Complimentary Masks

'Please, take a complimentary mask. Your body is our top focus.'

'No, but thank you.' Weird as the phrasing on that little marketing spiel might have been, she thought wryly as she stepped into the richly decorated mega-reception area, she could somewhat understand it. The country's largest private clinical research establishment didn't get its name for nothing, and they were hardly being untruthful if their focus really was primarily on people's bodies. That is what clinical research is, after all - even if the wording was a little obtuse.

Striding inside, leaving the stiff-backed, airhostess-looking attendant smiling by the door, Christina walked towards the reception desk, her modest heels making a soft clack on the tile as she walked. Behind the desk, a mask-wearing woman just like the one at the front door appeared to grin at her, her eyes squeezing together and her cheeks bulging as she met Christina's eye. Christina smiled back, tucking a black lock over her ear and behind her glasses.

'Hi, I'm-' Christina started.

'Hello!' the woman said chipperly. 'Care for a mashk? Your bofy is our top foshus.' The mask muffled her speech somewhat, and Christina smiled, keeping herself calm as the no-doubt KPI-driven sales pitch took precedence over her actual reason for being here. The pandemic had been over for more than a year now, darling, she thought - you didn't need to push everyone into wearing one of these things anymore. Your own company's vaccines probably contributed to that very fact.

Regathering herself, Christina took a breath, ignoring the proffered mask. 'I'm just here looking for someone,' she said. 'I'm not a participant. I had a call from my boyfriend - he's doing a clinical trial here.' After a moment, almost as if she were a little miffed at being rebutted, the receptionist lowered the fabric item and refocussed on her computer, tapping something into the keyboard. Christina watched for a moment, wondering when the woman would ask for something to identify who her said boyfriend might be.

'Have you ever been invowlved in a chrial here before?' the woman asked.

'Yes, he- uh, no,' Christina said, autopilot directing her towards her next response before she finished processing the question. 'I'm only here to see my boyfriend. He's supposed to be starting a two-week break today.' The receptionist nodded, tapping some more. 'And are you inchereshted in chrialling a non-invasive, short-cherm trial? We pay up to ten tshousand dollars for-'

'Jesus, I'm not interested,' Christina said rather hotly. 'Just look up "Steven Turt" in your little database and tell me if he's been let out yet so I can either wait for him here, or go and move the car.' The receptionist, again, nodded.

'Shorry,' she said, her mask warping around her lips as she spoke. She offered no further response, and Christina didn't think she looked sorry at all. After another minute, she looked up.

'He'sh on level fourteen, scheduled for check-out shoon,' she said, grinning widely below the stupid mask as if she hadn't just retailed herself like a sale whore not sixty seconds ago. 'You can go upshtairs in the public lift and wait for him in the waiting area.' She said. 'I recommend a mask...' she started, holding up the fabric again, but Christina had already stridden off towards the indicated lift. She didn't care if she was being rude or not, the bitch only cared about her dumb performance metrics. The stupid place probably had a minimum hand-out policy in order to earn an extra nine cents for the day, or something equally as stupid.

Christina approached the elevator and rolled her eyes as another smartly-dressed and mask-wearing woman stepped up, a box of masks in her hand. She offered one as Christina approached, and she just snatched it from the tall woman's hand without a word, not letting her finish her spiel. Thankfully, the lift was waiting on the ground floor, so she didn't have to also stand there awkwardly beside the woman she had just been rude to. She stepped in, punched the floor number, and the doors slipped softly shut.

Alone at last, Christina sighed, releasing the tension she had built since walking into the place. Soft, subtle music played in the lift, and the walls were ringed with aqua-blue lights that seemed to be programmed with an animation that made it look as if shadows were swimming through the light, a bit like a blurry aquarium. It was soothing enough, and as the metal box lumbered slowly upwards, Christina looked down at the mask in her hands. Probably should wear one of these on the actual clinical floor, she thought to herself, lifting it towards her face. At least there's an actual risk up there of messing up their tests. She put the fabric to her mouth, pulled it over her nose, and looped the two bands over her ears, tucking them behind her glasses. Then, now masked-up, she adjusted her handbag and looked up at the number above the door. It read six, then seven. It seemed to be taking forever to go up to level... What had it been? Fourteen, right? Or was it - no, no, it was fourteen. I think...

