Through A Lens Darkly by Nomdreserv (TG, AP, Muscles, WG)

[TheoW]

Some interesting side effects from Meg's new lenses.

Written as a series of experiments to try out some old and new transformations in a series of quickies. No plot to get in the way. Includes AR, AP, furry, weight gain, amazon and TG transformations.

Through A Lens Darkly
by Nomdreserv

Meg stood nervously, shifting from one foot to the other, examining incredulously the camera lenses in their protective bubble wrap.

"Are you sure these work? Have you tried them?" she asked the distinguished looking gentleman behind the counter.

"Please, Ms. Ross. All my items are guaranteed." Mr. Rook smiled serenely. He was dressed rather well for the ostensible owner of this small curio shop. Strangely, the shop never seemed to have idle customers or browsers, but somehow, those who needed its services or special wares seemed to find it, sometimes without realizing why they went in. "They are made exactly to specifications, no matter how ... unusual."

"Just hard to believe," she shook her head in disbelief.

Meg Ross was an attractive woman in her mid fifties. Men of a certain age would still have recognized her as one of the top pin-up models from a generation ago, gracing the cover of many a fashion magazine, but especially as a three time cover girl for the Sports Manipulated swimsuit issue.

Mind, if you mentioned it to her, you’d get a withering glance in answer. Sports Manipulated (the SM motto: "We’ll make you read about sports you’ve never even heard of.") was a preeminent, if sometimes irrelevant, sports magazine which, once a year, fed the male desire for … other interests ... by publishing a famous (or infamous) issue devoted to models in and out of skimpy swimsuits. This was invariably accompanied by screams from the feminists and was generally decried by the politically correct, even if secretly beloved by men ("No, really, honey - there’s an article about, um … competitive plant misting I wanted to read. That’s why I bought it.").

At the age of 35, Meg's world had come tumbling down. She had been stunned to learn that the magazine had canceled her contract for another photo shoot, putting out the word that she just didn’t test well in their market anymore. Like dominoes, her other opportunities had fallen, and her career had essentially disappeared overnight. In a culture that prized youth above all else, she had become fashion anathema. The unceremonious SM dumping seemed to be the focus point, and she sometimes suspected she’d been blacklisted for spurning the publisher’s advances.

Attempts to move into TV and movies had been almost comically unsuccessful, and by age 40, she was a fading memory. At this point, she rebuilt her career from the ground up, starting with an area she knew - modeling - but switching to the other side of the camera. By 45, she was making a living at it, by 50 she had reestablished her name in the industry, finally achieving one of the top names again in fashion, and now, in a sort of artistic reincarnation, she had been asked to shoot the SM swimsuit edition. She had at first considered refusing the offer as a personal statement and triumph, but then had happened upon Mr. Rook’s store (she had assumed by chance, but after finding out more about him, she wondered), and an entirely different idea had resulted. The prospect was tantalizing, but the lens filters would cost most of her replenished savings.

As though reading her mind, Rook continued. "My prices are actually quite reasonable - given the unique nature of the merchandise."

"Agreed. If these work as promised."

"Try them out," he suggested. "If you’re dissatisfied, you can return them." He smiled. "But my customers rarely complain. Unlike some of my sorcerous competition, I prefer repeat business. We’re not all wish-twisting tricksters, despite what you may read. Some of us are simple entrepreneurs."

Meg examined the clearly labeled lenses, each promising a specific "enhancement" she had outlined.

"And the duration?"

"Your discretion. If you wish an early reversal, simply wipe the lens with this cleansing solution." He indicated a blue bottle, then pointed to a red. "And if you desire the changes to be permanent, a drop of this will do the trick."

"And the pictures?"

"At your request, the ... How did you put it? Oh yes, the ‘Dorian Grey’ effect is in place. Activate by wiping the negative with this solution." A final, brown bottle. "A word of caution. The subject will remain unaware of the specific changes, but may still notice that something is wrong, depending on how extreme the change is."

"Understood." She smiled. "I’ll let you know how it works."

"I look forward to it, madam."

...............................................................................................................................................

The day of the shoot dawned bright and clear. Meg prepared her equipment while the first models changed in their tent. Her tests with the lenses had proved Mr. Rook’s claims as to their efficacy, and she looked forward to some very different photo work. In preparation, she had insisted on being alone with the models - for "artistic purity." This had caused some grumbling, but her new reputation for remarkable results carried the day, and both the publisher and models finally agreed. The various tents for changing and such had been set up before sunrise, on a secluded, private beach where she could be sure of not being disturbed. Meg's trusted assistant would drop each off at a certain time for her session, and then leave. The models would all be picked up together, giving Meg a chance to explain her plan to the group.

First up was a relative newcomer, a teen model with the single name, Sabrina. She had blond hair and a pale complexion with scattered freckles. She had small, high, firm breasts, narrow hips, and long, slender legs that made her look even younger than her 19 years. She did a lot of modeling work for teen magazines, but this was her first SM shoot, an attempt to shift into an older demographic group. She wore a petulant expression as she stepped out of the tent wrapped in a towel against the cool morning air.

"It’s really stupid to be out on the beach at 6 AM," she whined.

"That’s modeling," Meg shrugged. "Gotta set up before the crowds, and we may need all day. As the new girl, you’re stuck with first shift."

"Yuck!" She grimaced and rolled her eyes. "Like, I will be sooo glad when I’m old like you and can retire."

"Careful what you wish for," Meg muttered, selecting her lens and attaching it to her camera. "OK, towel off. Let’s move down to the water."

Sabrina shrugged off her cover, revealing a vast expanse of smooth, white skin set off by a neon orange bikini with canary yellow piping. The bold colors and micro size of the suit meant it could only look good on a young and very fit body. Oh well ...

Click. Meg took her first exposure, and felt a thrill as she did. She had gotten the idea for her special lenses from the old adage that "the camera adds ten pounds and ten years." Ten seemed like an awful lot to add at once, so she had insisted on slower changes, and she wanted the pounds and years separated, not to mention some additional special effects, but in essence, her lenses would turn that metaphor to reality. She started snapping pictures, Sabrina unaware that each camera click aged her one year.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Sabrina’s face matured into adult perfection, and her breasts and legs filled in more. At first her breasts maintained their firm, upright shape, but as she passed her mid twenties, they began to droop just a bit with their increased size. Her hips and ass could no longer be called androgynous, having spread noticeably to full womanly proportions. Her aging also revealed a slight tendency for weight gain, and her figure began filling out more universally as Meg kept her camera clicking. Based on her gorgeous looks, Meg figured she’d be able to keep modeling until well into her thirties … or, in this case, another ten seconds or so.

Suddenly, the 30 year old Sabrina signaled a halt.

"This stupid suit is too tight!" she complained, her voice a half octave lower. She pulled at the constricting top which mashed her larger, adult breasts, spilling creamy, smooth flesh revealingly out the sides, and emphasizing her squeezed cleavage. Then she tried to pull the seemingly shrinking bikini bottom more evenly across her enlarging hips and ass. "Geez, " she added, rolling her eyes. "Like I told 'em my size and everything. They must've messed up."

"It'll stretch," Meg assured her. "And you look great. Hot. And more mature."

"Really?" Sabrina perked up. One of the ideas for this shoot was for her to break out of her established mold. Life as a teen princess was limited, and she wanted to look older and move into adult fashion. "Cool. OK, let's go."

She began vamping again, while Meg clicked the years on. Her breasts enlarged just a bit more, but began to sag more obviously, straining the teen-sized top. Her thighs filled in, then overfilled, rubbing against each other as she moved, and beginning to show small dimples and looser skin. Her stomach pooched out, and a small fat roll formed across the top of her hips. Meg was glad she hadn't also used her weight gain lens - the subtle but delicious effect of the girl's own tendency to add pounds as she matured would have been ruined.

The rapidly aging, forty-something woman continued to strike what she hoped were flattering and sexy poses, unaware that her suit now looked ridiculous on her matronly figure. Crow's feet and faint lines appeared on her face. Her freckles had darkened and spread, and now age spots joined them in ruining her porcelain complexion. (The sun could be harsh over time to fair-skinned victims.) Cellulite dimples and lumps became obvious on her thighs, and the skin of her stomach began to wrinkle and sag with her slightly larger paunch.

"Break!" she called, slightly out of breath and feeling strangely tired and stiff. "I need to catch my breath." Her voice was even lower and just a bit scratchy. Her blond hair was dull and lifeless, showing a number of gray highlights, and looked ridiculous in her long, teen style.

"Don't stop!" Meg called, exhilarated and feeling an incredible rush watching the changes in the former teen model. "We're in a groove!"

She kept clicking, and Sabrina moved well into her fifties. She hadn't aged as well as the still fit Meg. Her spotted paunch began to sag over the bikini bottoms, and her drooping ass cheeks hung below its seams. She lost tone in her legs, her calves thinning and losing their curves, while her thighs became looser and lumpier as fat replaced muscle. Her breasts sagged badly, twisting the bikini top down and exposing more of their freckled, wrinkled tops. Her hair was mostly gray and thinner, and her cheeks sagged into jowls.

"Climb up on that rock," Meg suggested. "I wanna get some angled shots."

