Cathy's Second Act (Chapter 1)

Bathed in the glow of Ron’s computer screen, Cathy had been staring dumbfounded, jaw hung and emerald eyes bugged, for five minutes straight at the treasure trove of imagery she’d uncovered. She could hardly form a coherent thought, let alone fully comprehend the miraculous find she’d uncovered at his work desk, though her body was already working ahead of her mind, making her prickle with goose bumps and electrifying her veins, as well as creating a stir in certain starved regions between her thighs.

Slowly the dark-haired secretary withdrew from his desk, lurched her generous hips out of the chair, and towered back to her nearly six-and-a-half foot stature, thanks to the boost from her high heels. All the while, however, she didn’t tear her gaze away from the visage onscreen of that busty, full-lipped, bubble-butted siren of a woman, her black locks flowing and her naked assets on lustrous display, and who just so happened to be looming like an hourglass-figured monument above a tiny enthralled man who looked an awful lot like Ron.

Cathy simply couldn’t believe what a jackpot she’d hit upon here. As she’d spent months trying to reel her latest catch in, the scrawny and utterly adorable twenty-year-old was easily toyed with via her giddy innuendo and sultry winks, and the fact that he’d stuck around the company for so long meant her odds of finally coaxing him all the way into her clutches were better than ever. His docile nature, unfortunately, as appealing as it made him to the big-boned cougar, also meant he needed an extra nudge to leap into her arms. By accessing his computer tonight, Cathy had hoped to find some clue that might give him that push: perhaps the kinds of outfits he liked on his ladies, his major turn-ons, or even a hint that her mature maternal charms had already rubbed off on him somewhat.

Yet what she uncovered was far better than that. Judging by his sheepish reciprocation of her flirting all along, and the gleam of attraction in his eye despite her being twice his age and nearly a foot taller, Ron was definitely into her, but Cathy would’ve never fathomed to what degree his imagination was coveting her queenly shape, and she couldn’t have been more shocked or delighted. Indeed, while the puny man in the picture was obviously Ron, the giant woman above him, though not precisely like Cathy, was so similar in build, dimensions, and even her smile, that it wasn’t hard to guess whom he was really picturing.

It was so wonderful to see, to even conceive of how Ron truly viewed her as his superior in all ways, the woman couldn’t help but swallow thirst-inspired drool, swiping her tongue in circles around her lips, and naughtily venturing her fingers to fold back her skirt and pluck at the waistband of her now-dewy panties. All her life, Cathy had fought self-doubts about her colossal-statured uber-buxom sex appeal, not to mention the stretch marks and extra wrinkles that had come with middle age, especially after her messy divorce from that abusive asshole; it was only by forcing herself to wear a self-loving façade that she’d learned to exude as much take-charge confidence as her naturally-dominating presence already suggested.

And now she knew that Ron, a young man she’d frankly become so deeply infatuated with that she was certain she’d do just about anything to make him hers, not only tolerated but lusted after and worshipfully longed for her to assume an even more titanic size advantage over him. The idea of wanting more height had never occurred to Cathy, seeing how she already had to look down to meet the gazes of pretty much everyone she met, but with her gaze locked into this fantastical image Ron had obviously crafted himself, she yearned now to ascend much higher: to stretch her majestic curves to yet more-bulbous proportions, to soar above everyone’s heads, to let her jiggling bosom and juicy hips become sky-high landmarks for everyone below her, though of course the only man’s lascivious opinion she really cared for was Ron’s.

How tall would be enough to make him become hers at last? Ten feet? Twenty? Fifty? Maybe those figures were unrealistic, but no matter the number, the woman became more certain now than she’d ever been of anything in her whole life that she had to grow bigger. Now full-on massaging her clit to these wild conceits, softly moaning as she became lost in the image and her youthful coworker’s secret desires, Cathy finally spasmed, but didn’t even pause to savor the orgasmic afterglow, and erased all traces of her meddling before marching off into the night. She had serious work to do.

Having accrued eighteen personal days from work, Cathy chose to use all of them now. Obsessed like never before, she spent dozens of hours researching, first immersing herself in the complex world of so-called “giantess” fantasies that apparently so captivated Ron, even finding herself sensuously enamored of these same whims so long as they pertained to making the young man her willing plaything; then she moved on to make the impossible a reality. She knew of course how difficult it would be to find a way to make herself grow, even understood she might never succeed, but still Cathy couldn’t have lived with herself if she didn’t attempt. For many long days and sleepless nights, she delved into dark corners of the internet and made clandestine calls, all to no avail.

Then on her penultimate vacation day, exhausted and verging on giving up hope, everything seemed to happen at once. At first thinking she was being pranked, Cathy received an email answering her wide-reaching pleas for help in evolving to fit Ron’s sky-scraping mental image of her. It seemed one minute she was corresponding with questionable strangers, receiving research notes detailing an experimental procedure she could volunteer for which could theoretically spurt her to over seven feet tall, and the next morning, she was in their grungy off-the-beaten-path laboratory, receiving an exam from the techs, then being placed on a operating table and inserted with various mysterious substances. In the back of her mind, Cathy’s sense of self-preservation briefly nagged, but then she thought again of Ron, pictured him standing far below her, in total vulnerable awe of her raw power, wobbling assets, and leviathan figure, and her apprehension turned back to arousal. Another foot would make all the difference in the world, and he’d never be able to resist. With a nod, she gave them the go-ahead to make her wet dreams come true.