Misty F Fiction

013 – Lil’ Sister No More!

An Enchanting Tale of The Far Shore

The text presented here is copied directly from my Tumblr with minimal editing. If you have feedback about this story, send me an ask. This story is rated PSFW for Huge Growth, Intimate Nudity and Sexually-Focused Transformation

Silvia could not wait to be out of the car. After a nearly four hour drive with Dad, only twenty minutes separated her and her new college life. Twenty minutes until she was a fledgling adult, responsible for herself and her own decisions.

It had been bad at home since her sister, Carrie, went off to college two years ago. Her parents spent that time wavering between pushing her out of the nest and trying to keep her there.

They had brought stuff up last weekend with her, but since her sister was out of town. Though they had a key to the brownstone, they insisted she returned home instead of moving in early. It had made the past week even more unbearable than normal. She had been counting the hours to when she could return to the life she had tasted many months ago.

When she was first considering where to go to college, she came up to visit her sister to check out the university. Those two weeks had been a whirlwind of indoor and outdoor art, parties, new friends, and new places. Those experiences were ultimately why she had also enrolled. Living with her sister had been a blast and getting to live off campus freshman year would undoubtedly earn her some points. That it saved her parents a significant chunk of change certainly made it hard for them to argue with.

“You’re sure you don’t need me to bring back anything tomorrow?” Dad asked as he finished parallel parking in front of the townhouse her sister rented. “I can bring you anything you need.”

“I’m sure. We brought stuff up last weekend and I’ve spent the week weeding out what I don’t need from what we didn’t bring up. There’s barely anything at home I’m even attached to that hasn’t been packed away for the season and I’ll get that stuff at Thanksgiving.”

“Okay,” he said with a knowing shrug as they got out of the car. “If you’re sure.”

Stretching after being cooped up, Silvia flipped her chest-length and recently dyed, neon green hair over her shoulders. She was surprised it was still straight after the touch-up treatment last night, normally it frizzed up until she had a chance to condition it.

For the sake of not having an argument, she had dressed that morning in jeans and a well-worn t-shirt that was a covert joke about Samus being the best at speed-running for a booty call. She could not wait to change into shorts and her one-piece bathing suit. The past winter had finally seen her starting to get some curve to her average frame and she wanted to hit the campus pool right away to get some sun.

She and her dad each hefted one of the last two duffel bags of her things and started up the steps. The door opened and out stepped a woman with short black hair, dressed in thigh hugging shorts and an off the shoulder peasant tunic over a halter top whose bottom hem left a dent in the bottom curve of her boobs. At first, Silvia thought they might have stopped in front of the wrong townhouse, but as she kept staring, the woman began to look more familiar.

All of a sudden, there was no question that the woman was what could only be described as a sexier version of her sister. Carrie had always been a little busty and curvy, but now, she was unquestionably voluptuous. Her boobs were straining against all edges of her halter and were even pulling the flowing top tight around them. Her hips were easily as wide as her shoulders and her tummy peeking out from under the fluttering fabric of her top was that perfect balance of tight and squishy. Even their dad openly gaped for a few moments before he realized.

“Wow...” Silvia felt the word escape her lips, and hated herself for saying it, but could not stop staring as she actually started to feel a little aroused. She had always envied that her sister had seemed to get the lion’s share, so much so that she had developed a fascination bordering on obsession with growing up. That focus had led her all over the web, as if soaking up images of MILFs and porn stars would somehow cause those dimensions to take root in her slim build. Now, she was so far behind that she would never catch up.

“Yeah, I had a growth spurt since you all saw me last.” She laughed somewhat nervously, putting her hand to her chest. Her elbow was raised almost even with her hand to get around her massive endowments. “It seems like my goal of being a model has taken an interesting turn, but do come in and get settled. I’ll put some tea on.”

“I, uh, actually will just leave this in you girls’ hands,” Their dad seemed nervous. “I have to get back, long drive and all.” With that, he dropped the duffle in the living room, gingerly hugged each of his daughters and then pulled the door closed behind him.

Silvia immediately turned on her sister and playfully punched her in the tit. Her blow sank in almost to the wrist and the dent was only about a sixth of the surface area. “What the fuck, Carrie?! Have you been taking growth hormones or something?”