"Sure," Sabrina agreed uncertainly. The rock looked awfully high, and she felt a sudden fear of falling which was new to her. Lifting a leg shakily, she snapped it back immediately in surprise and her hand shot out to grab at her hip. Slowly, she extended the leg again, putting a skinny foot with varicose veins gingerly onto the rock. When she tried to step up, she almost dropped to the sand. "Ow!" She flexed an increasingly knobby knee experimentally. "My legs hurt," she said in surprise.

"Must have strained them," Meg offered in mock sympathy. "Guess I picked too big a rock. Why don't you do one of those cartwheels you're famous for?" Still the camera clicked.

"Um, okay," Sabrina agreed, her grandmotherly face dubious. Her hair was all gray and stringy, and in her lined, sagging face, it was almost impossible to recognize the faded remnants of the perky teen who had started the shoot. In a practiced move, she rolled onto her hands ...

And collapsed with a splat onto the sand, arms and legs flailing. Meg had snapped her final pictures with the attempted cartwheel and felt she had enough for now.

"You okay?" she asked, running to help the elderly woman up.

Sabrina wheezed, too disoriented to notice that the attempted athleticism had dislodged her breasts from the overstrained top, and the wrinkled, pendulous bags hung over her bikini, drooping to her stomach as she sat, dazed and confused. Her thighs had started thinning again, but primarily due to continued muscle loss. As a result, the splotched, skin hung loosely in folds. Tortuous veins marked her stick-like calves.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice querulous and higher-pitched again. "I got so dizzy ..." She tried to stand, but fell again as worse pain shot through her arthritic joints. Meg grabbed at her shoulders to help her.

"Here we go," she said cheerily, pulling Sabrina to her unsteady feet. "I think I've got enough for this suit. You're, um, hanging out by the way."

Sabrina gasped, shocked at the drooping, almost unrecognizable breasts lying flat against her chest. Then, her brow furrowed - something was wrong, but she couldn't quite place what it was. Her boobs were ... naked - that was it. She hated letting people see her withered breasts. With palsied hands she tried to get them back into the too tight bikini top.

"They won't fit," she mumbled, voice shaking. "Knew this suit wasn't right."

"That's all right," Meg reassured her, grabbing the towel to cover the bent over elderly figure. "Why don't you take a rest in the break tent - try on another suit. Maybe something less revealing, huh?"

"Oh, yes," Sabrina agreed gratefully, shuffling off. "Maybe a nice skirted suit ..."

Meg walked to the dressing tent.

"Next!" she thought.

END PART 1

copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Through A Lens Darkly
by Nomdreserv

Part 2


Meg examined her bag carefully, trying to decide on her next lens. So many choices, so few models.

In this case, the woman waiting with a bored expression for Meg to make her choice was Rachel Artemis, an established model famous for her gorgeous red hair and smooth, flawless complexion. It was seeing her hair waft in the breeze that gave Meg her idea. She screwed the new lens on with a smile.

"OK, ready," she announced.

"About time," Rachel shrugged her long robe off, revealing a bright green one piece, cut high on the sides to expose all of her thighs and hips, but with a daring neckline to emphasize her medium size breasts. She shook out her mane of red hair, cut to just past shoulder length, and began presenting herself in practiced style to the camera. "Standard poses?" she asked, not really interested.

"Nothing standard about my work," Meg smiled. "Just go ahead."

The first few clicks produced little visible effect, but then Meg noticed Rachel’s hair had become fuller, a bit wilder, and now hung to mid back. Nothing unusual. In fact, many women would have pronounced themselves eager to get a similar effect.

Then again, maybe not. Meg watched carefully as she continued to shoot pictures. Close examination revealed Rachel's faint, thin arm and leg hairs becoming more and more prominent, especially on her forearms and calves. At first, it merely looked as though Rachel hadn't shaved her legs in a few weeks - an unthinkable lapse for a supermodel - but soon the arm hair became thick enough to produce an orange haze to her skin, and the leg hair was rapidly spreading up her thighs, ruining that flawless china skin that Rachel prized.

"More film," Meg announced, signaling a break. Normally, she'd have assistants handling all of the film and camera changes, but she had insisted on being alone with the models for this job, ostensibly for "artistic purity." Well, it was art, but on her own terms.

"Sure." Rachel scratched idly at her itching arms and legs, not noticing the uncharacteristic tickle as she stroked the hair. She did notice, though, that her fingernails were a bit longer than usual, and she stopped to study them critically as Meg adjusted her camera. They were smooth and healthy looking - in fact, she'd never seen them look so strong and shiny - but clearly needed some shaping: the tips were elongated almost to points, and much sharper than normal.

Meg took the opportunity to study Rachel's face. She had almost expected to find a beard or mustache, but instead there was just a reddish fuzz evenly distributed. She also noticed Rachel's green eyes had an unusual intensity and gleam, and the iris had taken on an oval shape. Her arms and legs appeared more toned, with a leaner, more muscular shape. Very interesting.

"OK, let's get some actions shots," Meg suggested, snapping rapidly.

This suited Rachel fine, because she was feeling unexpectedly energetic as the shoot proceeded. She was glad to forgo the standard standing and smiling shots, and instead began to assume crouching and jumping positions. It felt really good to gather her legs beneath her and suddenly spring forward, , glorying in the wind whipping her long, red hair behind her. She felt it swish against her lower back, and didn't care as it became wilder and disarrayed, coming around her eyes in front when she landed. It tickled her ears, but she didn't notice them start to twitch in response.

By now, the reddish fuzz had spread to cover most of her exposed skin, even her breasts, while the arm and leg hair would have been obvious to even a casual observer as it curled and spread into an encasing fringe that gave her limbs a slightly shaggy appearance. Her jumps and springs were increasingly athletic, each faster and covering a greater distance. Meg noticed that she had a tendency now to drop into a feral crouch between leaps, her eyes darting swiftly from side to side. She also noted with some puzzlement a slight bulge at the back of Rachel’s suit, at the level of her upper buttocks. At first knob-like, it seemed to lengthen and then flatten against her ass.

Rachel might well have surpassed the world record for long jump by now, but she wasn't paying any attention to her prodigious leaps. She was much too interested in trying to process the incredible smells and sounds that were suddenly becoming so obvious to her. The camera clicks were incredibly sharp, and she could hear Meg breathing quietly. The scent of the sea began to resolve into innumerable individual smells, most of which she had never noticed before. She could even detect Meg’s odor, despite the distance between them, and immediately recognized it as uniquely hers, instinctively processing it into memory. So many other smells were also on the breeze, uncertain or unrecognizable. She had to fight an urge to dart off and investigate them.

Rachel's nails continued to lengthen and sharpen, and she started to flex her fingers unconsciously, not noticing that her nails seemed to retract or extend slightly with the motion. She brushed again at her mane of wild, red hair, briefly exposing ears that were now pointed, placed higher than usual, and partially covered with fur. Her green eyes now had an almost vertical pupil and shone unnaturally, and her eyesight was now much sharper, but also attuned to motion. Her head snapped sideways several times as birds passed nearby, and she narrowed her eyes to watch them coldly.

"OK to keep going?" Meg asked, fascinated and still clicking rapidly.

"Perrrr ... ahem, perrrrfect ... I mean OK," Rachel answered, trying to ignore the surprising rumble her voice had developed. Truth was, she'd never felt so good during a shoot: strong and alive. The only drawback was an increasing hunger. Like most models, she was fanatical about calories and healthy food, and had brought her usual snacks of rice cakes and fresh vegetables with her. But now, she found herself thinking of that stuff as unappealingly bland and insubstantial, if not outright distasteful. What she wanted was ... a cheeseburger. Thick and juicy. Very juicy. Or maybe a steak. A thick, juicy slab of meat cooked rare - the rarer the better. She unconsciously licked her tongue along a row of slightly pointed teeth, not noticing the exaggerated canines that were now present.

Even Rachel's face and body hair was obviously thickening now (though her breast fur remained especially soft and silky), and developing subtle textures and shading, with the dominant reddish orange being set off by darker bands that gave her a tigerish appearance. Her scalp hair now hung past her ass, obscuring the bulge Meg had noticed earlier until Rachel suddenly called a halt.

"Be rrrrright with you," she explained, continuing in a throaty purr even after finishing the sentence. Casually and instinctively, she reached a hand behind her and extended a razor sharp nail from her index finger, using it to slice a small hole into the lower back of her suit. Immediately, a long, orange-striped tail sprang out and twitched in relief.

"Much betterrrrr," Rachel announced, apparently unconcerned by her new appendage. "Rrrready?" She dropped to a crouch and smiled, displaying sharp, strong white teeth and extended claws, and an intense look that now settled on Meg and frankly made her nervous. Rachel was beginning to look a little too ... wild.

"Wh ... why don't we take a break," Meg suggested, deciding against any further exposure to this lens.

"Grrrreat," Rachel returned, standing straight briefly to stretch, her lithe muscles obvious even beneath her beautiful and now virtually complete pelt. Meg could see a pointed ear twitching high on her head as she looked around. "I'd love to get something to eat." Intense green eyes came back to rest on Meg, much to her discomfort.

"Um ... I've got danish and coffee ..."

Rachel made a disgusted face, then perked up at the sound of some nearby seagulls, obscured from sight by a grass covered sand dune. She dropped to a low crouch, tail twitching, and started to circle around towards the tall beach grass.

"Neverrr mind," she growled quietly. "I'll serrrve myself."

