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Disclaimer: If you found this story, odds are you have scoured through hundreds of pages of similar material and have happened upon it, so you know what you’re looking for. If by some reverse miracle you have found this passage and are NOT looking for a story in the deep end of transformation erotica, and/or are underage in the place where you live, there has been a horrible mistake. For your own well-being, don’t read it.
Now that that’s out of the way, on with the show.
“All I’m saying is if it’s good enough for shapes, it’s good enough for numbers!”
Julie strode through The Mall while Emma bounced along beside her, telling her close to the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.
“That’s not how it works though, it would just be confusing as hell.”
The pair of girls wandered past the rows of shops as they had done dozens of times when there was nothing to do on a Sunday. The smallish shopping center wasn’t as much of a mall as it was a collection of shops too poor to afford leasing anything else. But as much as it wasn’t a mall, the two insisted on calling it that due to it being the only mall-like structure in several hundred miles. The Mall. Singular.
The whole place was bright and well lit, which seemed to be inevitable as almost everything was outside. There were a few tarps set up to hang between the hallways of shops to provide a faux ceiling for shade, but they never helped much with the heat.
“How!? How is it confusing. If you have a pentagon, then a hexagon, hepta, octo-nona-deca-eccetera, then why can’t I have a pentillion dollars? It should go million, as in Mono, Billion as in two, trillion, quadrillion, pentillion and so on. And don’t even get me STARTED on the word square. It’s a quadrangle.” Emma nudged Julie’s shoulder with hers, too lazy to take her hands out of the pockets of her shorts.
Emma was a little thing, about a head smaller than her friend, who stood at around 5’9″. Her legs were so short that she had to take a step and a half for every one that Julie did. Her impish features tied into her shortness, big blue eyes and a cute little turned up nose. She always had to look up at Julie through her straight blond hair, which she pretty much refused to pull out of her face.
“Quadrangle.” Julie repeated, chuckling a little as she returned the shoulder nudge “Why not just go all out and call it a quadrellagram?” Julie laughed, adding “But I can see how someone with no curves is so annoyed by shapes.”
“Bitch.” Emma snickered, finally pulling her hand out of her pocket to give Julie a playful punch in the arm. Julie didn’t exactly have that feminine “hourglass” that all the magazines rave on about, but standing next Emma’s twiggy figure made her look like a particular someone from Willendorf. Julie had wavy brown hair that ended a little below the hood of her grey hoodie hanging behind her neck, which she persisted to wear even in the current weather. She had a straight nose in contrast to Emma’s, and her green eyes sparkled like lake water in the blistering sun.
“Hey, check it!” Emma broke the monotony of their stroll with the outburst, tugging on Julies sleeve and pointing at some store, “‘Nother new shop! We’re going in there! We are so going in there!”
At The Mall shops came and went like bugs around a streetlamp, a new one cropping up for every one that closed down. It wasn’t uncommon to see a new shop that you kind of thought might be interesting if it got popular, only to see it gone a week later because nobody went in, which was kind of your fault too since everyone else had that same thought. However, this particular shop that Emma was pointing at with her outstretched arm was different.
It felt like Emma was damn near about to shake my arm off.
“Quit! What is it?” I half-shout at her, shrugging her off my sleeve and turning towards where she was pointing.
As she had so plainly stated, there was a new shop. This one stood out more than the usual new ones, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. The whole front of the place was painted black, and instead of whatever glass entrance or revolving door all the other shops had, this place’s entryway was just a bare archway, with a thick wall of beads hanging from the top of it like some hippies’ room. You couldn’t see much from between them either, just black wall and dim new-store insides. It stood out comically, crammed between Kitty’s Cupcakes and some Dippin Dots knock-off called Little Ice Cream Balls. Wonder why that place never got popular.
Emma walked past me and stared up at the sign, which was a trip all by itself without the whole “emo kid’s bedroom” vibe they were throwing off. It was this big wooden thing that scrawled across the top of the entryway-beads, carved to make it look like a scroll. On the paper between the two scroll-roller things it read “Ye Olde Magic Shoppe”. You’d think if they were going the whole old English route they’d casino oyna have at least spelled it like “Magick” or something.
