Eve's Boutique - Ch 26

The Art of Social Engineering

“Excuse me miss.  I don’t suppose you serve chamomile?”

The tattooed, purple-haired woman peered suspiciously at them from behind the bar.  “I’m going to need to see some ID.  From both of you.”

“Abigail, let’s just go.”

She put a reassuring hand on Dylan’s shoulder, maintaining eye contact with the woman.  “Oh dear, I think I left it in my other pants.  So did he.  But I promise, all we want is tea.  Are you sure you need to card us?”

The woman looked around the otherwise empty bar, considering the question.  Abigail imagined she was doing the math on whether this was worth the trouble for the measly tip these two kids would leave her.

Abigail slid a twenty-dollar bill across the bar.  “I don’t need any change.  And it doesn’t have to be chamomile – anything herbal will be fine.”

The bartender laughed.  “You two must be really thirsty, huh?  You know there’s a coffee shop like a half a block down the street.  They sell good tea.”

“I know.  We passed it on the way here.  We just really love the ambiance of this place.  Speaking of.  I love that giant front window of yours.  It’s like a big garage door, right?  I’ve seen you open it on summer nights.”

“Yup.  It’s still a little cool this time of year.  We usually leave it closed until at least the middle of May.”

“It’s nice out,” Abigail remarked.  “Any chance you can open it?”

The woman took the twenty.  “I’ll have to ask my manager.”

Service-industry code for, no fucking way.  Oh well, no big loss.

Abigail took Dylan’s hand, and led him to the back of the bar.  There was the sickly-sweet smell of spilled beer all about them, and their shoes stuck to the floor as they walked.

“Seriously,” he asked.  “Why’d you chose this place?  It’s a total shit hole.”

“I have my reasons.”

“I don’t even like tea,” he whined.

“You’ll drink, because I’m telling you to drink it.  Any questions?”

He smiled coyly, clearly enjoying himself.  “No ma’am.”

Their tea arrived.  When Dylan started to reach for his, Abigail put out her hand, making him wait.  She watched from the corner of her eye while the bartender returned to her post.  After a moment the woman pulled out her phone, and started typing away.

Abigail pulled Eve’s emerald vial from her pocket.  While the woman was distracted, she quickly pour the contents into each of their drinks, splitting it fifty-fifty between them.

“What the hell was that?” Dylan whispered, looking alarmed.  “Are you trying to drug me?”

“Of course not, you’re being ridiculous.  I’d never make you ingest a strange, illicit substance.  Especially if I had no idea how it would affect you.”

Dylan relaxed a little.  “Then um.  What was that stuff?”

“Magic.”

“Magic!?”

The woman looked up from behind the bar.  She rolled her eyes, and went back to her phone.

“I’m asking you to trust me.  I know this is weird.  But you’re going to drink your tea, and I’m going to drink mine.  Then you’re going to continue to do exactly as I tell you.  As long as you obey me, good things will happen.  Okay?”

She watched him wrestle with himself.  It was a foregone conclusion, of course.  He was going to do as she asked.  The tension his hesitancy created was just part of the fun.

It made it all the sweeter when he finally lifted his cup.

She did the same.

The two of them drank in silence.  Occasionally, Dylan glanced up from his tea.  Looking for any sign from her about what to expect from whatever she’d given him.

She merely looked back at him, smirking confidently.

Admittedly, it was an act.  She had a hunch this would work, though the results were far from certain.  It was entirely possible they were about ten seconds away from turning into bullfrogs.  She did her best to put that out of her mind.  Something told her that belief was an important part of Eve’s magic.  She couldn’t control her own mind.  But it was fully in her power to influence Dylan’s.

When they’d finished, she pushed their cups aside.  She held both her hands out to him, palms up – the way she’d seen Eve do.

Timidly, Dylan took the invitation.

As she stared into his eyes, Abigail suddenly had the sense that they were breathing in unison.  Inhaling and exhaling in the same moment.  Their bodies mirroring each other.  Postures, facial expressions.  Even their hearts were beating in time, and though she had no way of knowing this, she was certain it was true.

“Dylan,” she whispered.  “You’d like it if I was taller.”

