Tags: Breast Inflation, Female Inflation
Text: Melissa smiled broadly as she glanced at herself in the full length mirror along one wall of the gym. The young woman who smiled back at her was nothing less than a physical phenomenon.
Standing at well over seven feet tall, she was absolutely enormous. Shoulders larger than many of those that graced professional powerlifters were above a relatively small waist in comparison. Below, trim hips and muscular thighs, striations running almost an inch deep, ran down to her calves, which could technically be termed in the cow category. Her outfit, a spandex top and briefs along with tennis shoes, barely covered her and left absolutely no doubt as to what she looked like underneath. If she did not know for a fact that they were size XXXX large, she would be certain that she had purchased something too small. Turning, she glanced back over her shoulder to examine her back, ridged and rippled with muscle structure and development that would have made many a Mrs. Olympia jealous. Flexing her bottom, she watched it surge and tighten up, grinning wickedly all the while.
Facing front once again, she put her hands on her hips and pushed her elbows forward in a lassitimus pose. Her back assumed a massive triangular formation and her chest tensed up, bringing her best assets, behind aside, to the fore. Perhaps the only fatty tissue left on her body, her breasts did not match the ripped appearance of the rest of her body. They jutted out from her, filling her halter top to capacity and then some, nipples pressing hard against the fabric. For all their size they did not sag or droop in the least, resembling beachballs for all their sphericality. Twisting one arm around and placing her palms together, she squeezed hard, forcing her chest out even more. With a pinging rip, stitches started to give along the side of her spandex.
Surprisingly enough, although her body almost radiated power, her face was extraordinarily beautiful. Hair so black that it was almost violet, normally shoulder length, lay pinned back by a terrycloth headband. Blue eyes of almost luminous intensity presided over delicate cheekbones leading down to full lips.
Reaching down to the floor with sinuous ease, she picked up an unencumbered free weight bar. Twirling the forty five pound staff of metal lightly across her fingers, she placed one hand at either end, and slowly started to twist inward. The middle bent with a quiet crink of material pushed beyond its limit only a few seconds after she started, but that was not enough. Carefully, so as not to break it, she tied the resisting iron into a rough approximation of a pretzel. Holding it by one hand and tilting it upward, she admired her handiwork.
Laughing, almost chortling with glee, she tossed her impromptu artwork over one shoulder and lunged for her bag. A few moments of rummaging and she came up with a Beretta 9mm handgun. The sleek black pistol looked tiny in her hands. Pointing its muzzle at one hand, she winked at herself in the mirror.
The gun coughed, a tinny noise in the large room, and Melissa blinked from the barrel flash. The gun joined the metal pretzel on the matting as she examined her hand closely. There was no mark on her. The skin remained as unblemished as if she had never fired. Glancing down, she idly moved the bullet, crushed as if it had struck solid rock, about with one toe while flexing her hands. It had worked. It was a total success.
A quiet ping was heard as a small recessed light started to flash above the door. Melissa reacted with businesslike acumen, kicking the barbell and the gun under her bag. As the door handle turned, she reached into her mouth.
"Dr. McLearan?" An older gentleman, distinguished in a reserved sort of way, stepped in. Assuming a formal stance, he continued. "You wished to be informed if there were any word of those hooligans at any of your companies' facilities again. There was just an attack on the Shipping department at Fifth and Waterchess."
"Thank you, Edward. Anyone hurt?" Edward looked over, then averted his eyes. Reaching out into the hall, he pulled in a chiffon terrycloth towel and tossed it towards her.
"Exercising in the nude again, I see. I really should know better than to come in here before checking. No, no one was injured. They did do a great deal of damage however. The shareholders are furious and there is an emergency meeting of all department heads next week, Tuesday at nine."
Wrapping the towel about herself, Professor Melissa McLearan, head of the particle physics research institute at CheckMate Industries (Motto: The Last Word In Technology) and also the youngest woman to ever head such a department, smirked up at her houseman. "Now Edward, you wouldn't be denying me my little pleasures, would you?"
Edward snorted softly. "Perhaps if you ate more, all the time you spend in here would put a little meat on your bones."
Melissa smiled again, turning in front of him. Barely coming up to his shoulder, she was somewhat on the thin side, barely exceeding one hundred pounds. Rather unprovoking curves met his gaze, but that was to be expected from one of the foremost quantum physicists in the country. That slim body housed one of the most acknowledged brains in the field.
"Care to go a few rounds with me, Edward? I promise to be nice!"
"No, ma'am. I still have the bruises from last time. I and judo do not get along." Edward squinted across the floor. "It appears you left your apparel earlier. Shall I clean up?"
"No! I... I mean I'll take care of it. I'm old enough to clean up after myself." Melissa grinned nervously, a trifle too broadly, but it could not be helped.
"Very well. Oh yes, Director Huron gave a personal call. She suggested quite strongly that you make an appearance at the meeting."
"Thank you Edward. I'll be down in a bit." Frowning, Melissa watched as he closed the door. "Director Huron, hmm?" she muttered, tossing a small block of plastic, still damp from her saliva, up and down in one palm. She scooped up the tank top and briefs with the other hand, noting that the top alone could easily cover her now. Grasping the block between her thumb and forefinger, she held it up to the light and traced by eye the tiny circuit paths visible there. "Director Huron'd be most interested in you, my little friend. Oh yes." The entire start of this was all very vivid to her, almost as if it had happened yesterday instead of nearly a month ago. "This is absolutely incredible. Doctor, if you don't get the Noble Prize for this I'll be quite surprised. Do you realize the potential here?" Director Huron sat back slowly in her chair. Gimbals adjusted quickly to her shift in weight and the corinthian leather creaked softly. In front of her, spread out across her marble slab of a desk, lay reams and reams of test results, examinations and studies. Information scrolled past on her computer monitor, ignored for the time being.
Dr. McLearan shuffled her feet slightly, feeling somewhat out of place in the opulent offices of the third highest person at CheckMate Industries. Money went through here, a lot of it. It was apparent. Even with her status, McLearan knew she was one of many.
What made it all the more startling was Director Huron's appearance. Standing taller than many men and with a rangy wide shouldered frame and her perfectly coifed auburn hair, she would look equally at home on a Paris fashionway as she did in a business suit. Yet here she was, one of the most well to do women in America.
"Of course you realize we're years from a practical test," McLearan commented. "Even though this hasn't been run on anything over a single celled organism yet, I felt you had to be made aware of what the possibilities were."
"I had some idea of what you people were up to from the preliminary reports, but I had no idea you were so close to anything." Huron glanced up. "What made you come to me with this now?"
"Well," McLearan grew even more uncomfortable. "Truthfully, I didn't know were else to turn."
"Is there something wrong?"
"I believe there's a security breach."
Huron paled slightly. Dr. McLearan could understand that. She worked in one of the most secretive places in the country, outside of military bases and the space stations. If there had been an infiltration it could only be of professional level.
"After substantial review of the records of the accelerator and the dimensional arpeture centralization unit, I believe they've been used at unauthorized hours. The problem is that there is absolutely no record in the computers of any of this. The only thing I've got is an inordinately large block of memory freed up for some sort of processing at all sorts of strange hours."
"Have you informed anyone of this?" When McLearan nodded no, Huron continued on. "Good. If someone is actually getting in, then security might have a defector or two on it. Don't tell anyone. I'll start my own investigations."
Dr. McLearan sighed and slumped her shoulders, surprised at the tension there. Ever since the night before when she had noticed the discrepancies while working late she had been in a state of constant tension. After gathering up her materials, she headed for the door.
The smile that had been on Director Huron's face slipped as if it had never been there once the door was closed. Punching a few recessed buttons on her desk, turned her chair and watched a cleverly concealed side door slide open. "Brooke, Andrea, Tiffany, get in here."
Even though the hidden door matched the deco of the office and was several inches higher than normal the three women who stepped through had to duck in order to enter the office. Each of them towered over Director Huron, even if she had been standing up.
The first, Brooke, was stunning at over seven feet tall. Looking like something out of a beach magazine she padded in on bare feet. Her only covering was a silvery like wrap that just managed to cover her smooth frame.
