Erin Hollows-Summer, 27

I woke up the the sound of the alarm. I didn't want to get out of bed, but I had to. The past few days have been a nightmare, and there was no sign today would be different.

I got out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror. I was more of a mess than usual. My mother is a Japanese-American woman and looking at her you would find it difficult to place the connection other than my face. She was a 1.87 meter (6'1'') tall centerfold (though age had not been that kind to her, she was now a local weatherwoman), in her heyday she found a nice, short, stocky Irishman and fell in love with his honesty and heart. I was short at 1.43 meters (4'8''), plump and had frazzled auburn hair like my dad. My breasts were a barely b-cup, though I made myself feel better by repeating my mantra of "at least I am not the petite Asian stereotype...".

Well, it didn't help me feel better now. Not with my wife in the hospital.

I ran downstairs to the taxi I ordered through an app, the Ikea I worked in was out of town.

"What are your lucky number?" The taxi driver suddenly asked me as I entered.

"Ex... excuse me?" He was giddy fellow with olive skin and a thick mustache.

"Oh, I am sorry. Salim." He waved to me. "I just like to ask my first patron of the day for the lottery numbers, if I win anything I split it 50/50."

"Oh... can you drive me to the Ikea store right out of town?" I asked sheepishly as I realized that of course he would have the passengers' numbers if they ordered him through the app. So much for privacy.

"Right. You don't have to, you know. I just try every day in hopes I finally get enough to put the girl through college..." I was not prepared for his bluntness. "I like the job, but she has big dreams..."

I thought about it for a second.

"28," Lili's age. "13," how many months we have been married. "32," how old my mom was when she married. "45," my favorite aisle number in the Ikea warehouse. "21," my best friend's age. "And 8," for Lili's sexy 8-pack abs. "If you don't win a lot, you don't have to split it."

"No, it's my policy and i will abide by it." He laughed and started speaking in length about his daughter and her aspirations.

If I could listen I would have probably laughed alongside with him, but I was too preoccupied with Lili's condition and how I was supposed to pay her hospital bill.

In a different world Lilibeth Summer would have been your perfectly cliched southern belle, miss-state-something supermodel. But when her parents found out her sexuality she ran away from home with the help of her brother and ended up hitchhiking her way to Salt Lake City. She got into working out and goth culture and a few years later she met me on my 10th or so attempt at going for the gym for more than 3 days. A week later we started dating, a few months after I had my big-titty-goth-wife... or rather Instagram-fitness-model-with-nice-C cups-goth-wife. She loved me for my energy and was sympathetic to me not liking the gym, and I loved her for her tenderness and sincerity. Also, didn't hurt she was 1.78 meters (5'10'') tall with an ultra-fit pale body, short white hair and many awesome tattoos.

Though having a large following on Instagram of a few dozen thousand didn't help much when she refused to promote any product she didn't believe in... meaning any product. Nor did getting into an "accident" 3 days ago. I say "accident" because a pickup truck running full speed into a parked Fiat inside a parking lot is not something someone does on accident. Especially not when the arresting officer and the driver he let off with a warning both belonged to the same neo-Nazi group on Facebook.

We Reached Ikea and I bid Salim farewell.

"Fucking Calloway, man." Rosalyn swore as we saw the worst employee in the store walk towards the break room.

Rosalyn was my best friend. She was a very large Latina woman (1.96 meters [6'5''] tall), though most of it was unflattering fat. She swore she would work out more if I worked out with her, though I always wonder if that is just an excuse.

"I swear I filed like 20 sexual harassment reports on him," Rosalyn spoke as she sipped some coffee.

"We ae more likely to be sacked if we continue filing those reports than he is," I spoke solemnly as he entered the room.

"How's the wife, lesbo?" there was 0 hint he meant any goodwill.

"More muscular than you, probably fucked more woman and still married to this Asian lady; she probably symbolizes everything your pasty white-ass hates, or fetishizes, or both." I saw the hate in his eyes, and he could see that there was nothing his teasing would do today. He decided to walk away to try and bro it out with one of the unpaid teenage interns he was too old to hang out with.

"But really, how is she doing?" Rosalyn put her hand on my leg.

"She will survive, all that muscle probably saved her, but there is some expensive surgery that still needs to be done and I am not sure... I am really... just..." I noticed I had a hard time stopping my sobbing.

"We'll figure something out, I am sure of it..." Rosalyn pulled me in for a hug.

The rest of they day I put on my corporate-mandated happy face while talking to customers and I got back to my bed mentally and physically exhausted.

My dreams were bizarre flashes of fantastical lives that were alien to me.

A model here, a queen there, a CEO in the middle. Whatever these dreams were about I had a hard time making sense of them. From tie to time i noticed my figure in them and how stupendously sexy it was.

At times I was a towering giantess with a curvy figure, in others I was an ultra-muscular amazon. With every flash my body grew bigger and sexier.

In the final flash I was in a large log cabin, I had to be at least 5 meters (16'4'') tall, titanic firm tits, astounding ass, powerful legs and a hyper-athletic body. I turned around to see a Lili that was slightly shorter than me but so muscular she could probably lift a mountain and a Rosalyn that was even taller than me and curvaceous beyond reason. Without any pause we starting making out and having wild sex on the soft grass.

"Yeeeeesssssss" I moaned as I felt an endless amount of energy pool up inside me.

With every orgasm we grew bigger

"Fuuuuck yes"

and sexier

"Oh my god!"

and more powerful.

The cabin was a speck now, and we continued.

More

and more

and MORE

"Holy Bejesus Christ!" I shouted as I had the most intense dream I have in, probably, my entire life. What did I even dream about? I had already forgotten.

Shit! The alarm. I was already 20 minutes late when I got to the cab, barely had time to clean myself before leaving the apartment.

"Lady, here!" Salim suddenly spoke waving a check. "We won! not much, but this is yours."

"This is amazing Salim..." I looked at the check to see it said $75,000. I was so shocked and happy it only took a bigger shock to snap me out of it.

My body was different.

Any fat I had, had melted away other than key sexy places, like my now sizeable c cups. My hair was neater and my skin healthier. I am also pretty sure I was 10 cm (4'') taller; no, I knew it. Two, only slightly, different sets of memories merged in my mind.

How did Salim not notice? Who was doing this me? Also, goddammit, now I was the petite Asian stereotype.

What the fuck is happening to me?