Redder

Bear shrugged. "In Chrystal Heights," he said, "sometimes those are the ones you have to be most careful around."

"Whatever," I said. "Anyway, it's passed. I didn't take her stupid necklace."

Bear looked at me again. Then his eyes dropped to my chest and rested there a moment. Then he looked at me again.

"Glad to hear it," he said. Then he turned and walked into the office.

I stood there perplexed for a moment. That was weird. Bear was a big, gruff biker and no one to mess with, but he was also a professional. And he was aware of my sexuality. Staring blatantly at my chest wasn't his style at all.

I shook my head. What the hell was wrong with people today?

The whole scene had done nothing to improve my mood. I pushed past Snake and stomped my way back to my work area. In fact, I stomped so hard my boobs were jiggling all over the place.

Then my eyes widened as I came to an abrupt stop.

Jiggling? Jiggling?

I couldn't jiggle. I didn't have tits enough to jiggle. But I was.

Heart pounding, I made a beeline back to the bathroom once. Once inside, I yanked up my shirt.

The bra was still in place, of course, and it was still red. The boobs inside the bra, however, had changed. Specifically, they had swelled. Firm, heavy globes now filled the cups, pressing against each other, straining against their containment, creating a breathlessly erotic cleavage line.

No wonder Bear had been staring. I had been so distracted by the gypsy woman and talking to Bear that I hadn't realized I had sprouted fucking bimbo boobs. But Bear had.

"No...fucking...way," I said out loud. "No fucking way!"

My boobs were growing. My boobs were fucking growing! This was impossible!

"Only in fucking Chrystal Heights!" I said, my breath hissing through clenched teeth.

*****

I went home, stripped down to my red panties and lay down.

My fingers idly played with my nipples as I went over the day's events in my head. My lush breasts framed my embarrassingly girly fingernails, giving them a sensuous femininity.

I glanced down at my bare feet. It was impossible to miss my red toes.

Shaking my head, I rolled over to get some sleep. It was impossible to position myself in a way that allowed me to not have to deal with having big frickin' tits. They were distracting. They were inconvenient. They were just there. They couldn't be ignored.

And they felt good. Constantly.

Every jiggle sent ripples of heat through my belly. Every touch, every gentle caress made me flush. It was...it was...distracting.

Fucking gypsy woman. I huffed and rolled over again, trying not to rub my nipples.

*****

The next morning, I woke up sucking my thumb.

I sat up, my thumb still planted between my lips. I stood and made my way to the bathroom, red toes flashing as I padded across the room barefoot.

My reflection stared at me over my fist. Blinking, I finally realized what I was doing. I pulled my thumb out of my mouth and gazed at my reflection.

My mouth dropped open.

My boobs were still lush balloons. There was little to no change there. If anything, they were bigger. But now my lips were plump and swollen as well, and even more embarrassing, they were just as red as my fingernails and toenails.

And then there was my hair.

Hair care isn't a passion of mine, so my brown hair is usually cut pretty short. Now, however, rings of tight red curls were exploding from my head in every direction. Waves of permed hair flowed over my bare shoulders and down my back.

I stumbled back a step, unable to even make a sound. How...how the hell was she doing this? How the hell was that gypsy woman able to do this to me?!

Redder.

*****

It didn't take long to realize I had other problems as well.

My lips were sensitive. Very sensitive. Just running my tongue along my top lip left my belly muscles trembling in need. Trying to eat anything with a spoon left me a wet, squirming mess.

But I needed something in my mouth.

Anything touching my red, swollen lips made me wriggle and squirm in heat, but not having anything in my mouth made me feel so...empty. It was horrible.

And my boobs were just as sensitive. Every jiggle sent a ripple through my belly. The softest pressure left me floating in an erotic haze.

It was embarrassing. It was distracting. It was frustrating.

Trying to work like this was going to be a challenge, but whatever. It had to be done. That fucking gypsy woman was not going to bully me into anything.

My resolve once again fortified, I stripped off my panties and started the shower. Everything felt different, though. This shouldn't have been a surprise, since I was now sporting a thick mass of hair on my head, but it wasn't until I started working in the shampoo that I finally realized what the actual problem was.

My hair was just as sensitive as my lips.