“Freaky.” Emma said to herself without looking away from the strange sign, “Huh. You’d think they’d have spelled Magic the other way.” God I love Emma. This is why we’re friends, she gets me. Without another word she disappears behind the curtain of beads, clattering behind her as they retook their places in the doorframe. I took one last glance at the sign before going in after her, making a neat part in the beads with my hands and pulling them to either side.
The first thing that hit me was the smell, like chocolate chip cookies and some kind of exotic spice mixed together. The next was a blast of cold air in my face as I cleared the wall of beads, and Emma inelegantly flapping her shirt against her chest.
“Glorious air conditioning!” Emma shouted to the ceiling, “I’d be wondering how they keep all the cold in here if I wasn’t so grateful.”
“It’s part of the magic.” We both jumped a little as a girl’s voice sounded from somewhere in the back of the shop. That’s when I took my first look around. From what I could see the place went much further back than it seemed from out front. It was set up like a library, every wall covered from ceiling to floor in shelves, but rather than books, they were filled up with the most random crap you could imagine. It was like a tornado tore through a neighborhood on garage sale day and dumped it all here.
The shop girl popped out from behind one of the shelves and approached us, pulling her straight black hair out of her eyes. Half of her head was shaved, and she had a pierced septum with a little silver nose-ring, “Hey guys! Welcome! Feel free to look around or whatever.” She swung her weight around like someone who knew how to use their curves. And curves she had. With the tube top and skin-tight black jeans she was rocking I felt my self-esteem drop a few points just looking at her.
“Uh, thanks! We will.” I responded, dumbly. At her say so Emma had wandered off without saying a word to go lose herself in one of the shelves low enough for her to reach. For a moment I looked around at the shelves and shelves of stuff before realizing that I still didn’t exactly know what they were even supposed to sell. She must have noticed something from the look on my face.
“I could… show you around a little? If that would start you off?” God her voice was cute. I caught myself thinking that and shook my head a little before responding.
“Um, sure. What exactly do you sell? Like I know, “Magic stuff”, but really.”
She didn’t seem put-off by the question at all, “No, that’s about right! Magic stuff. Go ahead,” She waved her arm to one side of the shop, opposite of where Emma had wandered “Pick a shelf and hold something up. I’ll tell you what it does.”
Okay, she clearly buys whatever it is she’s selling. I walked up to one of the shelves and zoomed in on a little tray with a bunch of knick knacks and a sticky note on the side that read “2 for a dollar”.
That made me chuckle. I gestured to the price “Rough economy for a magic shop?”
“We do quite alright. Those though,” She glanced at the little bargain bin “not the most useful.”
I scanned my eyes over it again. A yo-yo, a mood ring, a single die, a Chinese finger trap, a tube of lip-stick, and a whole lot of other miscellaneous objects, all sitting jumbled up together in the silver tray. I picked up the die and looked at her, “Okay, so on a scale of 1 to really magical…?”
She looked at the dice “Moderately. Around a 2. It technically works.” She shrugs.
I look back at it, then toss it back onto the tray. It comes up 1, “Where exactly does the magic come in?”
She looks at the result, chuckles a bit, then answers, “It’s supposed to predict how many times you’re going to get off for the rest of the week.”
I stare down at the little cube, “Heh. Cute.” I pick it back up and drop it again. Another 1. And another. Who would make a loaded dice that only lands on 1? “Well what exactly is wrong with it?”
She strides over next to me and picks it up. Her perfume sneaks into my nose, a summer breeze. The room feels a little warmer.
“It only goes up to 6.” She drops the dice, but instead of landing properly it jolts when it hits the tray, again and again like a jumping bean, never sitting still. It finally stops when she slams her hand down on top of it, “Not very useful for more… active people, “
At this point I’m trying to figure out how she got it to jump around like that. Remote control in her pocket? Heat sensor? A little complicated for such a small gag. The shop-girl nudges her head towards the tray again. I take the hint and pick up another knick knack, the mood ring, the mood of the day apparently whatever dark red is supposed to mean. I slip it on my finger, and it just barely manages to fit, “So what’s wrong with the mood ring? slot oyna Does it guess wrong or something?”