And with a remarkable bound almost too quick to follow, she disappeared.


END PART 2

copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Through a Lens Darkly

by Nomdreserv

Part 3

Kate Mock came out of the tent, adjusting her small, blue bikini one more time. Not that she had much to cover. As a teen model several years ago, she had epitomized the waif look, with a thin, boyish frame, barely-there breasts, long, straight legs, and a gaunt face. Older now, she clung tenaciously to the style despite decreased demand and persistent rumors about anorexia and ill health.

Time for a new look, Meg decided while attaching her new lens, taking in the skinny legs and prominent ribs so obvious in the brief swimsuit. After all, people say the camera adds 10 pounds ...

“Sure you don’t want some breakfast?” Meg asked solicitously. It was close to mid morning and Kate sure looked like she could use a meal.

“Oh, please!” Kate sneered. “I’m not some pig who needs to feed her face every morning. Let’s just shoot, OK?”

“You got it,” Meg agreed grimly.

As before, the changes started slowly, barely detectable until after a half dozen clicks. The earliest were subtle - Kate’s skin took on a healthier sheen, filling out and becoming smoother and tighter. Her gaunt cheeks filled in, and her face became softer and prettier. Then the changes became more obvious on her body. At first, it was a distinct improvement as the weight was added to places it should be on a woman. Soon, she sported noticeable cleavage where before there had been mere swellings beneath the blue top. Her bottom became full and round, finally stretching the bikini bottom the way it had been designed, and her legs became much fuller, displaying real, feminine curves at calf and thigh instead of the pipe stems she had started with. Meg snapped faster.

At this point, she was still instantly recognizable as Kate Mock, but now boasted a real woman’s body in place of the skinny, boyish one she had starved herself to maintain. Even as her stomach finally began to round out, finally producing the first bulge, most everyone would have said it was a distinct improvement.

As her transformation progressed, however, their opinions might have started to reverse. Her breasts and buttocks continued to expand, giving her a full figured look that would have made her gasp if she had noticed, but the increased proportion of fat softened them, and they began to sag a bit, jiggling as she walked into the surf. The space between her thighs filled in, and they also began to quiver a bit as she jumped in the waves, while her stomach now definitely bulged out above her increasingly tight suit bottom. Her face rounded further, and a second chin began to appear when she flexed her neck.

“Hold on a sec,” Kate called, pulling futilely in an attempt to loosen her now binding suit. “This thing is too small - keeps riding up on me. Water must have shrunk it or something.”

“Or something,” Meg agreed, smiling at the Rubensesque figure before her.

The overstretched bikini was having increasing difficulty containing the soft, expanding flesh beneath it. Both the tops and bottoms of her breasts had started to push out beyond their confining bands, at least two or three cup sizes too small now, and the bottom rode low as her widening hips effaced the fabric, exposing the top of her ass cheeks. Kate was discovering that the bikini was not a forgiving garment to the over-endowed.

“Don’t worry,” Meg continued, continuing to snap pictures. “It’s Lycra and Spandex. Should stretch to fit anyway.” At least for a while, she thought.

Kate pulled hard at her suit bottom trying to restore its fit, sending an echoing ripple through her now sagging tummy and a second roll of fat that started to form above it. This had to be the worst designed suit she’d ever worn, and it was ridiculous the way it shrank after getting wet. Talk about useless. Only somebody with her figure could even hope to carry it off.

Though the last traces of that figure were fast disappearing. She had passed full figured, was well into plump, and was closing on rotund. Her abdomen’s increased size began to push her fat arms out to her sides, and every step produced a quivering resonance in her flabby legs and arms and the roll of fat drooping further down her stomach. Her thighs, close to three times their former width, were losing their smoothness as fat continued to build up, and now rubbed against each other with each movement, chafing her skin and restricting her movements. She also found it more and more difficult to jump with the waves, as her overtaxed muscles tried to cope with close to triple their expected load.

“How about I take a break and dry off?” an out of breath Kate called, looking hopefully out from a round face with full double chin. She hoped she could take the opportunity to get out of this rubber band of a suit she’d been stuck with, but had another motive as well. The idea of breakfast, scorned earlier, had become strangely appealing, especially remembering those luscious danish and doughnuts she had seen. Apparently, the lens could adjust metabolism as well as make physical changes, and she felt an uncontrollable desire for fats and sweets building in her.

“Sure,” Meg agreed casually, still clicking unobtrusively. “Maybe a coffee break?”

“Oh, well,” Kate licked her lips. “I mean, if you insist. Coffee. Sure. And ... um ... you still have those goodies, right? No one else has had a chance to get their hands ... I mean, if they’re just sitting there and everything.”

“Don’t worry. I brought lots. Thought we might get hungry.”

Kate made straight for the tent, as fast as she could manage with her increased weight and restricted movements. Meg followed behind her, still clicking, and watching her ponderous ass sway as she adopted more of a waddling gait to accommodate her ballooned legs. Her rolling buttocks almost engulfed the tiny blue bikini bottom that now looked like a thong, barely covering any of the vast expanse of soft, new flesh. Her thighs shook with every ponderous step, and the skin was now pockmarked by cellulite deposits. She had two distinct rolls of fat sitting above her protuberant belly, which now threatened to cover the suit front as it sagged and swayed. Her bikini top looked like a ribbon stretched across huge, drooping breasts - at least DDD, and topped with stiff, fat nipples that tented the taut fabric.

By the time she reached the tent, she seemed to slosh from side to side as she walked, and the suit top was cutting into her soft flesh and restricting her breathing. Pausing only long enough to confirm that the breakfast tray was intact and there was no one else in sight, she tried to reach her pudgy arms around her back, sausage-fat fingers fumbling at the bikini strap.

“God, I can’t breathe with this thing,” she mumbled, at last reaching the elusive clasp. With a spring, it was released, and the bikini top shot off like a rubber band, exposing massive, sagging mammaries that drooped onto her bulging tummy folds. “That’s better,” she sighed happily, wrapping herself in a towel, or as much as it could cover of her expanded form. She sat, Buddha-like, in front of the pastry tray, and grabbed a danish in each hand.

Meg entered the tent, amazed at the blimpish but happy woman stuffing her mouth greedily, unrecognizable as the infamously underweight model who had started the shoot.

“Take a break for a while?” she asked, surreptitiously snapping a couple of “candid” shots to finish the montage.

“Mmph,” Kate replied around a mouthful, reaching for another doughnut and smiling contentedly. She didn’t even pause as she heard the bikini bottom start to tear.

End part 3

copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Through a Lens Darkly

by Nomdreserv

Part 4

Jessica Banner was the next model to arrive, dropped off by Meg's assistant who promptly left again. Jessica felt somewhat uneasy as she walked the short distance down the beach, as though she was being watched, but, except for an imagined flash of orange in the grass when she looked around, she and Meg appeared to be alone on the beach.

Meg's smile and easy manner helped to reassure her as they walked to the changing tent.

"I picked out a couple of suits I thought would work," Meg offered. "But take your pick. We still have plenty to choose from."

Jessica looked around curiously. "Where are all the other models? I thought we were going back together."

"You are," Meg answered. "Let's see. Sabrina’s in the far tent, resting. Her session really took a lot out of her. Rachel is prowling the beach somewhere. And Kate's in the refreshment tent over there. I'm afraid there may not be much left for anyone else to eat once she's done."

Jessica's eyes went wide. "Kate Mock is eating? I don't think I've ever seen real food pass her lips. I assumed she lived on air or something."

"In that case, she looks a bit overinflated," Meg said softly, then added in a louder voice. "It’s part of my total makeover process. I love to make people see themselves in a new way. We'll have to see what we can do to change your image with today's shoot."

Jessica looked at the available suits with some trepidation. She was still a relative novice in modeling, having gotten a late start in her teens. She had a beautiful face, which had been her ticket to fame, but felt self conscious about her slight frame, especially her small breasts, and relatively short, thin legs. She stood only five-two, and was used to looking up at people, even other women like Meg, and knew her short stature would limit how far her career would go. She was perfect for close-ups, but couldn't do fashion work, and had been surprised and pleased when asked to do a swimsuit shoot.

She held up a one piece critically, while making conversation.

"I like your work," she said sincerely. "You really have an eye for bringing out unusual features in your subjects."

Meg smiled. "Very perceptive. I try."

"I'd love to work with you. Maybe I can stay on after my pictures and help out?"

"Well ..."

"Just think about it.” She discarded the suit and looked around again. “You picked a nice spot. A bit isolated though."

"The way I like it. Really allows me to work magic with my subjects."

Jessica pulled up her shorts to bare her legs. "Think you can do something to make these scrawny things look better?" she laughed.

"More than you know," Meg replied, changing her mind about her next lens.

"I’ll hold you to that. Be right out." She disappeared into the tent.

Meg scrambled through her equipment. She had already attached one magical lens to the camera, and rather than replace it, decided to simply attach a filter in combination for the new effect she wanted. In her haste, however, she dropped the filter onto the ground, where it struck a small stone in the sand. A quick examination showed no obvious scratch or break, so she simply screwed it on, just in time to see Jessica emerge in a white bikini with flashing silver trim.

"Nice," Meg appraised.

"Thanks. I'm supposed to wear light colors to emphasize what little I've got." She pointed to her slight bustline. "Not much there to work with."