Andrea had to duck further than the others, being inches taller than a regulation basketball hoop. A rather average face with carefully permed short brunette hair was more than made up for by an exquisitely curved body. Muscle layer on muscle layer rippled down, although she still had a very feminine outline. Broad hips and a voluminous bustline made up for her stockiness and it was not until close up that it could be seen that her bicep was larger than the average waist of a normal person. The same wrap as on Brooke graced her body.
Tiffany was the most surprising of the three however. Not only did she have to duck to enter the room with her height, she also had to turn sideways to get her truly magnificent prow into the room. Combining the svelte outline of Brooke with the rippled muscularity of Andrea ended up with an incredibly overendowed young lady. Her red hair was carefully pinned back in a ponytail with only a few strands to flip forward over her emerald eyes and generous features. Unlike the wraps on the others, she was stuffed into what had to be a custom made blue leotard. Even allowing that, a great deal of cleavage was exposed. Stretched almost beyond recognition across the front was the logo "Bigger is Better!" in neon red.
"You heard." Huron's question was stated so flatly that it became a declration.
"She's the one who designed that system." Andrea gestured towards the computer. "Even with your access codes as head of the department, I don't think I'll be able to keep her out of her own setup for much longer. As is, she's suspicious that I've been on sick leave as long as I have."
Huron shrugged that one off. "You can't report back to work as her secretary looking like that. No, your spying days on Dr. McLearan are over. When you discovered that she had accelerated her project far beyond what we thought possible and reported it to me was the end of your previous position. How are your tests going?"
Brooke spoke up. "They're phenomenal! You wouldn't believe what we've been able to do. Andrea took a direct hit from a wrecking ball down at the scrapyard and wasn't hurt at all! Best estimate without an accurate scale of measurement is that we're all capable of lifting weights in the forty ton range, although Andrea is a lot stronger than either of us. If we keep within the mind-muscle link neural limits, I think all of us, and most especially Andrea, will be in the several hundred and perhaps even a few thousand ton range within a few more treatments."
"Can you exceed the neural limitations?"
Brooke frowned thoughtfully, her lips pursing in a moue. "No, I think that would be quite unsafe. Too much increase would exceed the brain's capacity to cope with the increased strength and endurance. All we'd be able to do was sit and twitch as nerve endings misfired. It wouldn't be fatal, but would result in a very large and immobile individual. Not exactly what you had in mind, is it. With a little more practice outside..."
Huron dismissed the idea with a short chopping motion of her hand. "We can't afford any of you being seen. There's rumors enough with you driving down to secluded areas for your experiments. I don't mind all the little costumed vigilantes here in New York finding out about this, but we can't run the risk of any real superhumans finding out too early.
Turning her monitor, she clicked a few keys on a pad. "I'm moving up the operation. I need to be made head director within a month if we want to have continued access to the generator. Without that you three would be back to normal within a matter of days. If we time this right I'll have an army of impossibly large and strong women within six months. After that, the sky's the limit."
"What about Dr. McLearan?"
"Don't worry about her. Even if she discovers something and takes it to the police we're good to go. I have several very incriminating documents that seem to indicate she's been embezzling from the company as well as committing various illegal and highly unethical experiments with her generator on unborn children. While she's in jail trying to get that taken care of, we'll be able to round up her family. That will provide sufficient leverage to keep her quiet. Who knows, if we're careful, we might be able to bring her in on this of her own free will."
Andrea shuffled her feet. "Um, I was wondering..."
"Yes?"
"When are you going to undergo the treatment?"
Huron blinked. "I hadn't really thought of it. Our plan calls for you acting like independent operatives against this company, so I don't want to be seen with you. Any reason I should undergo it?"
"Yes," Tiffany finally spoke up, placing her hands on either side of the desk and leaning forward. Even though her elbows were straight her breasts nearly touched the desktop. "There's one very simple reason. It makes you feel... unstoppable. You won't understand us until you do."
Unnoticed by the four women, the main office door slowly slid shut with a quiet click. On the other side in the deserted secretaries office stood a pale and shaken Melissa McLearan. Slowly straightening her glasses, she walked off towards the lab section, trying to look nonchalant.
Fifteen minutes later while sitting in front of a massive monitor and triple keyboard array, she turned on a small tape recorder.
"In case of my death or disappearance this tape will give clue to what is going on. My worst fears have been realized. Not only have all my notes and research been plundered, my project has been taken out of my hands and accelerated to the Nth degree. For safety reasons the first human test subject for the Arpeture Merge project was not planned on for another three years. Although I am locked out of my own files, I can put together a pattern.
Essentially, what I have tried to create here is a reliable method of providing superhuman abilities against the increasing activities of such in the world today. Ever since the first powered individuals showed up during world war II there have been attempts to do this. Where others have failed, I appear well on my way to succeeding.
What my process does is create a wormhole gate to another dimension of my own discovery within a host body. The benefits of this are tremendous. The energies of this alternate dimension provide fantastic strength and mobility as long as the arpeture is maintained by the computer. Increased height and mass are the most common results. Any kinetic force against the host is largely transmitted through the arpeture into the next dimension, so when coupled with the increased physical toughness makes the host almost indestructible.
Apparently Director Huron is a bit more aware of my advances in this field than I had thought. Not only as she exposed three people to the process, one of them my former aid, she also has managed to isolate me from my own computer, the only way of shutting them down. Its processing power is now devoted to them alone.
I am afraid that my process is about to be perverted. Instead of selective police officers and military individuals receiving this treatment, it seems that Director Huron has some sort of ulterior motive. I may have just handed her the keys to her own personal power trip." With a click of her thumb, she turned the recorder off.
In the next few weeks, McLearan's thoughts proved to be true. Her workspace was shut down for some sort of contaminant leak, never fully explained. Shortly after that attacks began on various subsidiaries of CheckMate by assailants unknown. All that could be conjectured were that the burglars were women, blatantly so, and knew exactly what they were looking for. Millions of dollars vanished in short order, the criminals eluding the police with almost contemptuous ease as well as leaving a broad trail of injured and mutilated security guards in their wake.
On a more worrisome note, a strange series of murders had started in the local area. Men with a record of abuse had started to turn up dead, beaten to death by what appeared to be a rather large murderer, judging from the bruise marks left on the bodies. No witnesses were ever found, and after the third corpse had been found castrated the media had applied the nickname 'the bobbit basher' to it. Shortly after that several of the local costumed vigilantes, mostly non powered although a few were low delta class, the lowest superhuman category, had started to show up in the same condition.
These attacks as well as the seeming inability of the heads of CheckMate to stop it incensed the shareholders. There was a very good chance of the president of the company being asked to resign. With a little fast talking and some influential backers the next in line was Director Huron.
At first McLearan intended to take everything to the police, but Huron's threats made that too dangerous to contemplate. Without being able to cut the three giantesses out of the process, it was too risky. There was only one thing she could do.
Her own home system, although far beyond the reach of anyone who was not a millionaire with an extensive background in computer design, was nothing on the Cray supercomputer she had been using at work. It would have to do however. The process worked remarkably well, and with the added improvement of a location transmitter that she could turn off and on by simply removing it from her mouth, she was ready and willing to take on Director Huron and her flunkies.
The real problems lay in two stages. One, she had to take out the three women so that her family would not be threatened. Two, she had to do it in such a way or so quickly that suspicion would not be raised. Considering how badly Huron wanted what amounted to superhuman criminals it was a sure bet she had numerous normals at her disposal as well.
Now that she was ready, all that was needed was a time when the henchwomen would be making an assault. This proved to be the most difficult thing to figure out, a fact that was endlessly frustrating to McLearan. Able to puzzle out intricacies that had puzzled the greatest minds of humanity for centuries, and she could not even emulate the abilities of a common detective. All too soon the Tuesday meeting rolled around. As nominal head of her department, even if it was inactive, McLearan had to attend. She steeled herself for several hours of dry and uninteresting arguments on how CheckMate's present crisis should be treated as well as who might be best suited to lead them out of it. Director Huron had been pressing hard for the rest of the company to take up her stringent security measures. From the outside it seemed to be working, considering that none of the divisions under her had suffered any serious losses.
