Eve's Boutique - Ch 15

 Eve's Apartment

Eve lived in a small Uptown apartment.  Abigail had to crawl and turn sideways to get through the door – she was getting pretty good at that – but once inside the ceiling was tall enough for her to stand.  The main room was sparsely decorated, without even a table or a place to sit down.  Just a few potted plants, and several pieces of cat furniture.

From the window, a tiny calico cat jumped down, chirping in greeting.  She trotted over to make her manners, presenting herself for each woman to pet her.  Then wandered off to lie in a choice late-morning sunbeam.

“Okay,” Eve said.  “Show me what you picked out.”

Abigail opened her shopping bag, and spread out her new clothes on the kitchen counter.  A pair of ankle boots, a red crop top, and a pair of pre-stressed jeans.  Each was a wildly different size from the others.  Eve had explicitly told her not to worry about picking clothes that fit.  If the witch was up to something, Abigail wanted to test her limits.

There were several burned out candles on the counter, arranged in a rough circle.  At the center was a simple plastic spray container.  It looked like something for keeping the kitty out of unwanted places.  Eve grabbed it, and gave each of Abigail’s new garments a single spritz.

“Do you mind if I try these on?”

Abigail snorted.  “Be my guest.”

The witch turned her back, and began to strip down to her bra and panties.  Abigail averted her eyes out of politeness.  Yet there was something about the way Eve moved that suggested she didn’t mind if Abigail watched.  And so, almost reluctantly, she did.  The woman really was startlingly attractive, with a narrow waist and long, willowy arms.  There was a certain fragility about her, yet her strong back and shoulders suggested she was tougher than she looked.  Abigail wondered if you got those muscles from stirring cauldrons.

Eve grabbed each item of clothing, and without hesitation, pulled them onto her body.  There was no visible change to the garments – but miraculously, each fit perfectly.  Even the jeans, which would’ve been tight on Abigail back when she was four-foot-seven.

Eve began to parade across the apartment.  Arms spread wide, turning like she was on a catwalk.  She stopped directly in front of Abigail, and grinned smugly up at the giantess.  Then unceremoniously stripped back to her undies.

She gathered the clothes, which were now back to their original sizes, and offered them to Abigail.  “Your turn.”

“You can’t be serious.”

The witch lifted the clothes a little higher, giving her a patient smile.  “Come on, Abby.  You know what’s going to happen.  This isn’t even the most magical thing you’ve seen in the last twelve hours.  Get dressed.”

Abigail took the garments.  She ducked under the ceiling fan as she prepared to undress, and suddenly remembered she was completely bare under her bedsheet.  Somewhat embarrassed, she turned her back, and let it fall around her ankles.

She could almost feel the witch’s eyes upon her, as she shook out her jeans.  “I should’ve bought some underwear,” she grumbled.

“You can borrow some of mine if you like.”

“I’ll pass.”

The jeans were impossibly tiny as she attempted to pull them up her massive thigh.  And then, they simply fit.  More than fit.  They conformed to her as though they’d been expertly tailored by an incredibly skilled craftsman.  The shirt fit as well, and even without socks, the boots were the most comfortable piece of footwear she’d ever owned.

Eve was sitting on the kitchen counter, kicking her feet happily as she watched.  “One spray on any article of clothing, and until the stroke of midnight it will fit whoever wears it.”

“This is… amazing!”  Abigail turned this way and that to look down at herself.  She spun in place – startling the cat, who trilled in agitation and ran to the bedroom to hide.

“Do you like it?  Really?”

“Yes Eve!  I really do.  Some of your potions have done more dramatic things, sure.  But this is… incredible!  It’s like.  I finally feel at home in my own body.  You need to mass produce this stuff!  Everyone should know how this feels.”

“Magic doesn’t work like that.  That bottle is one-of-a-kind.”

Abigail stopped suddenly.  She gave the witch a suspicious look.  “Oh.  So the price is going to be high, then.  Too high for me to afford, and we’re going to negotiate for an even bigger favor this time.  Eventually I’ll be bargaining away my first-born son.  That’s the way things are going to progress between us, isn’t it?”

Still smirking, Eve jumped off the counter.  She came to stand chest-to-tummy with Abigail.  “Take my hands.  Like in the park.”

Abigail did.  Eve was warm to the touch, and the moment Abigail held her, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.  Almost as if Eve were carrying an electric current.

“You want that bottle?”

“Eve….”

“Forget the price.  You want it?”

“Yes.”

“Feel it.  Feel that want.”

Hesitantly, Abigail obeyed.  She imagined how great it would be to put on clothes that felt this perfectly, every single day.  How snug, and comforting, and affirming.  She could share it with Chloe.  And Kayla.  Maybe even Mackenzie.  No more awkward trips to department store dressing rooms.  What’s more, she could let herself be whatever shape she pleased – bigger, smaller, slim or strong – and still wear whatever she liked.  The joy in that idea.  The freedom.