"Let's see what my photo wizardry can do. We'll have you looking buffed and busty in these pictures."

"I wish." Jessica had actually tried weight training in an effort to enhance her curves, but had been frustrated by the lack of progress, and humiliated by the light weights which were all she could manage. She began posing at Meg's direction.

"Looking good," Meg informed her after a couple of minutes.

Jessica smiled as she glanced down involuntarily in response. At least her decision to wear the bikini seemed to have worked - she looked like she had real cleavage for a change. Must be some kind of miracle bra top. She thought about asking to keep the suit, but then reconsidered. She realized it was actually a little too tight now that she'd had a chance to work out in it.

To Meg, of course, it just proved her attachments were working as expected, and she watched Jessica's breasts slowly expand, pushing the bikini top down and out. She wanted to check to see if the additional filter was also doing its job. It was hard to tell on Jessica's small frame.

"Give me a muscle shot," she directed. "Flex your arm."

Jessica blushed, feeling Meg was deliberately making fun of her underdeveloped physique, but complied anyway. To her astonishment, a slight biceps bulge resulted.

"Whoa," she gasped, unable to resist feeling her arm (Meg captured the moment of recognition beautifully with another click). The muscle was firm and real - and more than she could ever remember. Those personal training sessions were paying off at last. Funny she hadn't noticed it while wearing regular clothes.

"Hey, look at me!" she called giddily, striking a double biceps pose, not noticing that each arm swelled at least an inch more than seconds before. "I'm Ms. Universe!"

"Not yet," Meg breathed. "But give me a few minutes." She did worry a bit that the relatively minor changes so far had been immediately recognized, but kept clicking anyway.

Jessica turned her attention to her legs. They also looked firmer and thicker than she remembered - it was amazing how different she looked in this bathing suit. She tensed her thigh muscles. Sure enough, there was a definition and palpable size to them that was new and exhilarating. She stood on her toes and looked over her shoulder at the increased rounding of her calf muscles. She liked what she saw, and decided to start training even harder from now on.

The only discordant note to her exultation was the increasing pressure on her chest. The bikini top was really binding her now, and looked distorted, making her assume it must have gotten disarranged. She looked more closely and gasped. Her breasts looked at least double their normal size, and pushed out around the small white cups. She reached up to squeeze experimentally, almost moaning at the pleasurable response. Yup - they were all her: big, firm, warm and feeling wonderful. But much larger, and leaving her bewildered. She stopped posing and looked at Meg with a perplexed expression.

"Um, Meg? Something's going on. I, um, well, I ..." She pointed at her ill-fitting top.

Meg stopped shooting, despite the erotic picture of the puzzled, increasingly toned and busty woman almost falling out of her tight and now too small bikini. Something had evidently gone wrong with the magic that kept the subject unaware. Perhaps unseen damage to the amazonian filter.

Jessica could read the lack of surprise in Meg's face at her changes, and walked over to confront her, looking directly into her eyes. "You know what's happening, don't you? How ... Oh my God!" She suddenly realized she was the same height as Meg. "I'm taller too? What's going on?" She grabbed Meg's sleeve, jerking her forward with unexpected strength.

Jessica had never been able to physically intimidate anyone with her short, slight frame, and experienced a giddy rush as she saw Meg flinch at her touch and the tone of threat in her voice.

Meg decided to explain. She was going to eventually as part of her plan, but had taken a liking to Jessica that almost made it a relief to share it with someone. At first, the model listened in shocked disbelief, then with a hint of anger, but as Meg finished, her expression changed to thoughtful consideration.

"So, it's temporary?" she asked appraisingly, unconsciously kneading her suddenly firm muscles and enhanced breasts. "You're sure? You've tested it?"

Meg nodded. "I could make it permanent, but won't. I can change you back right now if you want. I just wanted to make a statement, and maybe teach a few lessons."

Jessica nodded. "It's unbelievable." She flexed her arm experimentally, producing a biceps bulge the equal of an average man's. "Until you see it with your own eyes." She bounced back on her heels, setting her newly C cup breasts jiggling. "Or feel it." Meg had revealed she was using two different enhancers on Jessica - one for breast enlargement and the other for amazonian transformation. To be honest, she liked the results of both.

She looked at Meg with sudden decision. After a brief conversation that left them both smiling, Jessica briefly disappeared into the changing tent, emerging in a new version of the same suit, but many sizes larger.

"OK, boss," she saluted Meg. "Let's see what you can do."

Working together now, Meg shot rapidly as Jessica stretched and posed - and bulked up. Her breasts continued to expand, at least D cups now, and rapidly filling out the oversized top she had chosen, making her bust her most imposing feature.

But not for long. Her muscles also expanded and became much more clearly defined, even at rest, producing unaccustomed bulging of her thighs and upper arms. Now when she flexed her arm, she raised a softball sized biceps muscle that would be the envy of many a weight trainer, male or female. Her neck thickened, while her chest and shoulders broadened, etched with bands of taut muscle that rippled as she twisted and posed, and threatened to tear the increasingly distressed bikini top, already severely overburdened by her swelling breasts. Her calves swelled into bulging diamond-shaped cords. Her abdomen firmed, marked by an enlarging six pack of hard muscle. Even more remarkable, she now found herself looking down at the photographer, clearly gaining height as well as mass. Meg finally paused.

"Wow."

Jessica now stood six and a half feet tall, with muscles on muscles bulging from her thick arms and massive thighs. Only her melon sized breasts stretching the bikini top to the breaking point immediately identified her as female, since she was far more muscular than any woman Meg had ever seen. Her V-shaped chest tapered to a remarkably narrow waist, surmounted by a thick band of ridged abdominal muscles. Her body then flared into a still womanly pelvis graced by incredibly high and tight buttocks that pulled the bikini bottom taut. Her thighs were three times Meg's in width, and bulged with Hulk-like muscles that Jessica showed off with graceful flexing and posing. Her calves were rock-hard and powerful, and she probably had more strength in one now than she had started with in both thighs.

"You like?" Jessica flexed her arms, causing a mountain of new muscles to erupt that would have sent most men scurrying off in shame. Her voice had become deeper and much more resonant.

Meg nodded, patting her lens bag. "These pics will be a sensation. Mr. Rook was right. He does good work."

Jessica could feel unbelievable power coursing through her body. She had to test this out.

"May I?" she asked, walking over to the suddenly tiny looking photographer and grabbing her by the hips. Without waiting for an answer, she lifted Meg off the ground, almost throwing her into the air she felt so light. Meg gave a small cry as she found herself tossed easily from hand to hand like a toy.

"This is unbelievable," Jessica gushed. "You weigh like nothing."

She felt a general rush at her unimaginable strength, but also a sexual tingle at being so strong. She wondered how her boyfriend would react if he could see her now. Or when she picked him up like a little boy to squeeze him in her massive arms. She wanted to see his expression when she carried HIM off to the bedroom, helpless to resist. Her own expression became dreamy at the prospect.

"Uh, Jessica?" Meg, still bouncing from hand to hand, interrupted her daydream. "Up here, remember? I don't want to damage these lenses if I fall."

"Oops." Jessica blushed, setting her down gently. "Just thinking of ... um, how long can I stay like this?"

"A month," Meg replied. "That's when the issue will be printed." She smiled. "I take it that won't be a problem for you."

Jessica smiled back at her with slight embarrassment. "Well, you know, not permanent or anything, but I'd like to try it for a while. I mean, I've been so small all my life. It's just exhilarating to be like this. I want to try everything at this size. Everything."

Meg nodded. "I'm glad. Just remember to keep a low profile. We don't want to ruin the surprise, and we'd both have some explaining to do." She hadn't anticipated any of the models NOT wanting to hide out for the next month.

"No problem." Jessica squeezed her enormous breasts, almost basketball sized, yet still firm and upright, apparently responding to her enhanced chest muscles. "Just a couple of people I want to show off to. I wonder how strong I am?"

Meg shook her head. "I'd be surprised if you're not the strongest woman in the world right now. And one of the tallest."

"I feel so confident and energetic," Jessica enthused. "I wish everyone ..." She got a faraway look in her eyes. "What would you say to some group shots? Maybe of the girls in my old high school? Just a few pictures to sort of shake things up? Wouldn't that be cool?"

Meg was taken aback at the suggestion of such a widespread alteration initially, but then smiled in response. "It might at that. We could think up several projects together." She held up the camera. "I'll show you how these work later. You want any more now?"

Jessica felt a slight tearing of the bikini straps.

"Nah. I don't think this suit will take any more." She paused, then suddenly laughed recklessly. "What the hell! How often could I do this?"

She tensed, expanding her chest and thigh muscles, and flexing her arms, producing Herculean bulging of her muscles that made Meg gasp. With a rip and a snap, Jessica's overtaxed bikini top popped off, revealing her mammoth breasts - each topped by a stiff nipple the size of a strawberry - and powerful chest in all their glory. A quick squat ruined the suit bottom, and Jessica tore the already frayed bikini remnant off her waist effortlessly.

"Talk about buns of steel," she laughed, seeing the shredded cloth fall to the sand, then struck an awe inspiring muscle pose. "Whatta you say to a few nude poses to finish things off? I want to remember this in all its glory."

Meg couldn't have agreed more as she started shooting for their private gallery.

.

