Passages
She was bigger.
It was the first thing Ray noticed when he'd wakened from his post-coital nap. Jasmin lay beside him, sleeping soundly on her back. The cover sheet was draped across her legs, and pelvis, leaving her upper body exposed. Her breasts, and muscles, looked to be significantly fuller, and more solid, then he recalled them having been before they'd drifted off to sleep. She had definitely grown larger.
He still could barely comprehend her reaction to the serum, and now this. Why? he asked himself. How? He reasoned that once the formula was established in her system, it would elicit a response. After that, he had expected that the affects would taper off over time as her system gradually eliminated it. But than he recalled that that had been the theory, and that theory had been based on a balanced formula.
The second thing he noticed was that she'd managed to, somehow, cram her now enormous physique into one of those little satin tops she liked so much, and which had always made her look so damned sexy. Ray recalled how they'd just fit her nicely when the circumference of her chest had been less than half of what it had to be now. He was just wondering how she'd accomplished this feat of dress when she happened to stir. Shifting her position slightly, Jasmin moved an arm to reveal a gaping tear in the nightie's side seam. The sight made Ray smile as he imagined the opposing seam to be in a similar condition.
He lay beside her, watching her as she slept. So beautiful, he thought. She'd always been, and still she was, so beautiful. Her chest rose, and fell, with her slow, deep, rhythmic breathing, one hand rested on her tummy, the other up by her ear. Her face had lost its roundness, he thought, some features appearing stronger than before. She looked older, more mature. He couldn't believe how full, and thick, her muscles had become. Her body was a maze of exaggerated arcs that flowed gracefully from one shape, to the next, and to the next, and to the next.
Release.
The word occurred to Ray as his eyes vacillated pleasantly between studying her, and ravishing her. She'd been released from genetic restraints, he considered. Jasmin's obvious reaction to that release implied that evolutionary genetics did, in fact, impose certain limits. Why? Was there a purpose to it? Was there some kind of balance that had to be maintained? Or was it just an arbitrary inhibitor to be shaken off in man's pursuit of . . . what?
Her body had been freed of restraints. Had her mind been, likewise, liberated? Had she grown mentally as she had physically? Was her I.Q. higher? Would she become a genius? Was she already?
And what about the moral, and cultural, restraints society imposes on the individual - the little, civilizing things that tell a person, 'Don't'? Had she been freed of those as well? Would her perception of 'right' and 'wrong' transform as had the rest of her? Would she become indifferent to others? Would she come to disregard those around her? Everything was so different now.
He knew, for sure, of one restraint she'd left behind. The fading embers of his rapture made Ray smile. He slipped a hand along her tummy, his fingers tripping over a deep mosaic of articulations comprised of thick muscle, and dense sinew. He pressed a bit, and gently shook her.
"Hey Imp," he called to her quietly. "Time to wake up."
Jasmin stirred. Her huge body gently quaked, and writhed, as her mind relinquished sleep for wakefulness. Ray admired the way her nightie grew taut over her breasts as she drew a breath. At length she stilled, and opened her eyes to him.
"Hi there," he greeted her.
A moment to perceive, then she smiled sleepily, and bid him, "Hi."
Ray moved close to buss her cheek.
"Playtime's over," he informed her.
Jasmin's mental focus shifted. The smile faded as her eyes looked closely at Ray's face.
"Then it wasn't a dream," she quietly stated more than asked.
Ray wasn't certain of the context of her question. He decided to answer soberly, "No, it wasn't."
Jasmin turned on to her side toward him. She looked deeply worried as she raised a hand, and lightly touched his cheek.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Ray looked at her, and smiled.
"Your strength is going to take some getting used to," he told her, "but . . . you did just fine."
Jasmin's eyes went out of focus.
"Several times," she said in wonderment. She looked at him. "I don't know what came over me," she confessed. "I've never been like that before."
Ray smiled again.
"I know," he said.
The novelty of it frightened her.
"You're sure I didn't - I mean, that you - was it - y'know . . . "
Ray drew close, enfolded her and drew her closer.
"Will you stop apologizing," he lovingly chastised her. Their eyes found one another. "You did just fine."
It was the one that counted.
"Deedee," she breathed, relaxing into him.
Ray pulled away, and patted her hip.
"C'mon," he prompted, "let's get up, and make something outta this day while we still can, huh?"
With that, he rolled out of bed, and began to don his underwear. Jasmin watched him as she rose to prop herself on an elbow.
"You mean to say that we haven't already?" she knowingly wanted to know.
The question caught Ray off balance - much the same as did a leg hole in his jockeys. He struggled, hopped, then fell back onto the bed.
