
Robert Freely walked cautiously over the dunes, peering at the castle though
half of a broken pair of binoculars. In a past life, the smallfolk had built
him great castles just like the one before him, but it had been a long time
since he had granted a boon for the construction of a castle. The smallfolk
these days still made castles, but they were pathetic. Usually, it was the
small loud ones who made the castles, and Robert hated the noise they made.
It would not be as great as sitting in a castle at high noon, but he would
be happy to spend time in the castle before him at night.

Robert was so delighted at the artistry of the castle that he did not notice
the smallfolk woman sleeping beside it until he arrived. He had hoped to have
more time alone with the castle, but he kept the accords, and he would have to
wake her if he wanted to enjoy the castle.

"Wha?" Mel made a groggy noise as she woke. Waking was always a slow affair for
Mel. She managed it a little faster than usual when she realized that a dwarf 
was shaking her awake.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I am Robert Freely, of Ireland." He paused, as if that ought
to be significant to her. "I accept your gift of a castle, and I will bestow
upon you a boon as a token of my gratitude." He waited expectantly.

He wasn't a dwarf, Mel realized. He did not have the large knuckles and unusual
proportions that are a sign of dwarfism. He looked just like a man grown, except that
he stood only 2 feet tall. "I, umm." Was all she managed.

"Come now, lass. What'll it be? Bountiful crops? Good
health? I'm quite good with crops." He said.

Mel, who had always been healthy and had never worked on a farm in her life,
did not know quite what to do with the little man. To be honest he scared her
a little. "I don't need anything." She finally said.

Robert set his jaw. The lass wished to deny him the castle! What had he ever
done to her! Smallfolk used to jump at the opportunity to give a castle to him.
"Well then. I'll just be on me way then." He said after a bit.

The little man looked so dejected, that Mel called out, "Wait! You can have the
sandcastle. Don't leave on my account. I should be going back home anyway.
It's yours, really."

Robert felt his eyes grow moist at the unexpected kindness. Where was his hard
heart now? He should be jumping with glee at the deal. Instead, he bowed deeply
and tugged his hat. "Thank you ma'am."

Melinda walked off with a smile. It was a fitting way to end the summer. She
loved the stormy shores near her house, and she had spent most of the summer
walking up and down the dark expanse of rock and sand. The landscape lent
a melancholy cast to her wanderings which seemed to fit the cloak of depression
she dragged behind her. There was something in the desolate beauty of the rocks
and waves which made Mel feel *right* even when she struggled to get out of
bed in the mornings.

She had fallen asleep after finishing the huge sandcastle, and being woken by
the strange man lent the whole affair a surreal quality that seemed to summarize
the long days of kicking rocks down the (nearly) empty beaches. Mel could almost
believe that she would leave her dark moods behind her when she went off to
college in a week.

================================================================================

"Is that sand in your hair Mel?" Her father asked from across the breakfast
table. Mel hadn't wanted to go indoors last night, so she had just grabbed a
blanket from the porch and curled up in the hammock. She had not had a chance
to shower.

"Yeah. I dozed off on the beach yesterday." She replied simply.

George Marsh regarded his daughter from under bushy brows. His daughter had
always been a loner, as much a child of the wind and waves as she was of
him and his wife Anna. The Marsh clan was not particularly emotionally
articulate bunch, but he was beginning to worry that there was something
deeper going on with her. It was hard to remember the last time he had
seen her convincingly happy.

Mel picked at her bowl of oatmeal. Hunger gnawed at the walls of her stomach,
but she would not allow herself to eat very much. It was a terrible struggle
to keep herself at a reasonable weight. Her body rebelled against her,
converting anything she ate into fat with an impressive efficiency that
infuriated her. It was not that she had a slow metabolism: she had plenty
of energy. Rather, it just seemed that her body was particularly efficient
when it came to converting food into fat. It would not have been so bad
if she were not so hungry all the time. You would think an efficient stomach
meant she just ate less, but it was only through an effort of will that she
was able to keep her portion size under control. If anything, she ate more
than average during the few times that she allowed herself free reign.