Carrie waved her off, rubbing the point of impact. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you tonight, but I’ve got to go over to the studio. Want to come see what I’m working on?”

What she was working on turned out to be underwear. The second floor studio near the art building was full of mannequins in all sorts of half complete garments. Some were lacy, some were more for athletics, a few were definitely fetish gear.

Two others were already working, bustling about between sewing machines, work benches, and the wooden models.

One was petite yet willowy woman who moved very quickly with deft fingers. Her blond curls were pulled back in a ponytail that looked more like a pile of gold coins than hair. She wore a simple smock over long shorts and a fitted shirt. A complicated tattoo that looked like a tulip rendered in stained glass ran down one leg. A seven pointed star was emblazoned on the front of her smock and the hems of her pockets were lined with pins, needles, and clips.

The other individual brought to mind an elf of Tolkien's Middle Earth. Tall, athletic, and androgynous, Silvia was almost surprised to not see pointed ears. She also could not figure out their gender, though she desperately hoped they were a lady. The mysterious worker’s head was shaved aside from a brilliant blue braid that sprouted from their crown and draped against their shoulder blades. A long white tank top clung to their torso and vanished into the waistband of a broom skirt with purple and white swirls which draped to mid calf. A pair of high-top boots clad the elf’s feet.

Much to Silvia’s surprise, Carrie walked towards the elf with purpose, pulling them down into a very passionate kiss. Her cheeks began to feel hot as feelings of both envy and arousal surged again. Not only had Carrie become this sexual goddess, but she also had an insanely hot partner. Never before had Silvia wished more strongly to be her sister than that exact moment.

“Carrie,” the petite woman did not look up from her stitching. “Please don’t distract Tatia any more than you already do.”

“Yes, yes,” her sister said as she broke off the kiss. She turned to her sister. “Silvia, this is Tatia Omolov, she’s at least my girlfriend, probably more than that. Tatia, this is my little sister Silvia, she’s moving up to come to school here.”

The tall woman bowed her head and grinned. “It is good to finally meet you, Silvia. I can’t wait to watch you do runs in person.”

“You watch my speed-run stream?”

“Of course! A friend back home in Portland got me hooked and when I heard you were moving up, I started watching to see how good you were. This is kind of awkward, actually, I feel like I know so much about you from watching you stream. We will have to hang out so I can fix the gap in our one-sided relationship.”

Silvia's heart fluttered at the thought of getting to hang out with the hunky, but beautiful elfin woman.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Carrie said with a laugh that made her shirt rustle with jiggling. “She’s who is moving in with us.”

“Wait, us?” Silvia’s eyes narrowed as she tilted her head.

Carrie quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, I told you I had a roommate.”

“Yes, a roommate, not a bedmate.”

It was Tatia’s turn to laugh. “I like your sister, love. She is feistier than even you.”

“Ahem, ladies,” the petite woman said as she sat back to check her handiwork. “We’ve got a deadline and you are not helping just standing there gabbing.”

“Who’s she?”

“Sophie van Tunte, head designer of FAE Couture. She’s guest lecturing this semester and we’re fortunate enough to be working with her on her new line.”

“Which, as I said, has a deadline, young lady. Now hop to and get that lacing done!”

Not wanting to be a distraction, Silvia sat out of the way, splitting her attention between watching the three women work and studying the newest world record for Fusion. She tried to not stare at Tatia too much, as she bent and lifted and reached but it was hard to keep her gaze from drifting in her direction.

It did not help that each time Silvia looked down, she could swear she saw a fluttering movement out of the corner of her eye, like a hummingbird flitting between flowers, but it was gone when she glanced up again. It had been nearly an hour by game clock when she heard her name.

“You there, Carrie’s sister.” Looking up, Sophie beckoned with her hands. “Could you come here for a second?”

She put her phone away and crossed the room to the mannequin the fashion designer was working on. The garment on the model looked like a bra with a cape, both were made of black vinyl stitched together with thick, bright pink thread. A matching pair of very small shorts, with thick steel rings roughly across from each other in the hem, hung from the wooden figure;s vaguely humanoid hips.

“You look like these are your size, could you try them on for me?”

Silvia’s face again went red almost at once. “Me, wear that?”

“Yeah, the draping is off and I want to see it on a real person to figure out what the issue is. Obviously those two wouldn’t be able to wear this, and me putting it on doesn’t help, so it falls to you.”

