FIVE PERCENT
by Nadie
Rosemary was so much larger than him that she could still handily overpower him.
Update: 15/06/1998 to misc4


The following story is not suitable for minors, as it contains sexually
explicit material.  Please send your comments (did you like it? hate it?
find typos?) to an304062@anon.penet.fi.


                              FIVE PERCENT

                                   by
                                  Nadie


The sounds of the ocean drifted in through the night air as Jim Biddings and
his wife, Rosemary, relaxed in their hotel room.  Or rather, she relaxed and
he tried to.  It was the first day of a much-needed month-long vacation, and
already something had gone wrong.  Prior to the trip, Jim had made
arrangements to ensure that they would get the best-located room in the
hotel.  After carefully going over the hotel plan, he had chosen it as
having the best balance between view of the ocean and convenient access to
hotel services.  But somebody in the hotel staff had screwed up, and given
the room to someone else.  So now they were in a clearly sub-optimal
location, five rooms away from the spot he had picked.

At least he had his weekly murder mystery.  It was one of the few television
shows he really liked, and, Hawaiian vacation or no, he was going to watch
it.  He enjoyed seeing if he could figure out whodunnit before the
characters on the screen did.  He thought he had this one just about figured
out, but there were still a few pieces of the puzzle he couldn't put
together.  He was listening intently as the characters discussed the latest
clues, when suddenly he was distracted by something wet and warm in his ear.

He jerked back as if poked with a needle, and looked at Rosemary.  She
was running her tongue over her lips and raising her eyebrows with her
best "come hither" look.  It could have been arousing on another woman.
On her he found it faintly absurd.  He glanced back at the television, but
he had missed the crucial revelation.  Damn!  She always picked the worst
possible time for these games.

"Why don't we find something more... entertaining to do?" she cooed.

Jim glanced at the television again, then sighed within himself.  He wasn't
going to be able to enjoy this program now, anyway.  It was ruined.  Without
those few crucial seconds he had missed, he was going to be playing catch-up
for the rest of the program.  "Sure, honey," he said, trying to smile as
he said it.  If he didn't give her what she wanted now, she would continue
to pester him until he did.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes and socks, as Rosemary
rummaged through her luggage for something.  She took out some candles, an
incense burner, a book, and a few other odds and ends.  The book was quite
old.  Rosemary lit the candles and the incense.  She opened the book,
studied it a moment, then began drawing some kind of a pattern on the carpet.

"What are you doing?" Jim yelped.  "They'll charge us an arm and a leg to
fix that carpet!"

"Relax," Rosemary replied.  "It's just chalk.  A vacuum cleaner will pick
it up."

"What is all this... stuff... about anyway?"  This was beginning to look
like some of the New Age nonsense that Rosemary obsessed about.  Or that
ancient Celtic stuff she was into.

Rosemary smiled coyly.  "You'll see.  You're going to like this.  Just take
your clothes off, then watch."

Jim dutifully took off his clothes, then sat on the edge of the bed to
watch her.  She stood in the center of the pattern she had drawn and began to
sing softly.  He could hear the words clearly, but couldn't understand them;
they seemed to be in some foreign language.  Then she began to rock back and
forth as she sang, swinging her hips.  Slowly, a bit at a time, she began
to remove her clothes as she danced.

Jim suddenly realized that this was meant to be an erotic dance.  So
that's what she was up to.  She was trying to get him in the mood.  And if
she were thirty pounds lighter or so, it would have worked.

Look at her, and look at me, he thought.  He prided himself on his youthful
looks and solid build.  Although 40 years old, people often mistook him for
30.  At 6 feet even he was comfortably tall, and every inch of him was
covered with solid muscle.  It wasn't hard to figure out why Rosemary wanted
to get him in bed.  It was harder to figure out what had happened to her.
Though 39 years old, she looked 45.  And his cute, pert bride -- 5 foot 2
inches of lithe, supple woman -- had ballooned out to 160 pounds.  Over the
years he had warned her that she needed to control her eating habits, that
she was just going to get fatter and fatter if she didn't.  But she never
listened to him.  She never listened to any of his helpful suggestions on
how she could improve her appearance.

He suddenly realized that she had stopped her dance.  In fact, he had the
impression she had stopped some time ago.  Rosemary stood naked before him,
one tear trickling down her face.  "You weren't paying any attention at all
to me.  You didn't even see me here in front of you," she whispered.

"Of course I saw you; as big as you are, how could anyone possibly miss you?"
he snapped.  The words escaped without thought, and although he hadn't meant
to be so harsh, he decided they were words she needed to hear.  Rosemary's
eyes went wide, then she grabbed a bathrobe and ran to the bathroom,
sobbing.

The sound of her crying was like a jackhammer to his head.  He couldn't
take this anymore.  He couldn't hide his distaste for her bloated body.
He had to leave.  He put his shoes back on, put on a light jacket, and
walked out into the night.

He found the car and drove around for a while, wondering what to do.
Finally, he pulled into a cheap motel far from the beach, and rented a
room.  In another twenty minutes he was lying in bed, tossing fitfully.  How
he yearned to have back the thin, pretty young woman he had married.  It
wasn't fair.  He had kept himself in good shape, but she had let herself go
to pieces.  "What I wouldn't do to have my slender, young, beautiful wife
again," he whispered.  "I'd do just about anything."  And with that thought
rolling around his mind, he finally drifted off to sleep.