All too soon the Tuesday meeting rolled around. As nominal head of her department, even if it was inactive, McLearan had to attend. She steeled herself for several hours of dry and uninteresting arguments on how CheckMate's present crisis should be treated as well as who might be best suited to lead them out of it. Director Huron had been pressing hard for the rest of the company to take up her stringent security measures. From the outside it seemed to be working, considering that none of the divisions under her had suffered any serious losses.
McLearan felt rather lost in the crowd of suits in the main atrium of the headquarters building. Only those who owned a substantial amount of stock had been invited, but when a company is worth over five billion dollars, that amounts to a goodly group. Everyone was slowly ushered into the auditorium as soon as the president of the company along with his aides and the rest of the board of directors had arrived. McLearan went to take her place somewhat behind and to the left of Huron.
"Missy? Missy McLearan?"
Turning, she blinked in surprise. A younger man was addressing her. He was not one of the normal crowd as evidenced by the uncomfortable way he wore the substandard deep gray suit he was in. It was not a bad suit, but could not match up with the two thousand dollar custom specials that were all around. Another difference was his age and the way he carried himself. Substantially younger than the surrounding industrial tycoons, he looked to be in his late twenties, about McLearan's age and he carried himself like an athlete. Not enormous, he still had enough size to stand head height over most of the surroundings, with a subtly spiked and short brown hairdo separating him even further from the gray and transplanted hairpieces around them.
"Brian Landweir? Brinnie?" she stopped. This was the last place she expected to see an old college friend, and at one time something more, show up. "I haven't seen you in years!" Afire with curiosity, she babbled on. "What're you doing here? This is great! Don't tell me after you vanished from college that you went on to become obscenely wealthy and buy a controlling interest in CheckMate..."
Smiling that pearly grin that used to make her knees shake, and still did a bit to her surprise, he sat down in an unoccupied chair. "Nope, I'm not rich and famous yet, but I'm working on it. It's good to see you." Suddenly becoming serious, he continued, "Listen, I want to apologize for how I just vanished like that. I have reasons, good ones, but they can't make up for the fact that I just left your life without so much as a by your leave."
"Brian, it's fine. Really!" she commented as she watched the disbelief flash across his face. "I received a letter in the mail from your father a few days after you left, explaining your problems with the government and all."
"Really." He looked thoughtfully at her. "How much did he explain?"
"Not a whole lot actually. Just that it had to do with the chemical tests he underwent back in the sixties and their possible side effects on you. Basically I was told it was a hush hush thing that had to do with your inactive reserve in the military and all. When I didn't hear from you for several months, I assumed the worst. I'm so glad to see you again!"
He smiled and patted her hand. "I'm glad to see you too. Oop, looks like the meeting is starting. Hope to talk to you later." Breaking off, he went to sit down next to the president and an individual who McLearan identified as Senator Aldus after several moments. She contemplated her old college friend for a bit. It was nice to see him again, but what was he doing here? His father had let her know in no uncertain terms that she should not get involved in his disappearance. This return was quite unusual.
For the most part the meeting went as McLearan expected it to. Huron started her subtle push for the removal of the president, but for some reason he calmly let it go. It was not until the specific concerns of the meeting, that of the assaults, came up that his game plan came forth.
"I realize that many of you feel my recent activities to be rather short of the mark. Well, I wish to assure you that this is not the case. With the gracious aid of Senator Aldus, I have brought in an expert in the field of accelerated humanity. Without further ado, I turn the floor over to Brian Landweir, a SIA operative as well as an alpha class in his own right."
McLearan blinked once again. Stranger and stranger. Not only was her old friend one of the highest ranked superhumans around, he was also a member of the Supers Intelligence Agency, the government organization dedicated to policing and enforcing laws and regulations dealing with supers. Watching Huron out of the corner of her eye, she could see this was an unwelcome development, to say the least.
Brian took the podium with a cheerful smile and launched into a speech that revealed almost nothing about himself or the SIA, but had the shareholders hanging on his every word. He still had the presence, McLearan mused as she watched him. Brian had always been the smooth talker, the magnetic personality that attracted friends and enemies with equal ease. She would have taken his disappearance much harder if they had not been on a serious downswing in their relationship. As it was, she had forgotten just how attracted to him she had been.
She was so engrossed in introspection that she almost did not notice when Huron exited. Quickly getting up and following, she was able to catch a view of the director going up in one of the glass side walled elevators. Heading toward her office to relay the news to her cohorts no doubt.
McLearan was stuck. The executive section of the building was accessible only to those who had the necessary passkeys. Being a lab ape, she did not have one. Huron's visit to her office could not be missed however. She rushed toward the lunchroom.
Considering the lateness of the hour as well as the importance of the emergency meeting, the cafeteria was empty. McLearan was not interested food however. The door leading to the balcony was more to her interest. The CheckMate building, shaped like a large pyramid, had stepped tiers all the way to the top. Where convenient these had been made into balconies, separated by a distance of fifteen meters.
McLearan glanced upward, then started unbuttoning her blouse. Three levels up lay Huron's office. If she could get close enough under one of the office windows, perhaps she could make something out. No one could climb the side from balcony to balcony however. McLearan planned to be the first.
Quickly, almost too quickly for her taste, her clothing was off and neatly stacked to the side. All that was left was her frilly pink briefs, her only concession to lace, and a sports bra. She tossed the cube in one hand. "Here goes." She inserted it gently into her mouth.
The first moments of the wormhole opening were the most difficult. It quite literally felt like something had exploded in the stomach. McLearan tensed her hands and groaned slightly. Then the rush hit.
McLearan knew it was only the linkup between her brain and the excess energy now flowing through her frame, but to her it seemed as if the universe expanded. Endless, limitless vitality burst through her, flooding every pore until she felt as if she were shining light. It felt as if she were not big enough to contain it all. And sure enough, she was not.
McLearan watched as her abdominal muscle structure rippled, then bent outward, swelling with the power that filled her. Her shoulders surged wider, pressing against the cool night air that no longer had a chill edge. Bending her arms back, she arched up on her toes and let the change overcome her.
A hiss of pleasure escaped her lips as her legs swelled, lengthening slowly. The underwear held on valiantly, barely able to contain the new curves. She could feel her bra stretch tighter and tighter as her breasts grew. Reaching forward, she deftly disconnected the front strap, letting herself out with a pop. Looking down, she watched as she grew from her normal mousy A to a DD and beyond, letting the bra cling around her arms as best it could. For some reason she was not quite sure of yet, the things always outgrew the rest of her, ending up like twin bags of jello on her chest. It was nice to be stacked, but this was almost to the point of ridiculousness.
As soon as the process finished, she rubbed a hand down a tingling thigh, the other gently caressing the edge of her breast. "If I can patent this, I'll make a billion," she murmured appreciatively, then turned her mind to the task at hand. There were sensors in the railings, easily overcome by her new form however. A vertical jump of over fifty feet was child's play, and the landing was soundless, absorbed by bare feet and cushioning thighs and calves.
The last few feet were the most difficult as she carefully dug her fingers into the insulation edges of one of the window supports and levered herself up. The need for quiet made rapid movement difficult, and it did not help that her chest held her over a foot from the wall. It was sort of like leaning into a very firm pillow, in her opinion. She gave thanks it was dark. A very buxom young lady who was almost unclothed hanging by her fingers seventy stories above the street would raise a few eyebrows, even in New York. By the time she had made it to the right floor, an impromptu meeting had already started in the room inside.
"There's no record of anyone by that name," Andrea grouched, carefully pecking away at the keyboard with her oversize fingers. McLearan could barely hear them through the window, but it was enough.
"Of course he wouldn't be under that name. The SIA is secretive enough that they probably don't know what half of their operatives are doing at any given time." Huron chewed on her knuckle thoughtfully. "And we're so close as well! This couldn't happen at a more inconvenient time. Blast the president anyway. This is all his doing."
"And you," she suddenly snarled, turning towards a defensive looking Tiffany. "This is partially your fault! I didn't want to push anything to the point where any superhumans got involved, but you had to go out and start doing things on your own. Don't deny it, I know what you've been up to."