“I guess so.”

They peeled the clothing off the mannequin and Silvia went to another room to change. The bra clasped in the front and actually felt pretty good as it pushed her small boobs up and together. The cape hung past her hips, so she felt less embarrassed when she realized just how little material the bottoms actually had. As she pulled the shorts up, she could swear they felt tight as the thin fabric slipped between her legs to hug her pelvis. The rings rested just behind her hips, pressing softly against the gentle curve of her butt, much of which squeezed past the bottom hem. She felt awkward, but looking at herself in the mirror, she also felt really sexy. She never got to dress like this.

“Okay, let me see how that looks.”

Stepping back out into the studio felt like standing on the edge of the high dive, but Silvia grit her teeth and emerged from the changing room. It turned out her sister and her lover were wrapped up in whatever they were doing and did not notice.

Sophie got to work at once, circling her and taking all kinds measurements. She chattered the whole time, shattering Silvia’s notion she was just a grumpy artiste. Whenever she moved out of view, Silvia could swear she saw the iridescent shimmer again, but could never catch more than a glimpse. Perhaps it was glinting off some jewelry.

“Ah, perfect! Thanks for helping with that.”

Laughter erupted from the other end of the room pulling their attention. A strip of fabric was floating towards the ground and another was wrapped around Tatia’s other bicep. It appeared that she was tearing them by flexing as she did just that before slipping on even tighter bands.

“Those two are so cute, though don’t tell them I said that. They’re a bit of a distraction, but they’ve been an immense help and I would not be nearly as far along without them. Speaking of being a help, would you care to try on anything else?”

The afternoon became a blur of both athletic and sexy after that as Silvia tried on all kinds of garments that she would never have dreamed of even thinking about wearing. Sophie smiled the whole time, taking lots of notes and measurements.

It started to get dark sooner than it had any right to, but eventually she had to put on her regular clothes. Only, they were really tight. She overflowed her bra and her butt was attempting to swallow her panties. She stepped back out to see if maybe these were rejected test pieces and she had put her underwear someplace else, but did not see anything that looked the right size.

The others were across the room, whispering conspiratorially. Sophie pulled her hands away from her chest, as if she were supporting growing boobs. Carrie nodded and Tatia giggled. The fashion designer caressed Carrie’s boobs, dragging a finger along the teardrop curve of each to then scoop and cup them. She gave them some experimental squeezes through the two tops and then nodded before stepping over to Tatia.

Lifting the tall woman’s shirt revealed the elfin woman was even more ripped than she appeared. The chiseled core of a swimmer or a cyclist hid under her clothes, her build almost masculine as the edges of her stomach muscles trailed off tantalizingly into her skirt.

Silvia, her sexual exploration mostly Internet-based, wondered if Tatia was trans or if her liminality made her something else entirely. What was that term? Genderfluid? Not that it mattered, the young woman had to admit she found herself crushing on her on her sister’s elfin lover all the same.

Tatia’s shirt came back down as the conversation broke up. Silvia panicked, slipping back into the side room and throwing the rest of her clothing back on without a second thought about her ill fitting underwear. By time she put her shoes back on, everything weirdly felt like it fit.

It was suggested the four of them go out to dinner and Silvia both dreaded and anticipated at least an hour of close conversation. They grabbed a table at the pizza place across the street and spent no less than ten minutes working out the politics of toppings on a shared pizza. Once they ordered, Sophie leaned in.

“Silvia, this goes no farther than this table.”

What was this all about? “Sure. What’s up?”

“I am a faerie and I make magical clothing.”

The young woman blinked twice, the sheer absurdity of that statement rendering it intractable. “What was that?”

“I’m a faerie,” Sophie said it slowly. “From the world beyond the veil? I make clothes. I enchant them to make them fit people. Or, really, make people fit them.”

“If this is some prank,” she started but Carrie cut her off.

“No prank, you wanted to know how I got this way? A magical mishap. I doubled my cup size nearly at once and kept growing everywhere overnight until I couldn’t fit into anything.”

“Da, my athletic gear had the same effect. Though, I’m not really complaining.”

“So wait...my clothes really were too small earlier?”

“Indeed,” Sophie said with a smile. “That’s why I was having you try things on, to make sure I had gotten the spell right this time.”