                                #  #  #

"Good morning," a sultry feminine voice said.  He smiled.  Rosemary used to
have a sexy voice like that.  She used to be able to get him hard just
whispering naughty things in his ear.  But that was fifteen years ago.

Suddenly Jim remembered where he was.  His eyes popped open and he sat up.
There before him, wearing nothing but skin, was an achingly beautiful
woman.  Blue-black hair cascaded down to her waist.  Her skin was a
delightful coffee color, a perfect shade of brown that he had only seen once
or twice before in his life, smooth and without blemish.  Her figure had
amazingly deep curves in all the right places.  Her breasts were enormous
twin mounds that seemed to float weightlessly.  He found that he was holding
his breath, afraid that she would disappear if he made any movement.

She walked -- no, she undulated -- over to him and took his right hand.  She
slid a curious silvery ring onto his ring finger, then kissed his hand.  The
touch of her full, warm lips on his skin sent electric quivers through his
body.  Then she spoke.

"I am granting your wish.  This ring contains powerful magic.  With it you
can transform Rosemary into the woman you truly desire.  If you are willing
to pay the price."

He was speechless for a moment.  "What price?" he finally blurted out.

"The ring is activated by pressing this jewel."  She indicated a small,
green stone on the ring.  "You must then imagine how you wish to change
Rosemary.  Each separate use of the ring can effect only a limited
transformation.  If your request is within the limits, this jewel will
glow."  She indicated a yellow stone next to the green one.  "The
transformation will take effect when you press the glowing jewel.  The price
will be exacted from you automatically."  She turned to leave.

"What price?" he repeated.  "What is the price I must pay?"

The woman looked back over her shoulder.  "Five percent," she said.
Then she faded from sight.

Jim rubbed his eyes and looked at the spot where the woman had been.
Was this how a mental breakdown started?  You start hallucinating fantasies?
But then he realized what was happening.  He must have awakened just as
a rather pleasantly erotic dream came to an end.  Perhaps he sat up in
his sleep, and that had wakened him.  Feeling reassured, he got out of
bed.

There was the silvery ring on his hand, with the two colored gems.  He
felt it.  It seemed real.  He tried to take it off, but it seemed stuck.
Worried, he tugged harder.  It didn't seem to be on tight at all, but
it absolutely refused to come off.  Finally he gave up and left it where
it was.

After showering and dressing, he got in the car and headed back to the
hotel.  He was filled with both dread and anticipation.  Dread at having
to face Rosemary after last night's spat.  Anticipation at the thought
of... no, that was silly.  Rosemary's New Age nonsense was getting to him.
She might believe in all manner of mysticism, but he was a thoroughly
rational man.  Nevertheless, his thoughts kept drifting back to the ring,
the woman, and what she had told him.  "I am granting your wish."  He tried
to concentrate on driving.  The last thing he needed now was to get into
an accident because he was daydreaming.  But he could not shake from his
mind the image of the mysterious, beautiful woman, the feel of her lips on
his skin, nor the succulent sound of her voice as she promised to grant his
wish.

He parked the car and made his way to their hotel room.  Just outside the
door he stopped, fingering the ring.  He felt pretty foolish about all
this.  It was probably all some elaborate practical joke someone was playing
on him.  But he had to give it a try.  He pressed the green stone, then
imagined Rosemary the way she had been when they married.  He felt an
anticipatory tingling in his groin at the thought.  Then he looked at the
ring.  The yellow stone was definitely NOT glowing.

He damned himself for a fool.  Of course it wasn't glowing.  There was no
such thing as magic.  He felt the heat of embarrassment rise in his cheeks.

But wait a minute.  The woman had said that each use of the ring could only
make a limited change.  All right, he would experiment a bit more before
giving up.  The thing that most bothered him was Rosemary's obesity, so he
would imagine her thin again, but otherwise unchanged.  Still the ring
remained inert.  Okay, how about not so fat?  He tried imagining her in
various degrees of slimness.  The yellow stone finally glowed when he
imagined an almost imperceptible thinning.

This was no good.  At this rate he'd have to use the ring dozens of times to
get her thin again.  Was he missing something?  Suddenly an old joke popped
into his head.  "I'm not overweight," the joke went.  "I'm just undertall."
He tried imagining her as having the same overall size and weight, but
stretched out, so she was taller and thinner.  The yellow stone glowed.
With growing excitement, he stretched her out more in his mind.  His mental
image of her grew taller and thinner, and the stone continued to glow.
Finally, in his imagination she stood eye-to-eye with him, and her weight
was perfect.  She was neither bony nor pudgy.  He reached to press the
glowing yellow stone.

He hesitated with his finger just above the stone.  What about the price?
What did "five percent" mean?  Five percent of his wealth?  He would pay
that gladly.  He pressed the stone, and heard a soft click.

