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Remote, Part 10
🕑 Added 2022-03-22 18:58:42 +0000 UTCStory Directory: $5 Patrons
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Summary: Rachel has a remote control that can influence the body of Lisa, a high school bully. She can add babies to Lisa's womb, change Lisa's breast-size and their contents, completely alter the weight and shape of Lisa's body, among other, stranger, things.. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, and more.
-
“Lisa, my parents are going to be home any minute,” Rachel managed as Lisa steadily circled her, tinkering with the remote.
“I guess you should’ve thought about that before you fucked with me, phlegm,” Lisa responded nastily.
Rachel was sweating. She tugged at her shirt collar, gasping for breath. Her body felt like a furnace. “What’s happening to me?”
“I believe this is the temperature setting,” Lisa responded. “I brought it up a couple notches.”
“Lisa…” Rachel pleaded.
“All this time, it was you,” Lisa ranted. “You made me blow up like a fucking cow. It was you every time I grew or shrunk, or when my skin changed color. I’m sure you got a good laugh while everyone was acting like I was crazy. Oh god — you made me have the babies! You got me pregnant with this thing! What the hell is this anyway? Is it like magic or something? What the hell are you, phlegm? Well, I know what you’re gonna be.”
Rachel’s body temperature abruptly dropped, causing her to shiver violently. “I’m s-sorry,” she stammered. “I —I didn’t mean—it’s just— I don’t know how any of this works either. I just found the dumb thing. God, I’m so sorry!” Tears poured down her cheeks, but then crystallized.
“Yes. You are sorry,” said Lisa.
Rachel yelped at a popping sensation at the base of her spine. She craned her neck to look behind her, and was astounded to see a coiled pig tail protruding out above her backside. “What the hell?” she breathed. What setting was that?
“This is fun,” Lisa noted with a twisted smile. “Well—it’s just insane, phlegm. I think you’re in for a ride.”
“P-please,” Rachel stammered, her teeth chattering. “M-my b-brother is here. My p-parents will be home—”
“I fail to see how that’s my problem.” But Lisa looked vaguely sympathetic.
Rachel adjusted her waistband. To her relief, the tail shrunk away. She felt her body start to warm up again, then stabilize in temperature. She thought Lisa was finally backing off, but then an uncomfortable twisting filled her stomach, accompanied by a stinging pain. Her abdomen grumbled and she felt a bit dizzy.
“This one says hunger,” said Lisa, as she pressed another button on the remote.
Indeed, Rachel was more hungry than she had ever been in her life. Hardly able to think beyond the desperation for food, Rachel ran into the kitchen. She tore the fridge open and dipped her hand right into a container of leftover macaroni salad, stuffing noodles into her mouth.
She didn’t see Lisa follow, but could hear the other girl’s high laughter behind her. “Shit, this is hilarious!”
Rachel did not retort, but continued to frantically stuff food into her mouth and swallow it down, desperate to fill her aching belly. It wasn’t just physical hunger but mental as well, every fiber of her being wanting her to consume.
“I have a lot to think about, phlegm,” Lisa mentioned. “Guess I’ll see you later.”
Rachel could hear Lisa walking off. There was the sound of the front door opening, then closing. But Rachel was still busy eating, now squishing up bread slices and shoving them between her lips. She ate and moaned, and ate some more. At some point her brother came by to goggle her.
It was going to be a long night.
-
Rachel’s parents thought there was something seriously wrong with her. They wanted to take her to the hospital, but every time they tried to pull her away from the kitchen, she would flail and struggle, even fighting them. She ate everything that she could find, including condiments. She gobbled her way through six sticks of butter, sucked down a bottle of ketchup, even chugged a jar of mayonnaise. She ate her way through the dried food in the cupboards, and soon found herself perched on the ground of the pantry amongst a pile of nonperishables, choking down dried beans, gulping back canned sauces and vegetables, and scooping up processed meats with her fingers.
