Wererock

I called Cynthia the moment I shut myself into my office. She sounded delighted. "Are you ready to know what I did?"

"Yes."

"Do you have your shoes?"

Shit. "They're in the car."

She giggled. "Too bad. You can come. You're so horny I bet you want to come, right? I want you to come. I really do."

I did, and as soon as she said I could I found my fingers traipsing through the soft, wet folds hidden by my panties. I let out a little moan as two fingers slipped inside my pussy. My clit throbbed so hard I could time my pulse by its measured cry. I rubbed it gently, gasping in pleasure, before slipping those fingers back inside my body.

"Amy," Cynthia was saying. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," I said, more distracted than anything else.

"Don't you want to know what will happen if you come?"

That got my attention. My fingers stopped plunging into my sex; I set my feet flat on the floor with my legs wantonly splayed. There was more and it sounded important. I was panting, holding the phone in one hand with my other still cupping my hot mound. "What?" I whimpered, feeling the heat against my palm. "What will happen?"

She let out a little moan. She was doing it again, rubbing herself at my expense. I promised I would do the same thing when it was my turn to program her. It wasn't vindictive, I just wanted to feel the power she felt. She gasped and I felt my pussy lurch. She moaned and I moaned in response. It took her a few more minutes and then she came calling out my name. "Oh," she cooed. "That felt so good." She was panting into the phone, trying to get her breathing under control. "Just wait until you do that. Of course," she paused and I could see her smiling when I shut my eyes, "As soon as you come the programming kicks in."

"What programming?" My voice was tiny.

"Simple. Do you know that everybody has a little internal clock?" I muttered something in response. "Well, after you come your little internal clock will keep track of you and if you're wearing your heels then you have nothing to worry about. For every ten minutes you go without wearing those pretty heels of yours then your breasts will grow half a cup size. I'm sure you can go ten minutes without a problem; who would notice if you just had some tiny bumps under your shirt." By the sadness in her voice I knew she was speaking from experience. "After an hour, though, well, could you hide some C-cup titties?" She giggled. "Imagine how big they'd get if you went two hours without wearing your heels? Would you even be able to walk?"

My shoes were in the car. Shit, shit, shit. I had to go get them. Cynthia was right, I could go ten, maybe twenty minutes without a problem. Any more than that and things would get exceedingly difficult.

But she wasn't done, "Do you have your purse?"

That, too, was in the car. I couldn't carry it or my heels with me into the office. How could I explain that to the rest of the staff? This game was between Cynthia and I; I wasn't ready to play with the rest of the office. "It's in the car," I admitted.

"Didn't I say a girl always carries her purse?"

"Yes."

"And aren't you my girl?"

I was and I told her so. She said something that I couldn't quite understand. A moment later she told me goodbye. I hung up the phone. My hand was still in my panties and I could still feel the burning need from the night before. In fact, it was far too warm in my office. I took off my suit jacket. That helped; it was cooler wearing just my white dress shirt than the whole suit. I took off my red tie and unbuttoned the top button of my shirt; that was cooler still. It didn't sate the hunger in my pussy but I did feel a little bit cooler and a little bit more exposed.

My fingers trailed along the lips of my sex and my stomach lurched at the touch. I was horny and I wanted to come but something would happen. What had Cynthia said. Shit, my heels. If I came I'd have to wear my heels or my boobs would get bigger and bigger and bigger. I couldn't let that happen. My heels were in the car; I had to get them. No, I reasoned, I didn't need them unless I masturbated. I just had to keep my hands out of my panties.

I pulled my hand out of my slacks and tried to get some work done. I could feel the need in my body, a tingling in my crotch and a tightening in my stomach. My mouth was dry and every second that passed was one where I knew eventually I'd lose. I was horny and I was allowed to come. Why wasn't I playing with my pussy?

Because of the heels. I needed my heels. I looked at my office door. Carley was sitting at her desk just outside my office not knowing the turmoil I was enduring. What would she say if she knew I had a pussy between my legs and that I was as horny as humanly possible? Should I send her to my car for my heels and my purse? A girl should always carry her purse. Where had I heard that?

I spent ten minutes looking over a few lines of code and then I spent an equal amount of time caressing my pussy through my black dress pants. This wasn't working. I wasn't going to get anything done if I didn't just satisfy that need that was making my body tense and my panties wet. I could come and then go get my heels. I'm sure I could hide them in something. It wouldn't take that long to go down to my car and come back. Surely it would be less than ten minutes. And, as Cynthia had said, who would notice a slight swelling in my chest.

I locked my office door. If Carley heard she gave no indication. I unbuckled my belt, slid my pants and panties to my knees and rubbed myself with the ferocity of the Tasmanian Devil from those old Bugs Bunny cartoons. My fingers were a blur, stroking my clit in huge, rapid circles. I felt my toes curl and my heart race as my orgasm overtook me. I shut my eyes, seeing stars and feeling my pussy hungrily grab my probing fingers. I came, panting into my hot office. The intensity waned but a slight tingling remained. Maybe one more. Women would do that far easier than men. The second orgasm took a little over five minutes. The third another five after that. I came just as I felt my breasts grow. It wasn't subtle; I felt a tingling, like when your arm falls asleep because you laid on it for too long, and then they were there, two soft bumps rising from my chest.

I looked down, seeing the gentle swell. They weren't really noticeable. I was certain that nobody else could tell that I was like a twelve-year-old girl just getting her breasts, but I knew they were there. I glanced around my office. I didn't see my jacket. Of all the days to forget to wear a suit jacket. Heels. I needed my heels. The clock was ticking.

I looked around my office, trying to find something, anything, I could use to hide heels while I carried them from the car. The only thing that would work was the little round garbage can sitting next to my desk. I picked it up and raced out to my car. Carley called after me, causing me to mutter something about running to the car.

My suite of office was on the third floor of a six-story building. Starting out I had simply worked from home but as the business took off I found myself with more work than I could do. That led me to expanding my workforce to me and two other programmers, all three of us working from home. Still, as our name recognition grew, so too did the staff and by the third year of business I had had to rent, first a half floor and then a full floor of office suites and cubical space. I was the only one with a secretary though I was sure, as the business grew, I'd need to add more secretarial staff, too. I now had a total of fourteen employees, including a full time human resources direction and another full-time payroll manager who had the fortunate last name of Cash. Now, as I was rushing down the stairs from my third-floor office I was acutely aware of each passing second. Ten minutes isn't that much time when the consequences were so great. Why hadn't I worn a jacket? In all the years of going to the office I could not recall a day I had not arrived professionally attired.

I dashed to my car, throwing open the passenger side door. I fished my heels from the floorboard and threw them into the garbage can. With my shoes now with me I ran back to my office, only slowing when I was passing any of my employees. I couldn't let them seem me so frazzled and how many minutes had it been? I had to get those heels on in a hurry; without a jacket, anything larger than an A-cup would mostly likely be noticeable.

I shut myself in my office and donned my shoes. I hadn't felt that tell-tale tingle so I thought I was safe. Now that my heels were strapped to my feet did the ten-minute timer reset or would it continue if I had to take the shoes off my feet. It felt deliciously naughty to be wearing the heels in my office. So much so that I found my hand once again snaking into my panties. I didn't masturbate, I simply caressed the soft flesh between my legs, shivering at my touch.

I paced my office, enjoying the feel of my heels almost as much as I savored the daring excitement of wearing them. This was the riskiest thing I'd ever done and I didn't have a choice. Just that thought made me caress my pussy again.

I sat at my desk and got some work done. I kept my heels flat on the ground, savoring the erotic feel of my feet held in their delicious arch. Carley came in once to have me approve a letter and just talking to her while hiding my heels under my desk made me excited. I felt like a teenager that got away with sneaking some whiskey from their parent's liquor cabinet. That feeling seemed to lead to some naughty thoughts. I could stay trapped in my office all day; I didn't have to leave and since I was the boss if anyone needed to check in with me, well, they could come to me.

Feeling daring and already thinking I was getting away with something kinky, I slipped off my heels. I sat at my desk, waiting for the buzz to come. I kept glancing down at my chest, waiting for what I knew was coming. I looked at the heels and at my naked feet, I looked at my chest inside my thin dress shirt and then glanced back at my heels again. Cynthia had done it; she had found a way to force me to wear my heels at work all day. By setting the triggers with the Wererock she had made it so that I had to perform some task or face the consequences. Once again, I was floored by the power of that icy stone.

A tingling in my nipples announced the next ten-minute mark. The timer hadn't reset when I donned the shoes; I couldn't have slipped off my heels more than three minutes earlier. I felt the tingle and then watched as my breasts expanded. They were not that noticeable unless you knew to look for them but I knew they were there and that was enough. I quickly donned my shoes again.

Another hour went by, the shoes safely strapped to my feet. I got even more work done and was feeling good about how the day was progressing. Still, what if I took my shoes off again? My A-cup breasts were nothing more than hard bulges; they didn't really bounce. I was certain I could go up another half size without risking exposure. The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. It was a risky game I could play with myself. Is this how Cynthia felt when she obeyed her faceless mistress? This excitement tinged with a hint of fear?

I took off my heels, donned my work shoes and made a quick tour of my office. I talked to Carley for a moment, asking her about her night and her upcoming baby. I sighed two forms that she needed me to sign before visiting the central programming hub. The hub was just eight cubicles arranged in quads. Currently two were empty; I truly hoped I could put Cynthia in one of them.

How much time had passed?

I stopped in the restroom and took care of business. I didn't have to go, but it was an excuse to delay returning to my office for a moment longer. I felt my panties gush at the risk I was taking. Peeing with a vagina still felt foreign yet that excited me, too. I sat on the toilet for a few minutes, wondering why I hadn't run back to my office. Still, a half cup size wouldn't be that noticeable. Would it? I sat there waiting for the timer to expire and when it did I felt my pussy clench exactly when my chest tingled and grew. My breast became just a little bit bigger. I stood up and felt my breasts bounce. Just a little bit but it was there. I glanced at my chest and thought I could see a bulge beneath my shirt. Would anybody else notice?

I walked back to my office, now aware of the clock. It took less than a minute to return to my desk and less than another thirty seconds to don the shoes. That time had come off the next ten-minute deadline. Next time I'd have B-cup breasts. Could I hide those? That was the thought I tried to shake as I returned to work.

Lunch time came and with it the thought that I should go fetch something from the deli across the street. They had good sandwiches and an amazing BLT. Typically, it took less than ten minutes to run to the deli, get my sandwich and return to my desk. But I didn't have ten minutes. I had maybe eight. Was it worth the risk? If I had my jacket I'd go, that much was certain, but somehow, I left it at home this morning. Cynthia had proven to be an exciting distraction. Eight minutes, should I do it? I shut my eyes and imagined Cynthia ordering me to go get lunch. Hurry, she said, in her soft, lilting voice, you don't want your boobs to get bigger out on the street do you?

No, I didn't.

But maybe you do, the voice of Mistress Cynthia came to me. Is this how she felt when she obeyed her imagined owner? It was exciting and it was scary and yet somehow, I knew I would have to do it no matter how insane the idea seemed.

I slipped off my heels, put on my dress shoes and stepped out of the office. I stopped at Carley's desk and asked if she wanted anything. I think I did that just to stall. It wasn't planned, at least I don't think it was, but still I felt a full minute tick by. My whole body felt tense. I took Carley's order and then left the building. I skirted my car, wondering if I'd be able to take solace in it if my breasts became too big to hide.

The deli wasn't overly crowded; it was a little bit past their lunch rush. There was only one person in front of me, an old man with white hair and thick, white, fluffy eyebrows, who was ordering a pastrami sandwich. He placed his order, and then I placed mine. I did opt for the BLT. I felt the seconds racing by like a river. Each one bringing me closer and closer to a larger breast size. Why was I taking this risk? It was silly. It was stupid. It was damned exciting. It felt like every nerve in my body was abuzz like an angry bee hive. I felt alive and scared; a damsel in some B-grade horror movie.