The world seemed to go out of focus for a moment, then all was back to
normal.  But not quite.  Something was... odd.  He couldn't quite place
it.  Or maybe he was just nervous.  With mounting excitement, he took
out his room key and put it in the lock.  Only he missed, hitting the
door knob just below the keyhole.  Calm down, boy, he told himself.  His
hands were shaking a bit as he carefully inserted the key into the lock.
He opened the door and stepped inside.  "Rosemary?" he called.

"Did you find your newspaper?" she called from the bathroom.  His heart was
pounding.  Her voice was sweet and sultry, like when they were newlyweds.
Though come to think of it... it had always been like that, hadn't it?  It
just hadn't seemed sexy coming from a fat woman.  He heard her walk across
the bathroom to the door, and he was certain he could hear a difference in
her step -- these were the steps of a woman with long, slender legs.  His
pants were feeling tight.  Then she emerged from the bathroom, and it was
true!  She was tall and thin.  Sure, she still looked 45 years old, but it
was a slender 45.  She glanced down at his crotch, then smiled slyly.
"My, my, you couldn't even stay away from me long enough to get your
paper."  She approached him slowly, her hips rocking back and forth.

To his surprise, Jim found that he was looking up into her face as she slid
her arms around him, even though she was wearing flats.  Her lips were about
eye-level to him when he looked straight ahead.  She lowered her mouth to
his and gave him a slow, passionate kiss that set his ears burning.  Then
she turned away and, holding his hand, walked to the bed.  He followed
willingly.  He could figure out this height thing later.

                                  #  #  #

Jim lay on the bed next to Rosemary, luxuriating in a feeling of contentment
that he hadn't experienced in years.  This time his wife's strip-tease had
been worth watching.  And it had only gotten better after that.  Spent after
two hours of fun and games, he simply lay there slowly running his hands
up and down her marvelous new body.  It was so nice and firm to the touch.
And those legs!  They seemed to go on forever.  He had never thought tall
women particularly interesting before, but that had changed in the last
two hours.

Rosemary hadn't said anything about her transformation, nor about their
upset the previous night.  He decided to ask her about the former.  "Tell me,
honey," he said.  "What do you think of the new you?"

She frowned in puzzlement.  "The new me?  What are you talking about?"

"You haven't noticed anything... odd, or unusual?"

"Well sure, it was a little odd to have you go out to get the morning paper,
then suddenly forget about that and run back to jump in the sack with me,"
she grinned.  "But it's the kind of odd a woman could get used to."
After more conversation he could find no evidence that she remembered last
night's fight, either.

When Rosemary left to make some purchases at the hotel's gift shop, Jim
stayed in the room to check out a few things.  First he marked his height on
the wall and measured it.  He stared at the numbers for a long time.  He was
about 5 feet, 8-1/2 inches.  3-1/2 inches shorter than his own previous
height and his wife's present height.  "Five percent."  The words echoed in
his mind.  He did a quick mental calculation.  6 feet was 72 inches, and
five percent of that was... 3.6 inches.

He checked himself in the mirror.  He looked the same as before in every way
that he could see.  He still had the same youthful looks and solid build.
His proportions hadn't changed noticeably.  He weighed himself on the
bathroom scale, then got out a calculator.  Yes, his present weight was 0.95
times 0.95 times 0.95 times his previous weight.  So that was it.  He had
been reduced by five percent in every dimension.  That was the price.

Poking around in the closet, he made another discovery.  All of his wife's
clothes were different.  They were all appropriate to her new figure, not
her old.  And her shoes... they were bigger, too.  They all had flat heels,
with the exception of one pair that didn't look like it had been used much.

On a hunch, he pulled out his drivers license.  It said he was 5 foot 9.  A
slight exaggeration.  Rosemary had brought their wedding album -- she had
always been the sentimental sort, and had wanted this vacation to be a sort
of second honeymoon -- and Jim thumbed through the pictures.  She stood
quite a bit taller than him in all the pictures.  He remembered that she had
insisted on wearing high heels that day.  "This is a special, unique moment
in a woman's life," she had explained.  "It's my time in the spotlight, and
I want to look my best."  And she did.  She was absolutely stunning in her
close-fitting bridal gown and five-inch heels, though he felt a bit
intimidated by the way she towered over him.

Wait a minute!  What was going on?  Rosemary had been a petite 5 foot 2
when they married.  It was just now that she had changed.  And yet the
memories of her towering over him as they danced at the wedding reception
were clear.  He remembered looking up, not down, into her eyes as he asked
her to marry him.

He flipped back through another photo album with pictures from their
courtship.  Rosemary had been a gymnast in college, before they were married.
And he had taken pictures of her in practice and in competition.  Gymnastics
was not a sport for tall women.  She couldn't possibly be tall in those
pictures.

There were no pictures of Rosemary doing gymnastics.  But there was something
else.  He stared.  The pictures showed Rosemary playing women's basketball.
Slowly he closed the photo album and put it away.

This was getting scary.  What was happening to him?  He felt that his grip
on reality was slipping.  Where had he ever gotten the notion that he was
ten inches taller than Rosemary when they married?  For a few minutes
there he had been certain of it.  But the truth was that he had always
been shorter than her, from the first day they met.  Sure, he had often
wished he was taller than her.  But when had he started confusing fantasy
and reality?