A mischievous smile lights up on her face and she leans in closer, giving me another breath of her scent, “No, it’s just stuck on one mood.” She takes my hand softly and brings it up to her face. She breathes a word into the ring, “Horny”
A wave of warmth suffuses my hand and shoots down my arm, coursing through me. I can feel my face go red as the wave makes its way under my jeans, starting me up, “Oh god.” I let out, not meaning to. It was too much. The need was there. The need I only ever felt when I was alone on a Friday night. It was burning through me, and it was getting hard to breathe. I was just about to move my hands down to take care of it when she pulled the ring off my finger. The room jolted back into place around me and I realized what I was about to do. My face went even redder.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Super unprofessional.” The tone of her voice implied that she didn’t mean a word of it.
“I don’t- How did you- What was-” My head was spinning as the heat left me, replaced by the heat of embarrassment.
“Magic~.” She said in a little sing-song, cutting off my hopeless babbling. You could hear the smile in her voice. She dropped the little red ring back on the tray with a clatter.
I paused. That was too weird. I looked back down at the small arrangement of objects, noticing a trend.
“Exactly what kind of magic did you say you sell…?”
I swear I saw a small spark of something flash behind her brown eyes, “The fun kind!”
Before speaking again she adjusted her top, her boobs jiggling into a more comfortable position. God damn those tits. That shit ain’t fair. Someone must have broken the mold after she was finished, ’cause people would still be waging war over it. A little bit of the red returned to my face as she noticed me noticing her, but she just smiled, apparently liking the attention.
“…Shall we continue?”
I figured I’d explore a little and let the two titty monsters have their chat. I wanted to see what this place was really about. Julie didn’t really have much more than most girls, probably like a B cup or something, but since she liked to tease me so much about how little I had; Titty monster. That other girl was something else though, like someone pranked god and his salt-shaker full of hotness had the cap fall off while mixing her ingredients. Rock on sexy shop-girl.
I meandered between the rows of “magical” junk, piled high on the shelves all the way up to the ceiling. The atmosphere of the place was growing on me. Like at first I thought it was trying too hard to be all super-edgy like every teenager you see walking around covered in Hot Topic crap, but it was starting to feel more real. More genuine.
As I approached one of the shelves I immediately realized that this place was constructed for freakish giants. I could only reach the first two levels, maybe stuff on the edge of the third if I stood on my tippy toes. Fucking tall people. Still, there was plenty of magical™ stuff I could reach to mess around with. Now let’s see here… A lamp with no shade, a pair of bifocals, a glow stick, a thong, a bowl of unmarked candy, a box of condoms, a ridiculously large bra… Literally a bowl of dildos… In fact it became increasingly obvious that most of the stuff was kinky junk, and It just goes on and on in every direction.
“So that’s what kind of store this is! Heh, J’s totally gonna freak out.” I said to the empty hall of not-empty shelves. I poke through the random items, now and then thinking how silly it would be to actually buy something, “Oh hello! What might you do, my little friend?” I said, bringing a small grey remote up to my face to examine it. For a remote, it didn’t seem to have a lot of versatility, having only one white dial right in the middle, with no distinguishing markings at all to make sense of what it was supposed to be adjusting. I turn the dial up about a half turn, looking around to see if something else on one of the shelves reacted.
“Hmmph.” I said, dissatisfied. I really expected to hear some kind of vibrating.
I reach down and scratch at my chest. Damn it’s cold in here. I wrap my arms around my chest in an attempt to warm them, feeling my nipples dig into my forearms. As I looked down I saw two little tents sticking out of my shirt defiantly, “Whoa! Good morning girls! What’s got you two all riled up?”
…What? A lot of people talk to their nipples. Shut up.
I tend not to wear bras, as I’ve never had anything in need of support, but this kind of thing doesn’t usually happen to me. I pull at my shirt, but that in no way helped their stalwart campaign to be noticed. The rough cotton wasn’t doing them any favors either. I’d never seen them this hard! “Okay then… I’m just gonna look around some more. You guys just try to calm down, k?”