"So I killed a few people, big deal." Tiffany slouched on the floor, her head almost coming up to Huron's level anyway. She crossed her arms underneath her breasts, giving them the illusion of being even bigger with the shelf effect provided. "They all had it coming. It's not like he can actually hurt us you know."
"That's not the point! We don't even know what he can do! For all we know he's a mind reader and is picking everyone's brain as we speak."
"Then I guess we'll just have to add him to the list. What's the big deal, we all qualify as alpha class ourselves, nowadays." Tiffany shrugged off the entire situation.
Huron glared at her for a moment longer. "No, we're not going to kill him, and no, compared to the high end guys, you aren't even close. However, since this is only a minor favor thing with a Senator, we can assume this guy's pretty low on the totem pole. The problem is, if we take him out, then the government will be down on us like a ton of bricks."
Huron paced furiously for a moment. "Alright, here's the plan. We're going to have to scrap any long range plans for the moment. The focus is to remove the president from his position and get me in there. That way even if we can't keep you three on the generator, at least I'll be able to work out something for the future. We're not going to kill anyone, but I'm going to find out the itinerary of the president and his little SIA sidekick for the next few days. Tomorrow night you'll stage an attack on him directly. If everyone is roughed up, including the president, opinion should turn against him long enough for me to get him ousted."
"Remember, no one dies," she said the last for Tiffany. "What I want here is humiliation. If it looks like the president can't even take care of himself, I'll be able to sway his image easily."
"Ya wohl, mein Fuhrer," Tiffany snorted sarcastically.
"I... I'm not comfortable with this..." Brooke spoke up quietly, almost too light for McLearan to hear.
"Excuse me?" Huron did not seem to be able to believe what she heard.
"You heard me the first time." Brooke had gained some reserve. "When this was all going smoothly, it wasn't too bad, but this is getting nerve racking. SIA is nasty stuff! They don't play around, from what I've heard."
She hesitated for a moment, then continued on. "Also, I'm tired of being a freak. I want out after tomorrow. Once you're in as president of the company, I want to be normal again."
Tiffany jumped up, agast. "You actually want to give up all this?!?"
"All what? Hiding out in what used to be an executive office all day? Being an overmuscled mutant with enormous hooters? I just want to go back to the way my life used to be. I'm not cut out for this sort of thing."
Huron rubbed her eyes tiredly, then waved down more protests from Tiffany. "All right, all right. After I'm president, we'll reverse the process. But not a minute before! Tomorrow I'm going to need all three of you. What we wish to do is hurt people, not kill them. That way opinion falls and SIA isn't irritated to the point of sending a full team or anything like that. It's a fine line we're on ladies. Don't fall off."
Outside, McLearan smirked. Huron did not know it, but she was already slipping. Sliding down from her precarious position, she hopped over the railing and dropped. As soon as she was next to her clothing and had made sure no one was in the area, she spat the cube into her palm.
To say that going back to normal was something of a letdown was an understatement. The closing of the portal was the slamming of a gate to something strange and wonderful. Each time McLearan did it she had to resist shoving the cube right back in. The energy boiled off, feeling as if it were escaping from a shrinking balloon. She physically looked like that as well as she seemingly collapsed downward, her body going back to its normal size. The sports bra, now adequate to the task, scraped along the side of her shrinking breasts. As her legs twitched back to normal, she gave a deep sigh and started to dress.
The next plan was to find out exactly where the president and his senatorial ally would be tomorrow night. Then all she had to do was be prepared and in the area. Brian sighed, more in irritation than exhaustion, then returned to wandering along behind Senator Aldus and the president of CheckMate Industries as they toured the fourth CheckMate warehouse in as many hours. He had only been in New York for twenty five hours and already he was beginning to dislike it intensely. The original plan had been to assess the problem and report back to SIA headquarters, but that hope for speed had been dashed when he realized that a power struggle was going on between the president and several of his chief directors over just who would be running the company. He was just another piece to be waved around in the jockeying for position. That sort of thing bothered him. It had been years since he had been forced to take such a passive role, and it was galling.
On a lighter note it was nice to see Missy again. He had lost track of most of his friends and acquaintances from before. Of all the people that he had to run out on, she was the one that hurt the most however. At first, he had been ordered not to talk to her. After a few years, it was his option, but by then he was sure she had forgotten him. Seeing her at the meeting had been something of a shock, bringing back old memories. It had taken him almost ten minutes to get to the point of talking to her, then she vanished before the meeting ended. Despite her protests that she understood, he feared that she had left rather than see him again.
"Hmm?," Brian glanced up, realizing he was being spoken to.
"I said, did you have anything to add to our comments for the press?" Senator Aldus looked over to him. With a start Brian noticed that a crowd of reporters had already entered the room and were busy filming and flashing away. A forest of mikes and camera lenses poked at him.
Brian frowned for a second, a surge of anger washing over him. Burying it quickly, he smiled and stepped forward. In these sorts of situations he preferred to remain in the background for the sake of his anonymity, but Aldus had taken that opportunity away from him. The older man, seeing this as a excellent publicity coup, spared no expense at alerting the media to his location every chance he got. An apparent relation to an individual in the SIA would add to his reputation greatly.
The second Brian had realized this, he started to rebel in subtle ways. For instance, at the moment he was casually dressed in a pair of jeans and a somewhat worn flannel shirt. His sole concession to his position was a guest pass pinned to a front pocket. In several earlier conferences the media had ignored him entirely, concentrating on the more photogenic senator and president. Now the senator was pushing him to the forefront.
"Well, I'd just like to add a bit to what I said last night..." Brian started, slipping into the role easily. He did not have a chance to go any further.
The sound of one of the side bay doors being ripped off of its tracks brought the clamoring crowd to a dead silence. Almost as one, cameras, boom microphones and recorders turned towards the cloud of dust that had risen from the falling metal.
Gasps and comments of "It's them!" started as two figures emerged from the gloom. Impossibly tall, they were very female, with enormous curves that were impossible to hide. Not that they tried, being covered in one piece leotards that clung like a second skin. Barefoot, since shoes just do not come in that size, the only other covering they had were full face helmets with reflective visors. Spotting Brian, they strode forward.
Brian stepped backward and shouted, "You, press! Get out of here! Git!"
Slowly at first, then with panicked speed as the two giantesses drew closer, the crowd parted. Brian noted almost absently that they were jamming up at the doors as well as that several were spreading out in the warehouse, no doubt to see whatever happened next.
His next step backwards brought the back of his head in contact with a soft and malleable surface. Turning, he stared into the valley of what appeared to be some truly enormous cleavage. Hurriedly elevating his gaze, he stared into his own reflection from a third mirrored visor.
The voice that came from behind the helmet was out of proportion to the size. It was low, sexy and sultry. "Not bad, are they? Here, want a closer look?"
Before he could move, she reached out and grabbed him by the back of the head. With immense strength she pulled him forward, stuffing his face directly into that crevasse before him. Such was her size that he was covered past the ears. A startled yelp, well muffled, was dimly heard.
Placing a hand on either side of her prodigious bustline, the woman took a deep breath, then crashed her breasts together. It sounded like two rocks thudding against each other. Brian pulled free with a howl of pain, then clutched at his ears with a grimace of agony.
"Whoa, pretty strong there, little guy. The last time I did that I ended up with brains smeared all over myself." With a casual backhanded swipe, the huge woman flung Brian into a pile of crating. For a precarious second it teetered, then fell directly on him, leaving only a foot protruding from underneath.
By that time the other two had reached the crowd and waded in, tossing people left and right. The woman who had just buried Brian turned to the president. "Looks like your expected help didn't quite... measure up." The president rolled his eyes wildly from side to side. She advanced until he was against the wall, her bust almost nailing him there. Slowly she reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling it straight above his head until his patent leather shoe tips were about to leave the floor.
"Sad," she commented, shaking her head from side to side. "Can't even protect yourself, much less your own company. Tooooo bad..."
The president paled to a dingy white and gasped as the sound of bones grinding together became audible. She released him, letting him slide down, cradling a hand that looked strangely deformed and bent. To his credit, he did not cry out, but simply glared at his assailant.
