yourself get into it.

Ten minutes later the twosome sat on a narrow bench inside one of the boutiques upstairs. Julie vaguely recognized the salesgirl as one of the vapid blondes that had lined up for a free purple pill. She was blowing bubblegum.

“I’m thinking this, and this, and this and this,” Rory said, commandeering the floor. She decimated racks of expensive materials. The outfits were shiny and pricey, generally made out of satin and synthetics. Julie caught sight of a pricetag and had to fan herself.

“Rory!” she said, shocked. “That’s… um… three times…” she abandoned the math problem, distracted by the line of numbers. “That’s really expensive!”

“So? I’m losing weight. I can completely feel it slipping away,” Rory said, unconcerned. She brandished a credit card. “Daddy will understand.”

The blonde led Julie and the staggering pile of clothes Rory was underneath to a fitting room. Julie fidgeted outside as the discarded business suit flitted carelessly over the side of the door. After a long five minutes of listening to zippers and buttons, she paced back out to the boutique floor.

Somehow the girl with the dark black hair found herself in front of a poorly lit corner of the store, darker then the rest, inhabited by slink fashions and wrong-side-of-classy clothes. Julie hadn’t worn anything like that as long as she could remember. Dresses had always felt strange, big sheathes of pinchy fabric. Tight tops just called attention to her itty-bitty titties. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about short-cropped skirts and bright low-cut blouses?

“You don’t have the money!” she told herself. “Stop this!” But her hands were caressing the thin fabric.

“Can I help you?” the shopgirl said.

Julie jerked her hands back. “Uh… no,” she stammered. “I mean… do you have anything.. cheap? Not cheap-looking, I mean, like, inexpensive.”

“How inexpensive are we talking?”

Julie told her.

“Wow. Umm, we have some lingerie on sale.”

It was all in a pile. But right on top was a satin and black pair of boyshorts, with a silver bow on the top. Rummaging around pulled out a bra in the same design. She checked the tags. The items were made for someone more curvy then she was. But Julie had a feeling in her gut that wouldn’t take “I don’t fit” and “this is crazy” for an answer.

She stripped naked in the other dressing room. Rory’s had become suspiciously quiet. Was it just the way the lights played off her puffy tits, or were they even larger then this morning? And since when had she looked so good, so shiny and healthy? Even her hair seemed to glow in the soft boutique lights. “Amazing what good lighting can do,” Julie thought, pulling on the too-large items.

They fit. Perfectly. She checked and rechecked the tags. “No way,” she said.

The bra cupped and lifted, the two demi-cups neatly holding a small but pleasant pair of globular boobs. Her nipples strained in the enclosure. The boy shorts accentuated a slim pair of legs with a nice curve in the hips. For perhaps the first time in her life, Julie looked in a mirror and saw a woman looking back at her.

“Are these sizes right?” She said, back outside. Julie had pulled her old clothes on with definite reluctance. Her crotch still felt distinctly warm and moist where the boyshorts had cupped it. To say nothing of the maddening tingle in her boobs.

The girl shrugged. “You know women’s designs and sizes. All over the place. Why? Are they too big?”

“No… no they are not.”

Before she knew what was happening, the girl was placing her purchases in a little pink bag, and she was handing over the last of her funds.

Rory emerged from the fitting room. “What do you think?” she said, walking around the store. Once again the blonde had gone for too-tight over just-right. A tan skirt with a light brown belt crested just above the knee, and she had capped the top with a light blue cropped sweater. It showcased the weight loss failure in her own tits, which bulged out the middle section of the microfiber.

“Great,” Julie said, too dazed from her own shocking purchase to say that “it looks really cheap.”

What had she done? Why had it made her so darn horny?

* * *

“Don’t you think it’s a little short?” Kit said to his dissatisfied girlfriend.

“That’s the problem with women’s business stuff,” Samantha said, adjusting the outfit in the mirror. “If it’s too long you look dowdy. Too short and you look too sexy.”

There was no risk of her looking dowdy. Samantha had picked out a few pant suits with matching blouses. Those had been tossed aside in the first round of elimination. Now she was choosing between two black skirts. One clung to her rear, outlined tightly against her butt whenever she crossed her legs or moved around. Walking would clearly be a challenge, unless she kept her legs together and moved slowly. Crossing her legs might cause traffic accidents. The other one was even tighter, and that was the current favorite.

Kit held the discarded choices in his lap, to disguise the insistent bulge of a very hard erection. The enclosed quarters of the dressing room seemed overheated with spilled-out hormones and a thick sexual haze.

He didn’t know how to tell Samantha this, but every time the thin asian girl leaned forward to check out the fit of a blouse or a skirt, he had to fight the urge to flip up the fabric and split her from behind. Rarely had he been quite this turned on.

“It’s not too much?” he managed, trying to keep his head level.

“Nah,” she bent at the waist again. Kit groaned, inwardly. “Besides, this is just how it works. You’ve got to show a little skin at interviews. It’s all horny old judges and lawyers with kinky fetishes.”

Now he felt a surge of jealousy. “Don’t you dare suck up for a job,” he warned, and was surprised at the edge in his voice.

“Aw, just a little?” she said, softly. “Do you think this outfit is a lil’ sexy, Kit? You don’t want the big men lusting after my ass?”

“Something like that,” Kit said. He stood up. The clothes toppled off his lap. Samantha’s eyes caught the bulge in his pants, and her mouth made a tiny “O.” Then she giggled.

“I’m the one who should be jealous, with your co-workers flouncing around. I didn’t know dress up would be so much fun,” she said. “We should’ve done this before. I feel great. And so do you, apparently. Want to have a long business meeting, stud?”

Then Samantha ran a finger along the underside of his cock. She stepped closer, and they kissed for a long, hungry minute. The dark-haired girl started to melt into him, and her hand once again found the insistent bulge in his pants. Her rubbing stopped being playful and started to get wild and heated. He reluctantly pulled her back. Samantha’s eyes were glassy.

“Hey,” he said, shaking her. “Gotta watch out for the video cameras.”

She seemed to come back to reality. “Oh, uh, right. Sorry. Uh.” She rearranged her clothes. They had gotten skewed. “Guess I’ll get this then, huh? Then I have to get back to work.”

“Guess so.”

“Kit?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sexier then those girls you work with, right? I know they have, uh, bigger boobs and all that,”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Kit said.—

Julie caught her hand snaking down to the hot thatch at the junction of her thighs. “Stop that,” she told it.

She had come home early, more then a little dismayed at her own lack of self-control. The scanty lingerie wasn’t much in absolute terms. But in terms of her remaining funds in this world, they were a significant fraction of the whole. And just why had the entire, ridiculous encounter left her with a nagging buzz in her slippery sex? And why did she have the feeling that a few happy fingers down there would take care of all of her problems.

In the rush she had completely forgotten to pick up the cash box. Now Robert was going to bug her again.

Instead, she had turned on an old favorite, Casablanca, to put the odd, exciting day behind her. But as Julie sat on the salvaged couch, munching on stale nachos with her left hand, her right kept getting away from her. First she had found it lightly stroking the underside of her boobs. They were undeniably bigger. Something in her basket of medications had clearly taken offense at the new entrant, and this was the side-effect.

Then she had found herself gently patting the outside of her jean zipper, teasing the outside of her warm sex. It became harder and harder to concentrate on the movie whenever a male character came onscreen. Which was very nearly all of the time. Her breathing got short and hot.

But Julie drew the line when her hand tentatively tried to sneak underneath her jeans. It was just too slutty to start playing with herself right in the middle of the living room. Again. Even if the nub in the middle of her pants was pulsing with insistent need.

“Okay!” Julie said, to no one. “I’ll try the stupid underpants on!” Meowth disappeared under the bed.

Her uncomfortable, thick clothes went over the side of the couch, and she tugged on the tight new pair.

“Why do I look so good?” she wondered, throwing a sultry look into the mirror. Just moving her body around, swishing it in front of her reflection, felt like a fun little dance. Her new boobies craved the attention, called out for more. She let her left hand creep underneath the waistband. Her right hand latched onto a sensitive nipple.

There was a knock at the door. Julie swore in a manner entirely unlike the fetching young dark-haired woman in the mirror.

“What?” She demanded, tossing the door open. Robert stood there. He looked surprised to actually see her. He was in his late 20s, older then she was, and had a thick growth of stubble. He wore a nice button-down and had thick brown eyes.

A moment later Julie realized she was still in her all-too-sexy underwear set. She glanced down, and tugged up her panties to conceal a few errant hairs.

“Uhhh… rent?” Robert managed to say. His tongue seemed disconnected from his brain. His eyes roamed over her like a cavalryman. Julie leaned forwards a little to give him a better look.

“I’m wearing all the money I have,” Julie said, bitterly. Robert took that entirely the wrong way. “I mean, I’m broke, Robert. Really. No money.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he said, automatically. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her expanding chestline. His stare felt like a warm sunny day. The idea took form before Old Julie could do anything to prevent it.

“Can’t you give me one more day, Bobby?” she cooed. Her voice sounded like syrup and cream, dusted with sugar. She put her arms together, just a little, to let her assets pop up. “I’m having a really tough week. Can’t you see? One more lil’ day?”

“Yes… I see,” Bobby said. He had to put his hands in his jeans. “I’ll.. uh, I’ll be back tomorrow. And I really do want the money.”

“Oh, you’re a dear,” Julie exclaimed. She bounced happily on her heels. “I’ll have it for you, sure thing. You’re such a sweetheart.”

Then she shut the door in his face. Julie resolutely walked over to the couch, took a deep breath, and nearly ripped the boyshorts in her haste to stick a wiggling set of fingers into her needy snatch.

Afterwards she tossed a pill in her mouth and chomped it down.

* * *

Samantha always slept in pajama pants and a pajama top. It was cute, in a flannel sort of way, but it made her look as objectively sexy as a plush doll.

Still, Kit watched her sleep. Her cute nose was pushed hard into her pillow, and she drooled. The petite asian girl had gone to bed late once again, cursing herself for a long day of getting nothing done. Glommed onto the computer, she had essentially ignored him.

Eventually Kit had gone into the bathroom and jacked off on his own. His frustrated fantasies found their way over to visions of Rory and Julie, kissing each other while their nice white boobs rubbed together. Then he had gone to bed.

“Oh well,” he said. He needed to worry about their increasingly desperate finances before getting into the issues of his sex life. At least Samantha’s new suit outfit was emblazoned on his fantasy life. Kit walked out the front door and shut it as carefully as he could, turning the lock so that it wouldn’t wake his young girlfriend.

He was only ten yards away from the door when Samantha flung the front door open. “Wait!” she exclaimed, scrambling after him in her pajamas. “Come back for a second! There’s something I need to do before you go!”

Kit let himself be led back inside. “What? Something’s wrong? Did you wake up with something?” he asked, concerned. She quickly shut the door and locked it from the inside. Then the slim girl pushed him back against the door and unbuckled his fly.

His cock didn’t need any more encouragement. It grew long and tall in moments, bounced up against Samantha’s nose. She grabbed it with one hand to steady it, closed her eyes, and swallowed as much of his dick as she could.

