Alternate Lives - Part Four

Opening the door I check the coast is clear before slipping out, sneaking down the hall and to the stairs as I begin to make the trek to my favorite little cafe as this mysterious young woman Imogen Hall.

Thankfully, the normally quiet hallway outside is empty as per usual. While my neighbors would come and go, sometimes stopping to chat and gossip, they wouldn't stick around for long. I'm forced to fight back a squeal as I race to the stairs, my overwhelming chest threatening to drag me to the ground as the heaving of the massive mounds of saggy fat become too intense.

I'm forced to slow as I take my first unsteady steps down the stairs, my tiny pudgy hand gripping the railing as I try to watch where exactly I'm standing. The wall of flesh and flab beneath me stymies my efforts however, the heavy sloshing milk bags blocking practically any view of my body beneath me.

"For...fucks sake..." I pant, feeling my body already growing out of breath as I'm forced to carry myself down multiple flights of stairs. "I know Imogen would have been called all sorts of names for these" I mutter, pushing my arms slightly forward as they soon bump into the sides of my overflowing chest.

"I mean...if she had existed before...well...now..."

The trek down the stairs is thankfully uneventful, with only a few awkward moments of stumbling as my short legs miss an expected step or my hips bump into the railing next to me. With each step my mind is drawn to the sensations of my new body, from the heaving bounce of my chest to the incessant wobbling of my flabby rear and the jiggling of my thick stretch mark laden thighs.

Before long I manage to make it to the exit to the street below, my fresh and youthful heart racing a mile a minute inside my chest. With giddy and anxious anticipation I waddle and stumble my way out into the street, nibbling at my full soft lower lip as this brand new person steps out into the world for the first time.

Everything seems far bigger, the buildings and people towering over me thanks to my diminished height. A terrible thrill cascades through me, my whole body tingling as I relish the anonymity and my new inverted perspective. My pale cheeks begin to grow flushed, a combination of my own guilty pleasure and the exertion in getting down here leaving my face with a rosy glow.

I catch people glancing down at me, my own eyes following their gaze nervously to the wall of sloshing meat tightly bound in the white blouse I'm wearing. It's downright arousing, watching as those who pass me by leer at me through the rather conservative outfit.

It doesn't take too long for me to reach the cafe, though to be honest, it is far longer than I was used to. Sweat builds around my body, in areas both familiar and not. I can't help but shift and adjust my chest with my upper arms, feeling the old phone and money squeezed between my new assets becoming sodden with uncomfortably warm sweat. The stretchy and elastic bra, which had been easy and comfortable to get on, likewise was starting to feel less than comfortable as it digs into my shoulders and feels ever so slightly moist beneath my massive milky mammaries.

"Note to self..." I mutter, reaching for the door handle and pushing it open "Invest in a purse or something."

The cafe is rather quiet today, the dull hum of people chatting being so low that one can hear people typing away at their laptops. It was largely for students and teachers at the local college, a chill place not too far from the campus itself where one could escape to for a sense of normalcy.

Vined plants run over the rafters, blocking much of the ceiling from sight. I had never asked if the plants were real or not, though I suppose I always could have just reached up to touch them. A smirk spreads across my delightful face at the thought, staring up at the plants now so far out of reach.

Round tables dot the room, worn wooden table tops supported by black wrought-iron legs. The chairs sit around them in sets of four, their design following the wood and metal trend. Towards the back sit several booths, soft plush seats with high backs for a sense of privacy.

Waddling inside I whip my head around, checking to see if I recognized anyone. My heart sinks as I notice my neighbor Kelly, the young girl sitting with what looks like some sort of study group. My stomach churns and my heart skips a beat as our eyes meet. She looks at me with a confused smile, not a single look of recognition on her face.

With a deep breath I weakly smile back, hanging my head as I try to mince deeper inside with my many envelopes in hand.

"Fuck, I must have looked like an idiot" I think to myself, glancing over at Kelly as I pass and our eyes meeting again. Her whole group was looking now, all apparently trying to work out if they recognize me or had seen me around campus.

Thankfully a booth is open, the table still covered in dishes and cups from the last group. Eager for some privacy I race over to it, dropping my oversized rear into the plush seat as my legs dangle over the edge. The space in the booth leaves much to be desired, the dark varnished wooden table that had seemed more than fine a few days ago resting uncomfortably close to my breasts. In fact, as I shuffle into my seat and slouch down awkwardly I feel the heavy weights soon come to rest atop it.