He blushed.  And started to pull away.

Immediately the sense of connection began to fade.

Abigail held him gently, tugging on his hands.  Not forcing him to stay with her.  Urging.

After a few seconds he calmed down, and once more met her eyes.

“Listen to me.  That feeling?  The tightness in your chest, the fluttery little sensation in your throat when you look at me?  Even that squirmy feeling in the bottom of your stomach?  You don’t have to be afraid of any of it.”

He swallowed.  “How do you know I’m feeling that?”

“Because Dylan.  I feel it, too.  You can feel me feeling it.  Can’t you?”

His eyes were very wide.

“It was this way, in your dorm room.  When I told you what to do, and saw you so willing to do it.  That’s what you need to understand – you aren’t the only one who wants this.”

He trembled.  But didn’t look away.

“Try thinking about a big version of me.  Can you do that?”

His expression didn’t change.  But she felt the shift in his desires, felt her own wants react in kind.  There was power filling her.  So much power.

Abigail wondered if this is what it felt like for Eve.  She smiled.

“Fantasize about it now.  Me, getting bigger.  We’ll do it together.”

She let herself imagine it.  The stretching sensation, that began in the pit of her stomach.  Her legs growing longer.  Her head rising toward the ceiling.  The sense of grandeur and beauty that came with growing into a giant.  How it fulfilled some deep, wordless need inside her, to grow.  Especially around someone who truly desired for, lusted after her height.  Their thirst and desperation, quenched with every inch she gained.

She could feel Dylan’s wants alongside her own.  As though the two of them were pushing against an immense weight, and together, succeeding in moving it.

She was already several inches taller.  The luxurious sensation spreading to her toes, the tips of her fingers.  Her body rising, spreading, hungry to fill the space around it.

“You’re doing a good job,” she purred.

“You’re… growing?  Like for really-real?”

“For really-real.”

“Oh my God Abigail, this is amazing, how are you….”

“Not me.  Us.”

She was almost as tall as the first day they’d played together.  Tall enough to look down on him from across the booth.  Casually, she let one of her long legs press against his under the table.  She massaged him gently with her knee, letting her growth push her further up his thigh.

“You never did answer me,” she said.  “When I asked, what’s the largest I’ve ever been in your fantasies.”

He gave her a bashful look.  “You wouldn’t want to be that big.”

“Try me.”

He hesitated for the barest fraction of a second.

“That’s an order,” she snapped.  “Little man.”

A pulse of heat shot through her body.  She threw back her head, fighting the urge to cry out in ecstasy.  In seconds, she was beyond what a person would reasonably think of as merely ‘tall for a woman,’ and back into the realm of the fantastic.  She was taller than Chloe, and her growth wasn’t slowing in the slightest.  She spread out in the booth, her knee continuing to slide further up Dylan’s thigh, until her growth took her as far as she could go, and she felt his hardness pressing through his jeans.

He moaned, and gripped her tighter.

“I’m going to take care of that,” she told him.  “It’s your reward, for your faith in me.”

Dylan stammered for a moment, trying to find his words.  “Please can I touch you instead?  I want to make up for last time, and this is so hot, please Abigail, can I touch you, please?”

She became aware the woman behind the counter was watching them.  Public displays of affection probably weren’t unheard of in a bar like this, though less so at 3 p.m. on a Thursday.  Far from being put off by the woman’s attention, Abigail found herself spurred on by it.  When she felt this way – big, and powerful, and utterly in control of her surroundings – things like that were just fuel for her fire.

When she replied to Dylan, she spoke loudly enough to be certain she was overheard.

“So you want to touch me, huh?”  She pretended to consider this, lips pursed sardonically.  “Maybe.  Tell me this first.  When you fantasize about me growing, am I usually bigger than, say, twelve feet?”

He nodded, hard.

“And am I that tall yet?”

“N-no, but….”

She reached out suddenly and palmed his entire head with her hand, stroking him playfully.  “Then let’s fix that.”

She stood – after a difficult operation to extract herself from the booth – and peered down at him, arms folded across her chest.  She had to be well over eight feet now, and towering over him this way was beyond exhilarating.

“Follow.”