Somewhere in the background she could hear her mother crying and her parents arguing. Sometimes she could hear her dad on the phone yammering in panic, and occasionally she could see Eric in her periphery, continuing to stare in morbid fascination. Eventually the house became dark, and there was silence, as Rachel continued to eat whatever she could get her hands on. Her body was sweaty, stomach aching, and she felt as though she was going to throw up. But still, she forced down more food, the hem of her skirt now cutting into her gut. She distractedly undid the button, then gasped out as her stomach pushed free, the zipper sliding down as she was allowed more capacity to breathe.
Then abruptly, the hunger stopped. Rachel gasped for breath, clothing soaked in sweat. She threw a glance out the pantry door to see the sun rising through the kitchen windows. She dropped the bag of turkey stuffing clutched in her hands, allowing it to fall to the ground, some of it spilling onto the floor.
The hunger was really gone.
Rachel hurled. It was an unimpressive pile of pinks and yellows. The pantry swung. Her world blurred. Then everything went black.
-
When Rachel woke up, she was not sure how much time had passed. She was sprawled across her bed and several people were hovering over her.
“Oh my god, she’s awake,” Mom said as she gazed down on Rachel with a worried brow.
“Rachel, hun, how are you feeling?” Dad said.
“Ughh…” Rachel felt incredibly tired and lethargic, her belly tight and in pain. She slowly shifted her hand, finding the swell. With the amount she’d eaten, she was surprised her stomach hadn’t ruptured. She groaned again, closing her eyes.
“I came over as soon as I heard,” said another voice. “Rache, what’s going on?”
Rachel’s eyes snapped open. She stared in shock up at Lisa, who stood alongside Rachel’s brother and parents, a faux-look of concern etched across her lips.
It took a moment for Rachel to be able to construe words. She swallowed hard against her dry throat. “I — um — I don’t know what came over me,” she said hoarsely.
“You were a total pig,” remarked Eric.
“I’m making an appointment with the therapist for tomorrow morning,” Mom assured.
“Make one with the family doctor as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some sort of medical issue,” said Dad, reaching out to squeeze Rachel’s hand.
“I’m fine,” Rachel assured, still unwilling to move. She felt like she could pass out again. She fought the sense of nausea creeping into her throat. “It was nothing. Just some stress-eating. Midterms and all.”
Her family members gave her dubious expressions.
“Rachel, you ate two gallons of shortening,” said mom.
As Eric gagged, Lisa could hardly contain a snort of laughter. She had something clutched at her side. Rachel craned her neck just a bit to confirm that it was the remote. Rachel found it hard to breath, her lungs feeling compressed.
“You’re seeing the therapist,” Mom said with finality before marching off.
Dad patted Rachel’s shoulder. “You’re going to be just fine, kiddo.” Then he left as well.
“Look how fat you got,” Eric snickered.
“Eric, your sister needs some rest!” Dad called from the next room.
“Her dumb friend is still here!” Eric argued.
“Lisa is on her way out!” Dad responded.
“Yes sir!” Lisa called, so Rachel’s dad could hear.
Eric grumbled and shuffled off, Lisa rolling her eyes as he did.
“God, your family is so cliché,” Lisa muttered once they were alone, her lips twisting in amusement. “I hear you put on quite a show last night, bestie. You know, your parents called me straight away. What with how close we’ve gotten lately.” Her grin broadened as she raised the remote.
“Please,” Rachel blurted. “No more of this. I said I’m sorry. You’ve got me back, okay? I feel awful.”
Lisa’s eyebrows shot up. “You think this covered it? We haven’t even gotten started. You played with my body for weeks, you cunt. When I’m through with you, you won’t just be begging. You’ll be squealing like the fucking pig you are.”
Lisa pressed a button hard. Rachel felt a strange sensation at the top of her head, her hair shifting, something…pushing free? Her fingers trembled as they explored, finding something soft and furry, yet thin and flappy. They were full of sensation as though they were part of her own body. “What did you do?” Rachel breathed.