The more I lathered my hair, the more aroused I became. I was practically mewling with heat now. I tried to control myself by alternating the pressure and the method, but it didn't do me any good. As I worked my wet locks clean, I tried to resist my growing arousal, but finally I closed my eyes, threw back my head and squealed helplessly as my body exploded into orgasm.

When I finally opened my eyes, I realized I had dropped to my knees. I had no memory of doing so. Oh, gawd, I had cum so hard.

I slowly got to my feet. I had no idea how I was going to function.

*****

I knew my bra and panties were going to turn red when I put them on, so I didn't bat an eye when they changed color. Unfortunately, that was now the least of my problems.

My jeans turned into a short, flippy red skirt. My tee-shirt turned into a red halter-top. And my boots- my leather motorcycle boots- turned into red strappy high heels.

I wanted to cry. There was no way I could work like this. I was going to have to call the gypsy woman and admit defeat.

*****

Calling in to work wasn't easy. "Uhh, yeah, boss, I can't come in because I'm stuck in high heels" didn't seem like it would fly, so I had to tell Bear I wasn't feeling good. Asking him to get the gypsy woman's phone number for me was worse. In fact, I had to talk fast to get him to do it.

"Tell me again why you need the kid's number," he said.

"It's just a follow up, boss," I said. "You know...just checking to make sure his bike is working fine. A, umm, gesture of good will and shit. Umm, stuff, I mean. Customer service."

The phone was silent for several seconds. Then Bear said, "Did you just say 'customer service'...?"

I sighed. "Yeah, boss, I did. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf, you know? I may have been a little brusque with the kid...just a little...I thought maybe I should-"

"A little?"

He really wasn't making this easy. "All right, a lot!" I said.

Bear exhaled. Finally he answered. "Fine," he said, his voice dubious. He was having a hard time buying my story. "That would be a refreshingly new direction for you to take. I'll get the number."

He returned to the phone a few seconds later and read me the phone number. I wrote it down.

"Thanks, boss," I said.

"Yeah," he said. "Feel better. And Chey?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"If I find out this call isn't about customer service- if it's actually about, say, harassing one of my customers- then you don't need to return when you feel better. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, boss," I said. The line went dead a moment later.

Bear wasn't kidding around. I really had to handle this next bit right or I'd be stuck like this for good and unemployed to boot.

Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number. It rang several times before it was finally answered.

"Hello?" said a voice. It was the kid.

"Hey," I said, forcing myself to sound casual. "This is Chey, from Bear's Garage. The one who fixed your bike."

"Yes," he said. "I know who you are. Can I help you with something?"

"Uhh, I was just, umm, checking to make sure everything is working out. Is the bike okay? Any, umm, problems...?"

There was silence for a few seconds.

"No," he finally said. "Not really. About half a tank lower on gas than when I dropped it off, but everything is working fine."

Dammit. I had apparently been too drunk to remember to add gas when I took the bike back to the garage. Come to think of it, though, how the hell did I get it back to the garage? I couldn't remember.

"Hey, that's great!" I said. "So, maybe I could talk to your grandmother...?"

There was icy silence for several seconds. Then the kid said, "I don't think that's a good idea." Suspicion sounded clearly in his voice. "I'll tell her you called, though."

Panic knotted in my chest. I couldn't let it end like this.

"Please don't hang up," I said. "Could I please talk to your grandmother?"

There was silence as he weighed my request.

"Look," I said, desperate. I inadvertently licked my lips, causing myself to shudder with sudden intense arousal. "Just...could you just tell her I'm feeling...redder?"

Silence again. Then whispered conversation in the background. After a few moments, the phone was picked up again.

"Yes, Cheyenne?"

It was the grandmother.

"Umm...hello..." I said weakly.

"Yes, Cheyenne?" she repeated.

I sighed. There wasn't any point in talking in circles.

"I'm...I'm feeling...redder," I said. "Very, very much redder."

"Yes, I know," she said, sounding fucking smug.

I sighed. "You win, okay?" I said. "I'm sorry I took your necklace. I will pay whatever you think the necklace is worth."

"I am not interested in the money, Cheyenne," said the woman. "As I told your boss, the value is in the history. All I require is the return of the necklace. Bring it to me and the matter is concluded. We will then take steps to make you feel...better."

"I...I can't bring you the necklace," I said. "I don't know where it's at. I can only offer to pay for it."

"What?!" said the woman. "You mean it's lost?"

"No!" I said hastily. "Not lost! I just...I just don't know where it is exactly."