He found the whole episode quite disturbing.  The best thing to do, perhaps,
was to just to put it aside and forget about his daydreams of being tall.  He
resolved to do that.

                                #   #   #

She looked ten years older than him.  At least.

Jim frowned at the couple dining at the table next over, then glanced back
at Rosemary.  The other woman had smooth, unblemished skin, and eyes that
danced.  Rosemary's eyes displayed prominent crow's feet, and the rest of
her face looked severe and weatherbeaten compared to that of the other
woman.  Streaks of grey were all through Rosemary's hair.  The woman's
husband was at least as old as Jim, but his wife looked a good 15 or 20 years
younger than Rosemary.  All through dinner he found himself comparing the
two.

Later that night, as he was brushing his teeth, Rosemary walked into the
bathroom wearing a semitransparent nightgown with nothing underneath.  She
smiled.  "Isn't it your bedtime?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

He smiled back, although it was a little forced.  "I'll be right with you.
Warm up the bed, why don't you?"  She nodded, blew him a kiss, and returned
to the bedroom.

He looked at the ring on his right hand.  His memory of how he had got it
was a bit vague, like a pleasant dream.  If it weren't for the physical
evidence of the ring on his finger, he would probably have decided that the
stunning woman who had put it there was just a wet dream.  The image of her
filled his mind.  There hadn't been a wrinkle or harsh spot on that face,
not a gray hair on that head.  Maybe Rosemary could be that young again.  If
he was willing to pay the price.

Five percent.  That would bring his height to... five-foot five.  About
3-1/2 inches shorter than his present height.  That might not be too much to
pay to have a young wife again.  He had been thinking about using the ring
ever since he had received it; maybe now was the time to gather his courage
and just do it.

He made up his mind.  He pressed the green stone, and began imagining a
younger Rosemary.  The yellow stone glowed.  He rolled the years back, until
she looked barely old enough to be entering college.  Still it glowed.  This
was the Rosemary he had first met, vibrant with youth and optimism.

How much further could he take this?  She was pretty, there was no doubt of
that.  Could she be beautiful, jaw-dropping, achingly beautiful, like his
mystery woman?  He tried to imagine it, and suddenly the yellow stone winked
out.  He returned to the earlier image, and the stone glowed again.  All
right, so young and pretty would have to be enough.  He pressed the yellow
stone.

The world blurred, then resolidified.  He looked about him.  Had there been
a change?  Maybe.  He walked to the bedroom.

She arose from the bed and met him near the door.  The light from the
bathroom spilled over her face and drew a small gasp from him.  It was
true!  Her face shone with youth and health.  Her skin was smooth and
silky.  Her hands... they slipped behind his head and she pressed his face
into her body.  Her shoulders were just below eye-level to him, and his lips
touched the soft skin above her breasts.  He twisted his head to look up
into that radiantly youthful face, and she flashed a brilliant smile at
him.  She held him tightly for a moment, then leaned him backwards as she
bent over to kiss him.

When she was done she said, "You wear too many clothes," and began stripping
him.  Her hands were quick and eager, and surprisingly strong, as she pulled
the clothes off of him.  Bemused, he neither cooperated nor resisted.  Then
she took both of his hands in hers and led him to the bed.

Afterwards, he was some time in catching his breath.  She was so energetic
now!  It had been like a combination wrestling match and contortionist
act.  He hadn't felt so alive in years.

He let his hand run over her lithesome figuring, exploring the curves of her
body.  She giggled as his hand approached her crotch and gently but firmly
pushed it away.  "It's been a long, exciting day.  Much as I'd like to go
another round with you, I really do need some sleep."

Jim was still awake after she had fallen asleep.  Just what had changed?
He got up and pulled out the wedding album, taking it to the bathroom to
look at it there.  He examined the pictures closely.  They both looked
about the same as they looked now.  But he had been much younger when they
married, hadn't he?  He picked up the photo album, and a paper fell out.
He picked it up.  It was their wedding certificate.  It was dated seven
months ago.

Seven months?  But they had been married sixteen years!  Wait, no that was
ridiculous, she would have been only three back then...  He was confused.
Was Rosemary 19 years old or 39 years old?  He found her purse and pulled
out her driver's license.  He found the birth date given on it.  Yes, she
was 19.  They had met a year ago, just as she was starting college; she had
been playing women's basketball and he happened to attend one of the games.
It had been something of a whirlwind romance, and they had married within a
few months.  Once this Hawaiian Christmas vacation was over she would be
going back to classes, studying business.

Satisfied that the world was right again, he returned to bed.

                                 #  #  #

Jim had a hard time pulling his eyes off the woman as she walked past.
Fortunately, Rosemary wasn't there to see him goggling.  The woman was
wearing a bikini that she didn't quite fit into.  Or at least, her bust
didn't quite fit into it.  His eyes were riveted to her magnificent bosom as
she moved on down the beach.  Finally she passed behind the restrooms, and
he couldn't see her anymore.

He turned his gaze back out to the ocean and sighed.  He wished Rosemary
could fill a bikini like that.  She was young, and thin, and pretty... but
her cups didn't exactly overflow.  Her breasts were... cute; pretty; nice.

He wanted more.