Eve groaned.  Her small hands gripped Abigail with surprising strength.  Then she released, and stepped back.

“Okay,” Eve purred, running her hands through her hair.  “Paid in full.  The bottle’s yours.”

The witch leaned against the counter, breathing deep.  Her eyes were wide and very green, and her pupils were enormous.  She looked somehow younger.  Her skin glowed with vitality, and her long black hair shined with a new luster.  Nothing about her was actually different, not in a way Abigail could put her finger on.  Yet some part of her instinctively reported that Eve was… more.

“Really,” Abigail whispered.  “What are you?”

The smaller woman smiled dreamily.  “I’m really your friend.”

“No.  I need an answer, if I’m going to keep having dealings with you.  Did we just make a pact with the devil?  Did you steal part of my soul?  You obviously got something from me.  What was it?”

Eve let out a dramatic sigh.  “And now all of a sudden you want to spoil the mystery?”

Abigail made a get-on-with-it gesture, twirling her finger.

“Fine.  Do you know how it feels, when you give someone the perfect gift?  The way their eyes light up, when they look at it, then look at you?  A need, or want, from someone you care about, utterly and completed fulfilled – and you’re the person that’s responsible.  That warmth in your chest?  The satisfaction, and pride, at being the one who gave them exactly what they always, truly, wanted?”

Abigail said nothing.

“It’s like that with me.  Only.  I can… sense it.  Taste it, or maybe smell is closer.  It’s something in the air, anyway – what the people around me want, even if they don’t know themselves.  It just feels so good, to grant those wishes.”

She looked up at Abigail, her expression serious.  “So like I said.  I’m your friend.”

“You know what I want,” Abigail said slowly.  “And you’re giving it to me.  Like.  You’re saying I wanted to be huge like this?”

Eve nodded.

“And you get power from granting my wishes?”

“Something like that.”

Abigail considered this.  “I know it’s bad form to ask.  But I don’t suppose I could request a demonstration?  Tell me something else I want?  You don’t have to give it to me, but….”

Eve closed her eyes.  She tilted her head, sniffing, with almost the expression of a wine aficionado trying to determine a particular vintage.

When she looked back at Abigail, her expression was seductive, and nervous.  “You’re phrasing it that way, because you want me to be the one to broach the topic.  There are things you want.  From me.  You’re still on the fence about it, but if you asked… I would.  Um.  Say yes.  Like, there’s a reason I haven’t put my dress back on yet.”

Abigail lowered herself, and sat cross-legged on the floor.  In this position, she was once again looking up at the witch.  “Why does it always have to be word games between us?”

Eve looked chagrined.  “Because that’s how you wanted it.”

The giantess stared at her blankly.

“Anyway,” Eve went on, looking away and speaking quickly.  “Your afternoon class is starting soon, and hey, it’s an Elijah day.  Thanks for coming over.  If you decide what you want, you know where to find me, and….”

Abigail reached out.  With one hand, she enveloped Eve’s palm up past her wrist.  The other, she placed on the small of the woman’s back.  She drew her closer, until Eve was standing in the space between Abigail’s folded legs.

Eve’s eyes were very bright, her blush an almost neon pink on her pale cheeks.

“What about you, Eve?” Abigail whispered.  “What do you want?”

“I already said–”

“I’m hesitating,” Abigail interrupted.  “Because if you’re only doing this to grant my wish, then I’m not into it.  So.  Do you feel it too?”

Eve was a long time in answering.

“It’s hard to know, sometimes.  With everyone around me, all that they want.  It’s hard to separate myself from it.  I get confused.  But I know I like talking to you, and I smile whenever you come into the shop.  And I think you’re attractive, and I….”

Abigail cupped the tiny woman’s cheek.  Dipped her chin.  And kissed her, very gently on the mouth.

A catlike squeak of pleasure escaped from the back of Eve’s throat, and she almost seemed to melt against Abigail.  It was a simple kiss.  A large set of lips, pressed against small ones.  Yet Abigail found herself nearly overwhelmed by its intensity.  It was less an act of love, or even lust.  More, an affirmation.  And perhaps, a promise of more to come.

“I really do have to go,” Abigail breathed, still holding Eve so close that their lips brushed as she spoke.

“I know,” Eve whispered back.  “Elijah.”

Abigail laughed gently.  “I can like two things.  A lot more than two, it seems.  Are you okay with that?”

Eve nodded emphatically.

“Want to hang out later this week?  Just the two of us?”

“Yeah.  That sounds really good.”

“And the party this Saturday.  I’d like if you came.”

The witch opened her eyes.  She scowled, looking suddenly annoyed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Eve said.  “Not yet anyway.  I formally accept your invitation.  But… I’m afraid I’m going to need a plus-one.”