Gigantic Variations

by Maxwell Avoi

  “Ivan’s not here,” said a feminine voice. She pronounced Ivan’s first name correctly. Harper whirled around and saw her standing there in the corner. He took time out to stare at her.

  She was worth staring at. The white lab coat that she wore didn’t even start to over her elaborate curves; from mid-thigh down, she wore nothing at all to cover her long, perfect legs or her tiny feet. She had her arms crossed underneath breasts that were so large that she hadn’t been able to close the coat over them; they were tightly wrapped and displayed so much cleavage that Harper just knew that they were even bigger than they already seemed to be. The coat also showed him that her waist was impossibly small, her hips so wide that the coat almost…almost gapped open in front to ruin her modesty.

  She had wide, dark eyes with heavy lids and a mouth that looked as if it would be at home sipping scotch, smoking a cigar, or giving the world’s best blowjob. Blazing red hair with auburn and brown undertones topped the whole package, cascading down to almost her knees.

  “Holy shit,” said Harper, never one to keep his feelings to himself.

  Her smirk widened a bit and she said, “So now you know he’s not here. You can just fuck off.” Her voice was like blue smoke over silk.

  She sounded so certain of herself that Harper took a step toward the door before he remembered where and who he was. “Hey lady, who the hell do you think you are? How’d you get in here? Where’s Ivan?”

  “Ivan’s indisposed. He told me about you, though. I’m guessing you’re Harper.”

  “I…yeah, I am! I’m his boss, and you’ve got five seconds to get out of here before I call security.”

  “That’ll look good. You and a naked woman standing here in a roomful of experimental drugs.” She pushed herself off the wall, keeping the coat closed but allowing her heavy breasts to bounce beneath it. “Oh, officer, I’m so glad you’re here!” she said, pitching her voice higher. “He tried to rape me, it was terrible!”

  Harper opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a few seconds and then said, “There are cameras.”

  “Oh, not in this room, honey. Ivan told me all about it.”

  “What do you want?” said Harper, his limbs feeling heavy with shock as she approached. He had never felt simultaneously scared and turned on before, but she was the hottest woman that he’d ever seen in real life.

  She put out one finger and slid the nail from his chin down his throat. Harper swallowed. She finally said, “Apologize for your rudeness.”

  “Oh. Uh, I’m sorry that you found me rude, and-“

  She slapped him, lightly, and he stopped in shock. “No no,” she said. “Bad boss. I don’t think your heart’s in this. I think I’m going to yell rape instead.” She took a deep breath that forced the gap over her breasts wider.

  “No, no! Wait! I’m sorry! I’m terribly sorry!” Harper did something that he never thought that he would do: he hit his knees, actually begging for her mercy. Her sheer self-confidence drove him down.

  She let out the breath and gave him the kind of smile that a fawn in a wolf-infested forest might see before it all turned black. She patted him on the cheek and then before he could react she turned one long nail in and gave him a scratch that went from the corner of his eye to his chin. He gobbled like a turkey and pulled away, landing on his ass. He skittered even further away before he focused on what she was doing. She was wiping her hand off on the inside of a plastic bag, like the ones used to carry sandwiches.

  “There,” she said, her smoky voice sounding satisfied. “I have some of your skin cells and some blood. Now if you fuck around with me, I could probably make quite the case for attempted rape.”

  He put his hand to his wounded cheek and said, “You crazy bitch.”

  “Nope. I’m Scarlet.” She went to the synthesizer and upended the hopper, pouring the remaining two hundred or so pills into one of the pockets of her lab coat. Then she turned to him and said, “If you wait less than thirty minutes before calling security, you’re going to be accused of rape and assault. Toodles, baby.”

  Harper sat there on the floor, leaking blood from his cheek, and watched as the hottest woman he’d ever seen sashayed from the room with a pocketful of what had the potential to be the most valuable drugs in his company’s history. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what to do.