Tiffany turned from the president and gave a thumbs up signal to Andrea. Acknowledging with a nod, Andrea turned and poked Brooke, who was busy menacing an unknown camera man. As she approached he steadfastly held his ground, filming away. The lense did not move up from her bust however, staying focused with a determined intensity.
"I think we've done enough damage for one day, ladies," Tiffany commented as they turned towards their entrance hole.
"You've got that right!" The shout came from above.
Before the three could look about, a figure dropped down from the shadows of the support frames for the ceiling of the cavernous room. Landing with barely a noise, it straightened up to reveal a sight none of them expected.
A fourth woman fully as large as themselves stood before them. Unlike their more utilitarian helmets and leotards, this person was dressed in a latex or neoprene outfit that started high up the neck and covered all but the arms and legs in a plastine sheen. The zipper front bowed out over the same massive overendowments that they possessed. A faceshield of bright red cloth that did nothing to conceal a cascade of deep black hair completed the spectacle.
Despite her dramatic entrance, McLearan so nervous that she was shaking. Part of it was sheer embarrassment at the outfit she was wearing. It had been expensive as hell as well as somewhat risky to order it, but the mail order company in Europe had a history of discreet custom jobs. They had been incredibly curious as to why a suit of this size had been ordered; fortunately things had remained quiet. McLearan's theory behind the suit was that people would be far too interested in her well displayed attributes to even begin to try and figure out who she was. Classic misdirection.
Reaching down to where a broad belt encircled her waist, she pulled a complex looking ball of wiring and clamps off. It came to life with an evil hum as she tossed it from hand to hand. "This is the end of it," she stated, then chucked the item at the biggest of the three, Andrea.
The ball struck solidly on one thigh, where it seemed to explode, wires flying everywhere and clamping down. Andrea yelped under her helmet, reaching down to pull the thing off. "Not fast enough!" McLearan shouted, and touched a button on her buckle.
Andrea was suddenly outlined in a blazing aura. Curses and moans could be heard as cameras burned out and reporters were flash blinded. It was all lost quickly in the howl of mingled pain and loss from the source of the brilliance. In seconds the lightshow had ceased. Andrea fell to the floor, her now too large leotard draped over her like a tent. Her massive headpiece clanked to the floor nearby. She had reverted to her original form. Slowly, with a glazed look, she toppled face forward.
"Awright, it works!" McLearan pumped one fist in the air victoriously. Tiffany and Brooke stared at the shrunken Andrea in shock.
"My God, she collapsed Andrea's portal.... That's impossible!" Brooke looked up slowly. "Who are you?"
McLearan gazed at them levelly, her knees finally having stopped their threats to knock together. Pulling two more balls from her belt, she hefted them. "Who's next."
Brooke flinched back, just what McLearan had been expecting. The wire ball hit firmly under her throat, spinning a spider's web of wiring around her neck and even spewing a few leads down her front. The burst of light enveloped her a second later, flaring red white and causing shadows from the crates to dance eerily along the ceiling.
Tiffany's reaction was nothing of the same however. Hurling herself forward, she rolled over on one shoulder. The ball passed harmlessly overhead, splatting across a wall. Continuing the roll into a standing tackle, she effortlessly cleared over five meters to slam solidly into McLearan's midsection.
McLearan oofed at the solid hit as she felt herself plowed backwards. She slammed into the wall, cracks in the concrete spidering out around her. Tiffany leaned back, removing her shoulder from McLearan's stomach and drew back one fist.
Outside, the crowd was still milling about in the parking lot. It could not be called a mob situation, since no one motive had seized the collective mind. Some wanted back in to see what was going on, others intended to stay right where they were. The few wise souls, recalling news reports of people caught in the center of superhuman fight, opted for retreat.
With a dull boom of impact and a cloud of dirt, the side of the warehouse blew out along a three meter front. A hurtling shape arced across the street, striking a car and smashing through it with no real lowering of speed. The second car, a blue Impala, was more effective, only rolling up on its side after absorbing the impact.
McLearan pushed aside the bits and pieces of car that had cocooned around her, rubbing her shoulder where Tiffany's blow had landed. That one was definitely felt. The suit had held up well, but the mask was a total loss, having been torn by a jagged edge of metal on her landing. Growling under her breath, she kicked the side of the car out and pulled herself loose.
Tiffany yanked the helmet from her head, concrete fragments on the visor having clouded her vision to the point of being unable to see. Foolhardy individuals that had remained around started madly snapping pictures. It did not matter to Tiffany however. For the first time she was able to use her full strength, and she was exaulting in it. Laughing, she stepped through the hole in the wall.
Down the street she could trace the crash site of her opponent through the shattered remains of a few cars. Assuming that her opponent was at the end of that trail, she smirked. A gentle ahem made her glance to the side.
"Looking for me?" McLearan asked, smiling sweetly. She allowed Tiffany a moment to take it all in, letting her eyes widen with surprise and dismay. At just the right moment, she hurled the Chevy Caprice Classic at Tiffany with all her might.
The laws of mass and reaction being what they are, McLearan was hurled backwards herself by the force of the cast. Tumbling into the side of a store, she got up quickly enough to see the chevy sailing down the street.
Tiffany, spread across the front of the car, had just enough time to turn her head and see the upcoming back end of the parked tractor trailer. "Oh Shi..."
The Caprice struck with enough force to roll the trailer bed, shearing it from the cab. Crumpled like an aluminum can, the entire mass slid and crashed along, taking a light pole with it in a shower of sparks.
McLearan had no time to gloat however, as Tiffany tore out of the pile of twisted metal, screaming curses. She charged back down the street, great legs pumping, the distance rapidly dwindling.
It was almost too easy. Tiffany had obviously lost it, while McLearan had plenty of training in just such a situation. One of the basic tenants of Judo is the redirection of the force of an opponent's attack. McLearan leaned to the side and guided Tiffany's head to an asphalt shattering contact with the street.
Reaching to her belt, McLearan allowed herself a bit of elation. She had won. Now all that remained was to place a ball on Tiffany before she recovered. McLearan was not so naive as to assume that the last bit was enough to knock her out. Her thrill of victory plummeted as her hand contacted her side, no belt inbetween. Looking down, she realized it must have been torn away when she had hit the car.
The loss of the belt was enough of a distraction that Tiffany managed to regain her feet before McLearan noticed her again. Holding one hand across her nose, she glared at McLearan. Suddenly her eyes lit up in recognition.
"Dr. McLearan?" The situation forgotten, Tiffany straightened up. "It is you! Looks like you got further along than we thought." She grinned, "The new look suits you. I hafta get one of those outfits."
"I'm here to stop you."
"You can't," Tiffany stated. "We'll never be able to actually dent each other, and without your toys, you aren't going to be able to do anything."
"Then I guess I'll just have to hold you here until the police or SIA figure out what to do with you." McLearan shifted her weight, preparatory to making a lunge.
"Wait!" Tiffany put up her hands. "Hold on. Why do you want to do anything to me? You've felt the power, the same as I. Why let anyone else have it? Between the two of us, we could be invincible, unstoppable. Throw in Huron and between you and her, we could rule the world!"
"I don't believe this! Here you are, a mass murderer, trying to get me to believe you won't kill me the second you get the chance."
"I only killed men," Tiffany stated in a dignified way.
"Only..." McLearan choked. "You're losing it. The mind neural link is shorting out on you, big time. Give up now and I can get you help."
"Give up? To you?!" The amount of scorn in Tiffany's voice was amazing. Turning, she patted one hand against her left buttocks. "You want me you're going to have to work for it, sister. There's a way I can beat you, you know. Everyone keeps forgetting I'm the one that broke into your computer in the first place. With a little fiddling and few programs of my own, I can take you easy."
"No," McLearan whispered. "No, wait! Don't mess with your neural correspondence! You have no idea what it might do!" It was already too late however. Tiffany crouched and sprang away in a huge leap, landing on a nearby rooftop and dashing out of site.
McLearan thought she knew what the other was up to. There was the possibility to increase the speed of the merging of the brain to the body's new capabilities during her process, but the side effects were too serious to even make it worth consideration. In Tiffany's current, somewhat deranged state, she might be plotting something best left alone. "I've got to get to the lab before she does!"
