To George's mind, truly facing up to the changes to her body were somehow avoidable in the fact that they were so unbelievable. Whether her subconscious mind had convinced her that such things simply weren't possible and, therefore, best ignored, or whether she was simply too distracted by her raging hormones and the new pleasure to be derived from grinding her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she couldn't have said. But after her tongue actually orgasmed, after she'd had that incredible and tasty experience, there was no longer any way to deny what was happening to her. Elora had done something to her, had changed her,
mutated
her somehow and, staring at the tip of her horrifyingly incredible new tongue in the Reverend Muren's suite, the shocking reality that her body was no longer exactly human hit her square in the face like the last spurt of its jizz.
It was bad enough that Bess and Muren knew her breasts had inexplicably gotten bigger and, while her racing mind couldn't devise a story that would ever explain that, it was her mutated tongue that truly worried her. After all, nobody would truly care about how or why her breasts had grown for the simple reason that nobody complained about large breasts. Because of this, the question of how or why it had happened was ultimately unimportant. Her more pronounced hips followed the same reasoning, but there was just no kidding herself into thinking that people would have the same ultimate attitude about her tongue should it ever be discovered. Even larger than this was her own fear of what was happening to her, more so of the fact that she so enjoyed her new tongue's orgasm and how, in the back of her mind, there existed the slithering opinion that this change was a good thing.
This was what had caused her sudden and panicked flight from Muren's suite. At the time, she didn't even know where she was going, not until she found herself in the outer corridor, alone but for her own fear and confusion, her mind franticly searching for someone who could help. Of course, there was only one person who could help and that person, ironically, was Elora Sasser. So, her panic not giving way to rational thought, not even to remind herself to cover her big, perky breasts, she hurried down the corridor to the stairs, descending them with the tasty flavour of coconut still in her mouth while her tongue seemed to soften, shrinking into itself, retracting into the back of her mouth.
It wasn't until she found herself in the lobby, face to face with Nancy, Eloise and the attractive, smirking Assistant Manager that she remembered how her beautiful young body was exposed. Even then, this was only because they were staring at her new chest, Nancy with surprised awe, her aunt with much the same expression, but with unmistakable desire added in. As George noticed their attire, this desire became contagious as her eyes roamed over Nancy's body, barely clad in the smallest mini-skirt and halter top in the world, both white and thin enough to allow her best friend's darker nipples and pubic hair to be seen through them. Said nipples were braless and erect while the very bottom of her crotch was visible. Not wearing panties, Nancy's snatch was clearly wet and, despite the recent questions in George's mind regarding her friend's personality, she couldn't help but feel freshly turned on by this.
Her tongue twitched as though it had a mind of its own, tingling and thickening a little as her eyes moved to Eloise. The sexy mature was wearing a tight, fuchsia dress with long sleeves and a mid-thigh hemline. What at first appeared to be pink polka dots covering the sexy, scoop necked dress, were actually holes and, wearing no bra, Eloise's left nipple had found one to poke itself through. The fat, erected bud seemed to eye George, daring her to come closer and-
"Perfect timing, Miss Fayne," the Assistant Manager suddenly declared, startling horny George almost out of her hormonal trance. "Your two friends and I were just about to step into my office for a little chat about the ramifications of trespassing on hotel property. I strenuously suggest that you join us."
Hildebrandt's office was a little larger than what one might expect. Dim lit, the dΓ©cor was much the same as the rest of the hotel with the expected mahogany paneled walls, crystal inlaid copper accents, and antique furnishings. Plants and bookshelves lined the walls and, though there was no window, the space and cozy warmth forbade any claustrophobic feel. As Hildebrandt moved to the large, ornately carved wooden desk, she gestured the three hotel guests to a plush, deep maroon couch with a dark brown, oval mat on the hardwood floor in front of it.
Picking up the receiver of a black telephone, she pushed a button, waited a moment as her three guests nervously seated themselves, then stated, "Find Mr. Cranston and come to the office immediately. We have a little situation that needs sorting, and I think at least two witnesses should be present in case I decide
not
to call Sherriff Durant. ... I don't care, I said
immediately."
