Elevator Shapeshifter

As the elevator approached the 13th floor, it began to make an alarming groaning sound. It was like the guttural sounds of an elephant's digestive system one moment and then the next like the sharp teeth of a giant cog slamming continuously against a sheet of metal. When the door opened at last, the noises intensified and became even more difficult to describe. Most of the passengers took this as a sign that it might be better to switch to the stairs. All but two. A man and a woman, by the name of Stan and Miri, remained in the elevator, apparently unfazed by the rather obvious signals that the infernal machine was about to expire, though perhaps they were simply too stubborn to walk. They did not know each other--Stan was an employee of the company working on the 15th floor, and Miri, a humble courier making a delivery that day to the 18th.

The doors closed, and the elevator made a valiant attempt to trundle up to the 14th floor. Little more than 4 seconds elapsed before the din of exhausted metal returned. A few frightening clunks later, the elevator generated an almighty bang and breathed its last metallic breath. The interior lights flickered off and then back on again, lending the space inside an ominous atmosphere for a brief moment. The elevator went silent and still.

"Fuck sake," Stan muttered under his breath.

He was a young man, in relatively good shape, with a cropped beard and neat brown hair. That day, as on all days, he was wearing his customary suit and tie.

Noticing the man's frustration, the young woman turned in his direction,

"This happen often here?" She said, with a noticeable cheer to her voice, that Stan deemed more than a little inappropriate given the circumstance.

Miri was a petite blonde woman, with a slight, albeit athletic build. That afternoon she was wearing a brown button-down shirt bearing the yellow logo of the delivery service she worked for, along with the requisite brown shorts and work shoes. It was probably very unlike the sort of outfit a young, pretty woman like her would choose to wear if she was given the chance, Stan thought to himself.

"No, never," he replied with grim resignation. "It's usually pretty reliable, this building's supposed to be new."

"Oh." Miri seemed surprised. "I've never been stuck in an elevator before--don't really know what you're supposed to do."

Stan made a light grunt in half-acknowledgement of Miri's response and began to look around the elevator for some kind of escape route. Finding the emergency button on the wall, he pressed it firmly with his thumb. It gave no feedback.

"Fucking thing. I have a call in 10 minutes. Shit."

Stan ground his teeth. Miri, on the other hand, ignoring her fellow prisoner's frustration, dropped her package on the floor and began to perform some stretches with her arms and shoulders. It looked like she was warming up for some kind of exercise, even though there was really nothing in the elevator that either of them could do.

"Oh well. I'm sure they know it's stuck," she continued in as carefree a tone as before, suggesting she was either oblivious to, or unbothered by, their predicament. "They'll probably be trying to get it sorted as we speak. How about we just get to know each other? My name's Miriam--call me Miri.",

"Stan," he replied, stretching out a reluctant hand to meet hers.

"So you work in the building?"

"Yeah. Manager. You?"

"Nope, just on delivery", she replied, nodding towards the package she had carelessly dropped on the floor. Stan felt a wave of stupidity flush over him for asking such an obvious question.

"Right, yeah, sorry."

The two strangers sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, but throughout that time, nothing about their environment seemed to change. There was no sound coming from anywhere--nothing to suggest that anyone was coming to help them, or really that anyone even cared that the only elevator in the building had broken down.

"Well, I'm officially late," Stan said at last, noticing the time on his watch.

"Hey, you wanna see something fun?" Miri chimed in, ignoring his grumbling."What?"

"How many fingers do you think I'm holding up" She asked with her hands behind her back.

He scoffed.

"Look, I'm not that bored, I don't wanna--"

"Ugh, just guess, will you?" Miri interrupted, more insistent now.

"Fine, I dunno, 6?"

"Hah, try 22!" She exclaimed and brought out her hands, revealing that, indeed, she was holding up 22 fingers--10 on her left hand and 10 on her right, in addition to her two thumbs.

"What the fuck is this?" Stan spat with derision, trying his best to signal that he was wholly uninterested in playing this game. "You a magician or something?"

"Nah, not really. Look, have a feel."

He grabbed one of Miri's outstretched multi-fingered hands as instructed and inspected it with suspicion. It was true that all of the fingers looked and felt genuine. They were all a normal size and shape, and were connected solidly to her palms--although, truthfully, these did seem to be about twice the size of normal hands.

