Time: The "me" decade (1980s)
Growth: Breast Expansion
Crystal grumbled as she walked along the aisles of the garish, noisy fairgrounds. She didn't see what the draw was- the games were obviously rigged, the refreshments were overpriced garbage, and the rickety old amusements were a lawsuit waiting to happen. Throw in the smell of livestock and the beer-swilling, fanny-pack-wearing clientele, and she wondered why there'd been any resistance to her buying up the property to begin with. These bumpkins should be thankful she was bringing some high-class high-rises to this suburb, the offices and residences would create hundreds and thousands of jobs... and make her even more rich, of course.
"Ms. Deniah!" She heard, and turned to look for the origin of the voice. Not too fast, of course- the dirt and grass floor wasn't very accommodating of her high-heeled shoes.
Crystal had to hold back a sneer. Every bit the carnie, Mr. Barker, the soon-to-be-previous owner of the carnival grounds, was hurrying up to her, tacky top had and red jacket easily distinguished among the crowd.
"Mr. Barker," She said, as polite as a business deal required of her and not an iota more.
"Have you had a chance to reconsider?" He asked. "Seeing all the people having fun, enjoying themselves, forming memories?"
Crystal rolled her eyes. "Mr. Barker, I'm doing this walk-through of the grounds solely because it was a stipulation of your sell offer," She said. "I find nothing endearing about this squalor."
"Squalor?!" Mr. Barker exclaimed, shocked. "For heaven's sake, woman, open your eyes, open your ears! Can't you hear the joyous screams, the laughter? Can't you see all the smiling faces?"
"All I see is wasted effort, wasted land, and wasted money," Crystal hmphed.
Mr. Barker sighed. "I was hoping actually being here would help put some bounce in your step..." He said.
"The only bouncing around here is your checks," Crystal retorted. "I've made it to the far end of this... place, and I'm heading back. I expect you to be waiting for me at the front with papers ready to sign."
Mr Barker signed again. "All right, so be it..." He turned, then stopped suddenly and turned back. "One of the stipulations in the sell offer was that you partake of the fair's goods, right?" He asked.
"Ugh, yes," Crystal admitted. "I was going to throw some rings or some other trivial thing on the way out..."
"Here then," He said, taking a wrapped bundle from his vest pocket. "Have a bite of this, and we'll call it good. Was saving it for later, really, but it looks like there is no later..."
Crystal regarded the proffered treat as though it might be radioactive. It appeared to be a doughy snack cake of some kind, fried golden brown and smelling faintly of honey. "I'd rather not..."
"It's this or wait in line to play one of the games," Mr. Barker shrugged. "You could be done with your obligation before you even reached the midway."
Crystal rolled her eyes, relinquishing her distaste for fried, fatty foods in favor of her desire for efficiency. "Fine," she said, taking it from him and taking a huge, showy bite. "There," She said, throwing the rest at a nearby trash can. "I don't like it. Let's go."
Mr. Barker bowed his head. "I'll be waiting," He said, jogging off down an odd aisle.
"Hmph, taking the long way around, I suppose," Crystal said as she started walking back to the front gate. "Suppose I can't begrudge him one last look around." As she chewed the sweet, doughy treat, her expression softened a little. Perhaps she'd been too hasty, she thought- the treat was actually quite good. She'd need to do an extra hour on her "Sweatin' to the Oldies" VHSes tonight, with all the fat and sugar that was likely in it, but as she swallowed she regretted throwing the rest of it away. She ran her tongue through her mouth, on both sides of her teeth, trying to scavenge any missed morsel, when she noticed an odd sensation in her jaw. Her mouth didn't feel like it was closing right, her front teeth clicking before the rest of them. She'd just reached a finger to what would be overly-large incisors when her heel twisted out from under her and she stumbled. Catching her balance in front of a barbecue pit full of corn and brisket, Crystal looked back, expecting to see her heel had stuck into the soft ground and snapped off, but to her surprise it was the stitching on the side of the shoe that had given out, a most unusual break for a shoe and especially for a designer brand as expensive as hers. Even as she straightened up, she noticed her other foot felt incredibly cramped, and she looked down to see the pink footwear nearly overflowing, her toes crushed and arch bowed up as she tried to fit inside a shoe several sizes too small. She kicked her shoe against the ground, knocking it off with a relief that almost made her gasp, and she wriggled her toes to get feeling back in them.
...Her toes that were far too large for her, with matching feet, turning visibly pale through her stretched-out panty-hose.
"Wh- what's going on here?!" Crystal breathed to herself, looking around. "He- that damned carnie must've slipped me something in that treat? Am I coked up right now?!" She looked back and forth, searching for Mr. Barker's distinctive top hat and red jacket. Which way did that bastard go!? She thought, biting her lower lip with strangely large incisors, her nose twitching involuntarily. She picked an aisle she thought he had gone down and walked swiftly after him, trying not to acknowledge what she thought were her hallucinations. Even when her hair began growing out, longer and lighter than her stylist would ever perm it, she dismissed it as a trick of her senses.
But when the tightness hit her chest, an odd, pressing sensation, she began to panic in earnest. She took a step to speed up and found herself stumbling forward, her enlarged feet pushing off with enough force that she'd hopped ahead, windmilling her arms to keep balance and knocking someone's funnel cake from their paper plate.
"Hey watch- it...?" They started, trailing off as Crystal looked at them to apologize. "Hey, uh, you okay...?" They asked, brow furrowing as they leaned in a little close. "You're lookin' kinda pale there..."