She almost sighed with relief when her father left the table. It was hard
to keep up appearances around her parents. When she was alone she did
not have to expend effort pretending to be happy (or at least pretending
not to be miserable). She let a spoonful of gray slurry dribble off
her spoon and back into her bowl and sighed, "I wish I didn't have to
worry so much about where this would go if I just ate it." She slouched
over to to the sink and began cleaning out her bowl.

From the shadows beside the rubbish bin, Robert Freely watched as the
smallwoman dragged herself around the kitchen. He would be well within
his rights to leave well enough alone, but it had been a long time since
he had had a proper castle and the smallwoman seemed so pathetic that
he felt obligated to do something. She might not have asked for a boon,
but she had just made a wish. Wishes took more out of Robert than a boon
would have. The other leprechauns would make terrible fun of him if they
ever found out about this.

He set his jaw and upended his flask of whiskey into his mouth. He would
need to be good and drunk to gather enough power for a proper wish. He
did not want this kind smallwoman to have to deal with a partial or
broken wish. When his vision started to blur, he stopped drinking (the
flask would never run dry). The actual wish granting process was over
in an instant. Robert felt vigor leave his body and he was sure that a
few more of the red hairs on his head had turned gray.

================================================================================

Mel examined herself in the mirror in her bedroom with a critical
eye. To another, the image in the looking glass would have been
attractive, but Mel only saw her flaws. She paid no mind to her
pale peaches-and-cream skin or the jumble of fiery hair that fell
down around her shoulders. Neither her cute button of a nose, nor
her striking blue eyes factored into her own harsh self-assessment.
She did notice her plump red lips, but only enough to decide that
they made her look like a desperate fat whore.

Her slightly plump body was what drew the majority of Mel's attention.
She pinched and prodded at the layer of fat which covered her torso,
paying particular attention to the puddle flesh which clung to her
belly. She regarded the small measure of fat which hung off her
triceps as proof that she was nearing obesity. Her thighs were just
as damning under the warped vision of her anorexic eyes. Mel would
have been very surprised to learn that several of her high-school
classmates found her quite attractive; she was just too much of a
loner to approach.

Suddenly, the fact that she was going off to college in a week
came crashing down upon her and she sat down on the floor,
wrapping her arms around her knees. If she had not been able
to loose the weight yet, she definitely wouldn't be able to
in the week that remained. She might as well just give up.

She went down in the kitchen and started cracking eggs in a
pan. She did not hold back, opening eight of the protean
balls before she started adding cheese, chopped sausage,
spinach, and diced peppers. She made four pieces of toast and
slathered each liberally with butter as she cooked. Her stomach
was almost growling by the time she dug into the huge meal.
She crammed food into her mouth in huge bites, hardly pausing
to chew. Then, quite quickly, she was finished and her stomach
was bowed out, taught with tension.

Not wanting the binge to be over, she went to the freezer and
pulled out a tub of black raspberry ice cream. Each bite seemed
to stave off the lurking self-hatred for a few more precious
seconds. Eventually, the ice cream also ran out. Mel just sat
at the table, horrified at what she had done. She thought about
rushing to the bathroom and getting the food out of her body, but
that would mean admitting to herself that she had an eating disorder,
which she could not bring herself to do. Instead, she gathered up
the dishes and washed them in silence.

Even though she hated herself for the binge, the food still felt
heavenly in her belly. She knew that other people disliked the
sensation of too much food, but it had never bothered Mel. She
ate more than anyone else at Thanksgiving each year, the one
time she usually allowed herself to eat as much as she liked.
Even so she often felt like she could eat more while her cousins
were all complaining that they were painfully stuffed, and she
always enjoyed the sensation of her belly being full to capacity.
She could not help but feel the same satisfaction now, even if
it was nearly drown out by her self-hatred.

Mel wandered over to the couch and collapsed. She was going to
enjoy this food coma as much as she could.

================================================================================

When Mel woke, the first thing she noticed was the way her clothes pinched.
The pain served as confirmation that her body was as rebelliously efficient
as always. She knew she would have to work for weeks to get back to where
she had been before the binge. Despite the way that her bra pinched
uncomfortably, a part of her wanted to just run to the kitchen and do the
same thing all over again. She quickly smashed that part of herself and
walked up to her room to examine the damage more thoroughly.