A sigh escapes my lips, a weight on my back and shoulder quickly dissipating as the heavy orbs bound to me begin to sag and pool out against the cold hardwood. My chin comes to rest in my cleavage, a slight giggle escaping my lips as the thought of portable pillows comes to mind.

"Can I clear that for you ma'am?" comes a voice that snaps me from my delighted dreamy stupor. I quickly lurch up, the weight that had grown unnoticed over my walk quickly returning to the forefront of my mind as I'm forced to hold it up once me.

My gaze turns to a college-aged woman in her early twenties standing beside my table. She stands around 5'6", the dark bags under her hazel eyes being all that blemishes her pale complexion. She stares down at me without much of an expression beyond bored and tired, her thin black painted lips making a flat line across her face. Her build is rather plain, slender with a modest bust beneath her grey t-shirt and navy apron. It is enhanced by her tattoos and piercing however, an intense amount of ink covering her arms and neck while all manner of rings and studs bot her lip, ears, and nose.

She doesn't even wait for a response, quickly setting about cleaning up the remnants of the previous customers. As she piles up everything on one of her arms she flashes me a faint smile, her eyes darting momentarily to my chest. "So...what can I get you?" she asks, a little more warmth in her voice after her brief perv.

"Um..." I murmur stupidly, my sultry and alluring voice making it sound like I had nothing between my ears. "Just an espresso shot...I think..." I mutter with uncertainty, wondering if my usual order would actually be alright with my new body.

"You don't sound too sure" the young woman remarks, scoffing a little.

"No...I mean..." I mumble, not used to being caught this off guard with a damned coffee order. "I'm just... that's what my... brother orders and..." I respond, making up a lie as I try to sound reasonable.

"Well you may not appreciate that one" the girl explains, pouting slightly as she watches me fidget in place. Again, I catch her stealing a glance of my chest, my shifting causing my bust to slosh around in the bra like jello. "Look, I'll make one for you and something I think will be more... your speed"

"I... thank you" I mewl, playing up my sweet demure appearance as I bat my eyelashes at her. I innocently hold my hands in my lap, squishing the sides of my overflowing chest together as the buttons of my bouse begin to part and reveal the pale vein flesh inside.

The girls pale face begins to turn a little red before she quickly nods to me. "No problem" she coughs out, her voice sounding a little rough and masculine, before racing off to the kitchen with the old plate.

I can't help but giggle under my breath as I watch her race away, delighted to see the effect my body could have on other people. The old me would have never received a reception like that, hell I'd probably still be dealing with the pile of plates.

With my new privacy I begin to dump out the envelope onto the table, the contents spilling across the surface as my eyes dart hungrily over it all. Not much tumbles out in the end weirdly enough, or at least not what I expect, my quick glance failing to find any sort of proper ID like a driver's license.

I quickly snatch up the Birth Certificate, adjusting the tortoise-shell glasses as I read it over.

 

Name:     Imogen Hall
Gender:   Female
D.O.B:    27/02/2001

Mother:   Megan Hall
D.O.B:    05/09/1987

Father:   Jason Hall
D.O.B:    02/03/1985

I quickly place the sheet back into the envelope, choosing to ignore the particulars like locations or occupations for now. I move on with great haste, grabbing a newer-looking formal set of papers. The first in the pile appears to be a high school diploma, the fancy-looking certificate looking similar to the one my mother probably still had somewhere in a frame. I move on to the meat of the matter though, eagerly finding the transcript

 

Name: Imogen Hall

English:
48/50

Specialist Mathematics:
44/50

History:
49/50

Literature:
47/50

Film Studies:
40/50

Music:
42/50

My heart skips a beat as I read these marks. I had never achieved anything close to something like this during my time in high school, having been a bit of a slacker back then. I had to struggle to get into college, though once I was there I did straighten up...in the end at least.

With marks like these I would have been going to the best college I could afford, hell they'd probably pay my way through my degree. I can't help but wonder, will I feel...smarter in here? Would this new body fiddle with my mind somehow, or is this simply a stupid little backstory for a person created whole cloth.

Behind the transcript lay a bunch of awards from independent creative writing competitions to even receiving an award for being both the top of her History and English classes in the graduating year. I can't hide my excitement, giddy beyond belief at the achievements I had made with one simple purchase.

