Written by Furlough :: [Sunday, 20 November 2016 11:17] Last updated by :: [Sunday, 20 November 2016 15:27]
This story is something of a refurbishment of a shorter tale I started doing for brawna.org a few years ago, back before they ran into technical complications. That story was called “The Wooden Box”, and indeed, the titular object which served as the plot's main catalyst was the biggest takeaway, as the women in that story were high school students rather than desk jockeys.
I hope the people here will be able to enjoy what I've decided to rework it into. I suspect that one of the biggest changes this time around will be (I hope) me working fast enough to get the whole thing out before something unfortunate happens.
Sweeping aside some rags and boxes to make room, Rose hurriedly lifted up the heavy box-like object from the floor and set it on the table. She had no idea what it was, but it was hers now.
Rose had moved into town just a few days before after landing a local job. Having secured a small apartment's rent for her immediate needs, she had set about decorating the place on a budget, and had gotten a tip from one of her new colleagues about a warehouse that sold off packages of old furniture and such for dirt cheap – they got the stuff from salvages of old abandoned houses, or places that had been foreclosed on, or something like that; the guy she heard it from seemed awfully hazy on the details. The stuff was packed up so tight, however, that it didn't really give their buyers a chance to see everything they got before they bought it, but the value seemed to be right, and so Rose went about getting a few boxes' worth of stuff.
She definitely hadn't seen the large, blocky object in any of the boxes before actually getting home and unpacking them, though. Now, she had no choice but to stare at it in bewilderment as she tried to figure out just what it was – its outward shape was vaguely reminiscent of an old vintage tube radio, and indeed, it seemed to have a few dials set on the front, but aside from that, the only other thing that protruded from the surface of the mahogany-coloured box (it was some weird metal alloy that was just painted to look like wood, she had observed) was a spiral cord which connected to what looked like a large pair of headphones.
Based solely on its outward appearance, Rose could not imagine that it could have any purpose beyond playing music or sounds of some sort. However, when she leaned in close to look at the five dials on the front of the thing, her puzzlement only grew. Each was set beside a small rectangular bar with several notches along it, and just like with old radios, twisting the dial would adjust the position of a little red line along the bar's length. Unlike old radios, however, rather than this serving to adjust the frequency the thing was tuned to, there were no numbers written on the bars, but rather, it only had a small engraving over each one, whose words – stuff like “perk”, “cuts”, and “winsome” – did little to clarify their meaning in Rose's eyes.
Regardless, Rose had been taking care of unpacking and moving stuff about for a while, and decided she could do with a break. Pulling up a chair, she grabbed the pair of headphones and gingerly put them on. At first, she heard nothing, but upon closer inspection, she spotted a small on/off switch on the front of the box-like object, near its underside. She turned the thing around one final time, partially to make sure there was nothing else she had missed on its surface, partially to see if it had some kind of battery slot or electrical adapter as it surely must if it were to actually do anything – but she saw nothing. Still unsure of what she was expecting, but rationalising that even if the thing turned out to be some kind of weird torture device, at least it wasn't plugged in, Rose flicked the switch to the ON position.
Rose waited for a few moments in which she fancied she continued hearing nothing more than silence, but slowly began to perceive a quiet hum in her ears, which slowly escalated into a bizarre melody. If she were to describe it, it was not unlike the vibrations left in the air in the moments just after the ringing of a bell, or the tapping of a spoon against an empty glass, but with no such noise preceding them, and somehow arranged in a way that seemed to her pleasant and calming. Without realising it, Rose closed her eyes and simply revelled in the strange feeling of relaxation that had quickly come to overpower her, lost in reverie for a small while.
Eventually, Rose lazily opened her eyes, feeling incredibly refreshed – as though she had just awakened from a full good night's sleep, even though she was sure she couldn't have been sitting for more than a few minutes. The strange sounds that emanated from the headphones had ceased. Rose's gaze wandered toward the box-like object, noticing that the switch had somehow returned to the OFF position – probably because of some timed spring mechanism or something, she figured. Enjoying the feeling of being refreshed that had so suddenly come over her, Rose swiftly began stirring to stand up and resume her house-decorating duties when she began to notice something strange.
As she leaned forward to stand up from her chair, Rose noticed her balance shift in an unusual way – not in a way that seemed awkward, but rather, in that it was surprising to her how even that brief motion seemed far less taxing than what she had expected. Years of drudging office work and general lack of exercise had left Rose in a rather unfit condition. Each morning, when she got out of bed, she had to contend with a general feeling of unpleasant grogginess, which was usually replicated to a lesser extent whenever she got up from a sitting position – but at that precise moment, the motion felt like it took no more effort than lifting a finger (and the typing skills Rose had found herself forced to develop had left her with quite a deft set of fingers).