Standing before the mirror in nothing but her bra and panties, Mel regarded
herself suspiciously. Her puddle of belly fat did not actually look any
bigger. If anything, it actually seemed to be a bit smaller. In fact, the
same seemed to be true of each of the familiar places of fatty accumulation
on her body. The obvious exception was her breasts. Her pale flesh spilled
over the rims of her 36B bra, and it was easy to see why the garment had
been hurting. Clearly, a bit more of the food had ended up in Mel's breasts
than usual, though she suspected she was overestimating how much. In fact,
the more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed to her that the
pinching sensation was due to an overly small band rather than any significant
increase in breast mass. Her swollen bosom was not enough to explain the 5
pounds that the scale said she had gained, so she turned to look for more
places the weight could have gone. Viewing herself in profile, it was obvious
that some of the fat had ended up padding her ass. She reached down to grab
an handful of the flesh and was surprised by how firm it felt under her
fingers. She had been expecting more flab. Looking at herself in the mirror,
even Mel was forced to admit that she looked just as good at 135 pounds
as she had at 130. Any other observer would have said she looked better.

Finally tiring of her self-scrutiny, she slathered herself in sun-screen
in preparation for wandering the beach. She was always very liberal with
the sun-screen. Given her extensive problems with her body, she did not
want to add pealing skin to her list of complaints. When she pulled on
her black one-piece swim suit she was surprised to see that a tiny hint
of cleavage peaked out from under her neckline. That was new.

She grabbed a towel on her way outside and scooped up her bucket of
tools on the way to the sandy path to the beach. Sharp rocks bit into
her bare feet as she walked down the path, but her soles had built up
a thick rind over the years growing up on the rocky Maine coast and
she paid no mind to the jagged spurs under her feet. She walked over
the rocks, sometimes having to bend to scramble up or down the
dark boulders, until she found a good expanse of black sand. She had
been on a sandcastle kick for the last month and given the odd events
of the previous day, the creations had taken on an almost magical
air. She had grand plans for today's construction.

Robert Freely watched in amazement as the smallwoman built yet
another castle. He had been following her to make sure that the
wish took, and now he found himself crouched in the lee of a wall
of sedge grass watching as she made another castle, this one even
grander than the last. Did she want another chance at a boon?
Perhaps she did not realize that he had already granted her a wish.
It was apparent that the wish had in fact worked, and faster than
Robert would have thought possible, so he could just go on his way.
Still, the draw of the castle under construction kept him watching.
It would be fine indeed to have two castles of such quality in as
many days.

Eventually, the smallwoman finished the castle and wandered off down
the beach and Robert walked over to the castle. He could feel his magic
swell as he sat down inside the first set of walls. The smallwoman worked
incredibly fast considering the amount of detail she put into the magnificent
castle. It was finer than any whiskey he had ever tasted.

When Robert had drunk his fill of the castle, he walked down the beach,
following the tracks of the smallwoman who had given him two such fine
castles. She deserved the chance at another boon. It was not typical to
grant on smallfolk more than one chance at a boon, but it had been such
a long time since any of them even remembered the proper way to treat
a leprechaun that Robert felt he ought to make allowances. Besides,
the smallwoman reminded him of a lost puppy, and Robert had always had
a soft spot for lost animals.

When he found her again, Robert felt fear crawl its way up his spine.
She was not, as he had believed, a sad smallwoman building him castles
out of kindness. No, she was a witch who had laid a dreadful trap for
him, and he was so out of practice that he had walked right into it.
Drunk on whiskey and castles as we was, he knew he would not be able
to escape.

Mel put the finishing touches on the sandcastle and sat back on her
heels. She had started work in the gather twilight and worked into the
night. This was without a doubt her best work so far. She had incorporated
driftwood and sea glass to give the castle an otherworldly beauty, and
by the light of the full moon it looked more beautiful than anything
she could think of. She smiled then, a genuine expression of joy, untarnished
by her painful body image or the cloak of depression she dragged with her
wherever she went.