End part 4

copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Through a Lens Darkly

by Nomdreserv

Part 5

Raquel Angel sipped her coffee as Meg attached a new lens to her camera. She knew she was one of the last models scheduled for the shoot, and wondered idly where all the others were. Her thoughts were jarred by a faint but noticeable tremor in the sand accompanied by a dull, distant thud.

"What was that?" she gasped. "Is there a construction job nearby?"

"No. It's all right," Meg assured her. "Probably just Jessica throwing rocks again. Honestly, she's like a kid with a new toy."

Raquel looked at her in puzzlement, but Meg just winked and held up the camera. "You ever wish you were a kid again?"

Raquel tried to laugh it off. "And give up these?" She hefted her full D cup breasts, cradled in a tightly stretched bikini top. "No way. A girl's got to earn a living."

And quite a living they earned her. Raquel was a full fledged sex symbol. Almost thirty, she sported a full, voluptuous figure that guys sometimes literally drooled over. A beautiful face and long, lustrous hair together with a sly understanding of how to play up her sexy good looks to the camera gave her no end of modeling work (though mostly in commercials, billboards and magazine ads designed to catch men's eyes, as opposed to fashion work where her large hips and breasts were scorned), but also caused her no end of unwanted attention, including "accidental" contact from groping, overeager admirers, and even photographers, not to mention constant hounding by paparazzi desperately hoping to catch a cleavage or upskirt shot. It was enough to make her shun public places, and she was glad this beach was so isolated.

She sighed now as she finished her coffee, unconsciously affected by Meg's comment. She had started modeling at a very early age, driven by an obsessed mother, and had never known a normal life. Always moving, never time to relax, play or make friends, she had never known the sort of carefree childhood Meg alluded to. Of course, as a result, she also now boasted a six figure bank account (It would have been more, but her mother had siphoned off most of her early earnings before their bitter split.) and international celebrity status that made her the envy of millions. She knew she had a wonderful life and job, but still, as she looked around she realized that her beach memories consisted entirely of quick changes in tents or behind sheets, posing, and worrying about hair, clothes and proper lighting while everyone rushed and yelled to finish a shoot. She'd never even built a sand castle.

Oh well, no time to worry about that now. Meg indicated she was ready to shoot, and Raquel began posing seductively, knowing exactly what her fans wanted.

"So, how much do you want me to show? We going all the way today?" she asked, bending forward to display her impressive cleavage in a very brief bikini top. She was wearing a small, tight suit that left little to the imagination. Her breasts were squeezed up and together, making them even more prominent than usual, and the bottom was stretched so tightly, you could see the cleft between her ass cheeks clearly defined, with just a bit showing above the waist.

"As far as you want to go," Meg replied evenly, beginning to click away, and smiling as the first changes began to show up.

Raquel knew the drill and sighed. T and A time. At least this time she got to wear a real bikini. She was beginning to regret her recent nude jobs, despite the hefty paychecks they had brought.

As she continued posing, she relaxed a bit, hitting her rhythm. And the suit wasn't as tight as she'd thought at first. She'd figured Meg had deliberately chosen a bikini at least a size too small to show more skin, but now it felt about right. Her breasts no longer felt so bound and squeezed, and she could move her hips more freely. She smiled seductively into the camera, a fresh-faced twenty year old, unaware that her breasts had probably shrunk a cup size since Meg had started, and that her body had regressed from the mature, voluptuous goddess of mere minutes ago to the slimmer lines of nascent adulthood, and still receding.

Two more clicks. An eighteen year old Raquel felt a little self conscious about coming on to the camera so hard. She straightened up and pulled her slightly loose bikini top snugly against her shrinking breasts to hide them better. Her thighs and ass had slimmed dramatically, though they were still well developed for a high school girl, and the bikini bottom now covered her behind fully. Or at least as fully as such a suit could. Why did they always give her bikinis?

Click. Click. Click.

Fifteen year old Raquel blushed at posing in such a revealing suit, and it didn’t help that the top was much too big, allowing a full view of her pert B cup breasts when she leaned over. She shyly held one hand up to keep the suit in better covering position and hoped no one could notice her nipples becoming stiff from being exposed to the sea air. Her legs became thinner, coltish and slim, while her hips began to narrow slightly, slowly robbing her of those womanly curves the world was so attached to. Her poses became more awkward, and much more reserved, even as she began to feel an unaccustomed nervousness. Gosh, she hoped these pictures would be OK. She didn’t want to do anything ... naughty. Her face had rounded slightly, a small nose and bridge of freckles contributing to an increasing air of innocence.

“Um, do you think maybe I should, like, you know, try another suit or something? Maybe a one piece?” she asked in a higher-pitched voice, feeling gawky and graceless, and sure she was showing too much skin, even though the suit actually covered more of her body (and she had less of interest to show) as she regressed. She couldn’t understand her sudden shyness about a simple bikini. After all, she had just done those ... oh my God! Those nude shots! She turned bright red at the memory.

“Just a few more,” Meg coaxed, clicking rapidly.

Raquel’s breasts dwindled dramatically, becoming lost in her adult-sized bikini top. She started to shrink as she youthened now, especially as she neared early adolescence, but didn’t notice the increasing height discrepancy between them. Her face became increasingly childlike, with soft, innocent features and wide eyes, her skin pink as she continued to blush at her increasingly revealing attire. Her legs and calves lost their curves, becoming girl thin as they shortened, and her hips narrowed, allowing the suddenly loose bikini bottom to begin sliding down. Raquel squeaked as she caught at them.

“OK,” Meg agreed, seeing a 10 year old girl in imminent danger of losing her oversized suit. “Why don’t you try one of those other suits I put aside.” She indicated a second pile of small, brightly colored clothes by the tent.

“Thanks,” Raquel sighed, running in her eagerness to reach the tent. She had to grab at her sliding panties as they dropped again (bringing to mind the Coppertone girl’s revealing dilemma), and her top became disarranged enough to reveal the last remnants of her once proud breasts, little more than swellings around prominent pink nipples. With a gasp of relief, she almost fell into the sanctuary of the tent, grabbing at the extra suits as she did so.

Securing the tent flaps with ties (something she didn’t usually bother with) to insure privacy, she relaxed and let the bikini go. The bottom immediately dropped past boyish hips and legs, revealing bare pubes and a slightly rounded bottom. Far from being alarmed, she turned with satisfaction to examine her reflection in the mirror set up for the models’ use. She looked very good for her age, she decided, and could easily pass as a teenager with the right clothes and makeup. She paused, frowning. Now, why would she be thinking of trying to look like a teenager? Besides, she still had a big - or, rather, a small problem. She shrugged off her loose top and looked unhappily at her nearly flat chest. If only she would develop a little more up there - then the boys would notice her.

Raquel put the thoughts aside and held up the suits to choose. At first, she was incredulous at Meg’s choices - these looked like kids’ suits! What was Meg thinking? How could she possibly wear ...

She calmed down as she slowly realized they were just about the right size. In fact, some were too big! And now that she had a chance to examine them more closely, they were really cute - much more attractive than those stupid bikinis and stuff. She had almost decided on a modest blue one piece with flowers, when another caught her eye. For some reason, her heart gave a jump. It looked a little small, but it was just so darling ...

Several minutes later, Meg heard a hesitant voice call shyly from the tent. “I ... I’m ready. Promise you won’t laugh?”

After extracting the guarantee, she stepped out. What little figure she had left was shown off by the skin-tight fabric of the stretched suit - a white one piece with a bright rainbow arching over a smiling, wide-eyed cartoon unicorn, with silver stars and sprinkles glittering across its surface.

“I know it’s too small,” Raquel admitted in a thin, high voice, no trace of her throaty sexiness remaining. “But it’s just so cute. I love ... I mean loved unicorns, and I never got to wear anything like this, and ...”

“It’s perfect,” Meg decided. “And I bet it will fit just fine after a few more minutes ... you know, after some stretching.”

“Really? Thanks,” the girl beamed. “I was afraid it might not go with your ideas for the shoot.” She suddenly tensed, frightened at the kind of poses Meg might expect her to provide. “So, um, what kind of shots do you wanna get?” She desperately hoped Meg wouldn’t want her to pose ... THAT way again.

“I think ...” Meg paused, reading Raquel correctly. “Some fun shots. How about playing in the water and on the beach. Just relax and have fun.”

Raquel brightened. “Honest? Cool!” She ran forward to hug Meg. “This is, like, the best shoot ever.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Meg smiled. “And I just happen to have some beach toys in that bag over there.”

Raquel jumped in her excitement, then ran over and tore open the bag, as Meg snapped a few more pictures, erasing the last of her fading curves.

“Awesome!” the seven year old proclaimed, holding up a sand pail, shovel, float ring and flippers, and not noticing that her suit now fit perfectly. “And I’m really allowed to play with them?”

“Sure thing. Just stay close, OK?” Meg asked, feeling unexpectedly maternal.

“Sure thing, Ms. Ross.” She giggled. “Oops. I mean, Meg. Thanks.”

She skipped off happily, while Meg took a couple more pictures, wanting to immortalize the carefree joy of the seven ... er, six ... no, five year old who now played so exultantly and unaffectedly in the surf and sand. Meg then unscrewed the regression lens, before she forgot herself and ended up with a new baby.