Blinking, Christina idly scratched her left tit as the lift trundled upwards. She inhaled through the mask, marvelling at how much it altered her airflow - she hadn't worn one of these in months and she'd forgotten just how much it impeded things. It felt as if her mouth were tight against the fabric, and she were sucking air in below heavy, labouring breaths. She adjusted her chest ignorantly, sighing as the lift ticked up to level nine.

Christina was starting to feel strange. At first, she'd just thought it was the anger and the airflow through the mask, but as the lift continued to rise, she had noticed it more and more. Now, she couldn't get herself comfortable, and her stupid breathing seemed to be growing harder and harder through the damn mask. She gave up and grabbed both tits to re-adjust them properly in her bra, giving up on the usual modest shuffle synonymous to women the world over.

Christina's gaze shot downwards in surprise as her hands clapped against breasts that had not been there earlier. She gawked in shock as she saw two large, round tits in her hands, doubtless her own yet three times as big as they had been moments earlier. She blinked, wide-eyed, unable to comprehend the two boobs that had ballooned to life in her shirt. She had gone from a 40B cup to a- what was this? A 50F? Maybe a G, if there... Was there a G? She didn't know. All she knew was that her perfectly average, modest little boobies were now so big that they were spilling over her cups and into her shirt, which itself seemed to be stretched tight against them.

As she grasped them, Christina felt the nipples below her shirt, hardening in her hands even as she held them and sensitive beyond imagination. The peaks were huge compared to what she was used to, and as she held onto her new bosom they pressed sensitively into the fabric of her shirt and her warm palms. She shuddered, feeling pleasure emanating powerfully from them as the scrape of the stretched fabric drew against them, and giggled - yes, giggled - in response. What the fuck had come over her? She never giggled! She was a nerdy, bookish ex-emo girl - her idea of laughter was a grunt and masurt- mastie- masturbation. Hehe, she thought - I forgot how to think mastiub-masturbation! Oops, I did it again!

Christina's thoughts were growing less and less organised as she fumbled with her now engorged tits, confusion mixing with pleasure mixing with heat as the lift around her seemed to grow warmer and warmer. She panted into the mask, feeling as if her lips were stretching the very fabric as she waited for the lift to claw its way to level 14. Just gotta get... Up to the stop... Then someone know what to do. Yeah, someone else know what we gotta do.

Level twelve clicked into view, and Christina blinked up at the light, focussing really hard on it but growing distracted each time by the way it glinted and reflected in her glasses. She giggled as the white light flicked to '13' and blinked rapidly up at it, still dumbly grasping her tits in her hands as she rode the lift up, her thighs now squeezing together. At long last, the elevator pinged, and arrived on level 14. The doors shuumed softly open with a soft hiss, and a gentle, blue-painted area greeted her outside. It was adorned with couches and chairs and everything was the same soft aqua-blue of the lift's lights, a soothing, safe colour choice. Christina giggled as she saw it all. She liked blue.

'Christina Feine?' a male voice said as someone with a blue coat on stepped into view. Christina smiled behind the mask, the act squeezing her eyes shut. She giggled at the way the action made her eyes go all close-y. 'Follow me.' He turned, and Christina took a step forwards, staggering under the new weight of her body. Her breasts wobbled in her shirt, and she realised for the first time that her ass had grown too - putting her hands to it, she felt a new bulge that represented a pair of extra-large cheeks resting atop two thick thighs. She squealed as she felt it. 'I'm big!' she said stupidly. The man just walked into a corridor, and Christina hurried after him, hands still clasping her new fat ass.

'Welcome to trial 14-9-V-Q-A-Beta, Christina,' the man said as he paused to gesture into a doorway ahead of the enlarged woman, allowing her to go first. 'Your first test has passed, well done.' Christina giggled, batting her eyelashes. 'doesh that mean I did good?' she said, her speech muffled through the mask still clamped to her face, turning to look at him. She pushed her glasses up her nose, not aware of how much more frequently they had begun to slip down it.