"S-sorry!" Crystal squeaked and headed off again, her attempt at a light jog turning into a series of skips, her feet seemingly unable or unwilling to propel her forward without propelling her upwards at the same time. The tightness in her chest became more obvious and pronounced, any fears of heart attacks vanishing when she felt her bra strap snap apart at the back and her bigger, still-swelling breasts alternately dove for her navel and leapt for her chin with every hop.
"Oh my god oh my god oh my god..." Crystal breathed, hyperventilating as she turned the corner and down another aisle, frantically looking for Mr. Barker as she made her way through the fairground. Every hop seemed to invite new tears and holes in her pantyhose, the sheer material bunching at her shins and ankles as each hop seemed to make her leg muscles flex further and further out from her thighs and butt, her conservative pencil skirt now struggling just to keep below the curve of her butt as more and more pale flesh piled into her hindquarters.
Her nose was twitching almost unceasingly now, prickly sensations from around her cheeks making her feel like she was falling even further into whatever delirium was causing this. She didn't even know if she was really here anymore, for all she knew she could be facedown in the bathroom imagining all of this. But it felt so real, the wind whooshing past her face, the thud of the ground when her feet would briefly touch. She was getting to the point where each hop would put her a couple feet above the heads of the crowd, simultaneously allowing her a better view of the surroundings in her search for Mr. Barker but also allowing the crowds a better view of her. She felt a pain in her chest and chanced a glance down, seeing that her efforts to hold her breasts to her chest were being complicated on two fronts. One, the breasts had apparently taken no rest in their growth, now the size of large watermelons her blouse could only pretend at covering, and two, her fingers had shortened, her press-on nails having fallen off and given way to short but sharp curled claws, with her fingers and palms growing thick pink pads on them. So she continued hopping along, her pantyhose fluttering away in scraps as her butt became too much for them to bear, her skirt prevented from riding up to her much slimmer waist solely by virtue of a constantly twitching puff of a tail grown from the base of her spine.
Crowds would be gathering now, if Crystal was standing still long enough for them to gather, but as it stood she just left a wake of amazed, astonished, and occasionally aroused fair-goers as she bounded down one aisle and then the next, each half of her swelling, waist-length breasts bouncing above and below where her arms gripped them tightly, thankfully saved from claw-scratches by virtue of the light but soft coating of fur spreading up and down her body. Her silky, long blonde hair brushed her whiskers as she frantically looked back and forth, the gasps and jeers of the crowd thankfully drowned out for the most part by the wind blowing past her long, floppy ears. Her blouse finally gave up any pretense of covering her, the buttons long since having fled and even the seams tearing as she attempted to hold the polyester over the heaving, quivering masses.
Finally, at the height of one of her largest bounds yet, Crystal saw Mr. Barker, waiting by the front entrance with a smug look on his face. Snarling as much as one can with a small pink button-nose and poofy white-fuzzed lips, Crystal turned towards the front and bounded as hard as she could, landing and skidding to a stop right beside the ticket booth.
"You-!" Crystal snarled, letting go of her breasts to reach for the diminutive carnie. Unsupported, and owing to the semi-hunched posture her huge legs forced upon her, her huge, round breasts just barely brushed her lap, such as it was.
"Ut!" Mr. Barker said, holding a sheaf of papers in front of him like a shield. "Here are your documents, Miss Deniah," He said, smirking. "All the agreed-upon terms. And here," He continued, pulling out another sheaf of papers, "Is a set of terms that says you nor any associates of yours, will ever attempt to make claim on this property again."
"WHAT?!" Crystal exclaimed.
"And in return," He finished, "I can reverse the unfortunate side effects of your bizarre 'allergic reaction'."
"You cretin!" Crystal spat. "You poisoned me!"
"And who's going to believe you?" Mr. Barker chortled. "Try proving magic in court. Especially with those ridiculous breasts of yours- who's going to care about bounced checks when you look like some midnight pay-per-view gone wrong."
Crystal fumed, her anger kept in check only by the gathering crowd of onlookers.
"So what's it going to be?" Mr. Barker said, waving one sheaf of papers in each hand. "Give up your claim? Or be a freak forever?"
* * *
"And I want the ceilings to be raised on all floors!" Crystal said into the huge cellular phone on her shoulder as she rode in the back of her limousine. "Yes, all of them! I don't care how many units you have to take off the top, we'll just charge more for the other ones. Yes, fourteen feet! I don't want to be bumping my head anywhere I go in my buildings! Never you mind how tall I am, I'm not paying you to ask dumb questions!"
Crystal huffed and replaced the shoe-sized phone on its cradle on the wall. Well, a shoe for anyone but her, that is. Even with the limo stretched even further than the stock, she still felt like she lacked legroom in it. Of course, the same could be said for the seats- with her hips twice as wide as her shoulders and her massive breasts nearly so, nothing short of an entire bench seat made her feel comfortable in a vehicle.
"I swear, so hard to find good help these days..." She said, using a scrunchie to tie her long ears back behind her head, on top of her tight ponytail. Slipping her hard hat on as the car pulled to a stop, she checked herself in the mirror, her business suit fitting perfectly over her massive chest and around her voluptuous thighs. She set a pink slip in her cleavage, bright and obvious enough to get the message to anyone who found themselves staring at her long line of pressed fuzzy breastflesh.
Crystal eased herself out of the limo, clipboard under her arm, and smirked the cutest bunny-smirk that could belie a killer instinct, and hollered for the foreman.
"All right, let's get to work! Hop to it!"