For fifteen minutes he lay there in the sun, watching the waves, watching
the seagulls, watching the children making sandcastles, looking anyplace
except the one place he was afraid to look.  Finally he checked the time --
and cursed his quirks.  He kept his watch on his right arm, rather than the
left, on the inside of his wrist.  Just a few inches up from the watch, on
one finger, was the thing he had been avoiding.  The silvery ring.

He was going to get rid of it.  He was going to throw it into the ocean and
forget about it forever.  He was already on the short side, and he didn't
want to be any shorter.  He tugged at the ring.  It stayed firmly in place.
He tugged some more, until the skin hurt, but still it would not budge.
Involuntarily, an image of Rosemary with large, ample breasts sprang into
his mind.  Oh, hell, even if they were THIS large -- he imagined a somewhat
smaller bust that was still significantly larger than what she had -- he
would be happy.  But he had to put that out of his mind.  He grabbed the
ring and tugged again.  Too late, he noticed something.

The yellow stone was glowing.  And his finger was pressing it.

There was a soft click.  The world blurred, then refocused.  He slapped his
forehead.  Of all the stupid moves...  How had the ring been activated in
the first place?  He guessed that he must have accidentally pressed the
green stone when he first tried to remove the ring.

So now he had shrunk by five percent.  That would leave him just an inch
and a half past the five-foot mark.  He had never thought of himself as
a small man before -- just a little on the short side, was all -- but now
that was the only word for it.  He was SMALL.

He stood up.  At least he still had his muscular build.  Suddenly he was
knocked to the ground.  Brushing sand out of his face, he looked up.  Five
or six teenage girls clustered around him.  "I'm sorry," one of them
said, holding out her hand to help him up.

He refused her hand, and stood up himself.  She couldn't be more than
sixteen, yet she stood a good seven or eight inches higher than him.  He
glanced around.  None of the girls looked older than sixteen.  And he was
shorter than every one of them.

"Here, let me brush that sand off of you," said the girl.  Before he could
object, she was moving her hands over him, brushing at bits of sand that
were mostly imaginary.  "There, all done," she said, patting his bottom
and squeezing it for just an instant.  Then she ran away giggling with her
friends.

Jim watched them go, face red with embarrassment.  Well, at least there was
a positive side to all this.  Rosemary's bust line should have swelled out
nicely.  He decided to head back to their hotel room to see if she was back
from her shopping trip yet.

He was just about to put the key in the door when he paused.  There was some
noise coming from inside.  Some of it was giggling.  Some of it was...
panting.  And then a deep bass voice murmuring something.

Teeth clenched grimly, Jim unlocked the door and threw it open.  Rosemary
was naked on the bed, intertwined with a naked man Jim did not know.  A very
big man.

"Get... out!" he shouted.  Rosemary froze, then blushed guiltily as she saw
him standing there.  The big man casually rolled to one side and looked up
at Jim without breaking much of his contact with Rosemary's body.

"You must be Jim," the man said.  "Rosemary's told me about you.  Don't
worry, she still likes you.  You're a nice appetizer, so to speak.  But
she wanted to have the main course for once."

"You'd better go," Rosemary murmured to the man.

He shrugged, and got up.  With elaborate casualness he slowly dressed
himself.  "See you again sometime," he called over his shoulder to Rosemary
as he left the room.

Jim's teeth ached, his jaws were clenched so tight.  He slammed the door
shut behind him, and stomped over to the bed.  Rosemary lay there, looking
both simultaneously embarrassed, a bit guilty, and irritated.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she said.  "You were always such a charming romancer,
you swept me off my feet when we met -- so to speak -- but I think," and
here she paused and chose her words carefully, "I think we were a bit
hasty in getting married."

His eyes widened, and she hurriedly continued.  "You're a wonderful man,
and I love you dearly, but...  How do I say this?  You're small.  I didn't
think that would bother me at first, and it didn't.  But as time passed,
I came to realize that what I really want, what I NEED, is someone bigger
than me, someone who can make me feel protected."

Jim's face, ears and neck were hot and red, and it wasn't from sunburn.
His eyes caught on her breasts.  She was lying there naked, and her breasts
rose up beautifully from her chest.  He longed to touch them.

He was going to touch them.  He pulled off his shirt with one fluid motion,
then clambered onto the bed and atop of Rosemary.  He pushed her arms out
of the way and thrust his face into her bosom.

"Stop it, Jim!  Get off of me!"  Her voice was no longer apologetic; it
was angry.  "That does it!"

The world spun round, and he was flat on his back with Rosemary above him.
She grabbed his arms and pinned them above his head.  She held his legs
pinned beneath her body.  "I'm going to hold you here until you calm
yourself down," she said.

He twisted and strained, but he could not break loose of her grip.  Her
wonderful breasts hung down as she leaned over him, and the sight
intoxicated him.  It was torture, to have her displayed for him like this,
and know that he could not have her, that he had lost her.  He wanted those
breasts.  He wanted that body.  He wanted her to want him.

The solution was suddenly obvious.  Even with his hands pinned over his
head, his left hand could still reach the ring on his right.  He felt for
the green stone, and pressed it.  Then he imagined how he wanted her
to be.  Consumed with desire for his body.  Filled with a raging, wild
lust for him and him only.  Desperate for a sexual release that only he
could provide.