She looked up in surprise as the little man from the previous night walked up
to her over the sand. When he walked right by her, she realized that it was
not her that he was walking up to, but the castle.

"May I grant you a boon, lass?" He asked in the tone of a man walking to the
gallows.

She looked at him and smiled, "I don't need a boon. I'm glad you're here
to share this castle. I think its my best yet!"

"Well, lass, I suppose I could not have expected a different answer.
I have taken from you thrice, you asking nary a thing in return. I
did grant you a wish in payment for the first, but you never asked
for that. You have caught me well and true, and I will not complain
as I go to my grave." He said glumly.

Mel looked at the strange man with alarm, "What do you mean? I just
let you look at my sandcastle before. I don't mean you any harm."

He looked at her in astonishment. Finally he said, "Aye. You might not
at that. The smallfolk don't remember anything these days."

"Please, I don't want anything to happen to you. Is there anything I
can do?"

Robert shook his head, "I'm afraid it's too late for that now. What's
done is done. I have take from you thrice, and now you will take my
strength and magic and life. To my knowledge it has been over a thousand
years since one of the smallfolk has claimed the life of a leprechaun
in this way. If I had a hat I would tip it to you."

Mel just looked at him. For some reason, she felt no inclination to
question his casual claim at being a leprechaun. "W-what about that
boon thing? Can you grant me good crops or something and live?"

"Nay, lass. You have already refused. A boon, once refused, can never
be reclaimed. I see now that you truly meant no harm, so I will try to
tell you a little more about what you have done." He paused, gathering
himself.

"First, you will have my strength. I may not look it, but I'm as strong
as an ox. Stronger even. At your size, you will be able to throw a
tree near a mile I expect. Next, you will have my magic. We leprechaun
are no great sorcerers, but we do have a few small magics to aid us.
I can see that you know nothing of the folk, so I will tell you that the
most important magic for a leprechaun is the pocket. We are keepers of
things you see, and being not so large as one of you, we must store our
things somewhere safe. There are several cantraps you might learn, but
the granting of boons and wishes is our only other notable ability.
You have never signed the accords, so you won't be able to grant wishes,
but if someone does you a good turn you will be able to grant them a boon.
The last thing I will give you will be my life. Leprechauns are a long lived
and hearty bunch. We are hard to kill, and without a killing we will never
die." By the time he finished speaking, Robert looked noticeably paler.

Mel found herself crying when she said, "I'm very sorry sir. I never meant
you any harm. Can I grant you a boon to live? Is there anything else I can
do?"

Robert just shook his head, "No lass. Perhaps a wish would be enough to
keep me alive, but I'm afraid that in not in either of our power now.
When I die, my pocket will die with me, so I will empty it now that you
may find some use for the things within."

So saying, he reached into *somewhere* and pulled out a small guitar
case, which he placed on the sand in front of him. Next he drew a sword
longer than he was tall from the same strange place. All manner of
strange items came tumbling out of the rip in the air that only the
leprechaun could see. Most arrived without comment, but from time to
time Robert would explain the magic of some new item. Here was a spoon
that would purify any water it was dipped in. There was a sword pretending
to be an umbrella. Here was a teletype machine which could talk to the
dead. Finally, Robert pulled out a small iron bowl. "This is one of the
original pots. I give it freely as a gift to you. It will be full of gold
so long as you draw breath."

Mel was sobbing now. It was so unfair that this kind little leprechaun
would die. It was worse that it would be her fault.

"Come now, lass. I'm the one whose dying, not you. Chin up." Robert said,
taking her hand.

Mel just nodded and gulped, but she continued to sob. She sat by the
leprechaun's side, holding his hand as he grew weaker and weaker. The
experience was made all the more terrible by the way she could feel
herself growing stronger and more vigorous as he faded away.

When the light finally faded from Robert's eyes Mel pried a stone
bigger than herself out of the sand to make a hole for the burial.
She held the rock above her head easily, as if it weighed no more
than five pounds. With a shout of anger she hurled it out over
the sea. It sailed through the air until she could hardly see it
before plunging into the waves. The weight of the stone had driven
her legs into the sand up to her knees, so she pulled them out with
two mighty motions.