“What… what brought this…” Kit tried to say. But the sensation was too much to complain about. He had received a few haphazard blowjobs before, on Valentine’s Day and other special occasions. They weren’t bad, but resembled trips to the ice cream shop, with Samantha tentatively licking at the tip and admonishing him to not drip all over the place.

This was different. The length of his penis distended her mouth, and he could even feel the back of her throat tickle the very top. Her tongue wrapped around it with abandon, and every drop of precum he produced was greedily swallowed. Even given his complete surprise, it didn’t take longer then a few minutes for him to erupt. The first rope went right into her mouth. Samantha delicately pulled out, and the rest of his load hung on the point of his dick before dripping on the carpet. Still, he noted, that meant a lot of swallowing of the white stuff.

“Sorry, I just woke up, I hope that was okay,” she said, nervously.

“It was fine! More then fine! What—why was that?” he said, dazed. He was still standing with his back to the door.

She fidgeted, both knees on the ground. “This is going to send stupid. Like I’m a bad girlfriend sort of stupid.”

“What?”

“It’s just…” she wiped her mouth. A bit of white drool was still on her chin. “You’re actually working. You’re making money. You’ve got two attractive girls on either side of you. I’m just this lumpy law student who can’t even get any studying done. I’m.. I’m just kind of worried you’ll stray.”

“I don’t think I can stray,” Kit said. He pointed down to his limp, exhausted penis.

Samantha smiled at it. “I had a dream about it last night. It was nice. So I thought I’d, you know, make sure we were okay.”

“More then okay,” he assured her.

She beamed. “Just keep being the breadwinner, okay? And I’ll be a good girl.”

Kit’s smile faded. “Yeah. I’m the breadwinner, alright.”

* * *

Julie had a hard time getting to work that morning.

Not that it had been hard to jump out of bed. She still had that thick surge of energy, those hot bubbles of excitement that bubbled through her head.

It was just that she seemed so easy to distract this morning. And much of the blame could be placed directly on her growing titties.

They were larger again this morning. They were, in fact, the first thing Julie checked, hefting and caressing in the dull light of the bathroom mirror. The twosome rode high, and were certainly comfortable, with perky cherry nipples and no apparent sag. But they were also even larger. Even without the assistance of the pushup bra they collided in the middle of her chest, produced an inviting black line of cleavage.

They felt so good it was kind of concerning. Julie had only been able to stop lightly tugging at her red-hot nipples, to stop brushing all over the increasing length of her chest, when she caught sight of the inane smile on her face. A little drool had leaked out of the side of her mouth.

And, in fact, she had gotten ready pretty easily for the rest of the morning, feeding Meowth and eating breakfast. Then she had climbed into the shower. The steady pitter-patter of wet heat on her tits had set her off again. This time her fingers had once again found their way into her snatch, and she had erupted in a very satisfying orgasm.

Afterwards she had dumped out all the pills she was taking, excepting only the Ritalin and the NN-HANC. Anxiety was no longer a problem. Depression was very much no longer a problem. The only thing she was struggling with was keeping her mind on something for longer then a few minutes when her boobies kept calling for her attention.

Julie still got into the office first. It was Sunday, and they hadn’t discussed it, but there was a good chance the other two were taking the day off. The increasingly curvy girl wore her typical jeans and a dark red t-shirt. The jeans seemed too loose around the waist and too tight around the ass. Underneath she wore the new bra and panties. The bra already struggled to constrain her swiveling chest. It jiggled when she walked, now. That was even more distracting.

First, to deal with the money problem, once and for all. She shoved her nagging conscience as far back as it would go.

She opened the third drawer down on the left. The cash box was still stuffed in the very back. It was a cube of brushed aluminum, and disconcertingly light. Which could mean there were bills inside, or which could mean that there was nothing inside. Julie pulled at the lid. It was locked tight.

Then she felt underneath the box. The key was taped to the underside. Julie rolled her eyes. Apparently Misty had been in charge of financial security, as well.

The inside of the cash box was a long lawn of green. Julie caught her breath. She pulled out wad after deep wad of bills, all of them covered in zeros and stern looking Presidents. It wasn’t hard, even with her present level of distraction, to count a growing stack of money. Well over one thousand dollars. Plenty for the month’s rent. Plenty enough to walk away from this job and make a substantial profit.

There was a snapshot at the very bottom, passport-sized. On it was a mousy girl with brown hair and a pissed-off expression, wearing a tired old t-shirt. She looked at the camera with undisguised scorn.

Julie turned it around. The back read “Misty: 01/22/03.”

“That was Misty?” Julie said, unbelieving. Misty, the walking showcase of Tits and Ass? Misty, the ditzy bimbo with the sugar-coated voice? Misty the dumb slut? This girl looked like.. just like anyone else.

Just what was going on here? How much plastic surgery had Dr. Rod paid for? And why had Misty agreed?

The dark-haired girl pulled open the last drawer, on the very bottom of the desk. It was filled with a rainbow of plastic, carelessly dumped into a plastic-lined interior. Julie, eyes wide, pulled out a thick, insistent vibrator, colored red and oddly shaped. It was still sticky. Her fingers caressed it, and the sudden image of it pistoning in and out of Misty’s sighing form raced through her head.

“The pills?” Julie wondered. Maybe one of the NN-HANC line made girls… suggestible? Easily manipulated? Perhaps all it took was to get Misty on a dose, then slowly insinuate a line of reasoning. Hey Misty, you’d look great in a short dress. Hey Misty, why not do something about that hair. Hey Misty, how about some head? But that didn’t make much sense. What kind of pill could hypnotize someone?

She had to find out more about NN-HANC. Julie walked over to the new Ikea desk. Dr. Rod had put a few cheap computers on it, borrowed from salvage. They hooked into the wireless connection from the coffee shop farther down the mall. She settled herself in the chair and crossed her legs.

The door opened. Julie squeaked. The cash box was in her lap, and she turned away from the door to hide it.

“Morning Julie,” Kit said. She swiveled her head to look around. He wore a similar blue shirt to yesterday, and he looked tousled. And very attractive. Just the sight of the well-formed young man put a thrill through her heart.

“Hey! You! Kit! …What are you doing here?” she said, squeezing her legs together.

“Oh, I wanted to look into the finances some more, see if I can’t get into the computer,” Kit said. He frowned. “Something still seems… off… about this place. You know what I mean?”

“Sort of,” Julie said. He sat in the big chair. Julie had closed all the drawers. She discretely put the cash box down on the floor in front of her and pushed it forwards, out of view. Then she turned back to the Internet.

“NN-HANC-DD” pulled up no hits, and suggested that she had misspelled everything. Julie tried “Dr. Rod,” and “Weight Loss” and “Anxiety,” with no greater success.

“They don’t have a website,” she said, puzzled. “Isn’t that strange? NN-HANC. The company. Whoever makes that stuff.”

“It’s probably in another language,” Kit suggested. “Sent from Indonesia or something. I’ll bet they’re huge in Asia. It’s probably made out of powdered toenails.”

Julie tried another few keywords with mounting frustration. Then, without any other ideas in mind, she once again tried “NN-HANC-DD” and hit “Image Search.”

Long rows of boobs and butts filled the page. None seemed to be of professional models or porn actresses, just regular women with huge boobs looking into the camera with identical happy smiles. Blondes, brunettes, most with long, cascading hair. And mostly wearing spandex and little else, showing off curvy forms with perfect skin.

Julie caught her breath. The exposed skin was enough to set off fireworks in her pyrotechnic-prone mind. Say one thing for the lines of girls, they seemed to be pretty happy. At least half had men’s arms wrapped around them. The other half had men with a hand on their ass.

Her boobs hurt.

The bra was once again not large enough, and cut into her back. Something about the sexy ranks of satisfied girls made her head swirl with a potent combination of hot bubbles and warm juices. Julie struggled to keep her mind on her fruitless Internet search. She clicked through to a couple of the image sources, only to find they were just Myspace pages and other personal profiles. Nothing about NN-HANC, just long diaries kept by some apparently slutty women.

One was just a long page of sexual encounters and casual fucking, updated about every day. Hot reading. There were plenty of pictures. She scrolled down a long list of sucking and sex, her breathing got hot…

Julie looked down. Her left hand, the one not using the mouse, was in between her thighs. It rubbed, needy, against her sex.

She knew it was crazy, with Kit tapping away just yards behind her. But even that made her imagine things. Kit noticing how crazy-wanton she had become, pulling her too-tight jeans down and spanking her. Then unleashing his hard, long dick, forcing her onto the desk.

Her clothes were so tight, and so so hot. The bra hurt. Her panties ached against her hips, and her jeans felt pinched and tight around the curve of her butt. Her finger was rubbing up and down against the zipper, pressing the boyshorts as deep as they could into the wet slit. Julie felt entranced by the sexy parade on her computer screen. She let go of the mouse and reached up, towards the growing mass of her…

“Boobies!” Julie exclaimed. She covered her mouth. The sudden sexual heat faded away. She didn’t dare turn around and look at Kit.

“Julie, that’s it!” he said, enthused.

“What?” Julie said, baffled. Her head was still fogged. She had to get out of these clothes. They felt like she was wearing poorly-fitting rags, itched terribly, and cut into her skin.

“That’s the password for his computer! It’s “BOOBIES!””

“That’s… that’s great,” Julie mumbled. She restarted the computer, then picked up the cash box. She picked out a good hunk of change, kicked it back underneath the table, and rushed to the door.

“Where are you going?” Kit called out.

“I’ve got to get out of these clothes,” she said.

“Hey, wait a second,” Kit said. Julie waited, quietly. “Uh, thanks for everything, Julie.”

“What?” Julie said.

“Thanks. You’re really helping me out. All the good ideas in this company come from you. Okay. That’s it. Go ahead.”

“He likes me,” Julie thought, and the tingling surged. She smiled, turned, and walked out of the office, one foot ahead of the other.

* * *

Dr. Rod’s personal computer was no more well-organized then his inept bookkeeping. His bookmarks file appeared to be divided equally between those timewaster free games and slutty boutiques. Kit checked the history file. No pornography, interestingly. Although with Misty around Kit figured that he hardly needed it.

He was about to click onto a folder entitled “BeforeAndAfter” when Rory walked in. He quickly forgot about computer browsing. Rory was stunning.

There was still a hint of businesswoman in there, if you knew exactly where to look. It could be in the suede mini with the matched belt, or the white fitted top with the buttons. And her hair was tied back. But any attempt to do business was lost against the increasing allure of her figure.

Rory had certainly lost weight. She had lost it all over. Her formerly plump legs were toned, thin, and dynamite. Her stomach was perfectly flat, which meant that her boobs had her entire torso to themselves. She wasn’t shy about showing off cleavage. Her formerly businesslike stride was replaced with a leisurely side-to-side on high heels. Kit couldn’t see her ass, but he was suddenly very interested in it.

“Like what you see?” she said. “I figured since Julie was out today, you and me could get some work done.”

