When Paul woke up the next morning, he felt decidedly groggy. He dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom for a shower. Somehow he still felt tired, and when he reached up to adjust the showerhead downward, he was surprised to find it an inch or two higher than he remembered. “S’weird,” he thought.

He felt tired and slow on the way to breakfast, and his thick statistics book was dragging him down on one side. He didn’t remember it feeling so heavy before, and he briefly wondered at how the girls in the class were able to handle it. He figured he might be coming down with the flu, and sure enough two people asked if he was feeling OK as he made his way downstairs to the cafeteria.

When he got to the cafeteria, Claire was already waiting for him. In fact, she’d already been there for 15 minutes, having gotten up very early in the morning and enjoyed an unusually productive workout.

Claire had surprised herself when she bounded out of bed at 5:30 that morning. She’d always been an early riser but today felt even more eager to meet the day. She’d been surprised again at a noticeable – even dramatic – increase in her muscularity this morning. Her already-sinewy upper arms seemed to have swelled noticeably in bulk and, as her workout attested, her strength had also increased dramatically. Her struggle with the 115 pound bar was a thing of the past, because this morning she was able to crank out ten reps easily, and then added a ten pound disk to each side and cranked out another ten of those. Clearly, she thought, her hard work with the weights was finally starting to pay off. She was also pleased to find a little bit of growth in her formerly nearly-flat chest, but she had not yet noticed the two inch increase in height, her improved looks or accelerated brain power. And while Claire also didn’t notice Amanda and Julie watching the spectacle from the other side of the cafeteria, she did notice that Paul looked like shit.

“Are you OK? You look sick.”

“Got a bug or something. Feel kinda bad.”

She asked about various symptoms – stuffy nose, headache, etc – but Paul answered in the negative to each. He just didn’t “feel like himself,” he explained. And while he’d never been the most communicative guy, today he was even more taciturn. She also noticed that his posture, which was normally excellent, was a little off today. He didn’t seem nearly so imposing as usual.

Claire was eager to get to class, and crossed over to Paul’s side of the table. He stood up, a bit wobbly, to kiss her. That’s when Claire had the first inkling that she might have gotten taller, too, impossible though it may be. Because today she barely had to rise up on her toes to meet Paul’s mouth, while normally the height difference between the 5’3” lacrosse player and her 6’ boyfriend was downright inconvenient. What Claire didn’t know was that she had grown to 5’5” overnight, while Paul had shrunk to 5’10” – a nine inch difference reduced to a more comfortable five. She found the situation to be agreeable.

Claire had a little quirk of clasping her hands behind mens’ necks and going limp, like a child. Normally her weight was easily manageable for Paul, but this morning she seemed to weigh a ton! He staggered forward before finally getting his feet planted. Even steadied, he found the load to be almost more than he could bear.

“Hey,” he gasped, “I’m not really feeling up to this.”

“Oh, sorry,” Claire replied, dismayed.

“No problem, I probably just need some rest.”

“OK, well, I gotta run to class. Seeya, honey!” she said, waving as she walked away.

“Uh-huh,” Paul replied, sitting down to catch his breath. “I just don’t feel like myself,” he thought, a little concerned.

Just then he heard a voice, “Hey, Paul, you look a bit…depleted. Feeling a little down?”

He looked up, and it took a moment to realize it was Amanda, his ex. She looked and sounded different – better. A lot better. Sitting down while she was standing beside him made Paul feel somehow small, so he stood up. Paul liked dating petite women, like Amanda and Claire, because their smallness amplified his feeling of power. However, as he reached his feet he quickly became aware that something was drastically wrong. He was barely looking down into Amanda’s eyes – she couldn’t have been more than three inches shorter than him. Before he could say anything he started to look down at her feet, to check for heels, but then noticed her breasts.

He couldn’t help but stare at them – protruding proudly and significantly, they could not possibly belong to Amanda. He knew what Amanda’s chest was supposed to look like, and what he was looking at didn’t match the memory in the slightest.

With mock outrage in her voice, Amanda shrieked “Paul!” and lightly pushed his shoulder. Tap though it was, the force of it knocked him off his balance and he toppled heavily into the seat he’d just risen from. “Don’t stare at my tits! What are you, some kind of pervert?”

Staring up at her – because he didn’t know what else to do – he noticed Amanda look over to the other side of the room and nod. He followed her gaze to see Julie working on a laptop across the room, but his attention was interrupted when Amanda stepped closer to him, thrusting her improbably large breasts close to his face. He stared at them, and a moment later, something started to happen: Amanda’s improbably large breasts seemed to be growing to even more improbable largeness.