And then she went down to help Raquel build that sand castle.

end part 5

copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv Next part

[TheoW]

Through A Lens Darkly

By Nomdreserv

Part 6

And now for something completely different, Meg decided.

James Montena was the token male model this year, an attempt by SM to show they were really doing this to highlight swimwear and not just to publish pictures of mostly naked women that would triple sales (wink, wink). They usually included one or possibly two male shots buried near the back. It was a hollow gesture to deflect criticism about sexism and exploitation of women, and Meg decided to have some fun with it.

James stood looking bored, idly noting the little girl playing happily in the sand, but with no signs of the gorgeous models he’d planned to hit on. With his well-toned physique and photogenic good looks, he had no trouble scoring with women in general, but getting another supermodel under his belt (so to speak) was a welcome challenge.

“Where is everybody?” he asked. “I thought Rachel, Jessica, Raquel and all the others were staying here ‘til we went back together.”

“They’re around,” Meg assured him. “But let’s keep your mind centered a little higher for a while, hmm?” She glanced at his crotch. “Doesn’t look like there’s much room down there to spare as is.”

James smiled confidently. He was well hung and loved to show it, deliberately choosing a brief Speedo type suit that outlined his large penis and heavy set of balls. He just wished there were someone around worth impressing.

“Hey, when you’ve got it, flaunt it,” he crowed.

“Funny, I’ve heard that exact same line from my women models. Maybe you have a feminine side to develop.”

“Yeah, right!” he snorted. He then squared his broad shoulders and flexed quite respectable upper arm muscles. “Still think there’s a feminine side here?”

Meg almost laughed, thinking how Jessica’s enhanced physique would dwarf his, but kept a straight face.

“Not yet, but give me a minute,” she muttered under her breath, attaching her lens. “OK, Super-stud, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The first few clicks were again remarkably subtle in their effects. Like many male models, J kept his chest hairless, so there was no change there, but if he had looked carefully, he would have seen his arm and leg hair become finer and sparser, at last disappearing on his thighs and upper arms entirely. The light trail of fur on his lower abdomen evaporated, and his well-defined abs began to blur and soften. His skin became smoother and softer, especially on his face where there was no trace of the faint beard shadow that had been present moments before.

Meg’s breath quickened, as did her photo pace. She watched, fascinated, as each camera click now seemed to reduce that large bulge at the front of his suit another fraction. If James had only known, he would have been horrified to learn that his once proud member was now a four *click* no, make that a three inch embarrassment, and that massive scrotum had shrunk to child size. As though in a last protest, his cock sprang to life, briefly tenting his suit front one more time.

He felt the surge and smiled, thinking to impress Meg and any interested female readers, suspecting some of these shots would end up in Meg’s “private” collection (and he was quite right). He posed proudly, yet felt a very slight discomposure. His erection felt both familiar and strange at the same time, stiff, but not big, if that made any sense. Usually, it was a palpable weight pushing his briefs down, but as hard as it felt to him at the moment, the material barely felt stretched at all, and it sure wasn’t threatening to slap his thigh. He decided it must be an unusual amount of Lycra in the suit restraining him. He brushed at the hair tickling his neck, forgetting how out of place it was given his weekly haircuts.

“OK, give me that muscle pose again,” Meg challenged.

He did, or rather, tried. His arm muscles swelled to less than half their former size, barely producing a visible biceps bulge.

“How’s that?” J asked proudly, but faltered as he heard his voice crack. He cleared his throat and repeated the question, not noticing that he was now speaking in a high tenor rather than his earlier baritone.

“Perfect.” Meg smiled and snapped a few upper body shots to highlight the thinning, girlish arms. His shoulders had narrowed, as had his waist, but now his hips began to widen in their place, spreading the Speedo in an unaccustomed manner. James’ face was still clearly recognizable, but had also begun to change. The overall contours were softer, his nose was smaller, and his lips fuller. It was now framed by near-shoulder length hair. His neck was thinner, and his Adam’s apple had all but disappeared. His chest and shoulders had shrunk, at first giving him a young boyish look, but now, as she fired off a series of additional shots in rapid sequence, she saw his nipples stiffen, then expand, followed by a very slight swelling that raised them provocatively and in a most un-boylike manner.

“Break for film loading,” Meg called.

“Suits me fine,” James replied. The action may have, but clearly his suit didn’t. It was stretched by wide hips and a full, rounded bottom that gave him an unmistakably feminine appearance from behind. His voice was up another half octave, further blurring an appearance that would have left passersby of either sex wondering whether they should give him an appraising glance or not. There was almost no residual of that bulge that had pushed the suit’s front out earlier, though a one inch nubbin was still faintly outlined.

James shook his hair and sat down on a rock, almost immediately jumping back up to look for the towel or cushion he thought he had sat on. He shrugged at seeing nothing, and sat down again, legs crossed at the knee modestly. He had lost interest in hitting on the female models he had longed for earlier. To his own surprise, he instead found his thoughts drifting back to his last job, and sharing the changing room with Mark, a rugged, curly-haired pro who also boasted a wonderful, large …

He stopped, shocked at the direction of his thoughts. He would have been even more shocked had he realized he was lightly stroking his nipples as he daydreamed, but instead he merely forced himself to put the thoughts (and his hands) aside. He’d been too long without sex - that must be the problem. No wonder his nipples felt so stiff and sensitive. They needed …

Before he could focus more clearly about his strange thoughts, Meg signaled she was ready, and he went back to posing.

The last of his well developed upper body muscles faded away, though enough of his calf and thigh muscles remained to enhance the curves of his now smooth legs. There was no trace of a bulge at the front of his suit now, and meg was left to speculate as to what further changes were taking place beneath it. A very slight crease forming at the crotch confirmed her suspicions. His nascent breasts now became undeniable and began to grow dramatically, first as cone-like swellings that jiggled softly as he posed, then round, firmer, upright mounds. James unconsciously began to pose with his hands across his chest, feeling inexplicably shy about his bare-chested brazenness. To his surprise, his nipples felt remarkably large, warm and sensitive, and stiffened beneath his touch. He couldn’t resist rubbing them lightly, and was rewarded with a deep pleasurable tingle. No doubt a reaction to the cool, salt air, he decided.

A minute before, an observer would have puzzled over the sex of Meg’s model: an androgynous, wide-hipped, puffy-chested male, or an almost flat-chested woman with a small (but still unusual) bulge from her male style Speedo. Now, there would no longer be any hesitation. James sported an increasingly curvaceous figure with well rounded hips and full ass stretching his suit, and B cup breasts jiggling on his chest. Oddly, as his breasts continued to enlarge, he became less shy about covering them, as though he was used to showing them off.

He swept his just past shoulder length hair up artfully and pouted at the camera with a half kiss on his full lips. His high cheekbones and small nose were perfect for the camera, and he knew it. His poses and moves had changed subtly, emphasizing the natural curves of his long legs and feminine hips. He laughed as he thrust his perfectly formed, C cup breasts at the camera, proud of his large pink nipples which stood stiff in the sea air.

“Whadda ya think?” James called, shaking his breasts saucily. “Too hot for them, huh?”

“Still feeling cocky, aren’t you?” Meg mused. “Oops. Maybe that’s the wrong term now.”

James shook his head, laughing. “I told you. If you’ve got ‘em, flaunt ‘em.” He looked around a bit wistfully, wishing there was someone worth flaunting them to. “Why don’t you have any other male models around? I want … um … to talk … about … posing and stuff.” He inadvertently began rubbing his breasts again.

Meg smiled, wondering how one of her female subjects would respond to this lens.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she responded cryptically.

END PART 6

Copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Through A Lens Darkly

By Nomdreserv

Part 7

Raquel had been busy collecting shells during Meg’s last shoot, but looked up in time to see her finish the session with an attractive brunette. Raquel noticed the naughty lady wasn’t wearing any shirt, exposing her bare breasts proudly. The small girl looked down at her own flat chest with a slightly puzzled expression. There was something wrong, something about her front compared to the naked lady’s, something … that she would worry about later. Meg seemed to be having an awful lot of fun taking pictures. She wanted to play photographer too.

She saw her chance a few moments later. The last model wandered off, still unconcerned about covering her bobbing breasts, as though she was used to walking around bare chested, and Meg took the opportunity to step into her tent to put her film in a safe, cool place. Raquel’s eyes were immediately drawn to the camera case left outside.

Her decision was immediate. She ran up to stare at the expensive camera and the wide array of lenses and filters winking seductively in the morning sunlight at her after she opened the case. Deciding Meg would notice her primary camera missing, she chose a smaller (digital) backup and one of the lenses lying out already. She struggled a few seconds, trying to figure out how to connect them, but was astonished when the lens seemed to attach itself, almost like magic. She ran back down to the beach so Meg wouldn’t see her.

Seeing the topless model walking away from her in the surf, she started snapping pictures happily, not really bothering to look at her subject. If she had, she would have seen the woman’s breasts begin to shrink, reducing from C cup globes, to B cup mounds, to A cup swellings. As she passed back through her teens, she began to lose height quickly as well, even faster as her hips and legs slimmed, losing the womanly curves of mere seconds ago. Soon, a pubescent girl, with large, pale pink nipples atop barely swollen breasts, boyish hips, and long, skinny legs, played in the waves, still wearing an incongruous and now slightly oversized male Speedo as her only covering.