He couldn't see if the yellow stone was glowing, but he pressed it anyway.
The world blurred, then refocused.

Rosemary let out a long, low groan, then lowered herself down on top of
him.  She pressed her breasts into his face, and stretched her body out over
him, her feet reaching just past his feet.  She began moving back and forth,
with each movement bearing down on his face with her breasts and moaning
with pleasure.  Still using one hand to keep his arms pinned above his
head, she reached down with the other hand and squeezed his jaw.  "Open
your mouth," she commanded.  He did so, and immediately she inserted one
breast into it and pushed down hard, pushing as much of it into his mouth
as she could.  "Suck," was all she said.

After she was done with him, Jim lay by her side, feeling a bit sore and
overwhelmed, but very content.  He just hoped she would let him go back to
work when the vacation was over.

                                #  #  #

The door to their room swung inward, with Jim and Rosemary seemingly
attached, as Jim tried to get the key out of the lock over the interference
of Rosemary's caresses and kisses.  Finally he got the key out and closed
the door behind them.

They were all dressed up, having gone out for an evening of dining and
dancing.  Rosemary had insisted on wearing her five-inch heels.  Even
without the heels, Jim was only shoulder-height to her.  In bare feet they
stood eye-to-nipple, and Jim could put his arms around her waist without
hardly lowering them at all.  With Rosemary in heels now, Jim had to raise
his arms to wrap them around her waist, and the top of his head reached no
further than the middle of her bust.

They danced a quiet, slow dance like that, humming the music to each other,
Jim's face against Rosemary's flat, firm belly, the bottoms of her breasts
brushing against his temple.  Her arms tightened around him and pressed
him into her body with an irresistible grip.  The entire night had been
like that, and although they had attracted more than a few odd looks from
people, it had been heavenly.  It had been a long day, though, and
he was looking forward to a good rest.

>From the day they first met, their relationship had been hot and intense.
At the time, Jim was dating a petite latin woman (who was nonetheless two
inches taller than he).  Out of curiosity, one evening he attended a women's
college basketball game.  Rosemary caught him watching her as the game
ended, and before he knew it she was at his side.

"Would you like to go out for a late snack?" she had asked.

"Um, well, I think --"

"Great! Let's go!"

She grabbed his arm and practically dragged him out of the building
and over to her car.  "If you don't mind, I'd like to stop by my apartment
for a quick shower and change of clothes first," she said.

When the door closed behind them in her apartment she suddenly grabbed
him, lifted him a foot into the air, and kissed him so hard and passionately
that he thought she was going to take off his face.  Her arms wrapped so
tightly around him he could hardly breathe.  After a timeless period
she opened her eyes, smiled a mischievous grin at him, walked over to
the couch and set him down on it.  "I won't be more than five minutes,"
she said.

When she emerged from the shower she seemed to shine.  She wasn't wearing
a stitch of clothing, not even a ring.  She adjusted the sofa, and it
folded out into a bed.

"Uh, you know, I have a girlfriend already," he stammered.

"I know," she replied.  "I'm your girlfriend."  She sat on his legs, pinning
him to the bed, as she proceeded to take off his shirt.

"Now wait a minute, you can't just --"

"Oh, hush now," she said, then she leaned forward and silenced him with
a kiss as she finished removing his shirt.  Then she turned around and
sat on his chest as she removed the shoes, socks and pants.  He struggled,
but was unable to escape.  She removed his last article of clothing --
his boxer shorts -- and suddenly froze.

"Oh, my," she said.  She turned her head over her shoulder to look at
him, eyes wide.  "You're not so little after all."  She turned back to
stare between his legs.  "That looks like it belongs on a much bigger man."
Much to his chagrin, he found that he had a strong erection.  She reached
out to touch it.  "Tonight it belongs to me."

They never did go out for that late snack.  And he never saw his latin
girlfriend again.

In the morning she drove him over to his apartment so he could dress for
work.  Somehow she ended up with a copy of his apartment key.  When he
returned home that evening his closets and dresser were empty, as was
the bathroom cabinet.  A note was taped to the wall.  "I got started
moving your stuff into my place.  We can work on it some more this
evening."

>From that point on, it had been like a wild roller-coaster ride; all he
could do was hold on for dear life.  Rosemary was an untamed, irresistable
primeval force.  They visited Reno together one weekend.  Jim didn't realize
they were getting married until an hour before the ceremony.  And yet Jim
didn't feel like he was being pressured into anything he didn't want.  He
would never have thought that a tall and attractive woman like Rosemary
would be interested in a man as small as he was.  He wasn't about to
question his good fortune.  And her frank and uninhibited passion for him
intensified his own reactions to her, igniting his desire for her to almost
unbearable levels.

Amazingly enough, after a year Rosemary was still just as hungry for him as
ever.  Their evening of dinner and dance had included a several urgent
excursions into the bushes outside the club.  And now as they slow danced
together in their living room, her body swaying and sliding against him, her
breasts rubbing his temple, he knew she intended to have him again.  He
hoped he wouldn't disappoint her.