"I see," said the woman. "However, locating the necklace is your problem, Cheyenne, not mine. Do so, then contact me. We will speak at that time. Until then, you shall remain...redder."

The phone went dead.

Redder.

*****

So this was it. I had to find the stupid necklace if I was going to get out of this mess. The hunt was on.

First things first. I had to find out who actually had the necklace. I remembered- vaguely- using the necklace as collateral for a bet, but I had no idea who had won the hand.

I dialed a number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Beer Can," I said. "It's Chey."

"Yeah?"

"Hey, you remember that game the other night?"

"Yeah, I remember," he said. "I'm surprised you remember. You got wasted."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyway, you remember me betting a necklace?"

He was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, "Yeah, I think I do remember that."

Result. "Cool. Who won the hand?"

"Dagger, I think."

"Dagger? All right. I'll talk to her. Got her number?"

"She lost her cell phone a few days ago. Ain't got a new one yet."

Crap. "All right, Beer Can," I said. "Thanks."

Well, step one was completed at any rate. I had a start. I was going to have to ride out to Dagger's place to talk to her, though. I really didn't want to go out in public looking and feeling like this, but I didn't really have a choice. At least my motorcycle was working again.

*****

The working motorcycle turned out not to be such a blessing after all. The throbbing engine vibrated my boobs so much that I had about thirty orgasms on the way to Dagger's trailer park. By the time I got off the bike, I could barely walk.

"Holy shit," said Dagger, looking over my outfit as she let me into her trailer. "What the hell happened to you? You look hysterically vapid, but fucking hot as hell. And why do you smell like sex?"

This coming from a girl with an inch of roots showing in her bleached hair, while wearing tight leather pants and a cut-up concert tee-shirt.

"I'm just...expanding my horizons," I said, leaning against the table to support me. My knees were weak and, despite the multitude of orgasms I experienced on my way over here, I was so aroused, I could barely speak.

"I see," she said. She pressed up against me. "You look good, though. Hot. Did you get a boob job?" She reached out a hand and pressed against my firm, swollen breast.

My eyes widened. "No!" I said. "Don't touch...I mean...don't...I...ohhhhhh...!"

It was too late. The suddenness of Dagger pressing my sensitive boob had caught me by surprise. Just like that, I was wriggling under in explosive heat.

Dagger stared at me in surprise as I writhed. "Umm...Chey? I'm barely touching you. Are you...okay...?"

I tried to answer, but I moaned instead.

"Well, damn," she said. "That's...hot. No wonder you smell like sex."

I tried to stop her, but the feel of her hands squeezing my big boobs was too much. I bucked once, then twice. I was vaguely conscious of her leading me over to her bed and laying me down on my back, but only vaguely. At some point she pulled my top up and used to hold my arms over my head while she used her free hand on my bare boobs.

I was close. I was so close. Then she suddenly stopped.

"No!" I said, my voice strangled. Then suddenly I couldn't breathe.

"My turn," said Dagger.

Too late I realized she had stripped off her denim shorts and straddled my face. With one knee on each side of my head, she was stroking her pussy over my mouth.

"Mmmmmpppph!" I said. "Mmmmmppphhhhh!" But it didn't really matter what I said, because the sensations of her rubbing her pussy over my lush, sensitive lips were driving me wild with heat and need.

I started licking Dagger's button as it stroked itself over my lips. I couldn't help myself. The closer she got, the closer I got. And when Dagger finally started moaning and writhing on my face, her release triggered mine and I exploded into orgasm beneath her.

It was several minutes before I could finally speak again. I was blushing from head to toe.

"Umm...sorry..." I said.

Dagger shrugged. "Don't bother me none," she said. "Besides, you're a hot piece of ass."

Grrrrrr. A fucking trailer park wench was calling me a piece of ass. Grrrrrr.

"Whatever," I said. And then I asked her about the necklace.

"Yeah, I remember it," she said. "I did win that hand. I lost the necklace to Bottleneck Billy a couple hands later, though. He beat my three ladies with a full house. Bastard."

"So Billy has it?"

Dagger nodded, still floating in a post-orgasmic haze. "Yeah. Or at least he did."

I stood up, trying to gather my clothes and my dignity together. "All right," I said. "Thanks."

"No charge," she said. "Come by anytime. And bring that tongue with you."