"Uh huh... Okay then, so how are you doing this? I shook your hand like 5 seconds ago, did you put some kind of glove on?"

"Nope. Look--all real," she replied with an eager grin. Miri then began to wiggle all of them around independently in what Stan supposed was her 22-fingered rendition of jazz hands.

"Well, that's quite a trick. How much did that cost you?" Stan said, more to himself than to Miri. Although in his mind, he continued to want to dismiss this strange woman's attempt at a prank, there was a noticeable tremble to his voice now, suggesting that he was more unsettled by this display than he was willing to admit.

"Oh, nothing. Like I said: all real. It's just a thing I can do, watch..." As she spoke, the fingers seemed to melt into one another like flesh-coloured clay, until they were gone without a trace--reduced to the regular number again. It was as if the extra digits that were there 5 seconds ago had been nothing more than an illusion all along. "See, all back to normal."

Stan knew that something very strange was going on here now.

"Okay, what the fuck is this," he fired back, folding his arms defensively across his chest "You are some kind of magician or something then I take it?"

Miri shrugged. She looked down at her hands, which had also returned to a normal size again,

"I mean if you insist on putting it like that... I guess I am a kind of magician. But I can do all sorts of things... Usually, I don't like to show people in case I get into trouble, but since we're stuck in here together, I just thought it would be fun to show someone for a change."

Stan raised an eyebrow. This innocent-appearing woman was sounding more and more like a lunatic by the second. If he had to guess, he was likely just the victim of some kind of practical joke. He glanced around the elevator, trying to find wherever they must have hidden the cameras.

"Uh huh..." he continued cautiously, deciding to play along for the time being. "What do you mean you can do 'all sorts of things'."

"With my body--I can do all sorts of wild stuff. You wanna see?"

"Not really, but I don't think that's going to stop you at this point."

Miri let out a little harumph to signal that her involuntary magician's assistant was not playing along in the manner that she would have liked.

"Oh, don't be boring, Stanley. Literally no one gets to see this apart from me. Aren't you a little curious?"

He scoffed aggressively,

"It's Stan. And it's not that I'm not curious, I just think you're a little nuts if I'm honest. Besides, why are you so sure I won't just tell the whole world about your little magic tricks that you claim are so secret?"

Stan shot her a snarky smile, hoping this would silence her mad ravings for good. But Miri's smile faded. Her expression became much more serious, and she took a step closer.

"Because no one will believe you, Stan..." She said quietly, in a dark and ominous tone of voice that was a marked shift from her previously chirpy demeanour.

"Believe what? What are you--"

"Let's just cut to the chase. It'll be faster if I just showed you. One moment please."

Before allowing him to respond, Miri took a step back and began to undo the buttons on her shirt.

"What the fuck--why are you--" Stan spluttered, but she just ignored him and continued to undress herself in full view of him and anyone else who could be watching them.

First to come off was her shirt, which Miri whipped off after only undoing the top three buttons. Underneath, she was wearing nothing but a very small turquoise bra. The bra then came off a few seconds later. Then off came her boots, socks, shorts, and finally, a matching pair of turquoise panties. Miri tossed all of her garments into a loose pile in the corner of the elevator beside her package, and stood before him--the man she had met not longer than five minutes prior-- stark naked.

Stan tried to avert his eyes and push away any intrusive thoughts. He knew he shouldn't look, but it was a struggle not to. Though the situation was becoming more unnerving by the second, it was impossible to deny that this slightly mad woman was extremely good-looking. Miri was in incredible shape, with toned limbs and a firm abdomen. Her breasts were small but pert, and her under-area was shaved. Although her body overall was extremely slender and athletic, this only made her unusually large rear end that much more prominent--with its two perfectly rounded buttocks implying a strict and targeted workout regimen.

Stan felt himself grow hot under the collar at being confronted by the beautiful nude woman. Though they were trapped in this elevator with apparently no one coming to rescue them, it was still technically a very public setting. He began to panic.