The sensation was truly brief, but it still made enough of an impact on Rose's mind that she felt compelled to look down at herself. Almost instantly, she began coming across a new series of surprises, the most immediately obvious one being the glorious pair of flesh mounds that now crowned the top of her chest. Rose had always been naturally at least a couple notches above modest in that department, but even so, the protruding mountains of flesh she now saw upon peering down at herself were a completely new sight for her. Not only were they noticeably larger —a fact that even the thick sweater she had put on was ill-suited to conceal – but they seemed firmer and perkier than she had ever felt them before. She couldn't help herself, and soon came out of her observational trance and began fondling them, finding her newly endowed chest-melons to be topped with a layer of soft skin, but at the same time, being firm and unyielding.
Something else that Rose quickly noticed was that her breasts now appeared to be quite a bit more sensitive to her touch than her memory served – subtly at first, but producing a delicious tingling sensation that led her to subconsciously pile on the pressure and begin to massage her mounds more vigorously, until her motions came to be not unlike those of a baker kneading two large lumps of dough, her breathing growing heavier by the moment. After being enraptured like this for about a minute, Rose slowed down, her attention shifting to something new. Much like when she had stood up, she knew that she was in bad enough shape that whenever she truly began exerting her arms, even if just for a few moments, the flab and general unfitness of their condition would cause them to start feeling sore; and yet, after that furious tit-massage – which had allowed her to confirm that her newly enhanced mounds were extremely firm indeed – her arms still felt full of energy.
Her curiosity now accompanied by a deep thrill, Rose carefully began feeling up her arms, and was pleasantly surprised when she did not find any of the small pockets of hanging, doughy underflab she was so used to, but instead was met with the two hardest guns she had ever had the opportunity of feeling with her own hands. Wanting to see more, she began to roll up her sleeves – the fabric of her sweater did not allow for her to do so much farther than her elbow, but what she saw right then was more than enough. Her forearms now boasted a fabulous muscle tone that made her new strength and stamina apparent to any observer, and though concealed, Rose could feel with overwhelming clarity that she had biceps to match. Flexing her arm absent-mindedly, she grew giddy with delight as she could both watch and feel her new muscles bulge with newfound definition and power.
No longer having any doubts as to what had happened to her, Rose scurried over to a mirror to check out the rest of her improved body, hurriedly stripping down to her underwear as she did so. What she saw left her stunned and amazed – she had been transformed from a frumpy, forgettable salarywoman in her mid-thirties into some kind of drop-dead gorgeous fitness supermodel at the end of her teens who had been extremely fortunate when it came to genetics. Not only had she gotten the rest of the hardbody package – rippling washboard girl-abs, sleek, muscular legs, and an ass to defy both belief and gravity – but her face had been transformed as well, any semblance of a wrinkle or imperfection completely gone, leaving behind a smooth, devastatingly beautiful and youthful frame. Her hair, which had gone from a mousy, dirty clump to a pert, lustrous shower of shining threads, now served to accentuate the whole of her beauty, which helped bring Rose's attention to the fact that she had undeniably gotten slightly taller.
Faced with this new sight, Rose's train of thought found itself at a standstill. Her mind had just been bombarded with a truckload of overwhelming sensations, not the least of which was a feeling of intense lust. Hardly even aware of it, Rose slowly began moving one of her sleek, powerful hands towards her crotch, but suddenly stopped herself as a thought burst into her mind. She had not been able to think about it amid the rapture of her self-exploration, but mentally retracing her steps, Rose could have no doubt that whatever had happened to her must have been caused by that strange radio-like box she had gotten by mere chance.
Scrambling back to the table where she had set the box-like object, Rose picked it up and turned it over once more, taking particular care to examine the front of it more closely. The dials and the bars they adjusted had held no initial significance to her, but now, she took more time to concentrate on the words that labelled each bar. From top to bottom, they were “perk”, “cuts”, “spunk”, “lerch”, and “winsome”. As she turned over these words, a vague series of memories came to her – since she had first looked them over, she hazarded a guess that they were all slang euphemisms of some sort, and thinking about it more carefully, she managed to determined what each of them meant. Her newly endowed chest and backside had certainly grown “perkier”, her new muscle definition would no doubt lead many to say she was “cut”, and she was feeling far “spunkier” and more energetic than she had ever felt before. She also remembered hearing the other two words in some context or another which betrayed their meaning: “lerch” and “winsome” referred to height and beauty respectively, both things with which she had undoubtedly been provided in surplus.
Faced with this new information, Rose grew ever surer that the mysterious box had been responsible for her wonderful transformation, but now her attention was captured by something else. Examining the bars, she could see that each of the little red lines along them seemed to be set at an arbitrary position right around the middle. However, each bar also appeared to have an indicator of intensity set in its back – a long, red right triangle that covered the entirety of the bar, with the lowest point of its hypotenuse set all the way on the left, the highest all the way on the right. If Rose's suspicions were correct, then these dials must adjust what degree of each of the characteristics she had discovered was infused into whoever used the box.