"I was speaking figuratively," he offered, wrestling to get all of his toes through the target leg hole.
"Um-hm . . . ," his woman murmured in a melodically dubious tone.
"I meant with specific reference to constructive activity," Ray attempted to clarify without clarifying. The wrestling match continued. The jockeys were definitely winning.
"Oh," said the observing Jasmin, adding a dubious nod to her dubious tone. "'Constructive activity' . . . I see . . . "
"Wul, that's not to say we didn't . . . I mean . . . y'know - aw, fuckit."
He gave up, and lay still on his back. One leg hole of his shorts was up to his one knee. The other leg hole was tangled around the other leg's great toe. Jasmin's face appeared over his, upside down, her hair providing a curtain of intimacy between them.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"For finally shutting up."
Man, she looks weird upside down, he thought.
"Happy birthday," he offered up to her.
Gol, he looks weird upside down, she thought.
"Thanks," she graciously accepted, and then she kissed him.
"You want me to help you get dressed?" she asked.
"No," he said, declining her most solicitous offer. He saw her head tilt slightly.
"You want me to help you get undressed?"
Ray sneered.
"Been there, done that," he noted with carefully measured apathy.
Jasmin's Asian features darkened.
"Bugger," she stated, and then she left his field of view.
Jasmin sat up as Ray resumed dressing. She let her feet to the floor, closed her eyes, then reached for the ceiling for her waking stretch. She felt a great gust of air rush through her nose as she breathed in as deeply as she could. She was amazed at how long it took to fill her lungs sufficiently. She felt a tightness gather over her chest, and across her back. She lowered her hands to flex her arms in hard with elbows splayed. The stretch felt good, but the tightness increased for some reason. Squeeze the shoulders back, force them down hard.
Ripping sounds, and then the sudden relaxation in the tightness, opened her eyes. Jasmin felt movement on her chest, and instinctively clapped a hand over it to keep what remained of her nightie from slipping away completely. Then she realized that she'd touched herself way too soon. Her chest wasn't where it was supposed to be - even before - well, after before . . . her chest - it was
Jasmin's mind blanked out as she beheld herself. Her hand maintained the remnants of her nightie against her breasts as her eyes gazed into the cavernous depths of the highest, fullest womanly cleavage she'd ever seen.
Is . . . that . . . me? she wondered.
She felt her hand against herself.
Yes, it's me.
"Ray?"
"I'm right here," he said.
Ray was at her feet, looking up at her. He'd heard the nightie tear, and knew that she'd want an explanation.
Jasmin felt his touch before she saw Ray crouched in front of her where she sat. Her attention focused on him as he took her hands in his. Each of them immediately noticed a difference; her hands felt larger in his, his hands felt smaller in hers. She didn't even feel the nightie slip away from her as she searched his face, his eyes, for an answer to, "What happened?"
Ray searched himself frantically, but the answer wasn't there. So many things had happened that he hadn't considered. He'd evolved his theory along the course of a very carefully pre-planned sequence of events. This would happen in this particular way, and so that would happen in that particular way, and so on, and so on, until the final, culminating event. But now, one single differing variable had blown the whole thing to hell. He didn't know how to begin accounting for what had happened, or what seemed to be still happening.
"You've had another reaction to the formula," was the best he had to offer at the moment. They held each other's gaze. "You've gotten bigger."
Her look told him that she needed more from him. He wished that he had more to give.
"How?" she softly asked of him, and then she asked him, "Why?"
They were questions that he'd asked himself a hundred times, or more, by then. He had to look away as he quietly confessed, "I don't know."
Words that hardly satisfied, but then, what words would've? Jasmin realized that he was every bit as much in the dark as she was in explaining the incredible metamorphosis she'd undergone. Maybe an easier question, centering on the obvious, would yield a better answer.
"What do I look like?" she asked him.
Ray took a moment to look her over, but he already knew how he was going to answer; honestly, no matter what, just as she would expect of him. His eyes passed over the extraordinary mounds of hard, powerful flesh that had tremendously expanded her form. He could scarcely believe what he saw as being real. He wondered how he would see her once the shocking oddity of her appearance wore off. For the moment though, he could only tell her that, "You look like you, but more." The ease with which he spoke surprised him. She looked odd, yes, but it was hardly displeasing. "You're still the same," he found to say, honestly, just as she would want. "You're just as beautiful, just as dear, only now . . . you're a whole lot more."