"Right, I get it. So you are actually a nut job. Are you trying to entrap me in some kind of sexual harassment thing? I've gone to a lot of seminars about this, okay? It's not going to happen. Let me tell you right now: I have zero interest in this. In fact, I could file a suit just for--"

Miri took two steps forwards and placed a hand firmly over Stan's mouth. Somehow the hand felt larger than it should have been, given the woman's petite build.

"Shh. Relax, okay? It's not like I make it a thing of stripping off in front of strange men, but I don't have a spare pair of clothes with me."

"Why would you need a spare pair of clothes?" Stan asked after yanking Miri's suddenly oversized hand away from his mouth. The tone of his voice had changed from frustration to one of unmasked fear.

Miri smiled and looked down at her naked form with a coy expression.

"Well, I have a tendency to ruin my clothes if I get over-excited."

He pushed Miri away from him by her bare shoulders.

"What the hell are you talking about, woman? Can you just explain what you're doing, please?"

But she simply shot him another knowing smirk.

"Yes, I will. But first: humour me." Miri took a step back and situated herself in the centre of the elevator. With her hands placed straight on either side, she beckoned him forward. "What do you think of me?"

"What do I... hold on, what do you mean?"

"My body--do you think I look good?" She asked pointedly. Her face betrayed no hint that this was anything but an innocent question.

Stan paused for a moment before clearing his throat to respond.

"I mean... since you asked: yeah, you look great. You obviously work out... You're hot, but I'm guessing you already knew that."

Stan felt his cheeks flush red. It was a surprise even to him that he had admitted that so readily to this stranger. But Miri smiled back warmly, signalling that her victim was finally on the right track.

"Yeah. I know," she continued with shocking smugness. "But it could always be better, right?"

"Better how?"

"I mean, no one's perfect. Everyone has their ideal for the perfect body, you know?"

Stan's eyes rolled in a circle.

"Sure, but you're looking pretty top-notch as it is. What more could you want?"

Miri shrugged and looked down in study of her own body.

"I always thought my boobies were a little on the small side, don't you?"

"Well..." He began, scratching his head, "I guess, but small boobs aren't a bad thing, are they?"

"Of course not, but these are just tiny, I bet they wouldn't even fill your hands."

Miri took a step closer and thrust out her chest. She didn't say any more, but from the sly nod she gave him, it was quite clear what she wanted Stan to do.

"A-are you sure?" He hesitated, his voice turning to a nervous rasp.

"Mm-hmm." She replied, nodding again at her own chest.

Stan lifted his hands and gently cupped them around each of Miri's breasts. His hands were clearly colder than she was expecting, and as their skin made contact, her body jumped. He felt her small nipples become erect underneath his palms. Indeed, her breasts, while neat and perfectly formed, were much too small for his hands--too small to even get a decent grip on.

"I knew it. So small." Miri confirmed to herself.

"So..." Stan continued after a few seconds pause, his hands still pressed against this stranger's flat chest. "Are you going to explain why I'm touching your tits right now? Weren't you supposed to be showing me a magic trick?"

Miri looked up from her own chest again and stared deep into Stan's eyes.

"Oh yeah. Well, let's see. I reckon we can improve this a little..." Miri shut her eyes tight and began to moan in an overt and exaggeratedly sexual manner "Nnngh... Mmmmhhhmmmm..."

"What the fuck!" Stan exclaimed. He tried to wrench his hands away from Miri's breasts. "Stop doing that! Someone will hear you."

But as he tried to back away from her, Miri grabbed his wrists, forcing him to remain there holding on to her breasts. Then something about her began to change.

Stan felt a stirring beneath his palms. In the gaps between his fingers, he could see that soft pink flesh, the same colour as Miri's skin, was beginning to emerge. The flesh was forcing its way out somehow, propelled by an invisible source that lay somewhere beneath his palms. Before long, the newly created flesh and skin were beginning to overwhelm him, erupting past each gap between his fingers and even spilling out of his grip entirely. Miri continued to moan and wail like she was being sexually ravished to within an inch of her life. Her breasts had expanded in size well beyond a handful. No, they were many handfuls in volume now and still growing. With every successive moan, Miri's breasts seemed to surge outwards in yet another explosive burst of growth. Her breasts were like giant floppy skin-covered water balloons, being filled with untold quantities of fluid, the origin of which was nowhere to be seen. After only a few seconds of this inhuman transformation, they had grown well past a healthy double-D, but Miri didn't bother to pause for long as this impressively busty version of herself. Instead, she kept on growing herself, and growing herself some more, until her breasts approached a proportion that was considerably more extreme.