McLearan thought she knew what the other was up to. There was the possibility to increase the speed of the merging of the brain to the body's new capabilities during her process, but the side effects were too serious to even make it worth consideration. In Tiffany's current, somewhat deranged state, she might be plotting something best left alone. "I've got to get to the lab before she does!"
Brian slowly slide out from underneath the last packing crate, taking in the carnage with a bleary eye. His ears were still ringing, but were nowhere near as bad as right after he had been breast boxed. Shaking his head, he grabbed a nearby man with a press badge on the front of his hat.
"Which way did they go?" he shouted, unmindful of the other's broken vidcam.
"Through the wall... They went right through the wall..."
Brian frowned, then jogged towards the crater leading outside. This was what the SIA feared the most of any situations; an all out fight between two individuals with abilities far beyond the norm. He had to do something and quickly.
He arrived just in time to see the discussion between the two battling gargantuans. The revelation of who one of them was shocked him more than he cared to admit. Seeing Missy's face on that great body was a stopper, so much so that he did not make it to them before the other hurtled skyward, vanishing over a nearby roof. A second or two later Missy followed.
For Brian several pieces started to click together. He had a pretty good idea of what the projects actually were that he had not been allowed into over the last few days. CheckMate Industries was in for something of a shock, he grimly promised himself. The SIA was small, but due to the growing fear of the general populace about accelerated humanity it had been given extensive power. A judicial investigation with plenty of very large fines was definitely in the future.
For now though he had to catch up with the two departing women. Unable to travel as they, he glanced around. Several people in cars, rubberneckers all, had stopped to view the action. Pulling out his badge, he stepped over to the nearest.
"Official government business. I need to use your car." He glanced in to see several teenagers eyeing him blankly.
"The hell I will! No way you're getting me out," the driver said belligerently. "I just got this thing paid off."
Brian reached out and grabbed the side of the half rolled down window. With a squeeze, he cracked the pane and pulled a piece off in his hand. Grinding his fingers together, he stared at the boy, never taking his eyes from the other. Fine glass particles drifted down from inbetween digits. "You don't have to leave the vehicle. Just drive me to CheckMate Industries as fast as you possibly can. You two, in the back. Get out."
At a motion from his hand, the other three in the car hopped out, wide eyed and sweating. He climbed in the back as the driver peeled out.
"Drive as fast as you possibly can. I'll take care of any police or other problems. This is a major deal here, kid. Do what you have to." Brian settled back, thoughtfully popping his knuckles as the car accelerated, the young man behind the wheel getting into the spirit of things.
Something was up, he surmised. Missy was a part of it somehow, which bothered him more than a little. The neutralization of unknown superhumans was his primary job, but he never had to deal with someone he knew before. Especially someone he cared about so much. There was no way she could be crooked on this deal. It just had to be the other huge figure. He held on to that hope.
This internal angst had no effect on his preparations. If he had to fight again, this time he was going to be prepared. It would require more power. Fortunately, power was one thing he had plenty of, if only he could access it.
Brian, known to the world at large as the superhuman Psinaught, was what scientists called a focused telekinetic. Able to move things with his mind, he had proven unable to manifest any of the classic abilities associated with mentalists, other than increased mental fortitude. His true might did not lie in the range of his attributes but their overall power level. As Psinaught he was perhaps the most powerful telekinetic on the face of the planet.
Unfortunately this ability was unusual, to say the least. Brian was unable to visualize picking up something with an invisible appendage like so many of the documented telekinetics. It was easy once he touched the item to be lifted. This gave the impression of vast strength, for after a few moments of concentration, Brian was able to shrug thousands of pounds over his head with one hand. His mind reached deep within himself as well, able to manipulate the brownian motion of his very atoms and strengthen tissues to the point of his being able to block bullets with his bare hands or catch massive weights with little or no effort. The more concentration devoted to this, the more powerful his mind became. The greatest indication of this was the Chicago incident when Brian, his strength augmented by a government psionisist, devastated downtown Chicago in a display of brute force the world had not seen since the great paranormal battles in Berlin at the end of World War II.
Concentration was what it took. Normally Brian was able to lift several tons as well as take a blow capable of killing a normal man. This was apparently not enough to slow down the two women. Brian would have to increase.
"Focus," he told himself, starting the mental process he had slowly learned through trial and error. "Focus." Breathing deepened as he entered the first stages of a light self induced hypnosis. McLearan peered into the darkened confines of the lab warily. It had been easy to follow Tiffany's trail across town, what with the chunks missing from various rooftops as well as landing marks in the ground from her leaping. She had fallen behind however, no doubt due to Tiffany's greater practice at getting about in a muscle bound form. In all probability Tiffany hadbeen busy for three or four minutes by now.
CheckMate was quiet, it being after business hours. All but afew people had gone home for the evening. McLearan had followed the trail in through a twelfth floor window, then up the stairs towards her lab on the fiftieth.
Now she was outside the double doors, peering in through the tiny inset window. All that was visible was the fitful glare and flicker of status lights across endless panels. The slow motion of a monitor with its screensaver of exploding fireworks caught her attention for a bit, but that was all. If it were not for the fact that there had been a power flicker as she bounded up the stairs, a sure sign of huge processor demands as well as a possible portal manipulation, she would think there was no one in there.
Sighing, she realized she was going to have to go in if anything was to be found out. The hinges squeaked on opening, but it was almost imperceptible as she crept through. The inner lab lights, where the particle accelerator and major apparatus was confined in case of emergency, were on. Glancing about at the second and third floor walkways along the edges of the room, she assured herself there was no one hiding there before proceeding.
Stepping up to the steel lined door, she pushed it open a crack. Nothing met her gaze outside of an innocuous looking cabinet bursting with papers crammed into it. A few inches further revealed nothing new. Carefully, she poked her head in.
A low laugh, more of a soundless rumble than anything else, caused her to look over to the left. As she did a pair of hands clapped together, her head between them.
The door vaporized in the concussion of the impact. The reinforced walls fared better, but shook from the force as well. Desks and equipment scattered in the breeze, monitor screens shattering from overpressure. Lights blew out, to be replaced by the dim emergency glow of recessed systems. Tile peeled up from the floor, carpet rippling as well. Outside, the glass stretches of one side of the building exploded outward to rain down on the streets below in a deadly hail, leaving the bare remains poking out of over fifteen floors. It was as if the CheckMate Industries structure had suddenly spit out something with a horrible taste, leaving a gaping mouth open.
McLearan noticed none of this however, being in far too much pain to care. For a moment blackness threatened to overwhelm her, but she struggled out, her head feeling as if it were the clapper on a giant bell. Crouched on hands and knees, she felt the tattered streamers of the remains of her PVC suit, peeled away from her shoulders like so much paper. Starting suddenly, she realized that the cube had been jarred from her mouth. She was normal again, and at a time that could not be worse!
"Hmm, looks like I don't know my own strength!" It was Tiffany's voice, but far deeper, more reverberant. McLearan gasped in shock as she saw what had become of her opponent.
Tiffany had obviously made it to the Cray and been able to do a few design modificaions. The leotard, hopelessly outclassed, had given up long ago, leaving nothing but a pale glowing nimbus of energy to surround her. Her body, previously large, now loomed into the air over four meters, almost half way to the ceiling of the three story laboratory. Every tendon, every ridge of muscle was starkly outlined under the skin, stretching and straining with a life of their own. Tiffany's irises had been subsumed under a sea of golden light that pulsed and burned from her eyes. Her hair spiked upward in a swath, streamers of sparking crackles jumping around in it.
"Welcome Dr. McLearan. Are you impressed by the god your machine has just created? It is wise of you to humble yourself before me." Tiffany smiled, a terrible, mirthless thing.
"I never dreamed it would be like this. Your worries, your fears, they are wrong. Your process has made me realize that I am the center of everything! Matter is as nothing to me," she continued, raking one hand across the nearby wall. Five parallel track were left, inches deep. "I am like a god, placed in a gossamer world."