  Ivan woke up and didn’t know where he was. He was in a much nicer bed than he was used to, in surroundings that were both cleaner and brighter than his small apartment. He sat up and was shocked to find that he was naked. He never slept in the nude. He fumbled around and pulled the sheet off the bed, feeling vaguely apologetic and embarrassed even though there was no one else in the room. It was decorated in Standard Hotel, though it was a half-step nicer than ones that he’d stayed at in the past. He wished that he had any idea of where his clothes were.

  He stood and wrapped the sheet further. “Uh, hello?” he called. There was no answer. Finally he summoned up the shreds of courage that chose to live lonely lives in his heart and poked his head into the front room. It continued to be uninhabited, but there was a suitcase and a stack of bags on the floor next to it.

  Ivan darted out and grabbed the suitcase, pulling it back into the bedroom with him. He closed the door, feeling silly but unable to make himself stop, and he opened the case to find that it was packed with his clothing. He dressed as quickly as he could and then went back into the front room, feeling a little more normal but still terribly confused.

  The bags, it turned out, were mostly from local clothing stores. They were mostly on the higher end, and he found that there were no receipts to let him know how much had been spent. He found one bag full of things entirely from Victoria’s Secret and closed it immediately, the blush threatening to overtake his entire body. Toward the bottom of the pile he found a small duffel bag. He opened it to find neatly-wrapped stacks of cash, mostly twenties and hundreds.

  There was a note attached to one of the stacks. Feeling as if he was in a dream, Ivan opened the note. The handwriting was blocky and firm, totally unlike his own hurried scratching.

  Don’t call work , it said. No idea if you’re reading this or what, but don’t call work. You don’t have a job anymore. Took care of that. You’re welcome. The cash is yours, it’s from your savings. Welcome to Atlanta. Take another pill soon, important !

  The last line was written in lettering that was twice as large as the rest of it. He put the note down and wondered what in the world was going on. The first thing he was going to do was find out where he was for real, and who had played this prank on him. He figured that he’d better call work and let them know that he was going to probably be late.

  “Janus Pharmecuticals,” said the receptionist when he finally found his cell.

  “I need to speak to Harper Vargas, please?”

  “May I say who’s calling?”

  “Ivan Gurrink.”

  There was a moment’s silence, and then the receptionist said, “Mister Gurrink, I’m afraid that I’m under orders to not allow you any access to Janus, including by phone. Have a good day, sir.”

  There was a click and then the phone turned off. Ivan stared at it for a moment and then put it down. What on earth was going on?

  He picked up the hotel phone and pressed the 0 button. When the front desk picked up, he said, “Hi, can you tell me the exact address here?”

  “Certainly, sir.” The receptionist for the hotel was noticeably warmer than the one for Janus, but all Ivan cared about was the zip code. Sure enough, she rattled off a string of numbers and a street name that meant nothing before finishing with, “Atlanta, Georgia.”

  “Uh. Thanks.”

  Ivan hung up and sat staring at his phone, then at the pile of bags. He almost jumped out of his chair when the cell phone rang.

  “Gurrink! What the fuck is going on?” yelled Harper when Ivan picked it up. “Who the fuck was she? You’ll never get away with this!”

  “I don’t under-“


  “You get those drugs back here now or there’s going to be a world-class shit storm heading your way. I talked to my lawyer and he says it doesn’t matter what she has, that she committed assault and that we’re going to sue you into the next fucking ice age if you so much as breathe a word about any of this. You signed a contract, bitch!”

  “Harper, I don’t know where-“

  “You better fucking know! You have one fucking hour to get those pills back here or the wrath of God is going to fall on your pudgy ass, do you read me? People are going to write fucking songs about what happens to you!”

  “I’m not sure I-“

  “Fucking get sure!” Harper clicked off and Ivan sat there staring at the phone again.