Jasmin hung on his every word. It helped, but still, the changes she'd undergone were an awful lot for her to deal with. Hours ago, she was as she had always been. Now, she felt a strange, and yet familiar, stirring which she suspected had only just begun to ripen. Everything was, so suddenly, so different.
Ray had an idea. He stood up, and tugged on her hands.
"C'mon," he told her with a knowing smile, "I wanna show you something."
With their large, vanity mirror being steps away, Jasmin suspecting what he had in mind.
"No," she softly pleaded. She pulled a hand free, and took up the nightie from her lap that she might hide, at least, a portion of her nakedness.
Without argument, Ray released her other hand, then raised his own hands from his sides.
"Okay then," he said offhandedly, "sit there for the rest of yer life."
At once, the sadness left Jasmin's face. She regarded the man who, only a moment ago, had been so sympathetic, and supportive, but who now had, unexpectedly, turned into a real jerk. She was about to tell him as much as she clutched the nightie to her breasts with both hands. She stood up to face Ray but, as she did, both of them saw that she now stood almost eye to eye with him.
"Oh God," Jasmin uttered in a small, frightened voice. Her knees felt suddenly weak.
"It's alright," Ray was quick to tell her. He took her by the arms to prevent her sitting down again. He could barely curve his hands around them they'd become so full.
"It's going to be okay," he continued, but the surprise of her being so much taller left him speechless beyond that. With nothing more to say, or do, he leaned forward, and kissed her. Jasmin did not respond. She was simply in too much of a state of shock over . . . everything. She came to her senses as he parted from her, wishing that she'd shared instead of just received. She tried to make it up to him, pursuing for another touch of softness. Ray did not disappoint her. The nightie fell to the floor between them as they each clung to their utmost source of comfort. Once renewed, they still felt lost, but not quite so afraid.
"Now you don't have to stand on your toes," Ray observed.
Jasmin managed a tentative smile. It was kind of nice to be able to reach him without being on demi pointe. She felt a tugging on her fingers as he moved away from her.
"C'mon," he softly urged. She hesitantly followed as he gently pulled her toward the vanity with its mirror. "Lemme show you how beautiful you are."
She wanted to believe him, but as he presented her to the mirror, she could only gasp as she faced another new reflection.
"Oh - my - God!" Jasmin uttered in a shocked, muted voice.
Not only was she taller, but her body was much more massively developed than it had been before. Her dark, satiny skin appeared to strain against the volumes of muscle just beneath it. Even standing with her feet comfortably parted, her inner thighs were pressed together. Her arms stood noticeably away from her sides, forced to yield to the broad flare of her back, and the powerful bulk of her upper arms. She could scarcely make out her collar bones under the arrogant swells of muscle attached to them.
"I'm so big," she murmured, awestruck at her own appearance. She couldn't take in the sum of herself as her eyes wandered over her reflected image.
"So . . . big," she said again.
She was more of a monster now - an even bigger freak. Her self assessment crushed her as her head bowed low, and her posture stooped.
"I think I see a problem," Ray said reflectively over her shoulder.
Jasmin raised her sorrowful eyes enough to meet his in the mirror.
"You're assuming," he told her.
"What?" she asked uncaringly.
"You're assuming that, because you don't look the way you did, that the way you look now must be bad."
"You're calling this - good?" she wanted to know.
"That's just my point," he explained. "You're letting the buttheads with the fashion magazines tell you, 'Only this, and nothing else'."
Jasmin's self-recriminating visage didn't change, but she did frown a bit.
"Elaborate," she requested of him.
"Wul," Ray started, groping his way along, "it's like, they say that a woman can only look a certain way, y'know, model thin, bulimia with missing ribs, and all. But, at the same time, they're also saying that it's wrong for a woman to look any other way. Ya see, they got this program that's a sure fire winner to make them rich, and famous, but which has nothing to do with anything beyond itself. It's all geared to making women look as dumb as possible, because . . . well, as everyone knows, that's the way they're most attractive. I mean, the big question Paris designers try to answer every season is, 'how stupid can we get them to make themselves look this year', because, I mean, let's face it, if a woman looks stupid enough, there's bound to be some rich guy who's up to taking pity on 'er. So they get 'er looking all stupid, and ridiculous, ya see, so when the rich guy gets a look at 'er, he's going think, 'My God, this chick isn't gonna make it to the end of the week if I don't take care of her'. So then he jumps in, and takes the bait, they get married, and they live deservedly ever after. The important thing to note in all of this, however, is that it's men who make the standards, and it's women who follow those standards, which is, after all, the way it should be, because, let's face it, women need all the help they can get - "
"Excuse me?"
"Now freeze."