'Yes, very good.' The man said, indicating a new corridor to take. 'This way.' As Christina turned into the hallway, she yipped at the pinch she felt in her right ass-cheek. She didn't turn to look at him, however, and just giggled some more. 'Dash hurd,' she said to herself. 'Hurty. Hehe.'

A new room opened up before Christina, and she looked up to see other women sitting here - all similarly 'enhanced' like herself. Two blondes sat side by side, matching chests bulging beneath thin pink sweaters that did little to mask the pink nipples beneath. Both wore masks, and they seemed to grin up at Christina, smiling and waiving at her like little girls. Christina waived back. A red-head sat nearby, her body even larger than the blondes, starting to grow into the range of abnormality. She breathed slowly through her mask, her ankles apart, knees together, as if the seat were too big for her body to fit in naturally.

As she walked in, one of the doors in the far wall opened, and another man in a blue coat stepped out. 'Hannah,' he said. 'Please come in.' With a giggle and a massive bounce, the woman jumped to her feet and tottled in through the door, her body making her movements more awkward than they ought to be.

'Take a seat.' The male accompanying Christina said, indicating a chair. 'Your appointment is next.' Obeying without argument, Christina wobbled over to the chair and plonked her enlarged backside down, feeling the way it squashed beneath her. She giggled, and for a while that was all she could do.

Eventually, Christina noticed a TV screen on the wall above her, and she looked at it, seeing but not quite understanding what was happening on the display. On it, a scientist of some kind seemed to be explaining something, holding up a mask, and after a long, laborious moment, Christina realised it was a mask just like her own. She giggled at the recognition, taking in little else from the video.

'And this,' the man said, holding up a normal-looking mask, 'is the key. Six layers of specially-designed fabric perform the actions of a regular mask, while also being infused with the aerosolised chemical concoction. Simple room air will not trigger the formula; instead, being applied directly to the face, where inhalation ensures complete ingestion and heats the formula to its reactive temperature, triggers immediate activation, causing rapid and effective alterations as the aerosolised formula is carried, bonded to the oxygen and nitrogen in the air, throughout the host's body. Seen here,' he said, pulling a mounted whiteboard into view, 'is the flow of action here, requiring only application of the device for a short period to deliver the necessary quantity of the formula.' He outlined sections as he spoke, then walked to the side, the camera following him. Two women came into view.

'Here, you see two subjects, one before inhalation, the other after.' He indicated the two females. Apart from their natural differences, it was clear that one had 'grown' significantly compared to the other. Her breasts stretched her shirt, and her hips seemed twice as wide as her waist. She bounced a little on her feet, like an energetic schoolgirl, grinning. The other woman did not move.

'This subject, as you can see, put the mask on ten minutes prior.' he said. 'Her transformative effects have mostly completed their work, thanks to the exponential effect of the drug, though she will continue to change throughout the next 48-72 hours as the formula works through her body, resulting in further enlargement and increased hyper-sensitivity throughout her key zones, as well as reduced mental aptitude and dulled intellect for the same duration, give or take approximately twenty-four hours. That, and of course, the hyper-heightened libido, and its related physical properties.' He stepped past the girl. 'This subject, as you can see, has not yet had any dosage of the drug...'

'Christina?' A voice said. Christina jumped in her seat, searching for the voice. She grinned as she saw a man standing in a nearby doorway. 'Come with me.'

Following the man into the room, Christina found herself in a classroom-sized space. It was white and tiled, through the tiles were a light aqua-blue. She giggled, recognising the same colour from the outside space. She did like blue.

'There's a wash space in there,' the man said, pointing to the lefthand wall as he walked in behind her, removing his lab coat. 'Take off your mask and your clothes.' Christina walked into the add-on room, seeing a wash trough and mirror before her. She stepped up to it, and looked into the mirror. The woman that looked back at her was a different girl. She had a mask on, and above it she seemed mostly the same - black hair, black eyes, white skin, black, squared glasses. She grinned at herself and giggled when the woman in the mirror grinned back.

Below the mask, however, everything had changed. Christina's breasts had quadrupled in size, now ballooning out to the size of a woman far larger than herself. They weren't unnatural, but they were close, big enough to have completely engulfed her comparatively tiny bra beneath their mass. They were still fairly perky, and she could see two stiff nipples pushing against her shirt - she touched one lightly and felt the thrill course through her whole body as even that light touch stimulated her intensely. Giggling, she looked down, taking in her curving hips and generous thighs. She had turned into a - well, she didn't know. The word 'bimbo' rose murkily to her mind, and she felt it fitted. She was, she decided, a bimbo - a big, dumb, horny little girl.