The other model would have soon reduced to Raquel’s size if Meg hadn’t reappeared, drawing the smaller girl’s attention. Seeing a new subject, Raquel switched direction and began rapid firing towards Meg, while talking happily to herself and spinning stories about how everybody loved her pictures.

Meg shivered slightly, surprised since the beach was warming up. She was even more surprised to find her camera case open, and bent to examine the contents. A quick review confirmed missing equipment, including … uh oh.

She straightened and looked around, her heart jumping as she spotted little Raquel using the camera … on HER!

A quick glance down showed no apparent changes, but then, would she notice them? True, her clothes were a bit dowdy for her gorgeous, young figure, but after all, youth and beauty didn’t … really … matter … her mind wandered as she felt her smooth, flawless legs, no signs of the veins that had been becoming more prominent the last few years. She should try some of these suits on herself, and show these older models a real bikini figure.

Older models?

The thought finally snapped her back to focus. “Raquel, honey,” she called in a clear, high voice. Was that right? Didn’t her voice have a slightly throaty quality? “Stop taking pictures, please, and give me the camera.”

Caught and flustered, Raquel inadvertently hit the automatic button, and the camera began to fire in rapid sequence on its own. Meg heard the shutter begin to click even more rapidly, and froze briefly in place as she felt the resulting shiver in her body.

“Raquel, no!” Her voice was clearly higher, and she looked down to see her breasts begin to shrink before her eyes. NO! It was impossible. The lens was working much faster this time. She was a teenager already. But not for long, she realized, as her breasts all but disappeared, leaving small swellings barely indenting her bra. She had to act while she could. She ran forward in a panic, only to stumble as her sagging shorts dropped past suddenly narrow hips. She fell to the sand, kicking off the obstructing clothing, and promptly lost her now oversized shoes. She felt her bra move loosely against her skin, and couldn’t resist glancing down her suddenly gaping shirt front to where small, pink nipples lay flat against her chest. She looked at unbelievably tiny hands on the sand before her.

“Raquel!” the now eight year old Meg called out while scrambling to her feet. “Point the camera away!”

But Raquel just gaped in astonishment, too surprised to move or redirect the camera as it clicked away Meg’s remaining years. Meg had started out an angry adult, so big and threatening, but had seemed to shrink as she got closer, finally falling into a tangle of loose clothes and shoes. Now that she stood up again, Raquel could tell she wasn’t really an adult at all, but a little girl hardly older than herself, with a little girl’s frightened face framed by jet black hair, and a body almost hidden by an oversize shirt hanging just above her knees. No … past the knees now, and the collar started to slip over her shoulder. As Meg finally reached her, Raquel actually found herself looking down into the angry girl’s face.

“Give me that camewa!” a four year old Meg demanded, trying to grab it.

Raquel snatched it away out of reflex. Not only to keep her toy, but from resentment at a little kid like the one now facing her trying to give her orders. The camera now faced awkwardly up the beach, but unfortunately for Meg, still included her in its frame edge.

“You got tiny,” Raquel commented in awe. “Cool.”

“What?” Meg asked, only now realizing how big the five year old in front of her looked. She saw her own shirt hanging to her ankles, and felt the collar start to slide over her left shoulder. She pulled at it futilely, as though rearranging it properly could reverse her regression, and then grabbed again at the camera. “Give it me … MINE!”

But Raquel was too tall for her already, and held it out of reach.

“Uh uh,” she reprimanded. “You’re just a baby. You’re not allowed to play with it. Now I’m the photogaffer.”

Meg tried to jump for it, but her legs suddenly started to feel weaker and less steady. She held her hands in front of her face, gazing in wonder as she flexed short, pudgy fingers. “Ohh! Me still …still …” The right word failed her, as did all others in another few seconds. She started to sway uncertainly on increasingly shaky legs, as her face retreated to baby roundness, her hair shortening, and her arms disappearing into baggy shirt sleeves. Abruptly, she plopped onto her bottom, looking up confusedly at the big girl and the funny box she held. She was scared of it and began to cry.

At this moment, the camera made a beeping alarm. Raquel looked at the back where a red light winked above the letters “MEM.”

“Uh oh,” she said. “I think it’s bwoke.”

The baby in front of her wailed anew.

END PART 7

Copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Through A Lens Darkly

By Nomdreserv

Part 8

Jessica had been heading back anyway, after thoroughly testing and enjoying her incredible size and strength. As she neared the tents, she heard a baby crying, and ran the rest of the way, surprised to see no sign of Meg. By the water, a small girl tried to comfort the wailing infant she’d heard, and she walked over to them. Raquel looked up as Jessica approached, and her mouth dropped open in shock at the seven foot tall amazon’s appearance. Jessica had managed to squeeze herself back into one of the largest suits, but the skin tight fabric did little to hide her basketball-sized breasts, mountainous shoulders or rock hard abs, and her Herculean arms and legs were on full display.

“Hello,” the giantess smiled disarmingly, seeing the near terror on Raquel’s face. “My name is Jessica. What’s yours?”

“Raquel,” the girl mumbled shyly.

“Raquel?” Jessica repeated in disbelief. “Not Raquel Angel?”

This brought back some of the small girl’s resolve. “Am too,” she nodded defiantly.

“Wow. I see Meg took your picture.”

“Uh huh,” the girl nodded again. “She was real nice and took lots of pictures and gave me toys to play with afterwards.”

“Toys? Did she give you that camera to play with?”

Raquel nodded less certainly this time. “Sorta. I was playing photogaffer, and, um …”

“Where is Meg?” Jessica asked, still looking around. It was then that she saw the trail of discarded clothes which led to the crying baby, who now looked up at her imploringly.

“Meg?” she gasped in recognition.

The baby looked back blankly, but Raquel nodded again.

“What happened?”

“I dunno,” Raquel answered, then began speaking rapidly in her nervousness. “I was taking pictures and then Meg got real small and I got scared but the camewa stopped working and she’s like a real baby ‘cuz she wet herself, see?” She pointed at Meg’s damp shirt and a spot in the sand. “But that’s OK 'cuz babies do that but I don’t ‘cuz I’m a big girl. Not big like you - gosh you’re big. Are you like the Hulk? He gets big when he’s mad but I hope you aren’t mad. Please don’t be mad.”

“It’s all right,” Jessica assured her. “I’m not mad.” She smiled at the irony of Meg being caught at the other end of the lens. “It’s actually kind of funny.” The smile faded. “As long as we can change her back. She’s the only one who really knows these lenses. So, you were taking Meg’s picture with this camera?”

“Uh huh,” the still wide-eyed girl admitted. “I took lots of pictures. Like that lady.” She pointed to a more distant figure, but instead of a “lady,” Jessica saw a young adolescent girl wading in the water.

“Ah,” she sighed. “Well, we’ve pretty well figured out what this lens does anyway.”

“Want me to take your picture, too?” Raquel asked brightly.

“NO!” Jessica snapped, then calmed herself as the girl jumped. “I think I’d better take the camera now.”

“OK,” Raquel pouted. “It’s bwoke anyway.”

Jessica examined the red warning light. “No. All we need to do is clear the memory.” Her finger froze partway to the button. “Wait a minute. What will that do to …” She glanced at the girls at her feet and the other down the beach. “Let’s try this another way. Come on, honey. We’ll try another camera.”

She extricated Meg from her baggy shirt and comically out of place bra, then pulled off the soaking, oversize panties. Meg had quieted, but her arms and legs waved dramatically as Jessica carried her up the beach, with Raquel skipping about her feet.

“Taking pictures is fun,” she sang. “I wanna do it again. Are you gonna take pictures too? Can I help?”

“Sure, sure,” Jessica replied. “I just hope we can figure out how to take the right kind.”

They reached the tent, and Jessica set Meg down to drool on a towel. She found the smallest bikini bottom in the pile (including some child sizes since Meg had known ahead of time she would use the AR lens) and used it to fashion a makeshift diaper. Then she bent to examine the wide array of lenses and filters in the case. Some were ordinary camera lenses, marked with the usual focal length and aperture numbers, but others bore only cryptic symbols and numbers instead.

“Well, I guess they couldn’t very well write ‘breast enlargement’ and ‘age progression’ in big letters on them,” she sighed. “So, we just experiment. I know Meg said she’d used it already today. Hmm.” She grabbed the one nearest the missing lens and attached it to Meg’s camera. “Here goes nothing,” she said, aiming it at the expectant baby gooing at her and firing a few frames.

The baby smiled as extra dimples formed on her face, and she went from baby-plump to downright chubby. A change to be sure, but not what Jessica had hoped.

“Ooh. Fat baby,” Raquel decided.

“OK, wrong guess,” Jessica admitted, watching the creased arms and legs swell. “But, hey, this could be a lot of fun at my next fashion runway show. Try again.”

“This one,” Raquel offered helpfully.

“Why not?” Jessica replied with a conspiratorial grin.

Several exposures later, Meg was sporting much longer and thicker hair instead of her baby-fine down, but was otherwise no older in appearance. The next choice seemed to produce no effects at all on the cooing infant.

“Huh,” Jessica commented after about eight shots. “I guess they don’t all work.”

The next one produced more immediate and satisfying results. The baby seemed to jump with each click as her body grew, face redefining to more recognizable features as her hair filled in, and her arms and legs lengthened and moved less randomly. Soon a toddler lay on the towel, still squirming and with a happy but vacuous look to her eyes.