She ran her hands over his well-muscled arms and shoulders.  He was well-
built for his size.  But Rosemary was so much larger than him that she
could still handily overpower him.  She lifted him up and began kissing
his arms, shoulders and chest.  "My hard little man," she sighed.  "There's
just one part of you that's gone soft.  Let's see what we can do about that."
She carried him to their room and laid him on the bed.

A frustrating half-hour later, he was still limp.  "I'm sorry, honey," he
said miserably.  "We've had a busy evening after a busy day.  I'm just worn
out.  And," he smiled, "I don't exactly get a lot of sleep, you know."

"No, don't tell me that.  You can do it, I know you can."  She mounted
him and pressed her groin urgently against his, rocking and swaying and
thrusting frantically, to no avail.

"You're hurting me," he complained.

She yanked him down and slid herself forward, until she crouched with
his head pinned between her legs and his face pressed into her crotch.
"Then release me this way," she demanded.

By the time she was done with him his neck and face were sore, too.  He used
to like these kinds of games, but lately they had turned rough and angry as
she vented her frustrations on him.  He felt dejected, depressed and
demoralized.  He hadn't been able to give her what she wanted and needed
tonight.  It wasn't the first time.  He had hoped it wouldn't happen during
their vacation.  And he knew from experience that as he worried about it, it
would just get worse.  He was terribly frightened that she would eventually
get so fed up with his deficiencies that she would leave him.

He rubbed the ring.  He hadn't used it yet, and now he was the one who
needed modification.  What would it be like to have endless potency, he
wondered.  Wouldn't she be delighted if she could summon an erection from
him at any...  Wait a minute.  Was this a loophole?  If SHE could summon an
erection from him...  That would be her ability, not his.

He pressed the green stone, and thought of what he wanted.  He imagined
Rosemary having the ability to call forth an erection from him at will ---
any place, any time, as often as desired.  To his delight, the yellow
gem glowed.  He pressed it, and heard a soft click.

The world blurred, then came back into focus.  Rosemary loomed over him, a
happy grin on her face.  He felt like he had a steel cylinder projecting
from between his legs.  "Mr. Eveready is back to work in record time," she
remarked.  She lowered herself onto him with a little gasp of pleasure.

At 5:00 a.m. she finally collapsed from exhaustion, falling asleep on
top of him.  Jim wondered if he would ever walk again.

                            #  #  #

The next time it was her breasts, again.  Rosemary had ample breasts, to
be sure; but as he stared at the photo of Dolly Parton gracing the cover
of TV guide, Jim realized that so much more was possible.

But he was a very small man already, barely four-foot eight.  He didn't
dare use the ring.  Yet he could not erase from his mind the image of
Parton's breath-taking bust.  It would only take a few button-pushes,
is all...

Rosemary was just about to undress for bed when Jim finally gave in.  He
imagined her with breasts even larger than Parton's, and noted with glee
that the yellow gem glowed.

Click.

The world blurred, and when it refocused he was delighted at what he
saw.  Her blouse seemed to strain at every seam to contain her bust.
He wondered whether she would be able to finish unbuttoning the blouse
before the buttons popped off by themselves.  She smiled as she watched
him watching her, and the blouse slid to the floor.  She reached behind
her to undo the bra, and pulled it off with one fluid motion.

Jim watched in dismay as her wonderfully enormous breasts, which had stood
so proudly with the support of her bra, now sagged almost to her waist.
He realized that they were simply too large and heavy to do otherwise.
But wait!  That could be fixed!  He imagined some interior structural
changes, what amounted to an internal bra lying under her skin, holding
and supporting her breasts, so that they appeared to defy gravity.

Click.

She dropped her skirt and began to walk over to him, a smile playing across
her lips.  Her naked breasts were simply stunning.  But he realized that
behind her smile there was pain, and she walked with an unattractive stoop.
It was clear that she had serious back problems, evidently from the weight
of her breasts.  This wasn't what he had wanted!  He imagined a strengthened
spine and back muscles to support the extra weight.

Click.

He tore off his close as she reached him, and he gasped at the size of her.
Trembling, he reached up his hands to caress her marvelous bosom.

Still not right!  Her breasts were cold; he liked them toasty warm.  They
were never this cold before; so why now...  Of course.  He had given her
bigger breasts, but had failed to increase the blood flow to them.  They
just didn't have enough circulation to keep them warm.  One more time, he
imagined the necessary changes.

Click.

And now they were just right.  He reached up and ran his hands over the
wonderful mounds of woman-flesh, but though he stood on tip-toe he could not
get his face high enough to kiss them.  Grinning mischievously, Rosemary
backed away; he followed.  She slipped into her high heels, and her breasts
rose out of his reach.  He strained to touch them, but even on tip-toe his
fingertips barely reached her nipples.

She watched his futile efforts for a while with a grin, then began to
laugh.  She engulfed each of his hands in one of hers and forced them to his
sides.  "We do things my way, little man," she said.  One hand pressed
against the back of his head and pulled his face tight against her.  With
the heels on, her crotch was just at the level of his mouth.  She lifted
one leg and stroked his sides with her calf, then the leg tightened around
him and she pressed his face more insistently into her crotch.  "Pleasure
me," she commanded.

She was slow in coming, but when she did she came so hard that he was
afraid she would crack his ribs.  Afterwards she looked down at him,
and smiled.