  Even if he wanted to, there was no way that he could get to Janus in an hour. Atlanta was at least five hundred miles away from his office, and he didn’t remember driving a single foot of it.

  He read the note again and went to the pile of bags. He nudged the bags containing women’s clothing to the side with his foot, moving as if scared that they would explode. He leaned down and picked up the duffle bag instead.

  This time he did more than just glance inside. He carried the duffle to his bed and upended it, scattering packets of cash all over the spread. He didn’t have time to count it, but he could tell from a quick overview that it was well into the five-figure range. He was much more interested in the baggie with the pills that fell out at the same time.

  There had to have been over two hundred of them, each one stamped with a line of ink that he knew carried the batch code and other vital information. He remembered taking one before waking up here, but that was all he could remember. He felt a sudden deep urge to take another; something had happened that made him want more.

  He just had no idea what it might be. Obviously some of what he’d wanted to happen with the drug had worked; his behavior had changed. The problem was that it hadn’t changed in a way that made any sense. Why on earth would he have bought so much women’s clothing? Why was he so far from home? Where had the money come from? He turned on the television, half-afraid that he might show up as the subject of a nationwide manhunt, but there was just the standard Middle-East story going on when he turned to the news channels.

  His cell rang, making him jump. He checked the caller ID but it wasn’t Harper, so he picked up.

  “Mister Gurrink?” said the voice on the other end of the line. It was a woman but that was all he knew. She sounded professional, like the front-desk receptionist he’d spoken to.

  “Yes?” he said.

  “Mister Gurrink, this is just a follow-up from Central Bank. We wanted to make sure that you knew that if you ever changed your mind and decided to switch back to us, we would welcome your business. We appreciate the years of mutual respect and look forward to possibly working with you again in the future.” She sounded bored, as if reading from a paper in front of her, but her words made Ivan shake.

  “I…no longer have an account there?” he said.

  “No sir. Your sister closed it out yesterday as per your request. I hope that the family emergency settles itself favorably, sir.”

  “Ah. Well. Thank you for your concern. And I’ll, um, come back. When I can. Thanks again.” He clicked off before she could respond, and then he sat there staring at the phone. It looked like it always had but in the last few minutes it had acquired an aura of power, as if it was a direct line to an oracle.

  He felt a surge of desire for the drug and glanced at the bag of pills. Whatever had happened to him had come about because of the new medicine, he was sure. He had to call up Janus again and see if he could work out a deal to return the pills so that-

  He stopped that train of thought and blinked. So that what? So that he could get his job back? The one that he’d disliked so intensely that he’d planned to leave it anyway? Whatever he’d done after taking the drug, it had freed him from the situation that he’d planned to flee anyway. True, he’d wound up with a few bags-full of women’s clothing and a possibly suspicious amount of cash, but ultimately the goal had been achieved. He was free.

  He held up the bag and looked at the pills. Now he needed to know what they did. The urge to take one was so powerful that he opened the bag without thinking about it and shook one into his hand. It looked innocent. Surely Janus wouldn’t miss it if just one more was missing, right?

  He closed his eyes and popped the pill down his throat without another thought. This time, he resolved, this time he would find out what was going on. He knew that he had a little time before he blacked out, so he carefully turned on the video function of his phone and then propped it up next to the bedside telephone so that it would capture him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Then he sat and waited for whatever might come.

  For a long time nothing happened, and then he noticed the sensation that all his body parts were moving at different speeds. He found himself lying on his back with no memory of having dropped, and then right when he expected to black out…he didn’t. Instead he felt his brain cool down, which was ridiculous because there weren’t any of those kinds of nerves in the brain, but there it was. It felt like something was pouring his head full of ice water. Then he realized that there was something wrong. His body felt uncomfortable, too large and too clumsy to be his. Fortunately, as soon as he realized it, his body shrank and shifted to come into line with his new self-perception. The process continued, the coolness growing until he realized that his body was wrong, and then the shifting, followed by further realizations and then more changes.