“Rory!” he said, surprised. His cock rose up, despite his earlier romp with his girlfriend. Rory looked at him, innocently. She had ruby-red lips. “You lost more weight.”

“I sure did! I loooove these pills! They make you feel so good!” She giggled and twirled. “I’ve felt nothing but amazing since day one on these beautiful things.” Rory shook one of the boxes.

“How is it even possible to lose that much weight?”

“I do jog in the mornings,” Rory said. “And, uh, other weight-loss activities. Last night. All night. Come on out! Didn’t you see the girls out there?”

“Out there?”

Rory seemed ready to haul the table out all by herself. When they walked into the mall proper a small crowd of five or six girls nearly cheered. Clarice was one of them. The redhead had gone with pigtails today, and pants were out of the question. Instead, she wore skintight blue jean shorts. Kit could see a few freckles on the creamy expanse of her upper thigh.

The other girls had also gone in for young fashion. Tight jeans were common, and more then a few well-toned butts lurked beneath them. Healthy nubile tits were held back by brightly colored tanktops and good intentions.

“Hi guys!” Clarice sang, as they set up. “All the girls wanted to get their supplements before work started.” They formed a neat queue, like a dancer line, in the middle of the mall. The male pedestrians didn’t seem too eager to vacate the area. All the women clutched ten dollar bills. Other girls came out of separate stores as the first hour passed. All departed with cardboard boxes held in shiny nails. Most took their second pill right then and there. As did Kit and Rory.

Clarice continued to feed business their way. Word about the redhead with the curvaceous form had gotten around. When poised on her high chair, she stood stock-straight with her chest pointing out. But it was when walking around that Clarice was in full effect. The sway of her ass underneath the jean shorts was stunning.

“I gave out sooo many pills yesterday,” Rory said. The blonde to his right alternated between admiring her nails and toying with locks of her hair.

“Oh yeah? To who?”

“My entire sorority. That’s going to be twenty-six new customers. Twenty-seven once I get the President to finally get off her high horse. I had to sneak hers into her cheerios.”

“You drugged her?”

“She’ll thank me when she loses those fifteen pounds she keeps whining about.”

The crowd around Clarice started to get more and more boisterous. She presided over a line of increasingly horny men, giggling and trading smoky stares like they were baseball cards. The men didn’t seem to mind sharing attention. There was plenty of Clarice to go around.

“I notice Julie isn’t here,” Rory said, pointedly.

“Oh. She was in earlier. She said she was going shopping.”

“Uh-huh,” Rory said, and rolled her eyes. “Just you and me, then.”

From his vantage point Kit could see other boys in and around the local shops. The leather store had a lot more customers then normal. That was because the two girls manning it had both decided on matching leather boots, up just past the knee. The rest of their outfit wasn’t much more concealing.

The girlfriends didn’t seem to mind. Many of them were waiting in the steady line in front of Rory and Kit. Word had definitely gotten around. Half were free samples, half were sales. Weight Loss was most popular, followed by Depression, and then Anxiety. Kit had a growing stack of bills in his lap.

Rory excused herself for a moment to “freshen up” in the office. She was gone for a good half-hour. When she returned, her eyes didn’t seem to quite focus and her skirt was mussed.

“So Dr. Rod had a secret cache of sex toys in there,” she mentioned, a few minutes later.

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Bottom drawer. Lotsa vibrators.”

Kit shook his head. “That guy is a pervert.”

“Uh-huh. Hey, is there a Radioshack in this mall? I’m just asking.”

One of the lucky customers of Clarice’s koi ponds decided to deposit his one hundred and fifty-dollars in the crevice of her boobs. Clarice looked down at it, pushed it in a little farther, and winked at him. That triggered an extended bidding war for whatever Clarice had for sale. Kit heard several spirited bids for her clothes and underwear. She took a momentary break from the circle and strode over to the two of them.

“Hey guys,” she said, eyes sparkling. Kit sniffed. She smelled like hot candy, some sort of intoxicating scent that spilled into the air around her.

“Hi honey,” Rory said. “You look hot out there. Totally sexy.”

Clarice shrugged. “This is going to be my last day at this stupid kiosk. I thought I’d get some walking-around money.”

“Aw, you’re not in it for the attention?” Rory said. She pouted. “Nothing wrong with all those boys looking for a piece of you. Good for business.”

“Eh, they can look, but they can’t touch,” Clarice said. She giggled. “Except down into the boob area. Can you believe it? I’ve got thousand dollar titties. Apiece!”

Rory had to fan herself with a cardboard box. A minute later she excused herself to the office.

Clarice didn’t seem to be enforcing her don’t-touch rule too strictly. In fact, with nothing left on her entire kiosk to sell, the money-hungry redhead had gone in for dancing. She swayed her hips back and forth, selling nothing but a vague promise and a smile. Men were lined up to push twenties down the expanse of her chest, and Kit could see a few enterprising individuals had managed to get large denominations in the tiny pockets on the back of her shorts. Kit shook his head. It was hard to see Clarice through the mass of aroused men around her, but he could feel the heady, horny scent emanating all around. It was that same sexual smell he had felt with Samantha.

“Clarice!” a man’s voice boomed. “What… what in the hell? What is all this?”

The spell was broken. The circle of men around Clarice walked away quickly, heads down, and the girl stopped swaying. She looked like a money piñata, covered in cash, and her cheeks were flushed.

“Hi boss!” she sparkled, to a middle-aged man with a short goatee. He scowled at her. “What’s the problem?”

He turned bright red. “You—I heard about all this. What’ve you been doing?”

“Making money, see?” She fished a handful of bills out from her boobs. Kit wrinkled his nose. That seemed very familiar to Mrs. Enrich’s own wallet methodology. “What else would I be doing?”

“I hired you to—“

“I don’t care what you hired me to do,” Clarice said. She shook her head. “I’m quitting. Effective right now.”

“You…!” The Boss shook with apoplectic fury. Clarice found Kit and pranced over. “Kit, can I use your office? I get the feeling I need to meet with this guy privately,” she whispered. Kit mutely pointed back towards the door. “Thanks. I owe you one.” She winked at him.

Kit watched her lead her furious supervisor off into the depths of the mall. This was starting to get a little strange. Lucrative, yes. Their funds had gone up by many different zeros. But the sexual heat in this corner of the mall didn’t seem to be completely natural. Although most of it could still be attributed to Clarice’s prodigious effort.

Was it the pills? He took one a day. Besides an upsurge of energy, there were no ill effects. Excepting the horniness. Maybe he needed to look into Dr. Rod’s files.

“Kit?” Samantha said.

Kit nearly fell out of his chair. His girlfriend had appeared at the side of the table without warning.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” She said. Her lips were pursed, and she looked concerned. “I’m kind of worried about something.”

“Sure,” he said. They were just about out of stock anyway. And without Clarice around, foot traffic had abruptly stilled to previously low levels. Kit counted up the day’s take and put it in his pants. He didn’t feel like taking his eyes off Samantha.

She wore a slinky red dress from their college days. Samantha had only worn it a few times, complaining about the tight fit and the persistent staring from pretty much every guy they walked past. It clung lightly to her skin and advertised her curves like they were on sale.

“What’s with the dress?” he asked, escorting her back towards the office.

“I needed something for comparison. Kit, be honest, are my boobs bigger?”

He looked. They did look very healthy, two solid bumps that pulled out the middle of the chest. The dress was high-cut around the throat, and they certainly looked good.

“Maybe,” Kit said. “They look really good. What? Why? You think they’re bigger?”

“I know they’re bigger,” Samantha said. They reached the office. “My bra didn’t fit right this morning. Is there something in those pills you gave me? They’re the only thing I can think of.”

“You haven’t exactly been exercising,” Kit told her. He reminded himself to tread carefully. “Maybe you just put some weight in all the right places.”

She shook her head. “No, I weighed myself, and I’ve actually lost weight. Plus my complexion cleared up, and I’ve been so damned, you know, turned on.”

Samantha looked down at the ridge of her boobs. Kit opened the door. Happily, he looked through before she did.

Rory had two heels perched on the glass desk. The blonde had her head thrown back, and her eyes were half-open, her tits thrust high into the air. Kit looked directly into her panty-less pussy, where a lubed up sex toy was inserted nearly all the way in. The pink, steaming snatch glistened in the light. He stared at his blissed out business partner, enjoying an afternoon jill with complete abandon. Kit coughed, shocked, and her eyes flew open. Rory fell forwards, crossed her legs, and smiled just before Samantha looked up. The blonde had not, Kit noticed, found time to withdraw the buzzing vibrator.

“Ahem. Hello Samantha,” Rory said, with impressive poise. She tugged her skirt down. “You’re looking good.”

“We’re going to need the office for a bit,” Kit said.

“I, ah, wouldn’t go in there,” Rory said. Samantha waited by the entrance. Kit peeked into the main office, cracked the door open.

Clarice was in there. Her white boobs rubbed against the top of the desk, the nipples popping in and out into the air. Her fingers clutched the edge of the wood, and all the magazines and papers that could be easily thrown to the side were already on the ground. Her boss, his pants around his ankles, plowed her from behind. She pushed back with enthusiasm and energy, looking back from time to time. Her pigtails bounced in the air.

The computer monitor laid on the floor, cracked open. Clarice looked at his shocked expression.

“We’ll… pay… for… the… computer…” she panted. Her boss nodded.

Kit nodded and shut the door.

“They’re negotiating her severance package,” Rory explained, to the puzzled Samantha.

“Come on,” Kit said. He led Samantha outside. Rory smiled, satisfied, as he shut the door, and he imagined her settling back to a fun vibrating time.

Kit led her quickly through the back-alley of empty mall passages. “Seriously, they’re definitely bigger,” Samantha said. Her delicate hands kept exploring the weight of her tits. “Ever since two days ago. And I just can’t seem to concentrate. On anything.”

The boy looked around. No one was nearby, and the dust-covered floor seemed to indicate that they were unlikely to be disturbed. He settled Samantha against the wall. “Let me check them,” Kit said. His cock felt like it could lift irons. Conscious thought wasn’t easy. His mind kept filtering back to Clarice’s fucking.

His hands kneaded at Samantha’s chest. She slumped against the old drywall. “And they’re really, really sensitive,” she said, panting now. “What do you think, oh, Kit. You don’t need to check them like—Kit!”

He was all over her now, pressed up against her dress, her hot form. She breathed heavily against him as his hands continued their assault. A second hand found its way up the side of her dress, clasped her curvy butt against him.

“What are—oh—that feels too good,” Samantha said, whispering now. Moments later one leg wrapped around him. He continued his tactile assault. “I like the dress,” he whispered, at her. She moaned something insensible. Kit took that as his cue to yank down his pants.

Her second leg wrapped around his soon afterwards. Later, when she came, only his hands kept her from falling down entirely.

“W—wait,” Samantha gasped. Kit was surprised. From her insensible moans and tightly shut eyes Kit wasn’t sure she even knew what year it was. Kit had stopped caring which of the screams were orgasms and which weren’t.

“What?” He didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. He was so close.