Rose's head was now swimming with ideas on what she would do next. Leaning on the cautious side for the time being, she carefully turned each of the dials down very, very slightly, then sat down on the chair beside the table, put on the headphones, and turned the switch to ON. In moments, she began experiencing something very different from what she had felt the first time she had tried the device; she heard a sound that seemed to her like some kind of buzzing, not unlike what one would hear coming from an object conducting a strong electric current, that contrasted greatly with what she had heard before – this sound seemed to contract and absorb the weird energies of the box, rather than exude them like the other sound had appeared to. The sound was accompanied by a slight feeling of discomfort, but nothing strong enough that Rose would call it pain. It went on for about thirty seconds before the sound gradually came to a stop and Rose heard a slight clicking sound. Turning to look, Rose's earlier suspicion was confirmed, as she observed that the power switch had automatically snapped back to the OFF position.
Standing up, Rose could definitely appreciate something different with how she felt, although the change had not been nearly as extreme as the first. Carefully stepping back over to the mirror, Rose could see that not much had really changed with how she looked —her muscle had lost some definition, her breasts and butt had shrunk a little, her height had dwindled slightly – but overall, she could say with absolute confidence that she was still far better-looking than how she had started out. Determined to see if her theory was correct, Rose returned to the machine, turned down the dials as low as they could go, took a deep breath, and repeated her experiment. This time, the feeling of discomfort was sharper, like a feeling of being sore weighing down upon her entire body, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come when the sounds emanating from the headphones began to die out. Returning to the mirror, Rose confirmed what she had suspected: while her appearance had deteriorated significantly compared to what she had looked like after her first run with the machine, she was still quite a bit prettier than she had been before using it, her looks now more in line with an older, traditionally sexy secretary than a youthful bombshell.
Even in her downgraded state, Susan could not help but feel thrilled, as her little experiment had reassured her that there was no way for her to go back to her old, tired state, she hoped, ever again – and besides, she had saved the best for last. Returning to the box, Rose quickly felt a giddy tingling feeling spread across her midsection as she adjusted the dials once more, this time turning each one of them up to the maximum level. Smiling, the thrilling feeling that now dominated her body and mind made her tremble slightly as she sat down and placed the headphones back on her head, then reached out to turn the power switch back to ON.
As soon as she did so, she felt herself being filled by an overwhelming sensation of pleasure, which easily dwarfed what she had felt during her first transformation. This time around she did not pass out, her energy and stamina being greater than what she had started out with, but rather was fully aware of the sensation all throughout. It felt like every molecule of her body was being massaged vigorously, each of her nerve endings being stimulated to feel pleasure beyond anything she had ever dreamed before.
Though she now knew the process took less than a minute each time, the overpowering feeling of pleasure seemed like it would go on forever until it was gradually suppressed by the conclusion of the transformation. Rose got to her feet again, her muscles positively humming with newfound power, and eagerly wandered over to the mirror, still clad only in her underwear.
Anything she had ventured to imagine as to what she had just become was blown away when she finally saw for herself. If what she had seen after her first transformation was akin to a fitness model, then the sight she now beheld could be nothing less than a veritable amazon. Her frame had grown massive, her height shooting up past seven feet, with every part of her body crowned by mountains of hard, defined muscle that was just pronounced enough so as to not clash with her curvy, supple feminine figure. Her voluptuous chest, now enhanced by her pectoral muscles, was barely contained by her old bra, and her tiny yet indubitably solid cobbled waist served to accentuate the fullness of her outrageous hips. Every inch of her being now oozed raw power, beauty, and sexuality.
Helpless to resist, Rose began to feel herself up once more, starting out by running her fingers through her silken dark hair, going down to her shoulders, chest, abs, and finally her groin. Unable or unwilling to stop, Rose quickly shoved her panties aside and began playing with herself. The initial efforts of her probing fingers quickly rewarded her with a feeling of pleasure even more intense than that which she had felt while transforming, almost sending her right over the edge, and drawing a deep, passionate moan from her. Up until that moment, she had realised that she had kept quiet throughout the whole ordeal – she had never been too keen on talking while she was alone, which was most of the time. But at that moment, she sensed that wouldn't be the case for much longer, as her involuntary vociferation let her in on yet another change she had undergone: even her voice had not been left out when it came to conveying godlike authority and lustiness. Indeed, as she realised this, Rose quickly found herself overtaken by such a feeling of happiness that she began to laugh; a deep, powerful, yet giddy laughter which let the world know just how much fun she was having. As she continued to please herself, Rose's laughter became mixed with her moaning in a symphony of delight so powerful it rattled the apartment walls.