“Meg?” Raquel asked.

The toddler blew bubbles at her. Raquel simply stared in open-mouthed wonder again.

“I hope her mind catches up soon,” Jessica breathed, while continuing to shoot.

It did, though slowly. By the time Meg reached Raquel’s age again, she stopped drooling and looked around with a puzzled expression. As she hit seven, she sat up, albeit wobbly.

“J …Jessica?” she asked, her eyes starting to focus.

“Hang on, Meg,” Jessica replied in a relieved voice. “Have you back soon.”

Meg was still plump, but the extra fat became better distributed as she grew, especially as she neared adolescence. Soon, she felt a tingling in her nipples as they suddenly swelled and began to push out from her chest. Two more clicks, and she had visible breasts again. She stood up shakily and wrapped a towel around her chest, feeling both teenaged embarrassment about her body and a general chagrin at the whole sequence.

“Raquel took one of my camewas … cameras,” she blushed. “It was set on rapid fire.”

“So I saw.” Jessica continued to shoot, propelling Meg through her early teen years and a sudden growth spurt. The suit bottom tightened as Meg’s hips and ass took on a familiar rounded form. Suddenly, it tightened even more as a totally unfamiliar sensation hit her, and Meg looked down in wide-eyed shock.

Jessica followed her gaze. The front of her bikini sported an unmistakable and completely foreign bulge.

“What the …?” Meg trailed off in an astonished squeak, then looked at the discarded lenses sitting out. “Jessica, did you?”

“Sorry, Meg. Had to experiment a little before we got it right.” She pointed at the growing bulge. “Is that … um?”

Meg reached down gingerly to touch her suit front and jumped in response.

“Um, yeah,” she admitted, blushing harder. She also couldn’t resist reaching down to caress her front again. “Ohhh myyyy. Yes … it … certainly … is … different.”

Raquel began giggling uncontrollably at Meg’s funny actions and the expression on her face, and Meg immediately stopped her unconscious masturbation, now crimson faced.

“You do come with some interesting accessories on your shoots, Meg,” Jessica teased dryly. “I take it this lens is the reason I haven’t seen James around?”

“He’s right over …” Meg squinted, trying hard not to start rubbing the tent in her bikini again. She saw the barely adolescent girl playing in the surf. “Oh. Raquel again, huh?”

Raquel had taken Meg’s myriad transformations with remarkable equanimity, her five year old outlook on life unconcerned by the supposedly immutable laws of science.

“I take pictures,” she announced proudly.

“You sure did,” Meg sighed, suddenly realizing where she was stroking again, and now determinedly folding her hands across her chest. Unfortunately, the sensations elicited there only seemed to reinforce the clamor for attention below, and she dropped them to her side awkwardly. “Well, this complicates matters.”

“You gonna change yourself back?” Jessica asked.

Meg was tempted, but in more ways than one, and finally shook her head. “Too many variables. The only way to undo them all is with the restorative fluid, and that would change everyone back. I still want my ‘special’ issue to come off.” She considered a few moments. “Tell you what, at least make me legal again. I don’t wanna be back in high school for the next month. The rest… I’ll learn to live with.”

Jessica clicked away, and both Meg’s breasts and the bulge in her suit enlarged as she sped through the rest of her teens and into her twenties.

“Going to be an interesting month,” Jessica commented dryly, watching Meg’s too small bikini bottom push down and out.

On that, they could all agree.

END PART 8

Copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Through A Lens Darkly

By Nomdreserv

Epilogue

The scene in Meg’s “debriefing” room after the photo shoot was chaotic. Managers, personal trainers and other hangers on had come to pick up their charges, and instead watched in perplexion as a group of strangers debarked from Meg’s van. Their bemusement turned to shock, however, as they either recognized their transformed clients, or had their identities revealed as the models sought out their companions. Cries of disbelief and outrage filled the room as they tried to convince their erstwhile mealtickets that something was wrong. Despite the clear impossibility of the changes, the managers adapted rapidly, seeming more concerned by their potential loss of income than the physics of the transformation.

“What the hell? You got fat! You’re a pig!”

“You’re OLD! That’s what’s wrong!”

“Damn it, James! You’re a 12 year old GIRL for chrissakes!!”

Soon Meg was surrounded by an angry mob threatening various extreme physical and legal retribution, even as they demanded immediate restoration of their clients. Only Jessica, still a seven foot amazon and standing next to Meg in a protective manner, saved her from bodily harm. Jessica pointedly ignored her own agent. Raquel, too, after initially running joyfully to tell her manager about her adventure, fell back to hug Jessica’s massive calves after he started screaming. The angry man frightened her, and she felt much safer and happier back with her new friends.

“Silence!” Meg finally demanded. “Or everyone stays the way they are permanently.”

This had the desired effect. Meg went on to explain that she would restore each model if two simple conditions were met. First, they had to stay out of the public eye for the next month, until the magazine was released - no one could reveal their transformation. If this meant canceling commitments and photo ops, Meg would make restitution, the nature to be decided by the models themselves. No problem there, the managers decided, looking askance at their almost unrecognizable clients. They would pay good money to avoid this getting out. Second, there were to be no problems or complaints about the magazine itself, or the published pictures. If there were, Meg warned, or if there was trouble afterwards, she implied the changes - or worse - might “recur.” Of course, they couldn’t unless Meg took some more pictures, but no one else could be sure of that, and Meg’s conditions were grudgingly accepted.

“I promised each model here that my pictures would be the most remarkable of their careers, and so they will. I didn’t specify as to how or why. Be glad the effects are temporary, and until they wear off, learn to live life through another perspective. Some of you may find it educational.”

Strangely, the photos she presented to SM showed none of these extraordinary transformations that had so horrified the models’ agents. Editors agreed that the shots were technically excellent, and the models gorgeous as always, and thanked Meg for her work, but privately, many grumbled that she had hardly delivered on her promise to make this the most incredible and talked-about swimsuit issue ever. Still, there was plenty of exposed skin to stimulate sales (among other things), and the issue was duly assembled.

Unknown to the publishers, Meg had developed the pictures with her special “Dorian Grey” solution, the effect of which was that the pictures showed the models as they had appeared at the start of the shoot, and would as long as the models themselves remained transformed. Of course, the reverse was also true. Thus, after the magazine had been printed, assembled, and shipped for delivery, Meg applied the second batch of solution to her negatives. When she checked her own proofs of the pictures afterwards, a large satisfied smile spread over her face. At the same time, a quick pat at her groin reassured her that the magic had worked fully as promised, no doubt to the relief of her many “fashion victims.” As for herself, well, it was nice to be back to “normal,” but all in all, it had been an eye-opening experience, and she wasn’t a bit sorry in retrospect.

The magazine hit the stands and immediately caused a sensation. On the cover was an exotic tiger-woman, and inside, there were all manner of unexpected and disquieting surprises. Pictures of middle aged or elderly models, no doubt pretty for their ages (some even bore a resemblance to Sabrina, the famous teen model, who was supposed to be in the shots), fat women (How did Kate Mock ever agree to let her face be used on THAT body?), muscle-bound amazons next to shy pixies, and … was that really a woman? Should they get excited or disgusted by this topless shot?

Men hoping for lust material were flabbergasted and frustrated, but ashamed to admit it, especially when wives pounced triumphantly to insist they buy it anyway - it was for the articles, right? Feminists crowed and rejoiced that SM had finally seen the light, and applauded the self-mockery which exploded the women as sex objects myth. They also praised the magazine and Meg for showing that “real women” could be just as interesting as models as the usual centerfold crew. Interesting was certainly an apt word, for an intellectual uproar ensued as to the artistic significance of the models used, or Meg’s vision : age vs. innocence, woman as hunter, etc. Artists debated technical and special effects masters as to how Meg had faked her shots (the consensus was computer wizardry, in which they were half right). Many were surprised that such famous models would allow their names or faces to be used for such effects, but this led to another round of applause. All the praise and hype left an initially outraged SM flatfooted, and finally forced them to take grudging responsibility for the publishing coup. The models themselves finally reappeared in public, but remained surprisingly tight-lipped and aloof from the raging debates.

And Meg was right. It was the most talked about issue ever.

Interestingly, several of the models came to visit Meg for “private” photo sessions afterwards. Kate abandoned her anorexic image, happily adding several pounds and an entirely new attitude, crusading relentlessly and publicly against eating disorders. Her career took off again as she championed a healthy diet and realistic body image. Rachel became much more aggressive in her personal and professional life, and people loved the wild, untamed style of hair she adopted. People noticed that Jessica had obviously been inspired by her altered photos to start weight training, and liked the new buff persona she projected. Hardly anyone noticed she now also stood three inches taller. She also became Meg’s assistant, wanting to learn the tricks of the trade as she put it.

And Raquel took an indefinite leave of absence - for personal reasons she explained, refusing to elaborate. And soon thereafter, Raquel’s “niece” began tagging along on Meg’s assignments, which now also included glorious outings to amusement parks, beaches, and camping trips. She seemed a very happy little girl.

Of course, she was also mischievous, and had seen Meg’s special equipment in action. Readers might remember that infamous episode at Disney World where … but wait, that’s another set of stories.

END

Copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv