Mushrooms Ch. 02

The sun set while we talked and drank and talked some more. It was when we were discussing past relationships, or lack thereof -- admittedly, I'd dropped the ball in trying to keep the conversation light -- that Becca asked me about Maisy, and what the story was. I answered honestly without revealing anything about the mushrooms. Yes, we were sleeping together. Yes, I liked her. No, I didn't know where it was going, if anywhere at all.

"You're a good guy, Brian," she told me when I finished. "You deserve someone who knows that. I hope you don't end up getting hurt."

I smiled. "There's always a chance I will, but that's okay, you know? Sometimes you gotta roll the dice." Where that came from, I had no idea, but the words were out, now.

Becca chuckled. "I know that feeling." The sound of the oven timer ended our poolside chat there. Back inside, we got things ready and ate on the couch in front of the TV. Becca insisted on showing me a comedy she really liked called The Office. I quickly found that I liked it, too, and laughed along with Becca as we ate. The lasagne was nothing short of epic, rich and hearty and Becca insisted I have as much as I wanted, which ended up being three plates.

When dinner was done, we started on the second bottle of wine and settled in to watch the latest Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Not a particularly riveting choice, but I was fine to sit back and enjoy the film. I was having too good a time to want to end things already. We heard April leave at one point, the door opening and closing as she headed out, probably to late night shopping or a party somewhere.

Maybe it was the wine or the food -- or a combination of both -- but I began to feel a little sleepy as the movie played on, my eyelids growing heavy. Somehow, Becca's head ended up on my shoulder, but I didn't mind. We fell asleep like that, and I didn't open my eyes again until the credits were rolling.

Gently, I nudged her awake. "Hey," I whispered.

She came awake with a yawn, then sat up quickly as she realised where her head had been. "Oh, my god!" she said, flustered. "I'm sorry! I was just so tired, and you were... Sorry."

"Relax," I soothed, sitting up myself. "No big deal." I felt closer to Becca than I ever had before, not intimately, but like we were becoming proper friends instead of just roommates. "Let's do this again sometime, yeah?"

She brightened at that. "Sounds good to me."

"Thanks for dinner, and the wine," I said. "And the company wasn't bad, either."

She raised an eyebrow at my jape. "Oh? Well, you're cooking next time, buddy. Better get your act together."

I laughed. "Deal. I'll make something to tantalise your tastebuds and melt in your mouth."

"I'll hold you to that," Becca shot back. "Don't promise what you can't deliver!" The banter continued as we cleaned up, and when the kitchen was clean, we finally called it a night, both of us with smiles on our faces.

***

Becca leaned back against her bedroom door as it closed behind her, trying to wipe the stupid grin off her face. There was no lying to herself about tonight; she was falling hopelessly in love with Brian. He was kind, funny and smart, and he was so handsome it made her chest ache, along with other areas. I can't let him know, yet, she affirmed in her mind. I have to play the long game, here. He and Maisy will run out of steam soon enough, and then I'll be there to comfort him.

It was a good plan. Wasn't it? With a sigh, she trudged across her room and sat on her bed, puffing out her cheeks in consternation. She hadn't even considered the April situation, yet. Why April had suddenly started eyeing Brian like a piece of meat was beyond her. As handsome as Brian was, April only ever dated guys with washboard abs and such. Brian shouldn't even be on her radar. Becca doubted April was aware she had noticed.

There was something Becca was missing, here, a piece of the puzzle out of place. If she thought on it long and hard enough, she would work it out. Her mind had always been her best asset. She tried to objectively study the facts: Firstly, Brian and Maisy had started up their thing out of the blue. Secondly, at the same time, Becca had realised she genuinely cared for Brian and didn't want to let him get away. Thirdly, April had started acting up around him, trying to get his attention like a horny high school cheerleader around the star quarterback.

On top of all that, Brian -- and Maisy -- had started looking far more attractive, almost overnight. In fact, it had been less than a week since Becca had first noticed. Those changes could be explained by any number of things: diet, exercise, clean living -- as both Brian and Maisy had attested -- but there was still something nagging at her, as if there were more to it.

It's too fast, she thought. Becca had tried enough fad diets to know how dramatic weight loss could be, sometimes, but still, Brian had slimmed significantly in less than a week. A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at the thought he might be taking drugs. She chewed her lip, thinking furiously. What drugs make someone lose weight and look healthier? None that she had ever heard of.

Unless... a light went off in her mind. Not illegal drugs, but something new, experimental, maybe? It would certainly explain Brian's and Maisy's uncharacteristic jaunts up this 'mountain.' Taken by a desire to find out, she grabbed her phone and looked up the national park service. A short discussion with the ranger on duty confirmed her suspicion: there had been no landslides in the mountains in the past week.

I knew she was lying! Becca tossed her phone down on the bed angrily, but her anger faded quickly, replaced by consideration. Maybe they can't tell me what's going on for privacy reasons, or something. Becca was coming to two likely conclusions: either they were doing something illegal and hiding it from her, or they were involved in experimental medicine and weren't allowed to disclose anything.

It wasn't long before she began to wonder how she might get involved in something like that herself. Standing, she moved to the full-length mirror against her wall and eyed her body disdainfully. There was no getting around it; she was truly overweight. Bad skin, hair and watery eyes didn't help, either. The bittersweet ache of sadness gripped her chest as she studied herself. Her body had no shape, really, just a round mass of ugly she was trapped in as surely as a prisoner in a cell.

Her thoughts turned dark, as they sometimes did when she looked at herself too much. She knew it was all her fault -- she wasn't one of those people who victimised themselves -- she'd done this to herself, but that made it all the worse. A hundred times, she had started a diet or exercise routine, and a hundred times she had given up after only a few weeks. It wasn't even like she put weight on in the right areas, like some girls did, all tits and thighs and butt. Yes, she had plenty in those places, but also in the belly, arms, and face, so she couldn't even dress in a way that made her look even remotely good.

The answer is right there in front of you, a small, sly voice told her, deep in the back of consciousness. All you need to do is do it. She tried pushing the voice away, but it grew louder, more insistent, fuelled by her self-loathing.

I'm not a bad person! She wailed back at the voice. And neither are Brian and Maisy!

No, you aren't, came the oh-so-seductive reply. And that's why you deserve what they have, too.

The voice made sense. All her life, Becca had been putting others' needs before her own, often getting forgotten or trampled in the process. It was why she ate too much; to fill the void left by loneliness. She knew that, in her rational mind, but her emotions got the best of her more often than not. Face hardening into a picture of resolve, she made up her mind.

***

It was late when Maisy quietly entered my room. I was on my bed in only my boxers, idly browsing the web on my phone while my brain worked away on other things, as it seemed to like doing of late. I looked up when I heard the door open and smiled when I saw her standing there wearing only a towel. I'd heard the shower going but hadn't realised it was her.

"Hi," she said softly as she crossed the room. "Miss me?"

I put the phone down and pretended to think for a moment. "A little, I suppose."

She pouted and reached down to brush her fingers across the front of my shorts, which had started to tent a little at her mere presence. There was an almost magnetic pull between us since inhaling the spores, one that only seemed to grow stronger as the days went on. "Doesn't feel like a little." The playful pout melted into a frown as she pulled back the waistband to get a better look.

My cock jumped out at once, waving assertively until it settled into its usual erect position. "In fact," she continued, "you've grown. I thought I felt it earlier, in the kitchen, but I forgot to get a better look."

Curious, I glanced down to see what she was talking about. Sure enough, my little soldier had gained some length and girth. It was marginal, but undeniable. I was maybe six inches, now, and thicker. If I had to guess, I would say it was about a thirty percent increase since first exposure, which was about the same for Maisy's height, chest, and butt, now that I thought of it.

"About five percent a day, on average," we both murmured in unison, then stared at each other in shock. Maisy's dark, pretty eyes were even larger than usual as she stared down at me.

"Were you just assessing how much growth you've noticed in your penis and comparing it to my changes?" she asked quietly, as if afraid of the answer. When I nodded numbly, she exhaled slowly and plopped down onto the bed heavily. "I heard your thoughts in my head," she confessed disbelievingly. "Your voice."

I sat up next to her. "Whoa," was all I could manage to say.

"Yeah," she replied tremulously.

I put an arm around her bare shoulders comfortingly. "You okay?"

Long moments passed, but she finally nodded. "I think so. Just... a bit poleaxed, you know?"

Despite the gravity of the moment, I chuckled. "Poleaxed? Really?"

Recovering some of her spirit, she shot me a glare. "Don't make fun. I don't know why I chose that word, but my vocabulary has been getting bigger. Hasn't yours?"

She had a point, there. Some of the words I'd been using in my notetaking had surprised me, to say the least. "You got me, there," I admitted. "Hey, let's test this. What word am I thinking of right now?" As hard as I could, I focused on the word 'synonymous' in my mind.

Maisy turned to look at me, gazing into my eyes as she tried to read me. There was a glimmer of fear present, but also a spark of excitement. "Nomus?" she said after a few seconds, then shook her head. "Sign... Sin..." Then her eyes widened in recognition. "Synonymous."

"Holy crap!" I blurted, not knowing whether to be scared or thrilled. Maisy's uncertainty gave way to a broad grin, and she bounced lightly on the mattress.

"Try me!" Her brow furrowed in concentration as she fixed me with a stare. I looked into her eyes and cleared my mind, a surprisingly easy feat considering how my brain had been buzzing lately. After a moment, impressions, whispers, began to float into my head, garbled at first, but quickly taking shape. I heard a 'heh' sound, then something that sounded like 'money.' Then it snapped into place.

"Hegemony," I announced confidently, already sure of the answer.

Maisy laughed, a touch hysterically. I knew how she felt. "Brian, what is happening to us?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, babe." It was the first time I'd called her that. The word had slipped out unconsciously. My eyes flew to her face, unsure of her reaction, but all I saw was a warm, misty-eyed smile.

"You called me 'babe.'" She observed in a soft voice.

I shrugged awkwardly. "I guess I did."

"Does that mean I'm your girlfriend?" She sounded almost hesitant, her usual confident and bubbly manner nowhere to be seen.

"Do you want to be?" I replied tentatively, my heart suddenly racing. I heard her answer in my head before she voiced it, and I was kissing her as the 'yes' left her lips.

***

Day Six. Friday.

The routine was faster this time, for we expected it. Maisy and I awoke in the morning and checked ourselves out in the mirror to find our changes had lessened in scale once again. Another consistent factor: the mushroom spores only appeared to affect change for forty-eight hours, give or take.

Unfortunately, Maisy had class today, so we would have to wait until tonight to head back up the mountain if we wanted to go together. I considered going up alone and bringing some of the blue fungus back with me, but I discarded the idea as too dangerous. Best if it all stayed in the cave, for now.

We still felt the same urge to fuck, however, and we spent as much time as we could in bed before Maisy announced she really had to go, or she'd be late for a critical class. When she left my room, though, I heard voices in the hall after my door closed. My hearing really was getting better.

"What the hell?" April was saying. "You were in Brian's room?"

I groaned softly. It was only a matter of time, but April knowing about Maisy and me was another thread in the web of complexity that seemed to surround me lately. "Yep," Maisy replied without missing a beat. She offered nothing in the way of explanation.

"You're sleeping with him?" April asked incredulously. "Since when?" I could almost see April's indignant stance, one hip cocked, a hand planted on it. I wondered what she was wearing, and as I did, an image flashed into my head of April standing there in the hallway wearing tight white leggings and matching pumps, and a cream top that left her midriff bare. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and wide gold hoops hung from her ears. An expensive-looking leather handbag hung off one shoulder, completing the outfit. She could have been a celebrity or runway model, at first glance. I also noted the way she stood, mirroring my earlier guess almost precisely. My imagination? Or could I see what Maisy was seeing?

"Since recently," Maisy replied calmly. "Is there something wrong with that?" There was no challenge in her voice, rather a subtle reminder that Maisy's choices had nothing to do with April.

"Uh, yeah," April said quickly, as if shaking herself from a daze. "I mean no! Not at all. Sorry for prying, I guess." Footsteps followed, as if April was hurrying away. Maisy didn't come back in, making me think she didn't know I'd overheard. The shower started a few moments later.

Next, April will be making me lasagne, I thought ruefully as I rolled out of bed, chuckling at the thought of the leggy blonde doing anything domestic. Before taking care of the rumbling in my belly, I went for my desk drawer and pulled out the notepad, adding to it everything that had transpired since last entry yesterday, particularly the apparent telepathic transference Maisy and I had just discovered. My hands trembled a little as I wrote; it was very possible we were onto the greatest scientific discovery in the last five hundred years. Maybe more.

The limits of the telepathy would have to be uncovered in time when Maisy and I could work uninterrupted. Perhaps we would get some space to do so tonight, after visiting the cave.

Once done with the notes, I shoved the book back into the drawer and locked it. The key I added to the keyring containing my house and car keys, so I wouldn't misplace it. Now having moved from hungry to famished, I got dressed and headed downstairs to make breakfast before remembering I had no real food left in the house. With a grimace, I considered my options for a moment, then resigned myself to a trip to the shops.

I hit the upper floor landing as Maisy exited the bathroom, and we risked a brief but hot kiss in the hallway. "I'm going to the shops," I told her. "See you tonight."

"Have a shower first," she advised with a mischievous grin. "You smell like you've been banging some hot piece of arse all night."

I laughed and sent her on her way, taking her recommendation on board and showering before heading out. We left the house at the same time, sharing another deep kiss out the front before getting in our cars.

I could just tear his clothes off right here in the front yard, Maisy's voice said in my head, making me freeze, half-bent to get in my Fairmont. Looking over at her car, I saw her staring at me through the window of her blue Focus, biting her lip.

At random times during the day, I sent back in her direction, you're going to feel my tongue on your pussy. I wondered if the message carried until I saw her grip her steering wheel and her chest inflate with a deep, sudden breath, as if she'd just felt something significant. Grinning, I waved goodbye and got in the car, waiting for her to drive out before I followed.

The trip to the grocery store was largely uneventful, and soon enough I was back home, and my shelves in the pantry and fridge were fully stocked once again. Sausages and eggs were soon sizzling on the frypan, and the toaster was loaded with four thick slices of bread. The changes might be less dramatic on the third day, but the hunger remained the same, at least for now.

I ate in my room while working. Yet more encouraging feedback had come through from the three clients I'd finished off yesterday, and to my pleased surprise, my new rates were readily accepted by two companies who needed work done. I grinned around a mouthful of sausage at that; I would now be making a thousand dollars plus tax per client, and I could get the work done in about three hours, give or take. That was an hourly rate of about two-hundred-and-fifty bucks after tax. Not a bad wicket.

I made sure to update my own website, adding the testimonials from the satisfied customers for new people to see, and then I got busy with the new clients for a while. I pleased to find that while the physical changes had slowed overnight, my mind was as sharp as ever. After the first client, I took a break and made lunch. While I was in the kitchen, a car pulled up in the drive, easily audible to my enhanced ears even over the hissing of a steak in the frypan -- I seemed to have a proclivity for red meat, today.

A minute later, the front door opened, and April entered, dressed just as I'd seen her through Maisy's eyes this morning. She was trailed by a walking pile of muscle, a six-foot-five beast of a black man with arms thicker than my legs. Bald, he wore a tight white shirt that highlighted the contours of his muscles, and blue jeans above neat white sneakers. "Hey Brian," April said casually as she closed the door behind Muscles McGee. "This is Jerome." Her eyes were hidden behind large, dark sunglasses, the kind rich people wore.

"Hey, man," Jerome said in a bass voice, as if he didn't care one way or another. Something told me he was eager to get April upstairs. I knew I would be. Whether she would survive the encounter was another matter; the guy was huge. Strangely, I wanted to laugh. Normally I would have felt intimidated, or inadequate in the presence of such a physically impressive guy, but I was currently more interested in my steak than who April was bringing home.

"Hi, April. Nice to meet you, Jerome," I replied amiably, taking my eyes off the pan for a moment. "How's it going?"

"Good," April answered flatly, folding her arms across her midriff. Something about the way she held herself said she was disappointed at my response. What had she hoped for? Jerome looked from April to me and back again with a confused expression. After a moment, she grabbed him by the hand and stalked upstairs, her heels thumping harder than necessary. Jerome followed willingly, his eyes on her butt before he disappeared past the entrance to the kitchen.