“This—this isn’t because of your coworkers, right? You aren’t thinking of them? Those two girls?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because you spend all day with them, and I’ve been so busy, and—oh, my, Kit—I know it sounds sooooo silly.”

Samantha was the only girl Kit knew who would worry about her attractiveness even while he could watch his penis slide in and out of her. He had a sudden, sex-fogged idea.

“What if I came on your face?” he suggested. “I’d have to be thinking about you. Because I’d be looking at your face.”

Samantha thought for a moment. Then she nodded. “Okay,” she said, in her sugar-cone voice.

Kit pulled her off with a wet, slick noise, and settled the unsteady girl on her knees. Then he tensed, held his cock, and spurted all over her face. The delicate makeup and light features were covered with a unusually thick load of white stuff. Samantha opened her mouth, and Kit aimed his second load there.

Samantha giggled, tugged down her dress. It hardly mattered.

“Mmm, sorry about the insecurities, babe,” she said. “A girl just has these crazy thoughts.”

“What about the boob growth?” Kit prodded.

“Huh? The what?” She blinked, looked up with dazed eyes. “Were we talking about that?”—

Julie played with the cash box.

She had returned late to pick it up. The office had been a puzzle, the computer smashed and Dr. Rod’s desk swept clear, but the box was still where she had left it.

The good news was that she was no longer dressed in the overheated jeans and t-shirt and driven to distraction by a confining bra that poked at her boobs. The bad news is that she had gone out to pick up a breezier underwear set, maybe a new pair of pants. She had returned with two huge bags full of whirlwind purchases and 82 cents in change.

She hadn’t meant to. At first she had just stepped into American Eagle, intent on a comfy pair of cotton undies, and perhaps a loose pair of tan pants. And, in fact, that was what she had picked out.

Then she had seen the polka-dot panties.

They were flirty, tight, low-cut, really just a glorified thong. Julie had fallen in love. They went onto the pile. Then, walking out of the store, her minimal attention span was caught by a cute yellow polo. It showed off the long arc of her titties and made her look like a dippy co-ed. She wore it out of the store. Julie had preened, walked through the mall, attracted the idle stares of the single men and the covert glances of the attached ones.

That didn’t explain the stop into the flirty teenybopper store near the pizza joint. What had she been thinking? Something about the business.. and looking hot… and something about how boys liked girls who were hot. And then something about how her boobies were hot, but she needed to show off her legs. How had it gone, again? Everything had made a lot of sense at the time.

Anyway, it didn’t justify the next three increasingly-brief skirts. The first was a white sheath down to the knees. The second was yellow, to match her polo, and flared at mid-thigh. The third one was probably illegal to wear without a trenchcoat over it.

“Oh. That’s right,” Julie thought. The salesgirl, one of their own new customers, had explained that the third skirt was to be worn with tights. That sort-of explained the black fishnet nylons, then. And the fishnets probably explained the knee-high schoolgirl socks with the bright blue panties.

At some point she had gotten her nails done. For free. The salesgirls wore matching blue dresses, cut tightly with a slit up to mid-thigh. They were customers, had recognized her as she walked by. The two had pulled her into the empty shop, sat her down, and insisted on a nice wine-red set of nails. It was too hard to struggle. Julie had just smiled, sat with her knees splayed open, and let them work on her nails. The lacquered look was so sensual.

Had they given her makeup? At some point she had acquired a matching red pair of full lips.

She hadn’t bothered with her hair. It bounced sprightly on her shoulders, full and rich, with a thick sheen that framed her face.

It had all gotten more and more confusing. Every bright light and shiny color seemed to send her in a new direction. Her smile was wide, vacant, and apparently permanent. Her amazing, bouncy energy level kept her grooving through the mall even as her purchases grew in weight and heft.

That’s why she had bought the super-slinky red mini with the mesh top. Because it was lightweight and easy to carry. Her boobies hadn’t helped things. They sang in their thin satin bondage, yearned to be free, wanted to be rubbed by her, by anyone around.

She had made it home in a pair of tight tan shorts and the yellow polo, swinging the cash box at her side. Now she sat in her apartment. .

“Silly pills,” she said, and made a face. Her stash was on the table, arranged to spell out “Boobs” in purple. And it wasn’t just the boobies, anymore. Her lips were thick, full, and plump. Her ass looked toned and deliciously bigger. The waif of the past was becoming increasingly voluptuous.

Julie picked up two pills. The one on the left she named “Boob Pill.” The one on the right she named “No Boobs.” She stood them upright and had them face each other. It was time for a debate.

“Julie! Stop taking these titty pills!” said the relatively deep-voiced No Boob. “They’re turning you into a pin-up girl and you’re getting really giggly.”

Boob Pill was having none of it. “Life sucks when you have a flat chest and no energy,” it pointed out. Julie nodded at BP’s impressive argument. Life did suck when you didn’t have big boobs to touch. They were like having an amusement park on her upper chest.

“Yeah, but they’re making you all silly,” No Boob said. “Plus you’re spending a lot of money, and you look like a teen hottie!”

Julie pursed her lips. No Boob had good points. She was starting to act pretty scatterbrained, and spending a lot of cash.

“Yeah, but we’re making money too,” BP pointed out. “You made tons of cash today, and no one likes a grouch! Now you’re making lots of friends.”

“Your friends are dumb sluts.”

“Kit isn’t,” BP said, coyly.

Just the mention sent her pussy into delightful spasms. Kit was such a cute boy. And he was so very nice to her, complimenting her business ideas, giving her full credit when she did something good. It was really too bad he already had a girlfriend. Maybe she was open to unusual living arrangements.

Julie blinked. She was in the middle of an argument, and still getting sidetracked.

“This is what I mean, you big-boobed dumbo,” No Boobs said.

Julie sighed. No Boobs was right. As much fun as it was to pound the world in a tight pair of shorts and a happy smile, pharmacology wasn’t the way to do it. She tossed Boob Pill into the sink, and was about to do the same to the triumphant No Boob.

Then there was a knock at the door.

She shuddered. There was no way she could handle Robert without her energy. She swallowed the No Boob pill, and imagined it kicking and screaming all the way down. Anyway, her boobies weren’t really that big. Attention-getting, yes, but not mammoth or anything like that. Plus, wasn’t feeling happy and fun what she had been trying to do with the other pills?

“Hi Robert,” she drawled, throwing the door open. He looked nervously back. Robert had dressed up, put on a nice blue shirt with a very high thread count, and worn his very best khakis. He tried very hard to keep his eyes from plunging down to the melons cresting on her shirt.

“I’ve got the money, come on in,” she said, and held the door open.

Julie bent carefully at the counter, pulled out the remainder of the cash from the box, and started to count.

But every time the tally neared five hundred or so, the image of her business partners flashed, unbidden, through her head. Thrown out on the street, for lack of ready funds. Shivering in the cold. Evicted from their own apartments.

The dark-haired girl squirmed.

This wasn’t right.

Yeah, so the old Julie would’ve done it in a single heartbeat, rationalized it as what was necessary to keep body and soul together. Kit and Rory would never know it was gone. And besides, she was really stealing from Dr. Rod, and he was a dirty man with roving eyes.

It all sounded hollow.

And, she realized, why was she acting like a girl with no friends in the world, scratching out an existence with her cat and her DVDs? She had more, didn’t she? Kit liked her. Rory had taken her clothes shopping. They were friends. Clarice liked her. Everyone liked the girl with the fun pills. She was a Partner!

Julie realized that she had been counting and agonizing for a solid five minutes, and Robert hadn’t said a word. She looked back. He was stationed solidly at the rear of her ass, mesmerized by the tight lineup of curves, memorizing every stitch on the tan shorts.

Julie rolled her ass around, faced the red-faced man, and gave him her very best smile. It took his eyes off the forward thrust of her chest, focused him momentarily on her eyes. She winked at him.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” she said.

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, definitely!”

“All I’ve got is water.”

“Water sounds great!”

“Mm, I love water too,” Julie said. It sounded ridiculous, but the boy memorized every sexy syllable. She filled up a glass for him and hoped he would notice that it wasn’t washed. Then one for herself, which she spilled all over the front of her shirt. The yellow turned translucent. Julie looked down. She didn’t even remember buying that dark black demi bra.

“Oopsie!” she said, and looked down. Robert’s erection looked about ready to destroy Tokyo. “I’ve been so clumsy lately, kinda had a growth spurt.”

She leaned forward, conspiratorially. He followed. “A growth spurt in my titties,” she whispered.

“My center of whatchamacalit, gravity, all over the place. Whee! It makes me feel sooo ditzy,” Julie said. She walked over to the couch, sat on it. She realized too late that the thing was stolen from the apartment complex lobby. Robert didn’t notice at all.

“I was thinking we could talk about something,” she said, as he settled in. The poor boy couldn’t seem to make consonants and vowels fit together. The soggy shirt clung to her skin, and Julie was suddenly conscious of a sweet smoke in the air, a kind of tootsie roll scent of fucking. Robert’s nose flared.

“What did—what’re we talking about?” Robert squeaked.

“I was thinking,” Julie said, and swung neatly onto his lap. Her dripping pussy was mere inches from his straining cock. “Instead of boring rent, maybe I could interest you…”

“Yeah? Yeah?” Robert said.

Julie whispered in his ear. “I was thinking you’d be interested in a fantastic new investment opportunity in herbal supplements.”

Robert came.

* * *

“I still think you’re just having a late-in-life growth spurt,” Kit said. He burrowed in bed, underneath a sheet and two blankets. It was hot under there, but Kit needed help to hide a long line of erections. His dick sprang up at the slightest provocation—doughnuts, tire swings, pool floats, anything with a hole in it. An array of erotic still images from the past few days swam freely through his mind. The entire apartment had that distracting sex-scent.

“Growth spurt? Honey. Please,” Samantha said. She sat in her pajamas, near the dresser mirror, and poked and prodded at her own chest. “A growth spurt is where you go from flat to boobs. It’s not where you go from flat to tits. It’s got to be your pills.”

“So stop taking the pills,” Kit said. An open container sat next to Samantha’s right hand. She tapped the top of the dresser. “Uh, y-yeah, I could do that,” she said, slowly “That’s one thing I could do, if I wanted to.”

“Or do you like them?” Kit said. He stood up and trotted over to her, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. Yesterday’s back-corner casual fucking still had him quivering. “Is that why you’ve been so jealous about me? You think I’m a boob-man?”

“All guys are boob-men,” Samantha said. She squeezed her own. “Boobs. I’ve never had boobs. Just breasts. This new wardrobe is going to get expensive, you know.”

“Uhhh, about that,” Kit said. He scratched his head. It was long past time to come clean. Whatever his new job was, profitable it was not. Even with the upsurge in sales they had only accumulated four to five hundred dollars.

Samantha tapped a pill on the table. “Ohh, I know I shouldn’t take one, I just really need something to get me through class today. Maybe something else could distract me.” She licked her lips. They were dark tan and, he noticed, invitingly full. She slipped out of the chair.

“I should vacuum if I’m going to spend this much time on my knees,” Samantha said.

The phone rang. “Nooo,” Samantha whined, as he walked over to it. “You walk away, and I’m going to take care of myself,” she warned.