Jasmin had turned to face him, her stature having steadily risen along with her anger over what Ray was saying.
"Stay just like that," he told her.
She hated it when Ray got into his misogynistic bent. He knew every bit as well just how intensely she disliked his talking like that, but he did it anyway, because it always worked, just like it had now. She was standing before him, confident, and proud, just like the woman he loved.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Pissed," she succinctly replied.
Ray frowned.
"Get over it," he told her dismissively, then he asked again, "How do you feel?" He saw the tension around her eyes increase a bit. "No, wait a minute," he then said, shifting mental gears, "I got a better idea." He smiled, and then he told her, "Close your eyes."
Jasmin continued to regard him, her smoldering temper on hold. She held her head in just the right angle so she could observe him from beneath an ominously furrowed brow.
"C'mon, please," he implored her gently, "jus' . . . stay like you are, but close your eyes."
Jasmin didn't move. After a time, she raised her chin a bit, and Ray saw her brow relax. Her upper torso inflated noticeably as she drew in a deeper breath than normal, then, on exhaling, she closed her eyes.
She could feel him take hold of her fingers. She felt him close, and then he lightly bussed her cheek. "Thank you," she heard him say close to her ear. She could barely bring herself to stifle a little smile, then she felt her arms raise as he tugged on her fingers.
"Okay," he told her, "come with me."
Jasmin moved with him as Ray lead her to where she didn't know. He took it slow, allowing her time to take short, cautious steps, and to place each foot with care. The position of her feet told her that she was turning in a fairly tight circle. When she felt the tension on her fingers slacken, she stopped. His touch left her, and she let her arms hang comfortably away from her sides.
"Keep yer eyes closed," she heard him tell her. His voice was very soft. "Now think . . . and feel."
Ray stood silently behind her as Jasmin faced the mirror. She remained very still with her eyes closed; thinking, and feeling. She believed in Ray, and trusted him. She seemed to hardly breathe. She thought, and felt . . . Slip away. Slip away all. They came; the feelings - new, and strange. Welcome friends! Her chest rose, and swelled with a deep intake of air. Her chin lifted. Her back straightened. She held the thought, the feeling, then expelled the air slowly. Slip away. Slip away all. When her lungs were empty there was stillness for awhile. She didn't breathe at all. I would have you stay with me awhile longer, she wished. Please don't leave me. Her stature rose with the next intake of air. Her massive shoulders eased back from the expansion of her chest, and the further straightening of her spine. She held the thought, the feeling, and then, again, she slowly exhaled.
"Let it out, but don't let go of it," Ray encouraged her. "Keep releasing. Let what's inside out. Let it out."
Jasmin drew in two shallow breaths. Stay with me, she asked of these new, and greatly comforting sensations. She so enjoyed them. Great pauses weighed heavily at the bottom of each breath. We belong, you and I. We belong! Together! and she breathed again. Her chin lifted. Her chest rose higher. Her entire stature rose to her new full height as her back achieved its proper alignment. Her arms rose away from her sides as her shoulders found their natural position. The thoughts - the feelings, then quietly withdrew, but they left behind a memory that would come to serve her well. She let the last breath out, and then breathed normally again.
Ray had watched her closely in the mirror from where he stood behind her, looking over one of her enormous shoulders. She was almost as tall as he was now, her dark skin tightly drawn over flesh that was bold, and hard, and strong. But he wasn't taken by her appearance so much now as he was by her presence. She was still as she had always been, but there was a serenity about her look - a sureness which she would not have formerly allowed herself.
Is this how she is now? he wondered.
He trusted her. He always had. He always would.
"Open your eyes," he told her softly.
Jasmin raised her eyelids without hesitation. Her vision focused on her reflection in the mirror.
"I've gotten even bigger," she quietly observed.
"No you haven't," Ray was quick to tell her. "You just stood up straight, that's all."
As her eyes traveled over her image, Jasmin scarcely knew where to begin. There was so much of her!
"Will I ever be normal again?" she wondered.
"Probably not," he told her. It was the only thing he was sure of. Once the formula had initiated a response, there was no going back. He made to cup his hands around her shoulders only to discover that he couldn't. His hands looked so small against her shoulders. "This - is normal to you now."
A look of sad resignation came over Jasmin's exotic, Asian features as she gazed upon her reflected image in the mirror. Her lips parted, and formed a word, but she forgot to add her voice, so she said again in a whisper filled with longing, "Normal."
Ray's nose probed through her hair until he found an ear. He kissed it lightly.
"Does that help?" he asked her
Jasmin gave no indication of having either heard, or felt him. He was about to try again when she said, "A little," in answer to him.