  Ivan lost track of all the modifications and somewhere in the middle of them he lost track of himself as well. He closed his eyes and when they finally popped open they’d turned green.

  Scarlet sat up and stretched, her shining hair flowing over her magnificent body and its ill-fitting clothes. She smiled and gave the camera a wink before she opened Ivan’s shirt, displaying her giant breasts for any interested viewers. Why wouldn’t they be interested? She was perfect! She left the camera-phone running while she stripped down, and then she carried the shopping bags into the bedroom to display herself as she started to try on the things she’d bought. There were few things that she liked better than showing off her body and gathering as much attention as she could.

  Finally she decided on a classic little black dress, one that displayed her spectacular legs and had a cleavage window for her boobs. She tilted her head and nodded at the display in the mirror, and then she went over and turned off the phone. There were things she had to learn, and it was her connection to the world for now.

  Scarlet had muddy memories of being Ivan. They were clear enough for her to have the information that she needed to close out his bank account, at least, but outside of that she had to guess and make her own way. He’d certainly had no idea, for instance, of how to size a bra or put on makeup. Fortunately the Internet had information about all those things, which was good because if there was one thing that Scarlet hated it was being forced to look like a fool in front of others. Asking stupid questions about things that girls probably learned when they were twelve was a great way to look like a fool. It wasn’t going to happen.

  She’d started at a convenience store, where she’d gotten a traveler’s emergency sewing kit. She’d driven for another half hour to make sure that no one was following her, and then she’d taken the time to take her measurements and, with the help of a calculator online, figure out her bra size. She’d been forced to shop around to a couple of different calculators, because her measurements were impressive enough that the first two couldn’t parse them. The sensation of pride almost completely overcame the irritation. Finally she’d found one that fucking worked, and she’d discovered that in addition to her 42-28-38 figure, she had a bra size of 32J.

  From there it had been a trip to a big-box store where she’d more or less blended in despite Ivan’s shitty clothing being too large for her. At least when she was wearing his shirt, she hadn’t had to worry
about guys staring at her tits. They’d remember her face and hair, of course, and her voice, but there was no helping that even if she wanted to. Let ‘em stare.

  Once she’d found some clothing that at least fit, if not flattered, she’d used the phone again to track down a specialty bra store that would have something for her. She’d gone in for a fitting, explaining that she’d lost her clothes due to a problem with the airline. The fitters had clucked and bustled around her, getting her set up once she’d told them her size. One of them, who had a particularly large bust even though neither it nor the rest of her was anything like Scarlet’s league, had felt such camaraderie with Scarlet that she’d actually given a small discount on the final sale. Like Scarlet cared; she bought five and didn’t even check the price, even when they threw in the matching panties.

  Armed with passable clothing and a good set of lingerie, she’d gone from there to a shopping spree at the best mall that she could find an hour out from that point. By the time she’d finally made her way up to the bedroom of her new hotel room, she’d been damn near exhausted but at least prepared for the next time she changed. And she would change, she knew. Ivan wouldn’t be able to resist being her.

  And she’d been proven right. He’d been too damn weak to resist the need to become her again. The fact that he hadn’t remembered anything about changing into her was worrying, but she was sure that it would take care of itself. If he had the option of being him or being her, why on earth would he choose to be himself?

  She was obviously the superior choice.

  Now, though, she was faced with a new problem: it was eleven in the morning. It wasn’t that she was worried about being run out of her room; she’d put it on her card and she knew that she’d just be charged for another night should she stay. No, the problem was so well-known that there had been songs written about it.

  She stared into the mirror and sighed. “All dressed up and no place to go.”

  She decided to downgrade the look a little bit. No reason to dress up for lunch. Scarlet shucked the dress without a second thought and dug through the bags to find herself a silvery summer dress that covered a bit more. Not that “a bit more” with a body like hers mattered much. She couldn’t get over how amazing she looked.