Sliding the pages into the envelope I'm brought back to reality by the sound of someone approaching. Glancing up I see the dark-haired young woman from before walking up to my booth, a drink in either hand. One is a small little ceramic cup, a dark black liquid stemming away inside. The other is a tall frosty cup, a great deal of foam and whipped cream on top.

"Here... you... go" she mutters, placing the drinks in front of me. I'm immediately met with the harsh bitter scent of the espresso, my mind reveling in the dark aromas while my body recoils at it. It almost makes me sick from just the smell, what had once been a delightful scent signaling a caffeine rush now leaving me practically gagging.

"Um... thank you..." I coo, looking up at her with gratitude. Her lip twitches again slightly, the ring in the center of her lip jingling as the side of her mouth curls into a smile.

I reach out for the espresso, taking it into my soft hands. I'm practically shaking as I bring it to my lips, the scent being so strong I can practically taste the revolting bitter drink. With a sigh I place it down, pushing it over to the waitress.

"Sorry... I don't..." I begin to whimper, pausing as I watch her take the cup and down the shot in an instant. She practically purrs at the taste, reveling in the dark strong coffee in a way my new body simply couldn't.

"No problem" she states dryly, licking her lips. "I needed a pick-me-up anyhow. Try that one, it's a little sweeter" she explains, chuckling a little as she takes the smaller cup away and heads back to the register.

Grumbling under my breath I take up the sickeningly sweet-scented beverage left for me. The foam at the top jiggling slightly as powdered chocolate shakes free from the top. I can barely smell the coffee behind all the sugar, milk, and chocolate within the frosty cold drink. Despite that, I can't help but lick my lips at the smell of it.

The cup is so large, so grand that I can't fully bring it to my lips without bumping and shifting my chest. Not only do my arms brush and press against the overwhelming pair in front of me in the course of simply reaching for the cup, but the cup itself rests against and presses into the top of my fleshy shelf as a wet ring stains my top.

As I bring the straw to my plush lip I give a little tentative suck, my eyes fluttering and my voice purring in a happy moan as my mouth fills with the thick sweet chocolatey drink. It's so unreasonably good, my whole body filling with delight as I wriggle giddily in place.

I would have hated with yesterday, between the thick cloying cream and the overly sweet taste I would have been repulsed by it all. However, now my body craved the sweetness, demanded the thick creamy calories that I quickly guzzled down without a second thought.

I'm lost for a moment as I drain the whole large cup down my throat, my growling stomach soon silencing as it accepts the heavy cream and calories it had been missing for god knows how long. With a long satisfied sigh I lean forward, resting my chest against the table as I simply revel in my delightful sugar rush. I can't stop giggling, the energy coursing through me leaving me light-headed as it blends with the rest of the chemical cocktail my body had in store for my malleable gray matter.

In a haze I move through the rest of the items, finding little more of immediate use.

I small proof-of-age card sits as my only form of real photo ID, the older well-worn school ID simply showing a far younger and pimplier version of this made up young woman. A few bank cards are soon returned to the envelope as well, post-it notes stuck to each with the PIN and login details for the account. A pair of death certificates rest alongside a title deed, the names of the two parent's on the fake birth certificate being printed on both of them.

The title deed itself is immediately recognizable, the address belonging to my grandmother's old house by the coast. I had been given it in the will, the run-down little property I had gone to with her for many a summer, and had in turn given it to this body as per the requirements of purchasing something like this. However, rather than my name as the previous owner I'm met with the names of both of Imogen's parents who had apparently left the house to their only daughter in this legal fiction.

Finally, I'm left with the little letter with floral cutesy handwriting on the front. With a smirk I pick it up, practically bouncing in my seat as the sugar takes hold and I'm forced to move or be overcome with the surge of energy. I tenderly tear open the envelope, not wanting to damage the contents and to leave it resealable if need be.

Inside I find a small handwritten letter, the same hand writing on the envelope covering the small sheet of paper.

Dear Mr. Hughes,

Hi!

I'm Imogen Hall, or at least I am for now.

We have to test out the bodies before they go out and I got this one for the week. If it helps to know she's holding up really well. Some of us were worried about the... Assets, someone even wanted to give her a reduction before sending her out for delivery.

Don't worry though I fought for me to keep this chest intact for you ;)

We like to write little letters in character for the buyers, at least at our warehouse.

So without further ado...

Hi Jordan,

I'm so so glad you decided to bring me into your home. I can't wait to have you inside me.