When she laid Robert's body down in the hole and covered him with
sand, it was with a gentleness that stood in stark contrast with her
violent outburst. A few tears fell off her nose and onto the dead
leprechaun's face, and she laid a single kiss upon his brow before
jumping out of the hole. She stood watching him for a long moment,
hoping that her kiss would have some magical ability to revive him,
but he just lay there like deadwood. After a moment she went and got
her shovel and began to fill in the hole.

Once she was finished filling in the hole she started building a sand
castle over Robert's grave. She thought her last one had been a
masterpiece, but the castle she made now was even greater. Her attention
to detail never wavered. Everything had to be perfect for Robert. The
only flaws in the construction were the places where her tears left little
pock-marks in the smooth sand.

Finally, she gathered up her tools and what she could carry from Robert's
pocket and headed back to her house. She made several trips back to carry
everything that Robert had laid out on the sand. She stashed his pocket
in the old shed in the back yard before stumbling into bed.

================================================================================

When Mel woke at 3 in the afternoon, it was with a terrific hunger. The
events of the previous night had destroyed any ability she had to resist
her body's demands, so she went down to the kitchen and started making
herself a huge meal.

"You got in late last night, huh?" It was her mother.

"Uuuhhh. Yeah. I lost track of time making sandcastles. I think I got
back at six." Mel replied morosely. She noticed that the handle of
the cast iron frying pan had bend slightly in her grip.

"You really should be getting yourself in a school schedule. I know
you've been keeping odd hours this summer, but you will thank yourself
if you are conditioned to get up on time." Her mother said.

Mel smiled, "I know mom. I think this will be the last time I make
sandcastles for a while."

"Okay dear." Her mother replied.

Alone in the kitchen again, Mel ate and ate. She filled the hungry
void in her gut, and then continued to eat. Whenever she ran out
of food, she would just get up and make more. By the time she stumbled
back into her room her belly was painfully swollen. She had finally
found a point at which she could no longer cram more into her body.

================================================================================

When Mel woke the next morning she felt a pang of horror at her behavior,
but after watching Robert die, she did not have as much energy as usual
to devote to anorexia. Still, she dragged her body over to the mirror
to examine the damage.

Her one-piece suit was noticeably stretched out, though it had shifted
more in some places than in others. Where there had been just a hint of
cleavage at the neck line visible the day before, now there was a little
over an inch. Her nipples were visible through the thin fabric, and when
she turned to examine herself in profile her bust looked significant.
*That's not such a bad change* she thought to herself. Of course, she
suspected that it was just a trick of the way that the suit stretched over
her body. Her ass seemed to have undergone a similar transformation. When
she pointed her rear towards the mirror, she could see that she had a
genuine bubble butt, or at least appeared to. Despite her close scrutiny
she could find no further evidence of extra fat clinging to her limbs.
She pealed off the tight swim suit and regarded her belly suspiciously.
If anything the puddle of fat had receded.

Mel kept looking at her body, and the more she looked the more she found to
dislike. Yet, there was a part of her that wondered if she was just grasping
for something to be dissatisfied with. She had definitely gained weight
from her latest binge, but it seemed to have gone to all the right places.

When Mel tried to put on underwear, she found that she was only able to
make her panties comfortable by letting the sides ride up her wide hips
and settle around her narrower waist. She had never had such a dramatic
flare to her hips before, so it was somewhat surprising. When she tried
to put on a bra, it was just too painful. She did manage to get one on,
but her nipples kept slipping over the tops of the cups, and when she put
a shirt on over it, her quad-boob was very obvious. She decided to
go without and pulled a pastel yellow t-shirt over her head. The shirt
used to be a little baggy, and it still was, except around the chest.
Fortunately, the knee length flowing green skirt she wore fit fine, as
her waist had not grown at all. In fact, the skirt was a little loose
around the waist. The extra junk in Mel's trunk meant that he hem of
the skit rode a little higher than she was used to.