Horny. Huh. The word had come from nowhere, yet now that she thought about it, she realised she still felt as sweaty and tingly as she had in the lift. Noting that this must have been why the man had told her to strip off, and agreeing wholeheartedly with the idea, she quickly began to undress, but the activity turned out to be harder than she had expected. Trying to lift her shirt from her body, she found that her tits had expanded so much that her shirt threatened to explode before it passed them - and every scrape of the cloth on her nipples made her shudder from head to toe. Eventually, she managed to work it over her huge tits, and finally felt them burst out as the shirt strained over her head. She sighed in pleasure as they fell free, glad that they were out in the open now. The bra was easier, but it too had gone taut around her chest, and the clips had half-bent open from the pressure. It broke as she tried to take it off, but couldn't find it in herself to care much about it, having already decided that bare-chested was far more enjoyable that a stuffy bra anyway.

The pants were a similar story, and it took a lot of shimmying and bouncing to force them over her ass. Eventually, they slipped free, and she stepped from the legs. Her panties followed suit, and at long last, Christina stood naked, staring at her expanded self in awe. The sensation of the tight fabric pulling away from her vagina made her moan softly, and the smell of thick arousal quickly rose up to her nose, making her giggle and blush.

'I'm, like, big,' she said. 'Sooo bigger. I'm a huge dumb bimbo now!' She giggled at herself in the mirror, enjoying the way her titties bounced. 'He, he! Dumb horny bimbo!' she chanted.

Finally, the mask was all that was left. By now, it had almost become part of her - breathing through it and talking behind it no longer feeling unnatural. She reached up, watching herself in the mirror as her hands lifted the strands from her ears, pulling the fabric away until her face was revealed beneath. Amazed, Christina saw her lips, which had ballooned into big, plump pillows as if she had taken a bite out of a bee's nest. She tested them and saw the way they moved on her face.

'My mouf, hughe,' she said, touching the side of her mouth gently. The touch made her whole body tingle, especially her erogenous spots. Not only had they blown up; they were as tender as her nipples, and no doubt other places had grown just as sensitive--if not more so--too.

'Christina.' A voice said. Turning, she saw someone gesturing to her in the area outside. She waddled out of the wash area to find a bed of some kind positioned in the middle of the room, lights shining down at it. She couldn't know if it had been there before or not. She looked at it - then at the man. For the first time, she noticed that he wore only the lab coat - two buttons were done up at the bottom, hiding his manhood, but he was otherwise naked. All of a sudden, the heated dampness between Christina's legs that had been developing since she had stepped from the lift became unbelievably apparent, and she ground her thighs together as she looked at him. She bashed her eyelids at him.

'Lie down.' He told her. She obeyed quickly, planting her fat ass on the bed and thrusting her legs up onto the sheets, parting her newly thickened thighs to reveal a puffy, glistening slit below. The man, however, did not approach her, and instead simply walked into a nearby room, closing the door behind him. Confused, Christina lay there, one hand perched just above her pussy, trying stupidly to work out what was supposed to happen next. She was really fucking horny.

Then, all of a sudden, a door in the far wall opened, and another man entered the room - only, this one wore nothing at all. He stumbled inside, everything bared for all to see, his erect cock swinging as he approached Christina. With a jolt, Christina realised that this was her boyfriend, Steven. As he walked up to her, she could see that parts of him had grown, too - his lips were enlarged, his chest thicker, and his ass bulging more. Above all else, though, was his cock. Where before he had been a good average, now he was as long as his forearm and about as thick. It swayed and wobbled, and he held it dumbly in one hand, his fingers looking so much smaller than they should around it. His eyes landed on Christina, and he seemed to recognise her. Then, his gaze slid down her body, over her engorged breasts, and lower until it alighted on her puffy, soaked cunt. He seemed to look ravenous in that moment, as though he were a predator seeing his prey. It was like looking at a pair of primitive animals, albeit modernised, humanoid ones.