The old man received his sandwich and a moment later I picked up my order. It was going to be close. I started back towards the office. I made it half way across the parking lot when it happened. The buzz in my chest started and became a quick, maddening itch before it faded away. Just like that my tits were noticeably bigger. It wasn't just the size that made them stand out but the volume. Do the math. I felt them wobble and dance with each step. I brought my sandwich bags higher, using them to hide my chest. My tits weren't huge but they were big and they were noticeable. How the hell was I going to hide them?

I took the stairs. Most people took the elevator so that minimized my exposure. Walking through the third-floor suite, I kept my back turned towards any of my employees. Nobody stopped me in the hallway as they were all caught up in their work or their own lunch. So far so good. I got lucky; Carley wasn't at her desk. I put her order on her desk and then dashed into my office. A minute later I was wearing my heels. That had been close. Too close.

But damn did I feel aroused. Almost getting caught gave me the feeling of getting away with something and that made me want to try it again. I felt caught up in a game where I always had to outdo the turn before. It was scary and stupid and I felt like an addict needing a hit of something just a tad stronger than the last dose.

Carley popped into my office to thank me for her lunch. I had moved my computer monitor between me and the door so that kept me shielded. I joked that tomorrow she could play gopher. She laughed, agreed, and returned to her desk. That reminded me that I'd have to find a replacement; Carley had worked with me for two years. I would feel her absence; she knew exactly what I needed done and how I wanted it completed.

I got another hour worth of work done when the desire to up the risk returned. I glanced at my dress shoes sitting beneath my desk. Should I risk it? Cynthia's voice popped up and that made up my mind, even if her voice was only in my head. I put on my own shoes and went to the bathroom. I followed that up with a trip to the lounge to make a cup of coffee. I could have had Carley make me a cup, but this wasn't about the coffee. This was about those terrifying ten minutes.

I returned to my office and waited out the change. The tingling came and went and with it my boobs were bigger. Much bigger but I knew they could get bigger still. I locked the door and masturbated for ten more minutes, almost coming when my breast grew again. There was no hiding them now.

I put my heels back on. An hour later I took them off again. It was far too exciting to tempt fate and see just how big I could make them. Ten minute later I was sporting breasts half way between a C-cup and a full D. They looked huge. Not mammoth like I had taken into Publix, but far too big to hide behind my classy dress shirt. Hell, now they were probably too big to conceal beneath my jacket had I remembered to wear it to work.

Cynthia texted me an odd "LOL" with nothing to go with it. I responded, asking her what she was laughing at but my phone remained stubbornly silent. Oh well, I would see her for dinner and ask her what she meant. Reading her text made me think of her commanding me to take off my heels. Of course, I obeyed. Now I was sporting a full rack of perfectly huge tits.

Carley left at four, asking me if I needed anything before she left.

"I'm good, thanks Carley. See you tomorrow." I called over my monitor so that she couldn't see my tits.

After she left I took my heels off again. I guess Cynthia hadn't found a way for me to keep them on. She did, however, find a fun way for me to switch between playing with my growing tits and wearing those sexy shoes. I still felt excited when I risked taking my heels off and each time I felt the buzz in my chest as my boobs grew I felt a rising wave of pleasure in my pussy.

I left the office about an hour later than normal just to make sure I was the last one to leave. I carried my heels with me, hoping that nobody was around to see them or my now gigantic chest. I left work sporting double-d's. That thought aroused me, too. It had been an exciting day and I was looking forward to dinner with Cynthia.

I started for home but before I was half way there Cynthia called me and directed me to her place. I drove to Cynthia's and during the twenty minute drive my chest grew two more sizes. The seatbelt cut into my chest. My tits were huge and heavy and I was starting to really feel the pull of them. By the time I arrived at Cynthia's, the sun had disappeared below the horizon and the sky had turned a soft purple tinged with pink. It was a lovely sky made even lovelier by Cynthia's pretty face when she opened the door.

"How's my girl?" She asked, ogling my chest.

"Stacked," I responded. I gave her a kiss. She kissed me back, reaching up to fondle my breasts. I trembled at her touch.

"Did you have fun today?"

I admitted that I had. I told her all about my day and by the end of it she was laughing so hard that her eyes were damp.