When she finished dressing, Mel looked at herself in the mirror again
and it was as if she was seeing herself for the first time. *I look, hot?*
she thought to herself in confusion. The curvy woman standing in the mirror
looked sexy, and Mel could not deny it any longer. She realized how striking
her red curls and bright blue eyes made her, and now she had the curves to
complete the package. *I just have to keep my pudge hidden* she thought
to herself.

Mel felt a little thrill run through her. She decided that today was a good
day to use the small makeup kit she kept on her dresser. Mel was quite
good with the kit, but she had never felt comfortable going out in public
with makeup on. A saying about putting lipstick on a pig always stuck in
her head whenever she tried. Still, learning how to apply the face paint
from YouTube videos helped make her feel a little more feminine in the
depths of her depression and anorexia. Looking at herself now, her fears no
longer felt justified, and she wanted to embrace her femininity. She applied
it only lightly. It was just enough to bring her eyes out even more and
draw a little extra attention to her luscious lips. Normally she was ashamed
of having what the internet called dick sucking lips, but today she
decided she should embrace the erotic cast they added to her face.

The primping helped Mel feel better, but as she walked down the stairs
the whole affair with Robert came crashing back. By the time she entered
the kitchen she was back to her usual morose self.

================================================================================

"Good morning honey. You look great today!" Anna Marsh said when she saw her
daughter walk into the kitchen. Melinda had always been a striking girl,
with her bright hair and eyes, and Anna had always felt that Mel was too
hard on herself when it came to her looks. It looked like Mel had decided
to put an effort into looking good today, and Anna was a little surprised
at the skill with which he tasteful makeup had been applied.

Mel smiled at her mother, "Thanks! Are those pancakes I smell?"

Anna smiled, "I know how much you used to like them so I wanted to make
some for you before you go off to school."

Mel grinned, "Thanks Mom!" She said, grabbing a plate a loading it up.

Anna could not have been more happy as she watched her daughter fill
her plate. Maybe Mel would finally start eating. She could not help
but wonder if this was somehow connected to the makeup her daughter
was suddenly wearing. The two women ate in companionable silence until
Mel went up for seconds. When she went up for thirds, Anna could not help
smiling. She had forgotten how much her daughter could eat when she
decided to.

"What Mom?" Asked Mel.

"I'm just glad to see you with this much energy. It's been a while."
She said.

Mel smiled back, "I guess I'm feeling like I should make a change."
She said.

When Mel sat back down with her fourth loaded plate, Anna noticed the
way her daughter's breasts bounced heavily. They seemed noticeably bigger
than usual, and Anna wondered why she had not noticed earlier. With a
start, Anna realized that Mel was not wearing a bra, her large nipples
making prominent dents in her shirt. Her young breasts hardly sagged
at all, so it was easy to see why Anna had not noticed the lack of
support. "Mel, do we need to go shopping for new clothes for you?" She asked.

Mel looked up from the food she was shoveling into he mouth, "Oh, yeah
I think so. I couldn't fit in my bra this morning."

"Ok. Let's clean up and then we can go to the mall. We can do a girls
day." She said.

Mel nodded and put the last bite in her mouth. "I can clean up." She said,
clearing the dishes. "You go get the car ready. I won't be long." She said.

After her mother had left Mel put the dishes in the sink and turned the
water on. She reached for the sponge to begin washing, but a spark seemed
to jump from her fingertips and hit the soft object. The dishes leapt to
life and almost before she had realized what had happened they had cleaned and
dried themselves. Troubled by the way she benefited from Robert's death,
Mel went out to join her mother.

Mel could feel her body digesting the big wad of food in her stomach as they
drove. She felt energy fill her body, and despite her sorrow for Robert, she
had never felt better physically. The tight fabric of her shirt rubbed against
her nipples, making her aroused. At first she thought it was from her breasts
bouncing around, but then she realized that her shirt was too tight for the
potholes which set her chest jiggling to cause that much friction. The only
explanation was that her breasts were growing ever so slowly as she digested
the food in her belly. The thought of it thrilled her a little. She did not
know what had changed, but her body had changed its game. It was still
unreasonably efficient, but now it put the fruits of that efficiency in
all the right places. Now that she was paying attention, Mel noticed that
her eyes were growing marginally higher. She was not sure if that was from
extra padding on her ass or from a growing spine. She was fine with either
explanation. At 5'2", she had always wanted to be taller, and somehow that
seemed like a possibility now.

