Chapter #4A prickly customer by: Tonberry   Farrell tried to console the flower girl, who was sweating profusely in the heat and throes of pain; she groaned in discomfort, still clutching her arm. He could feel her heart thumping as her tried to coax her onwards. He noticed, innocently, the strained look of the girl's blouse about her chest - which heaved with each frantic breath she took. He averted his gaze sheepishly - girl's these days just wore tighter and tighter clothing, putting themselves all on show...nothing left to the imagination. He told her he'd return in just a moment; she squeaked a response of some sort or another from between gritted teeth.
He dashed to the nearby phone-box, panting - he shouldn't...at his age...in this heat….be running. Out of breath, he telephoned the hospital and urged them to send an ambulance after explaining the situation – they’d be some while because the heat got to a lot of people. He glanced back at the girl who had leaned herself against a lamp post for support. It looked like she'd unbuttoned her blouse more. Hoping she'd be alright for a trifle longer he hurried into a nearby cafe; pushing in front of the queue - to a chorus of annoyed shouts - and garbled the situation...water! - Cold! -Quickly! The woman behind the counter gave over the large bottles gingerly.
On returning to the flower girl, Farrell wet his handkerchief with water and placed it across the girl's head - slicking her sweat sopped fringe to on side. He felt something under his foot. He lifted his foot. A button - a little distance from his foot another was spinning delicately. He turned his attention back to the girl; her perspiration had stuck her clothes to her body like a second skin. Her purple bra's outline came through the powder blue of the blouse. Farrell averted his eyes again and looked apprehensively down the road - a rather large bosom bobbed and rose not far from his eyeline - something he must confess she'd hidden well. The girl moaned again. He unscrewed the water bottle and offered it to her lips. Her eyes closed; she drank greedily, pausing only to pant. Water dribbled from her chin, splashing on her, slicked bosom - glossy as it was with sweat. With each gulp and breath she took it rose and fell: Swelling and falling and swelling and falling and swelling and swelling...As she drank and drank, Farrell notice how ill she looked - there was flush of greenish colour in her cheeks and beginning to rise in her gorge. He noted the way the bandage was digging into her arm flesh, clearly inflammation caused by the infected sore.
She finished the last of the bottle with relish and gasped for air. Surprised, Farrell tossed the empty bottle aside and handed her the other, for she was apparently quite parched. "Go easy on this one" he mumbled to her; distracted, he looked for that damn ambulance again. A loud Shrrrip drew his attention back to the girl. He look at her puzzled, she was still licking moisture from her lips - a pained sort of expression across her drenched brow - and began to gulp again with sensual glugs. A little exploration yielded an explanation, but only raised more questions. When she shifted her weight against the lamp-post, he saw a large tear in the seat of her jeans exposing the vivid, damp, purple of her underwear. He flushed hotly - Told you so...too tight, too..eh? Farrell's inner pontification was halted slightly by the appearance that the hole was widening...almost as if stretched by something...her rear end? He looked up again. A projectile button bounced off his glasses. He raised an eyebrow of surprise. Her bosom had apparently freed itself of the upper part of her blouse. It suddenly dawned on Farrell that this bosom was now above his eyeline, so that he had to incline his neck to look at it...not that he was.
She drained the last of the second bottle and let if fall to earth; soon she was sweating in buckets again. Farrell tried to shake her tentatively...she must be a good foot or more bigger than he remembered. He place a hand on her waist and was alarmed to feel the flesh beneath his hand shift and grow. He stepped back. The girl looked down at him - communicating, with those big blue eyes flecked with yellowish pigment, surprise to see him look up at her. Again she winced with pain, wracked perceptibly.
Farrell stood in shock and disbelief. The flower girl grew more perceptibly now. She leaned and arched her elongating torso against the lamp post, which creaked. Her hips and rear widened the hole - exposing more flesh and undergarment to the sweltering air. Sweat cascaded from her landing the odd droplet on the pavement, running down her neck and between her breast, escaping down her navel in streams.. Her calves thickened, ripping more of her jeans. The green colour was high in parts of her body now. Her thighs began to erupt from the jeans in patches, as if devoured by invisible moths. A button popped from her jeans, revealing her plushy stomach. Her damp and musky hair shimmered and curled, glossy and thick, in the hard sunlight like red gold.