“Liar. It might be business.” He picked up the phone. “Hey, it’s Kit.”

“Kit? This is Rory. About yesterday. I wanted to—”

“Oh,” Kit said. He glanced over. “Lets talk about that some other time,” Rory’s lewdly pink self-help session was one of his top new fantasies. “What else is up?”

“Business stuff. Hold on. I’m getting Julie on three-way. If she’s there, this time.”

“A three-way with Julie?” Kit thought. Samantha waddled over on her knees, her tits leading the way. He put his hand over the receiver. “Not now!” he said. “I’m on the phone!”

“I’ll be really quiet,” Samantha promised. She tugged out his cock with a warm, slender hand. “See? It knows what it wants.” A single drop of pre-cum glistened on the tip.

“Hey? Is everyone there?” Julie’s voice was different. The deep, wry voice was now husky and hot, like a phone sex operator with a cigarette. “What’s going on?”

“Business report,” Rory said. Samantha pouted, stood up, and walked into the closet. “First off, I’m happy to report that I’ve lost another fifteen pounds! My ten minute runs have paid off, and it’s just been a week! So I won’t be in this morning. I need to refresh the wardrobe.”

“Ten minute runs?” Kit thought.

Samantha reappeared. Somehow she had tossed on an entire outfit in the space of a half-minute. Her hair, long and black, swung on either side of her shoulders, framing a perfectly smooth complexion. She wore a stretch miniskirt Kit had never seen before, in shiny blue, and it strained to fit over the bend of her hips. On top she wore a black buttondown, unbuttoned, that focused his eyes into the middle of her chest. She wore a pair of red heels that forced her ass up and around. Samantha swiveled around to give him a good look.

“Just a sec!” he mouthed. She made a face.

“Second thing,” Rory said. “I hired two people.”

“What?” Julie and Kit said.

“You hired people?” Kit continued. “Without our approval? Why did you do that? Who did you hire?”

Rory sounded hurt. “We needed additional staff to keep the store staffed. I hired Clarice and a girl from my sorority.”

“We don’t have the money to do that, Rory.” Kit said.

“And besides, that’s not something you can just do,” Julie added. “We’re partners.”

Samantha wet her finger and rubbed it all over the top and middle of her tits. Then she gracefully folded her legs once more, pulled out her two whoppers, and started to walk forwards.

“Gonna fuck you with my titties,” she whispered, hopeful.

Kit was tempted. Her doe-eyed look was almost enough by itself. But this was important. He stalked out of the bedroom, over to the kitchen and living room. Their cheap furniture, mostly fake wood with glued-on veneers, contrasted with the solid wood construction of the fixtures.

“Sorrrrry,” Rory said, hurt. “I’m growing this business, whether you two want to or not. You weren’t even there yesterday, Julie.”

“I just want to know how we’re supposed to pay these people. We’re down to, what, a few hundred dollars per person? And sooner or later rent is going to come due. Samantha and I are almost out of cash!” Kit said.

Kit realized that he had said that out loud.

“Oops,” he thought. He glanced around. Samantha was just now walking into the living room. Nothing in her eyes showed that she had noticed his confession. In fact, the long-legged asian girl sat on the couch, made sure he was watching, then began to caress her boobs. Her head went back, and her knees began to squeeze together rhythmically.

“I think I might have a solution for the cash problem,” Julie said.

“What?”

“Yeah. I found about twelve hundred dollars in a cash box in the office. I figured we could, you know, share it.”

“Wow,” Kit said. “That’s great!” He smiled. Samantha noticed. She frowned, then picked up a boob and fit the nipple into her mouth. Kit adjusted his cock in its thin cotton restraint. Preventing it from popping out and attacking Samantha was turning into a serious problem. “That’s a lot of coin. We can keep going for a long time, with that.”

“When did you find out about this?” Rory said. She still seemed hurt. Her voice had a blonde whine note in it.

“Yesterday. Oh, and I’ve found an investor for us! He said he wants to know what positions he could fill in the company. He’s my landlord.”

“Julie! Great job!” Kit said. Samantha abruptly stopped her self-ministrations. She stood up, walked over to the kitchen table, and slowly lowered her front half onto it. Kit was presented with a perfect bubble butt, tight and hard, covered in taut blue shiny fabric. It was like looking into the backside of the sky.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. The boy hiked up the skirt. He was not surprised to find absolutely no panties there. Just a wet, pink snatch, a long and winding trail of lubricant leaking southwards. They had never done it back-style before. But it wasn’t hard to figure out what to do. Kit drew out his dick, rubbed gently at the outsides of her lips, and grunted as she pushed right back into him.

“St-stubbed my toe,” he explained. Samantha did most of the work. He just had to hold on.

“Anyways,” Rory said. “Julie, why don’t you take over at the store? Bring the cash box, we owe some money for the new uniforms I bought.”

“You bought uniforms?” Julie said.

“You’ll love them! Kit, why don’t you come over to my Sorority? I wanted to talk with you some more.”

“Oh-okay,” Kit said. He huffed. “I’ll see you guys—real soon,” It was getting very hard to hold a conversation. Samantha keened. It filled the apartment with her orgasmic screech. Kit turned off the phone before his business partners got too much of an earful of coming girl.

For a minute the only sound was the steady whap of cock into pussy.

“You couldn’t wait five minutes?” Kit said.

“I told you,” Samantha panted. “I’ve got to get to school. Class starts in, like, twenty minutes.”

“That’s too bad,” Kit said. “Now I’m going to take my time, just because you’re being silly about business.”

“That’s… that’s okay,” Samantha said. “Take your time.” Her tits rubbed, free and loose, on the top of the table. “Kit?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there anything I can do to help you with your business?”

“Oh.” It was a good thing she couldn’t see his expression. “You heard about the money problems, huh?”

“Yeah, I did. It’ll be okay, though, right? I mean, I can help you guys out. I can do legal work or sell pills or stuff like that. I’ll just give up video games and everything. I want to be a part of it.”

Some of her fluid dripped onto the floor. Samantha had to turn to see him. The movement twisted her pussy around his cock.

“Really?” Kit said.

“Really,” Samantha assured him. “And if I’m working with you, maybe we can do a lot more like this.” She squeezed, hard.

Kit groaned.

* * *

It had been pretty clear on the phone that Kit was fucking Samantha. For the next ten minutes Julie wondered how. Was it straight-up missionary, plowing her with vigor and force, while her legs shook wildly in the air? Was it doggy style, plugging her while she knelt on the bed? Or maybe she sat on top of him, teasing the very tip with short, hungry strokes while he laid back on a pillow.

The last sent her over the edge. Then she withdrew her dripping wet fingers and decided on an outfit.

The dark red panties didn’t exactly scream “business,” but they did look good. And besides, the massive red matching bra was the only thing that came close to constraining this morning’s tits. Julie felt half-boob. The watermelons on her chest hid her feet and much of the surrounding carpet. They were topped with big brown nipples that sparked with heat whenever she stroked them.

The fashion challenge was to show that she wasn’t all tit. So she wore her new dress. It zipped up the side, made out of a white stretchy fabric, and closed in a sort of choker around her throat. The bottom was brief and frilly, and Julie tested in the mirror exactly how far she could bend over before showing the world her snatch. Not very far.

The rest of her body had changed, too. Julie knew she hadn’t been born with her plush, thick lips, pillowy things that made a smile into an engraved invitation. Her legs certainly weren’t this long and coltish.

She vaguely wondered where her body hair had gone. She hadn’t shaved it, she was pretty sure.

This time she flushed her NN-HANC supply down the toilet. Her titties were plenty big enough. And her fingers were getting cramped dealing with her ravenous sexual appetite. Plus, it was probably impolite to imagine the size and stamina of the penis of every guy she ran across. Although, she rationalized, they were probably wondering about her sexual prowess as well.

Julie was proud of herself for remembering to feed the cat.

For a Monday, the mall was packed. Gone were the struggling Seniors in walkers and high pants. Every young man and woman in the Tri-City area had decided that today was a good day to go shopping.

At least it was obvious why the men were here. Every young lady wore a smile and something flirty and hot. The tap-tap of heels was probably loud enough on its own to fill the mall. Any number of sexy legs padded down the central concourse. Tits were being worn large this year. Small frames and big girls alike showcased proud, high boobs, constrained behind straining tops and desperate buttons.

From a distance Julie wondered if the large congregation of shiny white thighs was there for a grand opening. Then she realized it was a group of females, waiting patiently for Julie’s tiny booth to open up. She counted at least twenty girls, queued happily with cheerful smiles. Many tried to fit under the sunlight from the overhead windows.

“Maybe giving the pills to everyone was a bad idea,” she thought. But something didn’t quite make sense. If they were taking the pills, why buy more? They had enough for twenty days—that was like a bunch of weeks!

On the other hand, they did look like satisfied customers. A few had their boyfriends behind them, and they gently rubbed their asses into the front of their shorts.

She snuck around and into the office. Clarice was waiting in one of the rusty chairs, along with another blonde Julie didn’t recognize.

They were dressed identically in pink.

Not all pink, Julie amended. Just the top was hot neon pink. The bustier was laced up the front, then tied with a great big bow. Two cups reached out on either side to—presumably—try and contain Clarice’s whopping tits. All it really did was give customers an easy way to count freckles on the top of her enlarged mammaries. The accompanying blonde girl looked heavily made-up, and had darkly-lidded eyes with all the intelligence of a parking meter.

“Hi Julie!” Clarice said. She hadn’t lost her bubbly attitude. “Thanks for the job! I think we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

Both girls also wore matched tan shorts. They looked like erotic parodies of a safari girl, and outlined the folds of their snatches like a fingerprint test. Both Clarice and the girl had noticeable wet stains down the front.

Julie realized that they were vibrating in their chairs.

“Wha—why are you vibrating?” she asked, startled. The hot bubbles started to circulate and stir in her head. It smelled like sex in the room. She had to struggle to keep focused.

“Oh! Sorry, Rory said to help ourselves. She said it was a company perk if we, you know, got tired or horny or bored.”

Both Clarice and the blonde reached into their shorts, wriggled around, and pulled out tiny vibrators. Both ran with clear juices.

“That’s why she got us the tan shorts, so she could tell if we were goofing off instead of selling,” Clarice said. The redhead looked deeply in earnest. Then she looked down. “Whoops. Guess we didn’t do good on that one.”

“Just—just get the table out there. And we’re raising prices. Each box is fifty dollars now,” Julie said. “No. Eighty. All of them.”

The blonde raised her hand.

“Yes? Uh, what’s your name?”

“Kelly,”

“What is it, Kelly?”

“Do I have to take the vibrator out of my ass, too?”

“Yes!”

This was getting seriously out of hand. It was one thing when she was the only one growing boobies. Now they were apparently growing a crop of—of sluts! Big-titted cock-junkies with fucking on the mind. And she herself still hadn’t gotten screwed once!