“You mean if things hadn’t gone well I’d have also been changed?” Silvia shivered as the image of her being the size of a building popped into her mind for some reason.

“I knew that things were under control from the first garment, which was designed to lower inhibitions in addition to giving you a small bump to your measurements.”

“What would have happened if they weren’t?”

“Oh, you would’ve ended up even more well endowed that your sister here. You also would have likely developed a sex drive that not even five partners could sate.”

Silvia made a face she hoped was shocked as the conflict of excitement and anger played out in her mind. She was surprised that she was even conflicted. Who honestly would want to be effectively a succubus? Even then, the same irrational part of her brain that obsessed about Carrie’s physique entertained the idea of being insatiable, of being a sex goddess who fucked however she damn well pleased.

“I don’t mind helping,” she said, just to break her train of thought. “Just tell me next time, okay?”

A huge pizza arrived shortly after and the rest of the time was spent getting to know each other a bit more. Sophie revealed she was serving an indefinite sentence of exile for a prank which got out of control.

“Yeah, it was a lipstick I enchanted to cause very slight lip growth and it ended up with Titania’s lips swelling until they touched the floor. Needless to say I was banished until I could prove I had control of my spells.”

After that, Silvia had a moment alone with Tatia which left her blushing as she whispered faltering questions. The tall woman smiled as she helped the curious young lady find the right words.

“Da, genderfluid is a good term for me. I do sometimes present as male, usually when it would be easier than answering questions. It is easy since dress in men's clothes, especially since what happened two weeks ago. Hardly anything that is not big and tall fits.”

“So how do I know what to call you?”

“You mean with pronouns? Just always use she, is easier. It feels weird to use he or him when I do not have a dick. I know that can seem insensitive, but I do not I identify as male nor do I plan to be male. So, to me, using he feels disrespectful to the trans men out there who do feel those things.”

She laughed after that and Silvia felt a little better even as her crush got stronger.

The cadre retired to Carrie’s brownstone after that and Silvia excused herself to unpack, but she did not mean her things. She lay there, staring at the ceiling as she tried to grapple with all her new feelings. Being attracted to Tatia made sense. She was amazingly hot and seemed quite smart. That she was interested in similar things only added to that perception.

The arousal Silvia felt around her sister was troubling, but understandable. She had grown up fixated on the day when they could be equals and that had not just manifested as envy. It was very likely that her developing such feelings contributed heavily to why she loved the fairer sex. Her sister had always been this ideal to chase as much as a person to love and now that her physique was into a territory that normally had a MILF tag attached was oddly thrilling. It was like finding a new exploit to cut five minutes off a route.

That she would be living with them was like the start of some raunchy romantic comedy where the guy ends up lucking into a sexual relationship with both his girlfriend and her best friend after a long second act where they both hate him.

She hoped neither would hate her.

And then there was Sophie and her magic clothing. It was such an odd thing Silvia got up to search for FAE Couture. Much of the results were reviews, blouses that guaranteed to never gap, stockings that would never run, and so forth. The only actionable news was about a recall of an athletic clothing line due to the outer shell melting in the dyer and that was proven to be people not reading the care instructions. Closing her laptop, Silvia went to bed for the night. Her dreams were filled with hunky, beautiful elf ladies.

Next morning dawned and was uneventful until breakfast. In the fridge were three small glass bottles of milk, like from the farmer’s market. She cracked one open and poured some over the cereal she had brought up the previous week and dug in as she resumed her speed-run studies. There would not be much time for such things once the semester started.

The milk was astonishingly sweet and she found herself scarfing the bowl of corn flakes like she had not eaten in days. It was not long before she was tilting the bowl back to capture every last drop. Dropping the spoon with a clatter, she felt satisfied in a way she had never felt before, as if that bowl of cereal had touched her very being.

As the glow faded, she noticed her shirt felt a little tighter. Shaking her chest, there was a little more jiggle than before. She told herself there was no way this was actually happening, then she remembered she met an actual fucking faerie yesterday. Magic was just as real as anything else and she had perhaps just lucked into her own fantasy.