The first stop in the mall was the large lingerie store. They found
a tall brunet saleswoman to do a fitting for Mel, and she was a little
thrilled to see how much larger she was than the woman measuring
her. The only woman Mel had been around since her growth was her mother,
and comparing cup sizes with her mom felt strange.

To Mel's surprise, she learned that she had a 34 inch underbust and a
41 inch bust. She had been expecting to need a 36DD or 38D, but instead
she needed a 34G. "Wow, I didn't realize how much I had grown." She
said when the saleswoman told her her new size.

Fortunately, the store was large enough that it had a decently sized section
for larger women, and Mel was able to pick out a few different bras in her
size to try on. Stepping into the changing room she shucked off her shirt and
hung it on one of the hooks. Selecting a gray pin-stripped number she held
the cups in front of her, marveling at their size, grinning at the idea that
they were meant to fit *her*. She carefully fit the cups over her grapefruit
sized breasts and hooked the straps around her shoulders. The bra pushed
her breasts up and together, forming the most delicious cleavage, and
Mel knew she had to have it. Turning her body this way and that, she admired
herself in the mirror. The puddle of fat on her belly had disappeared, leaving
a smooth expanse of pale flesh behind. Similarly, her arms and legs now
appeared to be toned muscle. Her fat was now concentrated in her breasts.
At first she thought some was in her ass as well, but then she flexed
her rear and watched as hard muscle moved under the surface her her taught
skin. Somehow she had gone from having a flabby behind to looking like she
squatted every day.

*I'm a bombshell* she realized. How had that happened? If only she were a
little taller.

Looking at her deep cleavage, Mel had an idea. She grabbed her shirt from
where it lay and stuffed it between her breasts. She wanted to know what
she would look like if she grew even larger, but to her disappointment, her
chest just swallowed the garment without seemed to change its profile in the
slightest. In confusion, Mel peered down between her mammaries, but she
could not see her shirt. She reached down to fish it out and gasped as she
felt her hand pass through something. Her hand closed on her shirt and she
pulled it out. Her brow furrowed in confusion, Mel pushed her shirt back down
between her breasts. Again, it disappeared. She took off the bra, expecting
the shirt of fall back out, but it did not. When she pulled her breasts apart
and still saw nothing, she realized what had happened. She pushed her breasts
together to form cleavage and reached between them to draw out her shirt once
more. This must be the pocket that Robert was talking about. Placing her
shirt back in her pocket again, she focused on it and found that she could
feel it within the strange space. With a thought she folded the shirt perfectly
and drew it back out again. Placing it between her breasts once more, she
ironed the shirt with a thought and pulled it out. The cotton was still warm
from the iron. This would be awfully convenient, though the discovery of
her new ability left Mel to morn for Robert yet again.

She ended up walking out of the store with a couple of sports bras and two
new push-ups. Her mother had raised an eyebrow at the lacy garments, but
she had not said anything.

They spent the next couple of hours bouncing between shops. Mostly, they
browsed, but they did pick up several new blouses for Mel.

Just before they left for the day Mel ducked into a fabric store and bought
a couple of yards of silk, wool, and cotton in various colors. When her
mother asked about it Mel just said that she was thinking of taking up sewing.

================================================================================

The first thing that Mel did when she got home was go to the shed and start
putting the contents of Robert's pocket into her cleavage. All the items in
the collection were either quite small or long and thin. Mel suspected that
Robert had been limited by the size of the opening of his pocket. The largest
of his items did not seem to cause any trouble for her even when they were
a little bigger than her cleavage would naturally allow. Her breasts grew
briefly to accommodate the larger items when she stuffed them into place.

She packed up all her things for school over the next few days, filling a
suitcase with clothes, books and electronics. Of course, most of her belongings
went in her pocket, but she had to have something for her parents to
see when she left.