Abigail abruptly turned, and strode toward the middle of the bar.  She found a place as far away from any tables as she could manage, and sat on the floor.

“Stand in front of me.”

He obeyed at once, almost face-planting as he tripped over his own feet.  From behind the bar, the purple-haired woman laughed.

“You see how I have to look up at you, from down here?”

“Y-yeah.”

She pouted.  “That’s not good, Dylan.”

“Sorry!”

“So we said twelve feet.  You think we can manage that?  If we can, you get to touch me.”

The words weren’t fully out of her mouth before she felt herself begin to grow again.

“Hmph.  Good boy.  Now, when I’m looking down at you from here, I’ll be over twice your height.  Then, and only then, can you touch me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He obediently folded his arms behind his back, looking at her with such longing that it made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

She grew.

And faster than she would’ve believed, she’d reached twelve feet.  In her plan – such as it was – this was all the height she had wanted.  She was bigger than Mackenzie, big enough to be the unquestioned center of attention.  But it was so hard to not want more.

“Dylan,” she whispered.  “I’m getting bigger than we agreed.”

He nodded vacantly.

She inched taller.

God.  The look of devotion on his face.  The way his little body swayed helplessly, like a sapling tree in a powerful storm.  The outline of his penis, clearly visible against his jeans.  She knew, intellectually, she had to get this under control, before she got too big.  But she wanted it.  She wanted him.

She made a decision.

“Don’t stop growing me.  But touch me.  Now.”

He came to her, like a drowning man to an oasis.  Pressing himself to her, running his little hands over her body.  Kissing, stroking.  He was desperate, almost mad for her, yet there was still a calculated control to his movements that she found quite admirable.

He sank lower.  She grew.  The two conspired in feeding size into her, any thought of consequences forgotten.  Soon he was no longer able to reach her face, evening standing in her lap, and was forced to resign himself to worshiping her chest instead.  He didn’t seem to mind.

With all his attention focused on her breasts, she felt a subtle shift in his desire.  She gasped.

“Dylan!  Are you making my boobs grow?”

He froze, looking up at her with a hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar expression.

“Holy shit, dude.  These have to be almost D-cups!”

“Oh – s-sorry!”

She laughed.  “No.  It’s okay.  In fact, you better give me a bit more.”

He groaned, his mouth hanging open as he fed his desire into her.  Her breasts swelled faster, even as the rest of her continued to grow.  At this rate the ceiling would be an issue soon, even sitting down.

“I really want to go down on you,” he whimpered.

“Say please.”

“Please can I do down on you Abigail.  Please, please, please.”

She grabbed him by the chin, pinching between her thumb and forefinger, made him look up into her eyes.

“Louder, little man!”

“Please!  Please let me go down on you Abigail, I….”

Behind the bar, something heavy fell.  The sharp sound of breaking glass.

As one, Abigail and Dylan turned to look.

The bartender was bright-red, both hands covering her mouth.

“Sorry!  I’m such a clutz, and I really really didn’t want to interrupt, but that was so hot!”

“That’s alright dear,” Abigail said soothingly.  “I know the effect I can have on people.”

“I’ll, um, close up the shop for you.  And… would it… would it be okay if I kept watching?”

Abigail glanced at the little man in her lap.  He was smiling, his eyes half-lidded, unfocused.

Totally out of it.  The decision was hers, then.

“You can watch,” Abigail told the woman.  “But don’t interfere.”

The woman squealed with delight, and rushed over to lock the door.  “Before you get back to it, can I ask you a question, Miss Archer?”

“Make it quick,” she said, starting to hike up her skirt.

“Of course!  Your boyfriend.  Is he… shrinking?”

Abigail shot Dylan a surprised glance.  The little man was grinning up at her sheepishly, the sleeves of his hoodie long enough to completely cover his hands.  He was at least six inches shorter than she remembered.

Dylan smiled shyly.  In a little hiccup-pulse, he shrank smaller.

Oh neat, Abigail thought.  New kink unlocked.

“It happens sometimes,” she told the woman, not missing a beat.  “It puts some people off, as you can imagine.  For others?  It’s a value-add for sleeping with me.”