In that moment, the fridge door could not open fast enough, nor could the cap unscrew quick enough. The cold glass pressed against her lips as she threw her head back and chugged. With each gulp her whole body pulsed as if the creamy fluid was being pumped into her cells. Her sweatpants and nightshirt had begun to feel pleasantly tight when she finished the first bottle and slammed it down on the counter wiping a trickle that had escaped with the back of her hand.

Confirming the changes were real and not just some euphoric feeling was the first thing on her mind. She grabbed her boobs through the soft fabric of her nightshirt and moaned at how sensitive they felt. They had barely jiggled at all before and now they verged on handfuls of soft flesh. Her nipples grew hard against her palms as she absently squished her boobs into each other while relishing their newfound heft.

“This is nothing though, I’m barely caught up.”

The second bottle took longer to drink as she was starting to feel a little sick towards the end, but it pumped her larger with each gulp all the same before joining the first on the counter. Her bustline was now felt even with the Carrie she had spent years idolizing. Flesh overflowed her hands as she reached up to cup her new tits. Her nipples now capped puffy areolae that made quarter sized domes in her shirt. Her cleavage had pushed her neckline down, the hem barely holding back her still expanding endowments.

Her hands roamed down, discovering that, unlike her sister, her explosive growth had been much more focused. She was a little wider in the waist, sure, but for the most part the rest of her body had changed to become toned and taught. Even her hips, which were starting to hurt from pushing her pants’ waistband to its limits, felt more like soft muscle than fat.

Hefting her boobs once more, she pondered what drinking the third would do. Would she finally surpass Carrie?

The chill glass bottle was in her hand before she even finished the thought. After a few gulps, her clothes were really starting to strain. The hem of her shirt rose, dragging upwards against sensitive expanding skin. She could feel bubbles of herself pushing through seams that were barely holding on. With each gulp, more of her existed and more of her was exposed.

She was halfway to the bottom when both Carrie and Tatia entered the kitchen. The three women stood frozen in tableau. Silvia in front of the open fridge, her body literally bulging out of her clothes now as the small tears in the seams began joining to make gaping holes. Milk continued to flow down her throat.

Carrie and Tatia were each half naked. Tatia was topless and in a pair of boxers, showing off her athletic upper body and revealing that she was reasonably endowed for someone who could pass as either gender. Carrie was only wearing a long shirt that probably would have come to mid thigh were it not for her overflowing armful of massive tit flesh occupying most of the fabric. As it was, the bottoms of her boobs were just visible beyond the hem.

“What on earth? Silvia, stop!”

But it was too late, she polished off the bottle in another couple gulps. Her eyes were closed as she licked her lips, relishing the feelings of both her shirt and pants giving way as the tide of flesh pushed their seams to the breaking point. The neckline of her shirt ripped apart, even as the side seams split from armpit to hip. Her waistband snapped and her tattered pants fell around her ankles. That she was half-naked only made her feel a little self conscious. She was her own kind of sexy now, why should she not share in the moment?

“Silvia! How many of those did you drink?”

“This makes three,” she said as she slammed it on the counter with the other two before letting out a belch.

“Holy shit! Three bottles?” Carrie smacked her forehead.

Tatia put a hand on her shoulder. “She would seem to have proven your milk is still enchanted, kitten.”

“Your milk?”

“Yeah,” Carried looked away. “I lactate, have since freshman year. It was never a large flow before two weeks ago, just a few drops here and there. It started with my first boyfriend in college, all he wanted to do was suck on my tits. It felt so good and made them so sensitive that I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop. It had been a couple months when he first got a taste in his mouth and freaked out that I was pregnant. Idiot. I was still a virgin then.”

Silvia’s eyebrows were twitching as she looked between her sister and the bottles that she had drained. “Are you telling me I just drank at least twenty-four ounces of something that came out of your tits?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“And let me guess, the enchantment is...”

“The one that went haywire, yes. Though it seems to have finally given you everything you’ve ever wanted.” Her tone was mocking, but mirthful. “Congrats sister dear, you’ve surpassed me. How does it feel to be the biggest?”

Carrie walked forward, arms open to embrace her sister. Their tits met first, in a cascade of quivering flesh, but she managed to clasp her arms behind the other woman’s back. Stunned for many reasons, Silvia put up no resistance and melted into the hug. Tatia joined them, her long arms resting on each of their shoulders as she held them close.

“Okay,” Silvia said after a moment, I want to know everything about how it happened…" [story_footer]

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