The day before she left, Mel made herself a huge feast. There was not
much rhyme or reason to the way she matched the food. She just cooked
whatever sounded good. She cooked and ate a whole box of brownies,
a batch of chocolate chip cookies, a whole chicken, a pot of mashed
potatoes, and three tubs of ice cream. She ate to the point where it
became painful and then kept eating. She could feel her body converting
the food into fat and muscle even as she shoveled bite after heaping bite
into her mouth. When her belly extended further from her body than her
breasts, she stopped for a brief rest and then soldiered on. Eventually
she sat back patting he swollen belly and let out a huge belch. It
was a Friday, so neither of her parents were home. Taking advantage of
the privacy, she snapped her fingers and watched as the dishes rapidly
washed themselves.

She waddled up to her room and stripped down to her underwear to stand
in front of the mirror. Her breasts were already overwhelming her
poor bra, and the sides of he panties had rolled up her hips to settle
around her waist. The swelling globes of her ass were driving her panties
into her crack, making them look more and more like a thong. Mel just
stood there for an hour watching as her belly receded and her breasts
swelled, inch by inch. Eventually one of her thumb sized nipples peaked
over the rim of her bra, and she reached up to start playing with it.
A spike of sensation traveled from the engorged erectile tissue to her
spine and she gasped. Had she always been that sensitive?

Her body continued moving the food to all the right places as Mel
watched. Her breasts were spilling out from under the bra as well
as out of the sides and over the top. Something had to give, and
Mel gasped as the bra snapped, allowing her breasts to bounce free.
They were glorious, and she cupped the soft flesh in her hands with
delight. There was so *much* of her. Her panties snapped a moment later,
and the Mel stood in all her naked glory before the mirror. She could
make out a faint six-pack under the shadow of her heavy breasts. Looking
at her toned body, she wondered just how strong she was. She found a quarter
on her desk and held it in front of her for a second. She squeezed the
coin lightly between her thumb and forefinger and watched as it bent and
folded. She was lucky that it was so easy to control her strength. After
the incident with the frying pan handled she had not had any more misadventures
with her newfound strength.

None of her clothes would fit her now, so Mel decided it was time to put one
of her plans into effect. The fabric she had bought was waiting in her pocket
along with several of her clothes. Turning the fabric into new clothes was
as easy as thinking about it, so she was soon pulling a new bra from her
considerable cleavage. It took her a few tries to get it right, but before
long she had a bra which fit her perfectly. She didn't need it, but it
was a push-up bra, making her cantaloupe sized breasts seem even larger than
they were. The rest of her wardrobe followed shortly, and before long
Mel was wearing a red miniskirt and a black fitted v-neck which showed of
several inches of dark cleavage. She snapped her fingers and her makeup
kit jumped to life, covering her face with a subtle layer that brought
her already striking face to life. The woman in the mirror dispelled
the last shred of Mel's body image problem.

================================================================================

Anna knew that Mel had bought a few push-up bras but she was surprised
by just how much of a difference they seemed to make for her daughter's
figure. It looks as if her chest had doubled in size overnight. She guessed
that Mel just had more material to work with making the deceptive garments
more effective, but even so the impact was startling. Mel seemed to have
transformed from a pretty, slightly chubby girl into a complete bombshell
in less than a week. Anna knew it must just have been that she was not
paying close enough attention, but the impression of an dramatic overnight
makeover was hard to ignore. If Anna was a little uncomfortable with the way
Mel was emphasizing her body, she found it vastly preferable to the depressed,
colorless girl who had loafed around the house for most of the summer.

Anna was much more hopeful than she had expected to be as she dropped her
daughter off with the student leaders of the kayaking pre-orientation
group she was a part of. Mel was full of life as she walked out of the
car with her suitcase under one arm and a fist full of dry bags slung
over the opposite shoulder. Anna was impressed by her daughter's easy
strength. She had lugged the suitcase to the car, and she had been quite
glad of the wheels it possessed. Mel might be packing light, but her single
large suitcase was still heavy.