Stan finally managed to tear himself away from Miri's grip, and she staggered backwards. The newly enlarged breasts tumbled free from his hands and slapped heavily against her abdomen. They were easily thirty times the size they were mere seconds ago--enormous things, heavy and engorged, each one the size and weight of a bowling ball yet deformed into massive drooping teardrops by the downward pull of gravity. Miri looked down and laughed to herself.

"Hah! So what do you think?" She asked in a matter-of-fact way, as if the superhuman feat of transformation she had just performed was little more than a party trick.

"You--how the fuck did you do that!" Stan roared.

Miri began to giggle, each laugh causing the flesh of her ginormous breasts to jiggle like over-excited jelly.

"You know, I don't really think I can answer that. I don't really know how I can do it. I just can."

"You mean grow your tits like that? What do you mean you don't know? It--it makes no fucking sense." Stan's voice was trembling.

"Yeah, you're right, actually. It doesn't. I guess I'm just weird like that. What was it you called me? A magician?"

"Look at the size of those things! You are not a magician... I don't even know what to call you. Fucked up is what you are."

Miri placed each hand under a breast and began to toss them up and down with the same mild disinterest as one would have when testing the weight of a couple of bags of sugar in a grocery store.

"Oof. You're right, they're pretty freaking heavy like this, I have to admit. As fun as they are to play with at this size, that's the main reason I don't go around with big old titties all the time. Absolutely killer on the back."

Rubbing his eyes, Stan began to pace around the elevator to try and jolt himself back to reality.

"Look, let me get this straight. I'm not just imagining things here, am I? You can really just change the size of your breasts at will?"

Miri nodded.

"That's correct. But not just that, of course."

"What do you mean?"

"I can change other stuff too. Anything really, like my whole body."

"No way. You cannot change your whole body like that."

"Sure I can." She gave him a simple smile. The madness clearly was very much not ending here.

"Anything? So what do you even look like then? What is your natural body... How did you find out about this?"

Miri giggled quietly to herself. She let go of her breasts, allowing them to fall down under their own weight again and slap against her stomach. She then began to fiddle with her hair in an unmistakably seductive manner.

"Definitely not this one. I was pretty ugly actually to begin with. Kind of spotty and a bit fat. Ratty hair. This little blonde bombshell standing in front of you right now is a pet project of mine, something I have been working on for a while. Oh, and I'm not actually in my twenties, by the way, I'm actually 53 years old, should probably get that out of the way first of all."

"You're 53?" Stan spat back, incredulous.

"Oh yeah. I've been doing this for a while. I actually found that my body could do this ages ago, if you can believe that. My therapist says I'm a little messed up from it. Probably why I'm so maladjusted and enjoy stripping off in front of strangers."

"B-but you said no one knew about this?"

Miri giggled again. The feigned girlishness was now coming across as rather peculiar if her true age was to be believed.

"Oh no, a few people do, sure. But I make it so they only find out in situations like this--situations where no one would ever believe them if they went and told everyone. I mean, are you really going to go and tell your friends you met a chick in an elevator who could give herself enormous boobies whenever she wanted?"

Stan put his head in his hands.

"I must be going insane. This is just... I mean, what even are you? Are you an alien? A demon? Humans can't do this shit... And why the hell are you working as a courier? Surely you could make better use of this fucked up ability. If you really can do all this, that is."

Miri's eyes widened.

"Ahhhh... of course. Yeah, no, I'm not actually a delivery girl. This is just a costume. I'm a sex worker--you wouldn't believe how much you can make when you can look literally any way you want."

Something about that answer made a realisation materialise in Stan's mind.

"Fucking hell. Of course. Let me guess... Mr. Bush?"

Miri winked.

"Uh-huh. Yep, your boss is probably pretty pissed that his precious Veronica is late for his 12 o'clock appointment."

Stan couldn't help but laugh.

"I knew that guy was a creep. But bringing a prostitute into the office, that's gotta be a new low... Who is Veronica then? One of your 'characters', I'm guessing?"