Lisa pulled a compact mirror out of her purse and presented it to Rachel. “I think they’re cute.”
Rachel’s jaw dropped. She had a pair of pig ears now poking out of her hair. She released a horrified shriek and quickly covered her mouth with her hands.
“Good luck explaining that to your parents,” Lisa mocked as she walked off, slamming the door shut behind her.
-
“No hats, Pilgrim!” Mr. Kinsley, the school principal, called to her over the masses of students.
“It’s — um—it’s for a medical reason,” Rachel called back, ducking her head and pulling her hat down more securely against it. She scurried away before Mr. Kinsley could struggle his way over and confiscate the offending article.
The new appendages were sore from being constantly squished under the bucket hat, but it wasn’t as though Rachel had other options. The alternative was her walking around with a pair of pig ears poking out of her scalp.
Rachel still couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Where had Lisa even found a ‘pig ear’ setting? Not that Rachel had any expertise of the remote herself, but still. What the actual fuck?
She’ll cool down, Rachel reasoned. She’ll get her fill of tormenting me and chill out, and everything will be fine. We might be friends, even.
That morning, Rachel’s pig-tail had made an unwelcome reappearance. She had squished it under her skirt. It was no big deal. No one would notice, and it was temporary.
Rachel kept her head down at school, determined not to draw any attention to herself that day. It proved a hopeless enterprise.
Rachel found her humiliation becoming particularly excruciating during her history presentation. The torment graduated to torture when Rachel felt a strange sensation against her chest, her skin rubbing into her shirt, and she realized that she was changing. She was…growing.
“Oh no,” she gasped out, as her small breasts continued to fill out her A-cup bra, bulging against the cups until they strained and the bra began to slide upward.
Belatedly, Rachel looked back up at the class. They were staring at her in confusion. Not many seemed to have yet noticed the incremental growth of her chest. Among the other students, Lisa leaned back and watched smugly, not even attempting to hide the remote grasped in her fist. She mouthed something that looked like, ‘your turn.’
“I —um —” Rachel stammered. “A-after the fall of the Berlin wall, Germany was —ohhh…” she grunted as the bra stretched more, until it slid upwards, and the plump flesh – her breasts — popped free, protruding outward, and she could see them under her shirt, the way they pushed the fabric out and made it stretch. Rachel had always been flat-chested. Her breasts had never been visible or notable, but now they were bulging overtly, and some of her classmates were blinking hard at her in puzzlement.
They were by no means large, but there was definitely a difference, the sensation of her erect nipples rubbing against the cotton making Rachel squirm. “Excuse me,” she squeaked, before bolting out of the classroom door. She practically threw herself into a bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her, and leaning against it as she gasped for breath. This was just getting out of hand!
She dragged herself over to the sink, peering at herself in the mirror. “They’re still growing,” she whispered to herself in horror, watching as the cups steadily became C’s, then D’s, her face heating up as her thighs quivered. “Oh god,” she groaned, cupping the mounds as they grew yet more, her shirt straining so much it looked like it might tear, simultaneously riding up, as her breasts grew rounder and fatter, bobbing slightly as she arched and gasped.
Finally, they stopped. The mounds had to be EEs. “Fuck,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the sink. How was she going to explain this to her parents?
Her legs still felt weak beneath her. Rachel staggered over to the toilet and plopped down against the closed lid. She got on her cell phone, and with clumsy fingers, navigated to Messages. She selected Lisa’s name. you don’t know what you’re doing, this has to stop!! she wrote.
After only a moment, there was a ‘…’ Bubble indicating that Lisa was typing. Then Lisa’s message came through.
A laughing/crying emoji.
Then another.
A whole stack of them.
Rachel shoved her phone into her pocket in frustration, then just stared at the wall, trying to breathe evenly.
Lisa showed no sign of stopping this madness.
Rachel was really and truly fucked.