Julie lasted long enough to make sure the two ditzy girls had the table set up. Clarice was put in charge of making correct change, although many of those in line seemed happy to just hand over a wad of twenties and skip off with their purchases. By gritting her teeth and putting her left hand behind her back, Julie was able to get everything in order.s

Then she fled into the office. Julie rummaged through the drawer until she located the thickest, longest vibrator Dr. Rod had stockpiled in his cabinet of fun. She put both legs up on the desk and pulled her sopping panties away with her free hand. The other got to work. The plastic was only cold for a moment.

“Ohhhhh,” she moaned. “Oh, Kit Kit Kit.”

Why did his girlfriend have to be a problem? Girls were hot, too. Was she on the pills? She probably was. If she was, then Julie and her could rub their slick titties all over each other while Kit watched. Julie would even let—Samantha, was it?—get most of his cum.

After awhile it was too much trouble to move the vibrator in and out. Julie just sat with her knees spread to the open air and let the juicy bubbles in her head make the problems go away. The sun shone on her chest.

Some time later, her arousal somewhat quenched, she tugged her dress down and fixed her hair.

The blonde, whatever her name was, was getting reamed in the front room by some sexy guy with a tan. Julie mutely watched her squeal, her jugs squeezed from behind by the anonymous boy. Then she went back out to the mall floor.

“What—what was that?” Julie said, to Clarice. “The- the sex.” The redhead blinked innocently. “It was Rory’s idea,” she explained. “Buy ten, get to fuck me. Or her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“We tried, you said something about cocks and closed your eyes again.”

Julie didn’t remember that. But it was definitely possible. She looked around. There was a momentary lull in sales.

“Pack up, we’re going on break.”

“Okay,” Clarice said. “Big morning, huh? I stopped counting at fifteen thousand dollars.”

“Fifteen—how many boxes did we sell?” Julie’s mouth hung open.

“A Lot!” Clarice said, and broke out in giggles. “Yeah, a lot.” Rory’s employee-monitoring program was a complete failure. Clarice’s shorts were stained through with lubricant.

The two stored the table in the office. The blonde didn’t seem to notice their entry. Julie still hadn’t seen the face of the boy. She fled the room before the sex-stained office got to her. “Come on,” she ordered. Clarice trailed behind, pigtails bouncing.

Everywhere Julie looked she could see the insidious effects of their happy purple pills. Girls smiling with big, empty grins, cooing against the side of pleased, protective boyfriends. Long, heel-clad legs prancing down the concourse, exclamation points to well-rounded derrieres. And everywhere, girls with big tits, jugs that they kept covertly caressing and stroking.

She had to find out why they were selling so many pills.

She stomped into the leather store. “Oh, boots!” Clarice squealed, and reached over for a pair of chart-topping leather heels. Julie left her behind, and tried to ignore the soft scent of leather all around her. The two matched girls were absent today, and she nearly turned to leave when the dark-haired girl saw the single boy behind the counter.

Then she noticed his glassy-eyed stare. It looked familiar. He didn’t say a word when Julie walked up and glanced over the side. One of the leather twosome was crouched there, dressed all in black, lovingly tonguing at his crotch. The boy’s pants were bunched around his ankles. The girl’s boobs pooched around the sides of her knees.

“Ah, hi,” the boy said. Julie shook her head and backed away. The scent and sight of his dick was highly distracting.

“You’ve got to get these,” Clarice said, holding up a pair of snow white boots. The heels were designed by madmen with a thing against women. “They’d go perfectly with that cute dress.”

Julie stopped. They would go perfectly with her dress. In fact, they were exactly what was missing from her extended fuck-fantasies of Kit. A pair of boots, up in the air, swiveling with the extended effort of sex.

“No!” she said, struggling not to touch them. “We’ve got to keep moving.”

“Aw, try the boots on, come on,” Clarice said. “You neeeeed boots. You know you need them!”

Julie looked down. She wore the simple black heels she had first obtained with Rory. “I don’t need—“

“Boots for your boobs. Boobie boots.” Clarice sang, and grabbed at her titties.

A few minutes later, Julie wobbled out of the store. She had never walked in this kind of heel before. It took willpower and attention. Neither of which she had, after Clarice had mauled her titties in public. Tossing on the boots and running out of the store had seemed like the best option. Neither of the employees seemed to mind the shoplifting.

The crew at Cinnabon had disintegrated into giggling, sex-high teenagers taking numerous trips to the back room. An entire display had big cinnamon rolls, baked to look like a penis. Sales looked strong. “How come I got fired when I did that?” Julie wondered.

How had they sold so many pills? And why were they selling them to current customers? Each box held twenty pills. That was twenty days before they should need any more. So how come they were stocking up with big piles of cardboard boxes? Where were they all going?

Even in her current state of high distress Julie couldn’t help but notice that her all-white outfit, matched with the boots, attracted the attentive looks of many of the boys in the mall. The single ones craned their necks to watch her butt as she passed. Wiggling it for them felt far too good.

Then she was in the lingerie section of the department store. Plus and Large had been decimated by needy girls facing incredible growth spurts. Big-boobed girls stood everywhere, gingerly pulling on new models with hooks and clasps. Modesty was out the window. Bare nipples extended in all directions, hard and firm, as the women worked at proper support. Harried saleswomen flitted through the shelves with additional inventory. Even in the chaos they sported their own big smiles and newly-tight shirts.

“So that’s a D-cup now?” A nearby Mom said, to her newly large-breasted daughter. “You’re going to bankrupt me before this growth spurt is done.” The daughter looked barely out of High School, and strutted in laced-up black boots with black pantyhose.

“Kaitlyn needs a new one, too,” the girl noted.

“Hm. Maybe I should pick one up too, I’ve been very puffy today,” her Mom said. She scratched at her chest. “Nice day to be out, isn’t it? Gotta admit, I thought you were being silly, but these pills really do make a girl ready to move.”

They giggled at each other.

Julie put a hand in front of her mouth. That was it. They had come up with the perfect viral piece of merchandise. A girl felt good, full of energy, happy on a cloud. What was the first thing she did? She passed them around. This entire town was sprouting nymphomaniac bombshells, one pill at a time. They had a friends and family sales program to beat all the others.

“Don’t forget that we’re meeting your aunt and grandmother for dinner,” Mom said. “You’ve been so forgetful these past few days.”

Julie ran for the office.

* * *

Kit stared at the front of the sorority house. If what he feared was true, then walking into a house full of pill-popping nubile young women was very dangerous for his relationship.

And he had changed too. There was no denying it. Ten minutes after an exhausting go-round with Samantha, he was hard again. He had fucked her so comprehensively the expanding girl had simply sprawled on the table, leaking cum onto the carpet. Law school was out of the question. It was a question mark whether she would be able to stand for the rest of the day.

A boy stumbled out the front door. He had his pants on backwards, and looked stiff and exhausted. The scent of sex-smoke crept out of the door with him. Kit took a deep breath and walked inside.

“Kit! Good to see you!” Rory said. She waved cheerfully from a couch. Her weight loss revolution was complete. Now every curve had just enough padding to accentuate and sparkle, and her body shone with young health. Her face looked thin, pleasant, and ditzy, with wide eyes and blonde bangs. She was dressed all in bright pink, and Kit could see right up a marginal skirt into the pleasant juncture at her thighs.

He tried to keep his eyes up. But the air smelled like half a month of screaming orgasms, thick and musky. Half-naked girls in lacy panties or half-decent outfits sauntered by, delicately stepping in the thick plush carpet. If he listened Kit could hear a hushed murmur of giggling and whispering. Even as he walked towards Rory a shriek split the air, from somewhere up above them. The crazed, pink-smoke atmosphere contrasted with an English-manor interior, accentuated with wallpaper and nice couches.

“Mm, looking pretty good, partner,” Rory said. “Anything I can do for you?”

“Wha—you called me here, remember?” Kit reminded her. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh yeah. I did, didn’t I? I’ve been so forgetful. We’ll have to hire a secretary or something like that.”

“Hi Rory!” A passing girl chirped. She wore a bright green dress with useless buttons and a useless belt. But it did do a good job of lifting and supporting her pendulous breasts. Another staggering, exhausted boy walked behind her.

Kit shook his head to clear it. “Look, I’ve been thinking about it, and I think we should stop selling the pills. At least until we know more about them.”

Rory snorted. “Are you joking?” she said. “Do I need to strip naked? It isn’t clear already how much weight I’ve lost? And look how successful we are!”

“Yeah, but Jesus, Rory, your boobs! Don’t you realize what the pills have done to you? To all of us?”

“Hold on a second,” Rory said. She picked up a boob, strained her ear towards it. “Okay, my titties say that you’re being stupid. I’ve never felt better. All our customers feel fantastic. Boys love it. Girls love it.”

She reached down and dipped a finger into her easily-accessible snatch. Kit watched as she daintily licked the juice off. “I’m even sweeter now,” she said, and sucked her finger clean. “Tastes really good,”

“See, it’s that kind of thing… it’s not… normal..” Kit protested. Rory’s placid eyes kept a lock on his crotch. She kept her finger in her mouth.

“I actually wanted to talk about Julie,” Rory said. Her finger went back down into the warmth under her skirt. “You don’t mind if I play around while we talk, right?”

“What about Julie?”

“I think she’s a drag on the business. I think we should vote her out of the partnership.”

A tall girl with thick black glasses cut in between them. She looked nervous, cheeks red and flushed, and she kept her eyes on the floor. Her fingers twitched at her side, and when she spoke, it was soft, like a woken sleeper. She wore a deep red sweater and a short white frilled skirt. She actually wore sandals. Kit couldn’t remember the last time he saw a girl not in heels.

“Ummm, hi Rory,” she said.

“Well, well, well,” Rory said, gloating. “Hi Katie, darling. Kit, this is Katie, our Sorority’s President. Katie didn’t like my sales plan a few days ago. She said it was stupid.”

“Yeah—I, uh, I did.” Katie said. She seemed to be all blush. “But about that. I kind of wanted to, you know, get some of those pills. Because we’re all sisters here, right?”

“Oh, we are,” Rory said, nodding in earnest. “Is that why you called me a bimbo and laughed at me yesterday?”

“I’m, like, really really sorry about that,” Katie said. “I have money. I can pay you. I’ll—I’ll do what you want.”

Rory shifted her eyes towards Kit. “There is one thing I’ve always kind of wanted you to do,” she admitted. The curvy blonde reached behind her back and pulled out a box. “See this? It’s my last box. Last one. All for you. Kit, what are we charging for these, again?”

“Ten dollars?” Kit said.

Rory shook her head. “Nooo, I think for Katie, I think the cost is going to be to make me cum.” She flipped up the front of her skirt. Katie stared at the cheerful, exposed lips. “Come on, Katie. It’s not like it’s very hard, these days.”

“And!” she said, as Katie began to sit next to her on the couch. “No hands.”

“Ohhh, Rory, this isn’t fair,” Katie moaned, but she sunk to her knees regardless. “I just want a pill. Everyone else gets one.”

“Yeah, but I’m horny. Come on,”

Katie hovered between Rory’s thighs. “It smells.. it smells good, at least,” Katie said, half-puzzled. Then she stuck out a pink tongue and gingerly touched it to Rory’s snatch.