"Good boy!  You remembered everything I've told you about pleasuring me.
Now I'm going to use you in a way you might enjoy more."  Her hands came
flowing down over his body, until they reached his waist.  He was only
half erect at the moment, but suddenly he felt as if his penis would ring
if it were tapped with a hammer.  Then she lifted him up and buried his face
in her breasts while she pumped him in and out...

                               #  #  #

Of course, the optimal, the most beautiful skin color was a particular
shade of brown that he had only seen in certain Koreans.

Click.

And he thought green eyes -- with yellow-brown centers -- were terribly
sexy.  No other eye color would do.

Click.

Blue-black hair going down to the waist, with just enough of a curl to it to
make it interesting: that's what she needed!

Click.

Her waist should be thinner, of course, to emphasize even more her wonderful
bust and hypnotic hips.

Click...

                              #  #  #

Rosemary was perfect.

There was no doubt about that.  From the top of her exquisitely shaped head
to the tips of her elegant toes, there was not the slightest aspect of her
being that could be improved.  Surely, Jim thought, such a marvelous creature
had never existed before in the history of the world.

She stood above him in her naked glory and smiled down at him.  He in turn
didn't quite come up to her knee.  He was one of the last of the Little
People, as the Irish called them, descended from ancestors who had stowed
away on human boats.

"You are a beautiful little creature, Dick," she said.  Dick was not his
real name, but it was the one she had given him.  She crooked a finger,
and he felt suddenly light-headed.  From between his legs arose his
enormous rod, a third as long as he himself was.  His heart pounded with
the effort to produce the blood pressure to make it erect.  It did so
quite effectively, drawing the blood from the rest of his body -- including
his head.  His vision swam.  This was the curse that had been placed on
him for his arrogant treatment of one of his own people's women.  His
member was simply to large to be used.

Except that it was just to right size to fit a human woman.  Mistress
Rosemary had captured him one day as she wandered the forest.  It hadn't
been difficult.  He had stood there dumbly, paralyzed by her magnificence
and beauty, as she simply walked up to him and and grabbed him.  Upon
removing his baggy clothes she had discovered his curse, and her own ability
to make it rise at will.  Since then she had never let him wear clothes
again, and had kept him as her captive plaything.

Now she crouched before him, wrapped one hand around his waist, and picked
him up.  Standing up again, she touched the silvery ring he wore on his right
hand.  "You won't be needing this anymore," she said.  "I'll take it back
now."

She removed the ring, and it expanded four-fold in every dimension, to a
size appropriate for an adult human finger.  Suddenly the curtains dropped
from his mind.  He was Jim Biddings.  A month ago he had been a normal human
being, six feet tall.  He remembered receiving the ring and the price
associated with its use, and was horrified.  How could he have let things
get so out of hand?

And suddenly he realized another thing.  Rosemary was now identical to the
woman who had given him the ring.

She smiled as she saw the realization dawning on his face.  "Yes, I gave
you the ring," she said.  "I've been studying magic for some time now.  I
tried to tell you many times, but you would never listen.  And that night
when I was drawing chalk lines on the floor and dancing for you -- I was
weaving the spell to make myself look like this."

She ran a finger down his rigid penis.  "Oh, how I wanted you.  You can't
imagine how badly I wanted you, day after day, year after year.  But you
never seemed to want me as much.  You denied me your body.  I was never
good enough for you.  After a while, I stopped trying to meet your standards.

"But then I finally found the way of being everything you could possibly
want.  This was going to be my present to you, Dick," she gestured at her
body with her free hand, "you were going to have the wife of your dreams,
and it wasn't going to cost you anything.

"But you turned me down, humiliated me, and left me alone to cry my heart
out.  So I decided that you would have to pay for every improvement.  I
wanted to see just how hard to please you were, how far you would go."
She ran her eyes up and down his tiny body.  "You surprised even me."

She sat down and held him in her lap with one hand while the other stroked
him.  "So what do I do with you now, Dick?"

"Restore me back to normal, of course," he said.  "What else?  And why are
you calling me Dick?  That's not my name."

She laughed.  "Of course it's not your name.  It's your function.  And truth
be told... I rather enjoy you like this.  For fifteen years I've had to
beg and plead for you to share your body with me.  Now I can take you
whenever I want you.  I don't even have to ask."  Her fingers slid over
his body, lingering over the hard bumps of his muscles, and stroking
his oversized penis.  She lifted him to her face and began kissing and
nuzzling every part of him.  He struggled, which only seemed to amuse and
arouse her.  Then she paused, gazing down on him with a glowing, rapturous
smile.  "Oh, it'll be wonderful!"

She lowered him between her legs and pumped him in and out with boundless
energy.  When she was done she held him pinned with her legs for a while.
Finally, she lifted him up with a sigh.

"Our plane home leaves in two hours.  Time for me to dress and pack you
away."  She unzipped a large purse, folded his legs up against his chest,
and placed him inside.

"Rosemary, no!"  he protested.  She held a finger to her lips, made a few
motions with her hands, and suddenly he could neither move nor speak.
Then she pulled the zipper shut and darkness enclosed him.

                            --- THE END ---