Farrell looked around, the girl was beginning to grab the attention of the odd person here and there – she was pretty big now. her brow furrowed in pain as she stretched taller. Her bandages fell away from her arm, exposing what look like for all the world like a ...spine? The green was deepening across her. Her fingers looked both long and slender as they stretched across her arm where they clutched. A creak of twisting metal alarmed Farrell. The lamp post bent under the girl's weight and size as she pushed against it.
-Hnnnng!
Farrell looked up at the flower girl. Her swelling bust line was straining against her purple bra, causing much discomfort. She was beginning to tower over everyone as much as the lamp post. Her head hit and bent the top of the post, by sheer force of her size. Several more spine began to burst from her arms and legs, accompanied by sharp yelps and cries from the girl - they were long and white, like ivory, and grew more pronounced with the girl herself. The green hue had spread across her now, save for a few odd spots. The girl was much distracted by her constant increase in size. He, nor anyone, had never seen anything or anyone like it! Farrell reached out and touched her ankle and found a light coating of little bristles of spines, fine like the little hairs that cover all human beings and a little sore to the touch. A ...cactus?The girl, apparently sensing his touch, inclined herself to look down. Her blue eyes were ringed by a floral or petal-like curls of vibrant red.
Her showers of red locks framed her face; the bun on her head had swollen, with strands of long soft curls radiating from it, her sweating had loosened it. Mrs O'Neil outside the cafe was put curiously in mind of a flower bud or blossom perched on top of the girl's huge lovely head. What a pretty lass...pity she's fecking huge!
Farrell was struck by how gorgeous the girl smelled - a curiously blend of the heady, primal musk of her body and the floral, sweet and watery lushness that seemed to ooze from her in waves - she smelled erotic and faintly delicious. He shook himself and focused on her face. She was biting her lip, great tears were forming in her eyes. Her long fingers brushed them away - she looked in surprised at her hand; the fingers were long and white, to Farrell they put him in mind of claws. The sun beat down on her giant red head. She, caught unawares, reeled and stumbled on her tree trunk legs. Gasping, she grew again. Farrell heard groans and moans rumble deep in the girl's elegant throat. With a
-hhhnnah
the girl swelled larger. Something to do with plants, water and sunlight was niggling at the back of his head, but because of the situation his brain was otherwise involved. She was truly towering now, he estimated 30ft or more. The girl stretched and groaned
- nnnnguhgh,
her tortured bra flew into a nearby window. Her heaving endowments bounced forth - huge, succulent and ripe, like colossal watermelons - her flowery nipples hardening in the breeze she now caught at her size. Retain water. An uhhngguh signaled that the girl had outgrown those, rather sprightly, purple panties; only a gorse of red hair masked anything of her nether regions. Farrell look awkwardly away, he could hear the ambulance in the distance. We're going to need a bigger ambulance.It dawned on him that he could be in genuine danger; the girl probably wouldn't hurt a fly, but she was clumsy and rather unused to being her size. Doesn't know her own strength. He waddled to the clumps of people that were beginning to form on the street.
Farrell joined a cluster of women and men in the road. The flower girl was huge now. She'd rumbled to a fearful height, casting a well curved shadow on the street...looks like she's still growing. After the last surge, the growing did appear to be slowing down, her body now only rumbled gentle...she swelled slowly, like a great green parade balloon...ever so slowly expanding, undulating and swelling...If not for the fact she towered over the street you probably wouldn't notice her doing it. Too "little" too late.
An old woman, hard of sight; hearing and probably not all together "there" leaned across and spoke to him. "Is she your daughter?"
Farrell turned in surprised "Ugh, what?"
The old woman smiled "You must be so proud" she laid a gnarled hand on his shoulder "The grow up so fast"
Farrell, a little confused, turn back to the figure of flower girl who was gazing around her in disbelief at the change in perspective, swaying slightly from vertigo. She grew slowly in the cool drifting breeze.
He bit his lip. "40" going on "50" - he thought dryly.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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