The effect on the blonde was electric. She sighed and slumped back in the couch. One hand reached up under her shirt, and the other twirled at her hair.

“Mm, just like that, Prez,” she said. Rory opened her eyes and looked at Kit. She struggled to focus. “Okay, Kitie. Stacy. You gotta fuck her too.”

It wouldn’t be difficult. After her earlier reluctance Katie seemed fully engrossed in lapping up the steady flow of juices from underneath Rory’s engorged clit. Her ass wiggled in the air, barely covered by a flimsy piece of fabric.

“Rory, no,” Kit said. He put his hand in front of his pants.

“We’re—we’re partners. She’s got a bunch of holes,” Rory took a moment to moan. “So—so take your pick.”

Kit put his hands on the girl’s ass. She barely seemed to notice. “I’m just looking,” he told himself, flipping up her skirt. At least she was wearing panties, although they had the now-familiar scent and stain of steady lubrication.

“No- no,” he stammered, pulling away. “Look, it’s these pills, we should stop and think…”

Rory came. Color drained from her face, and her fevered screaming made the whole house quiet for a long moment. Then the same sound of quiet, constant fucking refilled the compound. Katie finished off with a long, satisfied lick, picked the box from Rory’s unresisting hand, and walked away. Her glasses were smeared. She had one hand underneath her skirt before she had even left the room.

Kit waited for Rory to come around. It took a few minutes.

“Wha—what were we talking about?” Rory said. She struggled to put words together. “Were you about to fuck me?”

“You wanted to get rid of Julie. I’m telling you, we need to stop selling while we figure out what’s going on.”

“No—no way,” Rory said. She patted her skirt back down into place. It seemed like a waste of time. “Julie’s just a dumbo. She doesn’t do anything good. You and me, we can build a big, long, hard business—with lotsa money!”

Kit’s cellphone rang. Rory put her shattered brains back together while Kit answered. His face turned to stone.

“That was Julie,” he said, numbly. “She—apparently we’re out of pills.”

“Out—of pills?” Rory snapped back to reality. “We’re out of pills? We can’t be out of pills. We need those pills.” She looked panicked.

“I’m heading to the office,” Kit said. His balls felt like overinflated balloons. “You stay here.”

“Or,” Rory said. She resumed sucking on her index finger. It seemed to calm her down. “You stay here, Kitie, and I’ll go take care of things. I’ll bet Julie is lying. She must want them all for herself. Hey! Girls!”

A trio of obedient girls with identical satisfied expressions walked out of the kitchen. Only two were wearing bottoms, one a pair of black biker shorts that looked like spraypaint, and the other a white pencil meant for someone with far smaller hips. The last girl still had her tube dress around her waist.

“I’m going to go get more pills. You three make him very happy,” she said. The girls lit up at the mention of more purple pharmaceuticals. They eyed Kit with identical, hungry expressions.

Rory patted down her body. “Where’s my car keys?”

Kit backed away, straight into the soft, inviting tits of a fourth girl. She wrapped her hands around and found his dick. “Welcome to Eta Theta,” she crooned. Kit closed his eyes. It would be so easy to sit down, let four cooing girls enjoy everything he had to offer. His hyped-up libido assured him that he could satisfy each and every one of them. All he had to do was sit down.

The gentle hands on his dick felt so very good.

* * *

“I can’t believe we’re out of pills,” Julie said. She stood in the main office. Clarice fidgeted next to her.

The office was completely barren. The long stacks of brown boxes were emptied out, littered the stained carpet with broken cardboard. Julie tried not to panic. Yes, this meant that she didn’t have any pills, but she had quit the hooter-enhancing things anyway. For sure. That wasn’t why she had checked every single box for an extra set.

“Aw, that’s not good,” Clarice said. She brightened. “At least we made lots of money.”

“The money!” Julie brightened. “Clarice, where’s the money?”

Clarice tried to think. She struggled. Julie sympathized. “Um, I think Kelly has it.”

“That bimbo?” Julie walked towards the door. She took three strides, then tripped in the unfamiliar white boots. Her tits nearly bounced on the floor. “Owie,” she said, stumbling to her feet.

Kelly and her horny friend had left the building.

Julie walked back inside and sat down at the desk. She stared at the colossal pair weighing down her chest. Now she had nothing. No money, no pills, nothing but a thick pair of tits and a libido like a jet engine. Oh, and an attention span like a squirrel.

“Clarice… go home,” she said. She had to think. And the way things were going, it would take her awhile.

Okay, so she had huge titties and a sexy body. And everyone who saw her wanted to fuck her, because she was hot. Plus she came like a nuclear warhead. Also she had money—well, had had money—and a steady job and she was pretty sure Kit would want to fuck her if she could just get him alone. And every time she considered a return to a life where she saved old pasta to reheat four days later, her entire body shivered with horror.

Downsides.. she was very ditzy. Every few minutes her thoughts drifted to a happy cloud of lewd acts. If she left her hands alone they wandered to her nipples.

Kit rushed through the door and slammed it shut.

“Kit!” she cooed. He would make everything better!

“Julie! Rory is trying to pull off a hostile takeover. Right here, right now. I got here about two minutes ahead of her. Help me bar the door.”

“She took all the money, too!” Julie said. “We had fifteen thousand dollars in big bills, and she stole it!”

Kit, shocked, took his shoulder off the door. “Fifteen thousand—“

Rory burst in. She was escorted like a pageant queen, six fellow sorority girls accompanying her like bimbo royalty. Kelly was with them, holding a huge leather purse. All of them wore mismatched outfits that looked fabulous on their oversensual bodies, and thick heavy makeup. Their mascara-rich looks were intimidating.

“You. Leave,” she said, to Julie. “We’re taking over the business. You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire her,” Kit said. He stood in front of Julie, protectively. “We’re partners.”

“You too, Kit? I just wanted her gone. Kelly? The money, please?” The heavy-lidded blonde handed the bulging purse over to the now-thin partner. She looked at Julie. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars for your time. That’s a good deal. But face it, people. I’m the one holding this operation together. It was all my idea in the first place.”

Was it? Julie tried to think that far back, but the memory got lost along a path lined with masturbation sessions and hot boys.

“You aren’t getting rid of her—of us,” Kit said. “Julie came up with all our good ideas. You came up with a pink sign and a sales team full of sluts.”

Rory folded her arms. “So what are you going to do?” the blonde sneered. “Kick me out? I’ve got the money and the employees. We’re taking over. Kit, you stay. But you can’t wear pants around the office.”

Julie had an idea.

She snuggled behind Kit. His sharp, male scent awoke Julie’s fires. Her tits got in the way, pressed against his back, but the dark-haired girl managed to reach around and into his belt. She pulled it out.

“Keep her talking,” she whispered, into Kit’s ear.

Then her hand began to gently, firmly, pull up and down the length of his dick. Every girl in the room focused on it.

“You don’t have to do this,” Kit said, increasingly distracted. Julie was pleased to feel her hand becoming sticky. He was leaking for her. “We were all partners. There’s plenty to go around.”

“I don’t—I don’t want to share,” Rory said. She looked increasingly distracted. “I want it all. All of you.”

“Ah-ha,” Julie thought. That explained it. She picked up the tempo. A few of the girls took a few involuntary steps towards the two of them.

“Tell you what. Rory, you can be Head of Sales,” Kit said. “That’s what you’re good at. I’ll be Head of Finance, and Julie here can be Company President.”

“President?” Julie said, startled. She nearly lost her rhythm.

“You’re the one with the ideas,” he assured her.

“Head of sales?” Rory said, weakly. Her squad had lost all concentration when presented with a hard, leaking cock. The smell of sex was overwhelming. It filled every pore, every part of Julie’s overheated mind.

“And you know what you have to do to be Head of Sales, right?” Julie interrupted.

“Ohhh, I—I guess so,” Rory said. She didn’t even bother to kneel before falling onto Kit’s penis. She sucked at it like a starving woman, licked hard with both hands wrapped around his ass.

Julie walked over to the desk and pulled out the cabinet of sex toys. “Something for everyone!” she declared.

Soon the air was so thick it was getting a little hard to breath.

* * *

It was some time later. Julie concentrated on the delightful sensation of Kit’s dick. The much-abused desk felt warm against her back, slick with a spray of lubricant from one or another of their growing employees. She grunted as he shoved into her once more. It felt like Christmas in September, and ripples of sweet pleasure arced down her back.

“I like your dick,” she said. In her present state, that was high literature.

“Uh-huh,” Kit said. He did this thing where he moved down, and then up, and for the next thirty seconds Julie saw wonderful, shining stars. The only problem was that her boobies weren’t getting enough attention. They always wanted attention.

“Company President.” It sounded pretty good. Of course, they had no inventory and no way to get more, and it was probably a bad idea to sell more pills anyways.

“Why are your hands so sticky?” she asked, when Kit hauled her legs farther back.

He shuddered. “I had to do some quick thinking to get a bunch of sex-crazed girls off me. Luckily I’m quick with my hands.”

Julie used some muscles she didn’t even know she had. Kit grunted, lost control, and spurted warm seed all over her insides. Julie shivered as the gooey sensation spread through her hot snatch, through her entire body. The dress was good about getting wrapped around her midsection. She looked happily at the white heels wavering in the air.

“You know we can’t do this anymore,” Kit said, when they had calmed down.

“What?” Julie said.

“The sex. The business. I’ve got a girlfriend. We’ve got nothing to sell. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but our product turns people into sex-mad sluts.”

“With big boobies.”

“Right. With big boobies.”

He was right, of course. Julie tugged down her dress and found her underwear, way over on the other side of the room.

Where she found a box of NN-HANC.

Somehow it had been shoved alongside the wall, hidden behind a desk.

“One last box,” she said, tossing it to Kit. He grabbed it.

“Guess this is it, then.” He shook his head. “It’s been a wild ride. Literally.”

The door to the office opened. “Excuse me? Is anyone here?”

It was Misty.

* * *

She shimmered inside in what, for her, was probably business casual. She wore a tight white blouse, with business-like buttons, and a brief black pencil. If it wasn’t for her mammoth boobs and shimmering hair, she might’ve even passed for an office worker.

Kit glumly recognized what a sign it was that her overstretched, sexpot body seemed almost normal, now.

“I’m just here for my things,” the secretary said, meekly. “And, um, I wanted to see if I could get any more of my prescription. I just ran out at home.”

Kit looked down at the box in his hand. He looked at Julie. “Give it,” the voluptuous girl said. She hefted her own tits. “I don’t need to get any bigger.”

“Oh, great!” Misty squealed. “My energy has been way down all today.” She popped one into her mouth, right in front of them. “Thanks!”

“Misty, wait,” Kit said. He rubbed at his eyes. “Do you.. do you like the way you are? Now? Compared to, you know, what you used to be like?”

“Oh, of course!” Misty gushed. “I was in this boring job, with a boring life, and a boring everything. Now I have all these neat outfits, and friends, and boys, and the best job where I get to fuck all day long, and stuff. I mean, I did have a job. Before now.” She shuffled in her heels. The delicate three-inch confections were probably the lowest pair she owned.