Turning the dial canlı casino siteleri back to its original position, again looking to see if anything happened (no results), I put it back in the general area that I’d found it and continued scanning over the shelves. Again I lost myself in the sea of magical™ treasures, and in no time the two distracting bumps sticking through my shirt faded back to my usual washboard. Good. All back to normal.
It wasn’t until a shelf and a half of browsing later did it click in my head. After a little too much time trying to find the thing in the place I thought I’d remembered putting it, I picked the little remote back off the counter, “Just have to check…”
I glanced down at my chest, then gave the thing another half-turn. Immediately I felt my nipples crinkle up, pushing out into the fabric. I stared at them for a while, just holding the remote in both hands with my head reeling, “No fuckin’ way.” I spun the dial all the way back, and like good little soldiers following orders, my nubs softened again. “No fuckin’ WAY!” I spun it around half way and back a couple times, mesmerized by the little pistons on my chest popping in and out on a whim. I couldn’t hold back the laughter, “Hah! A remote control for nipples! Why is whoever made this not filthy rich!? I wonder what…”
Holding it in one hand and the dial in the other, I twisted it all the way around to where it had started, meeting resistance there and refusing to go any further. I felt my nubs tighten up, the taut flesh straining against itself to go further. Their sensitivity shot through the roof, and I felt jolts of sensation zip straight from my nipples down between my legs. Just the sensation of my shirt touching them was driving me crazy! “Ack! Too much! Too much.”
I spun the thing all the way back around, resetting my nipples to default, then placing it gingerly back on the shelf. I hopped up and down on the balls of my feet. This was so fuckin’ cool! Suddenly the rest of the stuff on the shelves didn’t feel so much like junk. It felt more like buried treasure.
“Here.” The shop-girl said, plucking something off the shelf beside her and holding it out to me, “Try something not out of a bargain bin.” She had led me a little further into the shop, the bright sunlight from outside only barely making it back to us through the rows of shelves.
I took the stick-shaped object out of her hand without really paying attention, still focused on asking questions.
“Seriously, how did you do the ring thing? Pheromones? Hypnosis?” I looked away for a second talking to myself quietly, “Maybe it absorbed through my skin…”
While I was still contemplating her illusion, she deftly grabbed the stick in my hand, lightly tapped me on the head with it, then put it back in my hand.
“Ow, hey!” It hadn’t really hurt, it was a reflex ow. I rubbed my head with my free hand.
“You think too much! Now try that thing out and it might answer some of your questions.”
I looked down at the stick. It was warm to the touch. It didn’t feel like I was holding a stick, more like holding someone else’s hand. The whole thing looked like it had been hastily whittled from some branch, save for one side, which had been sanded completely flat and smooth. On the flat surface there were carvings, all glowing a faint green. There were five circles along it, each containing a Roman numeral all the way up to five. After the furthest number, an intricately carved arrow pointed right off the edge of the stick, now pointing at the shop-girl.
I looked up at her skeptically, and she just nodded her head towards it.
“Go on, pick a number one through five.” She was smiling in anticipation. She clearly liked showing off the merchandise personally.
I continued to inspect the strange stick. The green glow was shifting slowly beneath the characters.
“Any number I want?”
She nodded, “Any number you want.”
I took a breath, “Fuck it.” I pressed my thumb into the Roman numeral two, and suddenly there was a shift. A sound that I could only describe as “GLORB” vibrated through the air around us. My eyes were immediately drawn to her chest. Her tits had practically jumped out at me, stretching her top even tighter than it was, deepening her already spectacular cleavage. I couldn’t focus on her however, for I was far too concerned with my own chest.
Or lack thereof. At the precise moment of her spectacular growth, the front of my shirt deflated, the fabric left loose as the flesh it had once comfortably held vanished. I tugged at my collar and stared down my shirt at a chest that hadn’t been that flat since I was 12, and a lonely pair of nipples without a home. My hands desperately searched the front of my shirt, only confirming its emptiness.
“Ahhn~… That always feels a little better than I remember.” Shop-girl was hefting her new mounds with relish, jiggling them up and down with her fingers.
I was staring at her tits flabbergasted. My brain short-circuited, and didn’t feel it was capable of doing much else. Soon anger started to bubble, causing a few words to rise to the surface.
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