With Eloise between she and Nancy, George did her best to pull her blouse closed but, with her new bust line and without the needed buttons, it would never stay closed without her hands keeping it that way. Wide eyed, she watched Hildebrandt as she took a seat behind her desk, not even noticing Eloise's repeated glances down her compromised blouse. Her mind leapt from the worry of what kind of consequences she was about to pay for hers and Nancy's trespassing in the basement to her dreaded need to find Elora. Meanwhile, her hormones seemed to escalate. She hadn't gotten off, at least not in the normal human way, during her threesome with Bess and Reverend Muren, and this failure was in part responsible for her intense arousal, rivaled only by her fears of whatever Hildebrandt had in mind.
Just as worried as George where the consequences of trespassing was concerned, Nancy couldn't help glancing past her aunt at George's bust line. Her friend's breasts looked bigger than hers, had obviously even burst from her bra and blouse, indicating that whatever had caused this growth had happened at least somewhat quickly. She remembered a recent, brief conversation the two had had regarding George's bust line, noting the irony as she looked down at her rounder hips and the way they very nicely filled out a pair of jeans that used to have a somewhat relaxed fit. Sitting with her knees together, she suddenly remembered her own scant attire. Looking down, she saw that, in her seated position, her dark blonde pubic hair was exposed. Feeling vulnerable, she tried to pull her micro miniskirt down, but was unable to effect much improvement in that area. Glancing at her aunt, she discovered Eloise looking down George's open blouse as her friend made a valiant effort at holding it together. She still didn't seem aware of the nipple that had found its way through one of the many little holes in her dress.
Dressed the most decently and not being personally guilty of anything herself, Eloise was more composed than the teenage girls to either side of her, though she had a vested interest in saving them from any serious consequences to their trespassing, if possible. Of as much concern to her at the moment was George's incredible transformation. While she'd always been attractive, she now had a subtle, yet raw sexuality that was impossible for Eloise to ignore, and it wasn't only the exciting changes to her body. The girl exuded sexuality from every pore, every movement and expression and, for Eloise, even just sitting beside her was an immense turn on. She wasn't sure if George herself was even aware of this change, beyond the physical ones such as her slightly swelled hips and the beautiful and perfect breasts that attempted to proudly thrust from her open blouse. She wanted to ask her about them, about what she'd done, or what had been done to her to bring them about, wanted to make sure she was alright and kiss her so lovingly while removing the rest of her clothes for a much closer inspection of her beautiful and alluring young body before-
"So..." Hildebrandt began as she walked around to the front of her desk, taking a seat on its corner and crossing her long, shapely legs as she continued. "Since you missed our discussion out in the lobby, Miss Fayne, perhaps Miss Drew would like to bring you up to speed?"
Looking directly at Eloise, there was little doubt of which 'Miss Drew' she'd indicated. After an uncomfortable pause, the schoolteacher cleared her throat, adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses on her nose before looking at George to stammer, "George, dear, uh... as you know, you and Nancy were caught in the basement and, apparently, that area is off limits to hotel guests. This is being taken very seriously by Mr. Carmody and Miss Hildebrandt and, in fact, there's been some talk of having you two charged with trespassing."
Eloise found it hard to concentrate around the alcohol she'd drunk and her hormones which were only intensified by how George sat beside her, hands now clasped in her lap and no longer even trying to cover her chest. Her eyes kept straying downward to her beautifully, so innocently bared orbs and it was all she could do not to put her hands on them, put her hands all over her niece's best friend as the girl looked back at her.
As far as George was concerned, the possibility of formal charges being levelled against her were of little concern in light of her recent mutation and, while Eloise went on, the only thing other than this that was of any real concern was her intense sexual arousal.
"So, uh, I've agreed that both you and Nancy will be punished for what you've done and that's why we're here. We're working out what sort of punishment Miss Hildebrandt might find suitable. Do you understand, dear?"
George nodded, her eyes again caught by Eloise's fat, erected nipple peeping at her through one of the polka holes that covered her dress as Hildebrandt clarified.
"Actually, I'm not sure that the word,
punishment,
is entirely appropriate here. I rather think the word,
reparations,
would be much more so. While possibly convincing young Miss Drew and Miss Fayne that they shouldn't go snooping around where they don't belong, punishment wouldn't actually make up for their crime."
"Fine," Eloise stiffly allowed. "Then what sort of
reparations
would make you happy?"