“Ohmygosh,” she breathed, clapping her hands to her chest.  “Abby Lore!  I can’t wait to tell the Reddit!”

“You’re kind of a super-fan, aren’t you?”

“I’m trash.  Sorry.”

“It’s fine.  Hush now.”

She turned her attention back to Dylan.  The man was still visibly shrinking, grinning up at her.  “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“If it’s happening,” he said, his words slurring.  “Then you know I am.  And you want it, too.”

“Hm.  You make a fantastic argument, pet.  Now get down there and get to work.”

From behind the bar, the purple-haired woman moaned. 

Abigail pulled her panties down to her ankles, leaned against the wall, covered him with her skirt, and got comfortable.  It took him a while to crawl to where she wanted him – she guessed she was in the fifteen-foot range, and he was less than five.  But eventually, he found his way.

She held herself very still, breathing slow and deep, not wanting to hurt him with a sudden movement.  God, why hadn’t she let him do this the other day?  He was really good!  His tiny hands, his wet little tongue!  She could feel herself coating him, his cheeks and hands growing slick as he worked.  Sometimes he moaned against her, and she felt the vibrations of it travel up her body.  It made her head swim, her toes curl.

She was so in the moment that she didn’t realize how fast she was growing.  Not until her head hit the ceiling.  She swore, drywall dust falling in her hair, but Dylan was still going, and she didn’t want him to stop, couldn’t let him stop.

Abigail reached under her skirt for a moment, supporting her little man, and repositioned.  She lay flat, stretching herself out on the floor.  Her thighs spread across the entire seating area now, pushing tables and booths aside as she opened her legs.  Her feet reached almost to the opposite wall.  This space was getting really confined.  She wouldn’t fit in here much longer.

Dylan wasn’t pacing himself anymore – the tiny man was throwing everything he had into pleasing her.  She was swelling faster in every direction, bending at the knees to keep from punching through the wall.  It took all her attention just to keep from ripping the room apart, and she was so inundated with pleasure she couldn’t see straight.

She became aware he had her entire clitoris in his mouth, sucking on it like a miniature cock as he pressed his little body against her.  He was so small.  So small!  The thought shrank him further, and she grew, and she groaned, and she came – shrieking his name.

In the aftermath, she was able to come at least partway to her senses, and stop desiring to grow.  She needed to get out of this place eventually, and tearing the building down around her would be inconvenient.

She pulled Dylan out from between her legs, grinning savagely down at her little doll man.  She held him for a moment like a teddy bear, and he looked up at her, happy and disoriented.  Without thinking, she began to lick him clean.  It was totally uncalculated – a cat-like instinct of care.  He was tiny, and hers, and a complete mess.  It felt right, and so she did it.

“Dylan,” she whispered.  “I’m gonna suck your cock now.”

He nodded.

“At my size, though?  I’m going to need some help.  Okay?”

He continued to nod.

Abigail reached across the bar, her arms easily spanning the entire room, and set him down on the counter beside the bartender.

“I’m too big to strip him safely.  Would you be a dear?”

The woman looked delighted.  She took hold of his massively oversized hoodie, and pulled it over his head.  As she worked, Abigail tried to judge how small Dylan had become.  He was quite a bit shorter than their new friend, and she wasn’t a tall woman.  Short enough that his head would be beneath her chest if he was standing.  Four feet maybe?  Math was hard.

“He’s really cute,” the woman remarked.  “I hope it’s okay for me to say that?”

“Of course.  As long as it’s okay for me to say you’re pretty cute yourself.”

“Oh my God, oh my God….”

“Can you hold him for me?  He needs to be really still for this.”

The woman gave Dylan a jealous smile, and did as she was asked.

Abigail crawled toward them on her belly, careful to keep her head low.  All this flimsy bar furniture was cheap, she reasoned.  Insurance would cover it.

There, waiting for her, was Dylan’s cock.  It was almost hilariously tiny – not even half the length of her smallest finger, and far thinner.

Still.  It made her mouth water.

Sucking was probably out.  Instead, she lowered her massive head, and let her tongue loll out.  She leaned forward, and lapped at him gently.