He felt that more assurance was in order. He pressed himself against her, and rocked his pelvis slightly.
"Does that help?" he asked again.
She smiled this time before she answered, "A little," once again.
"A little!" Ray growled, his manhood having been slighted. "You say 'little'? he demanded. "I'll show you little!" With that he rammed himself hard between her cheeks, and began humping her wildly from behind. "Little, huh?" he grunted manlyly, "You want little, I'll give you little! I'll give you a whole lot o' little! Wha-da-ya think o' that, huh?"
Jasmin couldn't keep from laughing at his antics, but he still kept after her; subjecting her to a barrage of both verbal and pelvic thrusts. Eventually his gyrations bonked her off balance, and she had to lean her hands onto the vanity for support. By then, however, she was laughing just the way he wanted, so he felt it safe to stop. He leaned himself against her broad, thick back, and laced his fingers around her small, taut waist. Her laughter stilled. She relished his closeness.
"Stay like that, Impy," he urged her. "Stay just like that. Don't stop laughing."
She looked up to see how serious he was. They watched each other in the mirror.
"Okay?" he asked.
His look assured her like nothing else.
"'kay," she answered back.
"I'm going to go get lunch started," he told her. "I'll meet you in the kitchen, hm?"
"'kay," she answered, smiling this time.
Ray smiled, and gave her waist a squeeze - it was the only part of her he could get his arms all the way around, then he headed for the hall. At the doorway he stopped, and turned back to make sure she was alright. He saw her standing before the mirror, observing her reflection. One hand had tentatively begun exploring her tummy. The other slowly moved along a thigh. Her expression reassured him. She looked curious, rather than sad, or frightened.
"Are you okay?" he asked her.
Jasmin was quick to remove her hands before she half turned to him. She took a moment to consider his question, then answered with a nod, and a confident, "Yes."
She return her attention to her mirror image. Ray watched her extraordinary muscles ripple, and quake, as she began to touch, and explore, herself again.
"Don't be too long," he gently teased her.
Her hands stilled as she glanced his way.
"I won't," she answered shyly.
Ray left her alone so she could get acquainted with her new appearance. In the kitchen, he busied himself with meal preparation. He felt great relief that Jasmin seemed to be both sane and safe - at least, for the moment. He appreciated the existential importance of appearance to women, the way they look being primal to attracting a desirable mate. To have such a vital aspect of themselves suddenly taken from their control, and altered beyond accepted norms, would be a shattering experience to a woman, and might even drive her insane. That Jasmin had physically survived her transformation was one thing. That her mind had also survived was another, and the thought of it made Ray feel both proud of her, and humble before her.
This aside, they had to find out what affect the formula had had on her. Jasmin had the appearance of being very strong physically, but was she really? If so, how strong was she? If not, then why not? Had her mental functions been enhanced as well? If so, what functions had been enhanced, and in what way had they been affected? Were there mental faculties which had remained untouched? What were those faculties, and why had they been . . .spared? What affect, if any, had the formula had on her spiritual make up? He didn't want to go there, but it was something that had to be considered. Did he know her anymore? Did she know herself anymore? There were so many questions that begged for answers. How, on Earth, had she dealt with it? Had she even considered the multiple unknowns they were facing? What would happen when she did consider them? Would she go into denial? Go over the edge? Descend into irretrievable madness, and have to be institutionalized for the rest of her life?
Wait a minute, Ray told himself.
He paused a moment, then realized that, at the rate he was going, he was going to be the candidate for a padded cell - not Jasmin. He made a conscious effort to slow down, and think about what was really important in the situation they were in . . .
They - were in.
The two of them.
Us.
Once Ray had cleared his mind, the answer was there, plain as day.
I love this woman.
Knowledge of this indisputable fact would be the foundation of all future thought, and action. His belief, trust and faith in Jasmin; the woman to whom he belonged, and who belonged to him, would be the guide to their exploring the uncharted plane of existence they'd suddenly found themselves on. He didn't expect that their commitment to one another would necessarily make their passage any easier, but it might just get them through it without too much harm to either of them.
He got the vegetables out of the fridge, and placed them on the counter. The pan of water on the stove was boiling. For the first time since finishing his breakfast at 'Jimmies', several hours before, Ray felt safe. Not complacent, but free from fear.
He was also hungry, and he imagined his beloved, and now massive, Imp to feel a similar craving. With sigh, and a contented smile, he reached for the pan of water.
"RAAAAYY!" he suddenly heard Jasmin scream.
What he didn't hear was the pan hitting the floor as he dashed from the room.
|
|
|
|