“You don’t mind.. the side-effects?”

“Well yeah, at first,” Misty admitted. “But Dr. Rod said to me, Misty, rub your titties and tell me you don’t like it. And you know what? He was so right. Plus it cleared up that cancer I had. Okay, bye guys! Tell Dr. Rod I said hi!”

She strode out the door, her Olympic-level ass hovering behind her. Kit blinked, then ran out the door.

“Misty, what do you mean, it cleared up your cancer?”

* * *

“She had Hodgkin’s Lymphoma!” Kit shouted, to the world at large. Misty sat in the waiting room, back in her old chair. She had been rehired on a provisional basis. Julie held the thick purse and counted out dollars. It was easier if you counted in terms of stacks. So far she had counted fifteen stacks.

“She called it Mr. Hodgkin’s Pony,” Julie said.

“Whatever! The Doctors gave her a 50/50 chance of survival! And it disappeared completely!”

Her boy paced in the middle of the room.

“We’ve got to sell it, now. She even knows where Dr. Rod got it from. It cures cancer! It probably cures a lot of things! That Erlich woman—she looked twenty-five! And she was in her forties!”

“And it turns people into boobs,” Julie reminded him. Not that she really minded, herself. Her pussy still glowed.

Kit shrugged. “Side-effects may include, and so on! I’ve got to call this guy.” Misty had remembered the number of Dr. Rod’s distributor.

Julie stood up and tottered towards him. She put one hand on the phone. “Before you do that,” she said. “I’ve got a few questions for you about Samantha.”

“What for?”

“Trust the Company President on this one.”

* * *

Samantha did a lot of things, but mostly what she did was wait for Kit to come home. She cleaned the dishes, vacuumed the carpet, swept, and scrubbed viciously at the telltale signs on the rug of her own violent orgasm.

She didn’t know quite what to do. Law school, that horrible grey hacking cough of an institution, was just too boring for words. Sitting at home left her too antsy and full of energy to think straight.

What she really wanted to do was help Kit. He had looked so troubled, fucking her from behind as she spasmed all over his cock.

It was the first of the month. Rent was due. She had checked her bank account and found nothing in it.

She ran when there was a knock at the door. A part of her registered that she wore only the same sex-stained shiny blue miniskirt from this morning, and her taut black shirt. But there was a good chance it was Kit.

It was one of Kit’s coworkers, Julie. She stepped inside before Samantha had a chance to object, balanced on ridiculous white heels. Up front her unrestrained boobs led the way, clasped behind a long white dress. Samantha wrinkled her nose. Even after her recent expansion she wasn’t nearly that large.

“Kit sent me,” the girl said, before anything else. She gestured to the kitchen table. “Can we sit down?”

“Yes? What?” It was exactly this vision of hot sexuality that had her so worried about Kit. Julie tapped the table and looked carefully around the too-large apartment. “Nice place,” she noted.

“What is it?” Samantha said. She sniffed. Julie smelled like something familiar. Like a sensual perfume that seemed to ignore personal space.

“Kit sent me. You said you wanted to help the business, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I did say that.” Samantha admitted. Anything for Kit.

Julie reached into her purse and drew out a clipped-together sheaf of bills. “Here’s rent for this month, first of all. Now, put your arms up. I need to measure your chest size.”

Samantha was dazzled by the glimpse into financial security. “Wait, put my arms up?”

Julie nodded, then snapped a tape measure between her hands. “For the uniform.”

What was that scent? It intoxicated, reminded Samantha of wild mornings with her boyfriend, of unrestrained heights of pleasure. “Okay,” she said. If Kit wanted her to.

The big-boobed girl walked behind her. Her slender, warm hands started to unbutton Samantha’s shirt. “Why don’t you count the money while I do this?” she suggested.

“Alright,” Samantha said. It was getting hard to concentrate. She picked up the stack and started to try and count. The girl kept losing track around three hundred or so, as Julie carefully pulled open every single button. Then she had to put down the stack as Kit’s business partner tugged her shirt off her back. The apartment air felt cool on her exposed skin, and she shivered. The scent grew stronger.

The chill metal of the tape measure jolted her nipples. “Not bad,” Julie said. “Have you been growing recently?”

“Oh yeah, it’s those silly pills,” Samantha said. She had taken one just a half-hour ago, while watching old Hallmark Channel reruns. With one finger teasing her breasts.

“Let me check for consistency and firmness, then,” Julie said. Her hands expertly cupped Samantha’s new breasts, kneaded and felt around the nipples. Samantha lost her count once again. And she was nearly at six-hundred.

“Hey, what is this?” she said, weakly.

“Don’t you want to help Kit?”

“Yes, but—“

“Then we need to get your waist size.” Suddenly Samantha was standing upright, letting Julie pull the same warming tape around her tight, thin waist. And again around her hips. “Could you hold your boobs for me? They mess up my count if they’re bouncing around,” Julie said.

“Okay,” Samantha said. Something about this seemed off, but that same hot scent made it so much easy to relax and accept. Whenever she felt about to object, a flicker of keen pleasure made smiling the better option. She fondled her own chest. It was nicer when Kit did it.

Julie eyed the tape appreciatively. “Not bad. Okay, now we’re going to check your sensitivity, then I’ve got a question to ask you.”

She pulled a vibrator out of her purse. Samantha stared at it. “I’m not—what do you think you’re—“

“Yeah, Kit thought you might question this. So he wrote you a note.” She passed it up. It read, in Kit’s clean handwriting, “The bearer of this note is the President of New-U Enterprises.”

The vibrator hit Samantha’s clit around the sixth word. She sat down hard, tried to muster up her fading strength to pull it out. Shockwaves of dancing excitement extended up and around her body.

“You… sure Kit said this was okay?” She said, tentatively. It was hard to imagine, right now, why it could be wrong.

By way of answer Julie angled it up and deeper. Samantha let her knees slide further apart.

“Okay, now I have some questions for you,” Julie said. “First, do you have a spare room you aren’t using?”

Samantha fought to answer. Smoky bubbles of lust popped in her head. “Umm, there’s the junk room. It’s not very big though.”

“Uh-huh. Second question. Are any of you allergic to cats?”

“Pussies,” Samantha thought. She started to push back against the relentless touch and feel of the thick wand in her snatch.

“No allergies.”

“And your lease allows subletting, right? Without restrictions? And you have a second bathroom?”

“Wha- what do you mean?” Samantha gasped. Her orgasm was so close.

“Last question. Do you want to wake up to THIS every morning?” Julie pushed it all the way to the back, then up. Samantha overloaded. She nearly fell off her chair. Julie propped her back against the chair. Then she took out the wet vibrator and placed it inside herself, for safekeeping.

“I’m going to go pack up all my stuff,” she said, although she doubted that Samantha heard it. “Be back soon.”

* * *

The voice on the other line was harsh and electronically masked. “Vorparnuit Pharmaceuticals.”

“This is New-U,” Kit said. The window was open to air out the office. He tapped a pencil against the desk. “We’d like to order… lets say… twelve dozen pallets of NN-HANC. For immediate delivery. We’ll pay cash.”

“What?” The voice lost its composure. “Who is this? You aren’t Dr. Rod. Twelve pallets? Are you insane?”

“Dr. Rod had a medical emergency and is still recovering. I’m the new Chief Financial Officer. We need twelve pallets this week, and another for next week. Then I thought we’d discuss long term delivery.”

“Are you mad?” the distorted voice shrieked. “Are you just giving them away? Do you know what they do to people?”

Kit winced. “Can you turn off the electronic stuff? We’re doing business here.”

“Volparnuit prizes its security, sir,” the voice warned. “If you’ve compromised us, we will be forced to terminate our arrangement… and you.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Look, you’re just some guy in a basement, aren’t you?”

There was a shocked silence on the other end of the conversation. When it resumed, the electronic mask was gone, and the voice was normal, if whiney.

“How did you know?”

“Because anyone with any business sense would’ve realized that you’re sitting on a gold mine! You made a pill that cures cancer! And heart disease!”

“Oh, all that,” the man said, as if those were around the same level as “may cause gas.” “NN-HANC turns girls into girly-girls. If the government found out what we were selling...”

Kit counted to five. “Look, if bigger boobs and an overactive sex drive are the side effects of stopping death, I somehow think we’ll be okay.” He sighed. “What was Dr. Rod paying you per box?”

“$5”

“I’ll quadruple it. And you’ll get a percentage of sales.”

The voice hesitated. “Well, I mean, Brenna did want me to get the trampoline, and Danni and Joanna did want me to get them new bikinis.”

“Girls are expensive,” Kit sympathized.

The voice cracked. “And you’ll take care of any legal problems?”

“I’ve got an ace legal team waiting for me at home,” Kit assured him. “NN-HANC-DD. Solves all of your medical needs. Side-effect: big boobs and sunny disposition.” He smiled.

“Sir, I can honestly say I’m not worried about business in the slightest.

* * *

Robert checked his tie, then knocked on the door. Only then did he notice the envelope taped to it.

It read, in pink handwriting:

“Hi Bobby!

I’ve decided to move out. Thanks for being such a great landlord! I found a new place that loves pussies, and cats.

Love, Julie

PS: One of our employees needed a new place, so I’m subletting.”

Attached was all of the back rent, in slightly foxed bills. He frowned. The door opened just before he could throw the flowers he clasped in his left hand to the ground.

A bubbly vision in red pigtails looked down at him. She wore a pink chemise and matching panties. The new tenant stuck out a hand. “Hi,” she said, “My name is Clarice!”

“Clarice,” he stammered. Bobby stuck out a hand. “..Flowers?”

EPILOGUE:

“Sweet Heavens, I… where am I? What’s going on?”

“You’re in the hospital, Dr. Rod. Remember me?”

[Pause]

“I’m sorry, dear, but I can’t see past your boobies, there. If you could just get off of me and stand aside.”

“Oh. Alright. Here. I’m Rory, you hired me just before you had your heart attack. I’m Head of Sales now!”

“What? Head of—what are you discussing, girl? What is the meaning of all this?”

“The President and CFO sent me to make you a very good offer. Very good. You’re going to sell us your business. You’re going to go on a very long cruise.”

“Listen, my dear! I don’t know what’s knocking around in those tiny brain cells, but as soon as I can get out of this bed…”

“Uh-huh. Can’t move, can you? The girls sure are heavy. Here’s our best offer for your business.”

[Reading] “This.. this can’t be right. It’s just two tickets and.. seven figures? That junky office isn’t worth two grand!”

“That’s not money, silly. That’s a phone number. Misty’s number. I think our secretary would really like a long vacation in the Caribbean. You’re going to rest and get better with her. She specifically requested you.”

“This is preposterous—“

“I’m also authorized to throw in this.”

“What, some of those titty pills? What am I supposed to do with those?”

“What do you think cleared up your heart disease? And Dr. Rod? One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“The President and CFO have given me the okay to throw in… me. For the next two hours. If you accept the offer right now and sign the contract. This offer expires in two minutes.”

[PAUSE]

“You make a.. persuasive offer, young lady.”