McLearan shuddered as she realized what had happened. The feelings of well being, of power that the process gave someone undergoing it had spiraled out of control when Tiffany had taken all of the controls offline. She could no longer be considered in her right mind.
One great hand reached down and picked up the tiny cube. "Is this how you managed it? How... quaint." Tiffany laughed again as she examined the tiny thing between thumb and forefinger. "Linked to your home system no doubt. Now, what shall we do with you?"
McLearan did not even bother to struggle as she reached out and picked her up by one arm. There was no point in resisting that iron hard grip. Turning slightly, Tiffany tapped the phone on the desk.
A few moments later the tiny viewscreen lit up, revealing the face of Director Huron. Emotionlessly she listened to Tiffany as she related what had happened.
"It couldn't be helped, I suppose," she sighed, eyeing her now supercharged cohort.
"What should I do with her?" Tiffany asked, holding McLearan up to be seen.
"Is that the cube you were talking about?" Huron focused on it. "Squeeze it gently." A sharp pop came as Tiffany complied. "Now, put it back in her. Make her swallow it."
McLearan gagged suddenly as a thumb dug in the side of her jaw. Tiffany forced her mouth open painfully wide and stuffed the device down past her tongue. McLearan spat and twisted furiously, but it made no difference to Tiffany, who could pulp her to a red smear on the floor with a single motion.
"Release her and get on over to my place. I'll be expecting you soon." Huron stared at McLearan. "But she'll get away!"
"No, I don't think we have to worry about that. Considering the damage you just did to her locater, an uncontrolled point hole to another dimension is about to open up somewhere in her body." Huron addressed McLearan. "It's probably going to hurt a great deal before it kills you. With any luck, it might even take out most of the building. We wouldn't want to leave any evidence around, would we." The screen flickered off.
McLearan stared in shock at the blank screen, stunned by the callousness of what had just happened. The moment of pain came upon her suddenly as she felt the blossoming of the portal somewhere within her middle.
This time, instead of the rush of health and of strength that normally came, only a feeling of bloatedness started.
McLearan was at a total loss as to what could happen. Her home setup was entirely jury rigged in the first place, leaving several nasty possibilities running through her mind.
What felt like a bolt of lightning seared down her back, swirled about in her toes, then raced back up to tingle her hair. Clutching at her stomach, she moaned in pain. The clutching quickly turned into a prodding as she realized that her abdominal region seemed somewhat larger.
Looking down, she gasped as she realized her belly was slowly swelling outward. It was not fast, but a noticeable increase was visible. A sensation of weight centered there, as if she were filling up with water. Pressing inward, she felt nothing unusual, except for the fact that she was swelling beneath her fingers.
"Ohhh!" she exclaimed as a surge of pleasure raced through her from her touch. Apparently there was some tactile feedback directly to her brain's pleasure centers. The caress of her hands across her expanding waistline was enough to delight. Already she looked about eight months pregnant.
Larger and larger still her paunch bulged. The weight was getting hard to support as she staggered against a control panel, supporting herself with one arm. Fear warred with delight as she brushed against the siding.
"Looks like you're having fun, Doc," Tiffany commented, poking McLearan just above the belly button. "Wonder what would happen if I would..." Not completing her thought, she jabbed considerably harder, causing McLearan to stagger backwards.
It was sort of like getting hit in the gut on a full stomach. McLearan felt as if she would throw up. The effect was not what either of them would have expected however, as she suddenly shrank like a pricked balloon, regaining normal stature in seconds.
"Well, so much for that," McLearan commented, then stopped as she felt the surge of bloatedness again. "The portal locus shifted!"
This time it was her left breast, noticeable as the nipple almost painfully stood out, followed by a tingle as the flesh around it swelled up. Within seconds her right had followed. This time the growth was not followed by an increase in size or muscle mass however. Instead, she could feel a sensation of weight behind her. Reaching back, she felt about, realizing that her backside had started a minor growth spurt as well. A quick glance to the side revealed that her thighs had done some enlargement as well. All of it was as nothing compared to her bust however. Twin volleyballs hung on the front, bouncing and jiggling with every inhalation of breath.
"I... I'm becoming a bimbo." McLearan watched in awe as her chest expanded further, a kind of fascinated intensity coming over her as she swelled beyond the DD range in her opinion. No longer able to see her feet, she could only feel about to ascertain what was going on below. From touch she estimated herself at a curvy 50 - 27 - 38.
"This is sort of like watching an inflatable love doll being blown up," Tiffany commented. "Wonder when you'll stop doc? Maybe you won't. You'll just keep on getting bigger and bigger..."
The raw manipulation of her emotional state was missing this time, but it was not needed for the jolt of fear from this statement. Already she was overbalanced enough to have a hard time moving as she tried to run for the door. A massive jerk of her breasts to the left and she was thrown into a cabinet. Cursing inertia, she stumbled to a stop and wrapped her arms about her new front, barely able to touch fingers in front. Squeezing inward proved to be of little use as everything squished upwards into her face.
"Stop this! You've got to help me!"
Tiffany shook her head negatively. "Nope, sorry. Director's orders."
McLearan staggered forward, then lost her balance and went over backwards. She was nearly knocked out as all the weight of her now beanbag sized breasts came down on her, pinning her arms to her sides under their weight. "This can't be happening!"
"Oh, but it is. What a way to go. She shuffled off this mortal coil at the hands of her own tits. Maybe you'll bury yourself and suffocate before the portal really goes beserk."
McLearan could only watch in horror as her body, out of control, inflated ever larger, swelling up and ballooning like some huge air compressor was forcing pressure into her. Her breasts mounded ever higher above her, pinning her arms to the fingertips and rolling down over her legs. It felt as though a cow were sitting on her chest and she could only bleat her panic at the unsympathetic Tiffany.
"Well, I gotta go. It'd be nice to hang around here and see just how big you got." Tiffany eyed McLearan's desk sized breasts and frowned. "Then again, maybe not. I'm getting jealous. Bye-bye, boob girl."
"Leaving so soon?"
Tiffany stared at the outer door in amazement. There stood Brian, taking in the scene. He only spared McLearan's monumental concerns a single look before turning his attention to the new and improved Tiffany. "Ready for round two, ya ugly lump?"
Tiffany snarled, her hair standing up in crackling rictus. Charging across the room with floorshaking strides, she bore down on the unmoving Brian.
At the last second he stepped forward, shifting his weight along one leg and looping one fist behind her knee as her punch smoked by just over his head. Twisting, he flung one leg out from underneath her, bringing her down on her bust with an enormous grunt and a several foot bounce. Such was her momentum that she slid down the hall and over the edge of the shattered window with a startled yelp.
"Ha! Don't mess with someone who can control inertia!" Turning from the hall, Brian ran towards McLearan. "The fall should keep her busy for several minutes. We've got to get you out of here!"
"No... time..." McLearan gasped out. "I'm..., oh god,... I'm too far along. The portal's gone wild. She panted furiously for a moment. "Two options... I'm either gonna explode... or implode." She moaned as he levered her forward, rolling her breasts so they dragged her up to a standing position. Clutching his arm, she turned bright eyes on him. "You've got to get out of here! I don't want to take you with me."
To his credit, Brian looked at the door for only a moment before turning back. "No. I left you once." He turned an anxious gaze on the consoles around them. "There's got to be a way to stop this! I won't let you die."
"Only... way now." She paused and groaned loudly as her breasts swelled larger, creaking and groaning as they lifted her feet from the floor. "Is to collapse the portal with feedback. It's uncontrolled though, so that'd... that'd take the force of a small nuke. Run! You have to get Director Huron. She's behind this."
"You aren't going to die." Cold steel gray eyes looked into hers from a few inches. "I won't let you. Were's the portal. Exactly where!"
"Swallowed transponder. In my middle." She squirmed in pleasure as he ran fingers along her sides, probing. "I can feel it. It's like a hard surface just under the skin."
"That's the... event horizon. It's huge! Ooohhh... I'm gonna pop!" She clutched at the sides of her breasts as she rose even higher.
"No." Brian felt along her waist until he had a hand on either side, just above her hips. "No." Slowly, with increasing concentration, he started to squeeze.
