Size Matters

"You want me to what?"

Bill Stewart, managing editor, raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. Across the desk, Sharon Wallace glared.

"Sharon, it's not my call," he said quickly. "I was ordered to put you on more stories like this."

Sharon crossed her arms, her glare undiminished. At four feet, eleven inches tall, the slender reporter was far from a dangerous sight. Still, knowing her temper, just the sight of that glare was enough to scare him half witless.

"I," she said slowly, "am your best reporter. I do important stories. I do not interview freaks or wannabe hero types. Give this one to a junior reporter."

Stewart shook his head. "I'm giving it to you," he replied, "because I was told to. The owners want to diversify your story lines, and they made it very clear. It's my job if I don't give you this assignment, and it's your job if you don't take it." He shook his head. "Actually," he continued, "they seem to think it will take someone as determined as you to get all the facts here. Go, talk to the man, but remember, everything is off the record unless you think there's a story here."

Sharon turned away, still glaring. "You have not," she said as she stormed out, "heard the last of this."

"That's what I was afraid you'd say," Stewart said softly, watching her small form stalk across the main room.

"Can I help you?"

"Sharon Wallace, from the Globe. Are you Brad Alsop?"

"I am."

"Mr Alsop, I believe you agreed to an exclusive interview?"

"Of course. Please come in. And, please, call me Brad."

Sharon gladly accepted the invitation. At an easy six feet, Brad towered over her, forcing her to crane her neck just to look him in the eye. Entering a nicely furnished living room, she settled quickly into an indicated chair, hoping to mask the glaring height difference.

"I suppose," he said, lowering himself into a chair opposite hers, "you're here about what happened at the store."

"I am."

"And you're not happy about it."

"I am not," Sharon replied. "I have no idea why I was given this story."

"I asked for you." At Sharon's puzzled look, Brad grinned. "One of the owners of your paper," he explained, "is an old family friend. I've read your work, and I believe I can trust you. So, I'm going to tell you the whole truth, and trust you to do the right thing with what you learn."

For a moment, Sharon simply looked at him. "We have a video," she finally said, "of an attempted robbery. In the video, a man enters the store and points a gun at the cashier. You confront him, he turns to face you, and then he simply drops the gun and runs out. When the police caught him a couple hours later, he claimed you did something to him. He says you changed him somehow. The cashier didn't see anything, and the video only shows his back. So tell me, what really happened?"

"I did change him," Brad replied. "It's a talent I have. I can change people." He shrugged. "I simply made it impossible for him to hold the gun."

"When he was arrested," Sharon pointed out, "there was nothing wrong with his hands."

Brad nodded. "It was a temporary change. I didn't want to completely disable him, just stop him from harming the girl."

Sharon frowned. "So now, like any would be hero, you want the world to know about your amazing powers."

Brad shook his head. "Actually," he said, "I would much rather none of this got out. My ability is very personal, very private. I usually don't use it where it can be seen. At the store, I acted on reflex. If it gets out, I'll never have a moment's peace."

"I don't suppose you could demonstrate this amazing ability," Sharon said mockingly. "Change something about me."

"I'd rather not."

"Because you can't." Sharon glared at him. "You're a fake and a fraud, and I intend to say exactly that in my story."

Brad sighed. "Very well. But don't say I didn't try to spare you."

Instead of replying, Sharon continued to glare. As she did, she began to notice something not quite right. Her bra suddenly began to feel tighter. She glanced down, her eyes widening as her slightly baggy blouse began to push out in front. For a moment, she could only stare, until the increasing tightness of her bra straps reached an almost painful level. Almost desperately, not caring what Brad might see, she stripped off her blouse. Reaching back, she fumbled with a bra strap that seemed stretched nearly to its limits. Finally, after a struggle, she managed to undo the clasp, letting the overstretched material snap from her fingers.

"What did you....?" Glancing down at her A cup breasts, she fell silent at the sight of the DD monsters that now adorned her chest. "What....? How....?" Eyes wide, she looked up at Brad. "You did this?"

Brad nodded. "Now can you see," he asked, "why I don't want this known? There'd be no end of people at my door, wanting me to make their breasts bigger. Or their penis. Or stop them from losing their hair."

Still staring at the huge mounds on her chest, Sharon reached up and pinched a nipple, her eyes closing at the rush of pleasure that shot through her. Not only were they much, much bigger, they were more sensitive than they'd ever been. For a moment, she simply enjoyed the sensation, but then her hands dropped as she opened her eyes and focused them on Brad.

"So," she said, glancing down, "if you can do this, can you make me taller?"

"I could."

Sharon frowned. "From that, I take it you wouldn't." It didn't come out as a question, but Brad shook his head.

"All your life," he said, "you've seen your height as a disadvantage, and you've made up for it by being aggressive, determined. You hate how you are, but you're determined not to let it hold you back." He smiled. "Basically," he continued, "your height has made you the person you are today."

Sharon's eyes widened. How could he understand her so well after only a few minutes? "Do you read minds as well?"

Brad grinned. "No," he replied, "only people. I pay attention. And I know that if I changed your height, I'd change the very thing that made you who you are."

Staring at him, Sharon suddenly realized that she was still topless, her huge new breasts totally exposed. "Well," she said, blushing, "can you read that I really don't need this much on top? Might make it a little hard to stay vertical with that much weight there."

Laughing, Brad nodded. Glancing down, Sharon watched as her breasts shrank, stopping somewhere between a B and C cup. They were bigger than before, but not too big. For a moment, she admired their firmness, before glancing up questioningly.

"My gift to you," Brad said, "and my apology for humiliating you that way."

"I wasn't humiliated," Sharon replied, reaching up slowly. "Just very surprised. Are they...?" Gently pinching one nipple, she moaned softly. "Oh, yes, still very sensitive."

"That's my bad," Brad said. "You're just so beautiful, I'd love to play with you all day." He grinned. "With a few minor accessories, that is."

"What accessories?" When Brad answered, Sharon's eyes widened.

"Anyone seen Sharon?" Stewart stood in the door to his office, holding a slip of paper. "I just found a note from her saying there was no story."

"I think she took a few days off," replied Jan, one of the other reporters. Stewarts's eyes widened at this, since Sharon had never taken any days off in all her time here.

"Well," he finally said, "I hope she enjoys them."

"How's that?"

Sharon squirmed experimentally. Ropes held her arms behind her, bound forearm to forearm. Her knees were bent, more rope securing each ankle to a thigh, while even more rope bound each knee to an upper arm. With her body secured into a ball, she could only roll helplessly on the floor. Glancing up, she nodded, smiling behind the panel covering her mouth.

"Good." Smiling, Brad easily lifted her from the floor. Eagerly, she spread her knees as he drew her to him, lowering her slowly, letting her weight push him into her. With one hand on her ass, the other arm around her back, he began to raise and lower her.

Moaning, Sharon closed her eyes, losing herself in her helplessness as well as this most unusual form of lovemaking. Size does matter, she told herself, feeling her arousal begin its slow climb. And at this moment, for the first time in her life, her own size seemed exactly right.

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03.12.14