Cheeks red, I got back on my bike and headed for Bottleneck Billy's place.

Redder.

*****

I pulled up in front of an older house. Billy's hog was parked out front.

Once again I had trouble walking. Riding a motorcycle in my condition was not a good idea. My knees were so weak from orgasms, I almost didn't make it to the door. I leaned against the door and pounded the best I could.

"Billy!" I said. "It's Chey!"

The door opened and I feel forward.

"Hey!" said Billy, leaning forward and trying to pull me to my feet. "You all right?"

"Yeah," I said, struggling to a chair. "Just need a minute...to catch...my breath."

He was a big guy- over six feet- with a thick handlebar mustache and weightlifter arms shown off by an old tank top. He got his nickname from the way he played guitar.

"Damn, Chey," he said, sitting in a chair next to me. "I didn't recognize you."

"Yeah," I said. "I've been getting that a lot."

"So what is it you need?"

"Look," I said, "do you remember winning a necklace the other night at the game?"

"Yeah," he said. "Sure do."

"Well, that was mine," I said. "I need it back."

"Oh," he said. "Damn."

"Damn?" I said. "Why damn?"

He shrugged. "'Damn' because I pawned it," he said. He shrugged again. "Needed some tires for the hog, y'know?"

I sighed. It just wasn't my day. I closed my eyes. "All right," I said. "Which pawn shop."

He told me. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. "Thanks."

I stood up to leave, but my knees were still weak and I wasn't used to walking in these stupid high heels. I tripped and dropped to my knees...directly in front of Billy. I fell forward, my hair spreading across his lap.

"Whoa," he said. "You okay?"

I tried to speak, but I couldn't. My hands were on his thighs and I could feel the muscles of his legs through the denim of his jeans. The bulge in his pants was right in front of me. It was...so close...I could actually smell him. A strong, masculine scent, making me heady. And my mouth felt...so...empty.

"Chey?" he said.

My hands slid up his thighs, over to his zipper. My long red fingernails slid over and pulled the zipper down. My fingers disappeared into his jeans and moments later pulled out his heavy cock.

Billy chuckled, a deep, masculine sound. "Well, now."

I had no idea what I was doing. I was a lesbian. I didn't suck cock. But all I could think about right then was wrapping my lips around that thick meat.

And I did. He hardened in my mouth and suddenly my bright red lips were wrapped tightly around his rod. My warm wet mouth slid up and down his shaft, his fat cockhead pressing deeper and deeper into my throat.

Oh, gawd. The sensations of his rock hard dick between my lush, swollen lips was making me crazy with heat and need. I moaned around his rod, which made him even harder. Then his fingers slid over my head as he grabbed my hair, holding my head in place as he suddenly exploded into my mouth.

My eyes widened as I was hit by the simultaneous sensations of a cock fucking my mouth and a hand grabbing my erogenous zone hair. I instinctively...helplessly...swallowed the flood of cum, the hot semen slowly filling my belly.

"Yeah...oh, fuck, yeah," said Billy, still grinding his cock into my mouth.

The sensations of his cum filling my belly triggered my own release and suddenly I was squealing around his cock.

"Nice," was all Billy said. He waited until I finished cumming like a slut before he finally pushed my head back.

I sat there blinking, still on my knees. Oh, gawd. I had...I had just blown a guy. I was a lesbian with a belly full of semen.

I struggled to my feet. I tried to say goodbye, but I inadvertently giggled.

Billy grinned, realizing I was trying to leave. "Hey, thanks," he said. "See ya. Good luck getting your necklace back."

Cheeks burning, I fled for my bike.

Redder.

*****

"That necklace?" said the pawn shop owner. "What the hell is it with that necklace? You're the second one today asking me about it. Yeah, I remember it. I just sold it, in fact."

"What?!" I screamed.

The guy shrugged. "I just sold it. Someone called this morning looking for a necklace like that. Billy waived his 30-day hold, so when the guy came in and offered to buy it, I said sure."

"Oh, gawd," I said, fanning my cheeks. I was still fucking horny. No amount of orgasms seemed able to make this arousal go away. I wanted to just sit on a fucking cock forever. "Look...I need to know where the guy who bought the necklace lives."

The guy shook his head. "I can't do that," he said. "It's bad for business."

"Please!" I said.

"Sorry," he said.

A stranger. I didn't know this guy. But I dropped to my knees in front of him.