Abigail tried to go slow.  But she was too turned on, and he was already close to the edge.  Strangely though, after a few seconds of passionate licking, she found she could actually fit him properly into her mouth.  She pursed her lips around his tiny head, and tugged carefully.  As he came – no more than a thimble-full of him spattering on her tongue – she could actually feel his cock getting bigger in her mouth.

Yup.  Another mutual desire, fulfilled.

The bartender gasped, as Abigail slid him out of her mouth.  It was hard to judge these things.  But even at his reduced height, his dick had to be pushing a foot in length.  More than double its previous size.

“You can make people grow, too?”  The woman sounded awestruck.

“Sometimes,” Abigail admitted distractedly.  She lifted Dylan possessively, hugged him to her chest.

“Can I… I mean, would you be able to….”

“Sweetie.  What’s your name?”

The woman blushed.  “Victoria.”

“Well Victoria, you seem very nice.  As it happens, I’m having a party on Saturday.”

The woman began to jump up and down with excitement.

“And as for what I’m able to do for you, we’ll see what Saturday holds.  But I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“Got it, message received.  Um.”  The woman looked deeply conflicted.  She cast a significant look at the dozing little man.  “Are y’all, like… exclusive?”

The giantess laughed.  “I like him a lot.  But, no.”

“Then, would it be okay if I like… gave him a ride home?  He’s pretty….”  She bit her lip.  “Vulnerable.”

“No.  I’m calling dibs for today.  Speaking of.  Open the garage door for me, Victoria.”

“Yes ma’am!”

She crawled onto the street.  People oo’d and ah’d, and got the hell out of her way.  Once freed, she stood, and brushed her skirt clean.  It felt weird to be dressed so conservatively at her size – big enough to see into third story windows if she stood on tiptoe.  But her stiff white button-up and ankle length black skirt still fit her perfectly.

“Excuse me, Miss Archer?”

A tiny man in an orange uniform waved up at her, smiling politely.

“Yes?  What can I do for you?”

“Are you about to travel?  If so, which way are you going?”

She lifted her fist to her mouth to hide her grin.  Well what a fucking rush that was.  Did the whole world revolve around her now?

“North,” she answered.  “Toward the main campus dorm complex.”

A handful of official vehicles supported her, as she made her way across town.  Her footfalls echoed off the surrounding buildings.  Cars pulled over, and put on their blinkers.  Many of the drivers got out to wave, or take pictures.  At a brisk walk, she found she could easily keep up with mid-afternoon traffic.  If she decided to hurry, she could probably make it across town in record time.

Dylan clung to her chest, hugging her with both hands.  She let her palm surround him.  Keeping him safe as they moved.

“You want to hang out for a bit?” he asked sleepily.  “Maybe like… watch a movie?”

“I can’t,” she told him.  “I have to go rescue my friend.  And then I think I have a date tonight.”

“You’re a busy lady.  Can I text you later?”

“I’d like that.   Want me to put you back to normal size?  I think we can do it together.”

He relaxed against her chest.  “I actually kind of like the idea of being shorter than everyone.  As long as I can tell people you shrank me.”

She slipped him into his dorm window, as people around campus gawked at them.  If her fingers had been a little more dexterous, she might’ve been able to tuck him into bed.  Instead, she pressed her lips against his window, leaving a wet outline of her goodbye kiss.

Back on the street, she waved for attention, until a half-dozen of the official vehicles she’d seen before approached.  All the workers had adorable matching uniforms – some in reflective orange, others in pink.  And one and all, they were incredibly cute.

She gave them Kayla’s description.  Told them it was imperative they find her.  And where they’d begin looking.

Rush hour traffic was picking up, and she knew she would cause backups for hours, traveling right now.  Well, tough.  She had this size, and now it was time to use it.

As she jogged down Clark Street, she found her thoughts drifting back to Dylan.  What stuck in her mind was the way he’d looked at her, when he’d first started shrinking.  The contentment on his face, the total satisfaction.  He was shorter now than she’d ever been.  And far from being just okay with it… he seemed at peace.

Well.  Being little was okay for some people.  But she was twenty-five feet if she was an inch, well and truly a giantess.  And it was time to start throwing her weight around.