I'm sorry if that sounded Sultry, I didn't mean it that way even if my voice oozes with that tone. I promise I'm not that type of girl, just a Tiny little Nerdy type of homebody that loves to read and write.

I apologize in advance for your new... things. My mom was pretty Busty and I ended up taking after her and then some. As for down below, well the folks at school always used to call me Hippy

I thought they meant because of my fashion sense for the longest time 0_0

I'm sure you'll learn to love being so soft and Squishy in no time, even if that means dealing with my 30JJs (Check the back of the letter for my recommendations for some good lingerie shops, you'll need them).

I haven't started college yet, not after my parents passed away. I guess I'm as soft and Squishy emotionally as I am physically huh? I'm sure a Nerdy girl like me will go eventually, will you help me? Just as a Tiny favor for me?

Anyhow, I'm running out of space on the card. Have fun, take care of me and I'm sure you'll have years of enjoyment as Imogen Hall.

Lots and lots and lots of love,

Imogen Hall

I can't help my giggle and chuckle as I read through the note, spying the emphasized words from my purchase popping up throughout the letter. I had only been given six words to choose from, and in potentially a bad decision I selected each and every one of them.

My eyes go wide as I read the bra size, choking a little bit on my thick milky spit as I double chest before glancing at my own chest. "Fuck...me..." I whisper, reaching under my rack with my left hand before trying to lift the weighty mass. It's certainly heavy, my weak arms likely not able to do it for an extended period of time, but I didn't think they were that big.

Twisting the page over I see numerous websites noted on the back, little notes next to each describing them in various manners;

Cheap but uncomfortable, avoid underwires here
Solid construction but boring styles, limited range of colors
Cheap and never in-stock, great if you can find one
Expensive and totally worth it
...

Sliding the letter back into the original envelope I drop both into the bulging manila envelope with the rest of my files. With no small amount of huffing and puffing I slide myself to the edge of the booth, squeezing myself between the seat and the table as either my thick fatty ass or my shelf of a chest are bumping and pressing into something.

Thankfully, I eventually manage to pull myself free, bounding to my boot-covered feet with a wobbly leap. I feel so good, so full of energy like I could run a mile...no two miles, wait three! My hands shake subtly, the sugar and caffeine doing more than their fair share to a body that had likely never had either its whole life.

I quickly waddle over to the counter, my plush thighs grinding and rubbing together with each heavy swaying step. My hips gyrate more and more as I loosen my mental grip on my body's gait, letting the wide set bones do their thing despite the disconcerting effect on my bulbous behind.

I stop in front of the counter with a little bounce, my chest roiling like a wave as it carries the sudden motion. Sadly the waitress from before is no longer there, an older man I recognized as the manager stands behind the divide working at the coffee machine.

"Um...hi!" I squeak a little too loudly, wincing and ducking my head as I hear my overly excited and energetic voice fill the room. "I mean...I was in the booth over there, how much..."

"You were comped" the manager says with a smile and a shrug. "Gracie said you didn't like the coffee so consider it on the house" he explains, the man knowing how to treat and retain loyal customers.

"Are you..." I begin to ask, silencing myself as he gives me a warm smile and nod.

"Absolutely, hope to see you in again" he states, grinning as he returns to frothing some milk.

I leave with a spring in my step, the painful tugging of the straps against my shoulders doing little to dampen my joy. As I flounce out into the street I spin a little, enjoying the feeling of my long heavy skirt raising a little bit in the cool winter air.

"Free drinks, cute girls checking me out, energy for days and..." I mutter under my breath as I begin to walk home, my eyes darting down to the rack beneath me that I had yet to fully explore and enjoy. "This was the best purchase I've ever made."

The walk home is different than before. While still reveling in the sensation of being watched of following people's gaze as they look at my conservative outfit and easily make out the curves beneath, it all feels so much more natural. The bounce, the sway, the tiny steps, the wind in my absurdly long hair, it all feels less alien. Sure, it may just be the endorphins, the happy-making chemicals spreading through me along with all the sweet sweet sugar, but at the moment I simply don't care.

Trudging up the stairs though is another matter. The energy quickly begins to temporarily drain from my body, hauling my somewhat doughy frame and heaving assets up to the fourth floor on my short legs and in my un-fit body feeling like hell.

As I come to the landing I slow down, glancing around to make sure no one will notice me slipping back into my apartment. As I peer down from the stairwell I find...