"What... What're you doing?" Her question went unanswered as she felt his grip grow stronger. There was almost no give, the portal threading throughout her entire abdomen.
A sparkle of static discharge danced across Brian's hand, arcing down his fingers. Closing his eyes, he let his grip increase steadily, ignoring McLearan's gasped comments, questions and pleas. Running through his mind, thought over in every exacting detail, was a scene of her, bloated beyond belief, exploding like an overinflated balloon. This played again and again until every moment, every detail was crystal clear.
There was one thing that was causing it. That sphere in Missy's body. It was going to kill her. It had to be stopped. It must be crushed. All of his will, all of his thoughts, all of his mind focused down on that one thought.
McLearan swelled again, her growth now coming in regular spurts. It was a good thing she was in such a large room or by now the tops of her chest would be brushing a standard ceiling.
Brian snorted, shoulders tensing as he suddenly heaved McLearan off the floor, holding her up by the waist. She hung over his head, her breasts looming over them like twin blimps. A band of lightning encircled her middle, sparking from one hand of Brian's to the other.
Brian brought his full strength to bear.
It was like being inside a car crusher, McLearan thought. She could feel it. The warping and distorting of the event horizon as forces she could barely comprehend fought for dominance within her. Brian's power clawed at her skin, sending shivers through her as the pressure from the portal fought outward.
Massive jolts of energy jumped outward from Brian, static buildup from psionic generation. A desk shattered under the onslaught, then a cabinet. St. Elmo's Fire shimmered along the edges of the structure, lighting up CheckMate Industries in unearthly flame. Brian's will fed his strength, which in turn fed his will in a loop that had started a geometric rise to infinity.
The upper thirty stories exploded.
It was not a normal explosion, full of fire and smoke. Instead all the material suddenly leapt outward, shattering and reshattering in a reverberating thunder that could be heard for kilometers.
The top of the building had been sheared off neatly, even with the fiftieth floor. In the center was a smooth concrete plain, with only two figures to mar it. McLearan shook her head and sat up. Patting her arms furiously, she looked down at herself, fearing the worst. Massive musculature and a great bosom met her gaze, but no bigger than she recalled it as being from earlier. "I... I'm ok!"
"Not for long." McLearan looked up to see Tiffany moving to stand up, having just pulled herself over the edge. "Muscles or not, I'm going to squash you like a bug."
"I don't think so." Brian walked forward, dust on the floor rolling back from him in waves. Rippling waves of gold steamed off of him, rolling upward to dissipate into the air. "I've never been this high. I could move mountains. If you don't surrender right now, I'm going to annihilate you."
Tiffany rose over him. From McLearan's perspective his gold rimmed frame stood before her hulking form that extruded strength from every pore. "I am a goddess." She enunciated clearly. "You may not tell me to do anything."
"You are a menace. As a fully licensed operative of the SIA, I have the right to remove any rights of humanity from you. If I do so you are no more than an animal, to be hunted and killed by whatever means necessary. Don't make me do that."
One huge fist raised high. "Of course I'm not human. I'm better than that!"
The blow was tremendous, shaking the building to its foundations. Brian did not even flinch. A flare of gold rolled out from his feet, flickering past McLearan almost like a wave.
"As you see, you can't hurt me. I'm anchored to this entire block. I can't be moved. Now surrender or I will have to hurt you."
"Hurt me? No one can hurt me! I'm unstoppable! Take your best shot!" With that Tiffany presented her chin at Brian's level.
Brian smirked back at McLearan. "Hold on to something." Turning to Tiffany, he commented, "You asked for it. This is the big leagues you're playing in now. The first thing to remember is that no matter how good you are, there's always someone who's got a bit more. What you're doing is called a 'mistake'. Learn from it." He leaned back.
McLearan was glad for her returned strength and durability in the next few seconds. The shock wave from Brian's strike nearly tore her from the ground. Only by quickly digging her fingers into the tile and concrete was she able to save herself. The howling windstorm abated after a moment, leaving her and Brian. Of Tiffany there was no sign.
McLearan rubbed at the buzzing in her ears as she sat up. Brian walked over after peeling his feet out of the smoldering holes they were buried in. The floor was warped and deformed around him, melted into strange and twisted shapes. He sat down next to McLearan and sighed.
"Are you ok?" she shouted, unnecessarily loud due to her hearing loss.
"I'm fine." He noticed her quizzical look. "I'm fine!" he spoke up. "It's just that I'm coming down from a power high. It's sort of like reaching out and touching the sky, then having to go home to a cave. I'll be fine in a while." Placing his hands on his head, he slouched over.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, she placed one hand on his back, noticing how large it was in comparison. She must be back up to the nine foot range. "I just wanted to thank you. For saving me, I mean."
Those gray eyes fastened on her again. "All in a day's work."
"Where's Tiffany?" Brian squinted upwards. "Judging from the angle I hit her and the force involved, I'd guesstimate low orbit in a little bit." He snickered at her stunned look. "C'mon, I just collapsed a portal to another dimension. Don't you think I'd be able to hit a few ton babe hard enough to give her escape velocity? That really isn't that high a speed. I gave her the option of surrendering, she just didn't take it." He sighed again. "She really was a menace, you know. Whenever anyone starts tripping on the illusion that they're superior to everyone else trouble follows. SIA's been authorized to be pretty nasty in such a situation. It doesn't make me feel any better for what I did to her though. From what I've seen of your process, she might live a long time."
"How did your clothing survive all of that? Mine crapped out pretty quick."
"Hmm? Oh, well. My power reinforces me, making me tougher. It also can be applied to surrounding things. Clothing is easy. I can also anchor myself to things, like I just did to this entire area. That's what all the light was. If I hadn't done that, I'd be buried about a mile deep from launching Tiffany there."
Brian shook and nearly slid over. Shifting her hand, McLearan pulled him upright, then towards her. "Here, lean on me." With the way she was sitting and her extra height, his head was pillowed on one breast as he leaned back with a sigh.
"A guy could get used to this sort of thing. Why are you at that size? I thought something went wrong, considering the way you were puffing up when I came in."
"I am quite the dairy queen all of a sudden, aren't I," she smiled, then became serious. "Something did go wrong. I think I'm stuck here for now, sort of like Tiffany is stuck at her size. You two pretty much vaporized the computer system here at the labs. I'm gonna be big from now on, unless I figure out a way to fix it. What's going to happen to Huron?"
"Plenty." He leaned even more, smushing his head around a bit, smiling dreamily with his eyes closed. "With you around as really obvious evidence, she's going to spend a very long time in jail. The laws on human modification are quite strict and getting moreso all the time as each new superhuman pops up. We scare normal people pretty badly."
"Brian?" He rolled his head back, looking up at her backwards. "I really appreciate what you did today. You didn't have to stay."
"Yes, yes I did." He pulled himself upright, leaning on her shoulder. With her sitting down, they were about the same height. "Missy, I may have run out on you when I was first starting to learn to deal with these abilities, but that's because I was scared. I'm not scared anymore, and the important thing here is that I still... I still love you. I realize after all that you have reason to never talk to me again, but at least you know how I feel."
"So, what are you going to do with me?" she smiled slowly. "Hide me away as your three meter love slave in some dingy apartment?"
He blinked, then laughed quietly. Their lips drew closer together, his coming in over her shoulder in order to get around her chest. The news helicopter coming up and shining a light down on them startled them out of the moment.
"Oh great! And me bare ass naked!" McLearan shouted, angrily waving them off.
She felt her head being turned to the side as Brian pulled her chin into alignment with his. "Ya wanna know what I'm going to do? How about a job? SIA's always looking for someone with a brain and you can get far on my recommendation."
It was her turn to blink, then laugh joyously. "Can I be your junior sidekick? Howabout a really tight spandex outfit? Considering you just blew up my previous place of employment and are probably going to arrest my boss in the near future, I accept."
He grinned. "First things first. Rule number one of being a super hero. Screw the press. Do what you want on your free time and let your boss worry about putting a positive spin on it later!"
With that he kissed her. The wind from the helicopter buffeted them and the camera crews filmed away, but they were not something of importance.