Amanda didn’t want to make a scene of being buffed again. The feeling of expansion was even greater now than it had been during the first two times, and with it came a sense of ecstasy that was difficult to suppress. Instead she focused on the specific little feelings instead of the big orgasmic feeling. The first thing she noticed was the sensation of her sleeves riding up her arms. She could feel the muscles of her arms and shoulders swelling – growing bigger, rounder and harder. But the same thing was happening all over her body – she was getting taller, bustier, and much stronger. Each time she was buffed her natural athleticism was being amplified to an even greater degree – by now she was probably the strongest, fastest and most physically competent woman on campus. She knew from the earlier experiences that her looks were likely improving, too, along with her mental acuity. When the effect ended, she felt like a queen. And even though Paul now seemed utterly insignificant standing before her, she wanted him to be even less significant, still.

“What just happened?” he asked, staring into Amanda’s now-angelic face. He stood up – a reflex from before but now was looking directly into her eyes. Her clothes were too tight – and the only thing that pulled his attention away from her massive breasts were the bulging muscles of Amanda’s upper body.

“What just happened to you?” he repeated. He was feeling unsure of himself – Amanda had always been a cute little thing, but now she was standing before him, a radiant beauty with spectacular curves and muscles as well-developed as his own. Or, he realized suddenly, as well-developed as his had been until this morning’s sudden onset of weakness.

“Did you do something to me? Is that why I feel so off?”

“Why, Paul, I don’t know what you’re talking about, “ Amanda replied, smirking.

“I’ve felt weak and slow ever since I got up this morning.”

“But Paul, we’re just getting started,” she said.

As if on cue, he felt a wave of weakness rush through him. It felt like being crushed, a sudden sharp ache. He let out a gasp of pain, but then it was gone as suddenly as it had started. Amanda started laughing, and when he looked back at her, he realized she seemed even taller. She was now at least two inches taller than him.

“No! This isn’t possible!” he cried, his clothes hanging on his now very sub-par body. His limbs felt heavy and soft, and just standing stationary he felt as if he were somewhat out of breath.

Amanda reached over and grabbed Paul’s stats book, hefting it easily. She offered it to him, asking, “Don’t you need to get to class?”

He took it, but nearly dropped it. It seemed impossibly heavy – as if its weight had increased three-fold just since the last time he’d carried it. His arm trembled at the weight, and as the book began to slip from his weakened grip he was forced to grab it with both hands, like a girl. Even then its weight remained almost more than he could manage. The upper body strength he’d been so proud of, he realized, was completely gone.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe how weak we’ve made you!” Amanda squealed with delight. She reached over, clasped her hand around his upper arm and squeezed. Her grip made him wince with pain.

“It’s so small! And soft! Oh, this is better than I could have imagined!” she said, giggling.

Paul tried to pull away but his best effort barely budged Amanda’s powerful grip. “Do you want to feel mine?” she asked, and flexed the bicep of her other arm. He could hear the seams of Amanda’s shirt stretching as her new muscles bunched and swelled. He was stunned to see that the resulting mountain of flesh was noticeably larger than his used to be.

It couldn’t be real, he thought, but when he squeezed her biceps he was astonished to feel that it was as solid as any hardcore weightlifter’s. Amanda had grown into a muscular powerhouse, while he’d become a pathetic, underdeveloped weakling.

“What did you…? What did you do to me?”

“I just made your outside match your inside, Paul.” And with that she started to walk past him, brushing him with her shoulder and sending him crashing to the floor. Amanda, after all, was now a 5’10”, 175 pound world-class athlete, whereas 5’8”, 110 pound Paul was even less robust than he looked.

Paul struggled to lift his stats book off the floor. He knew it only weighed about eight pounds, but it felt more like 70 or 80 to him now. Could this be some kind of nightmare, he wondered? It just wasn’t possible that he’d shrunk twice, or that Amanda had grown into some kind of big-breasted amazon.

When he finally got to class (late) he found the lecture almost unintelligible. He seemed to have lost track of the whole meaning of the concept of “correlation”, and had to ask several rudimentary questions about it. This invited chuckles from the other students, especially the girls, whose laughter seemed to have an element of contempt that he’d never before sensed. Also, he was having trouble reading from the whiteboard – his vision just wasn’t what it had been.

Leaving the class en masse, he felt sluggish and nearly lost his balance as people bumped up against him. The other guys from the class all towered over him, but they eyed him warily as if he carried some dread disease. One or two of the girls were taller than him now, and others seemed as tall as him or nearly so. The women seemed to relish in their proximity to him, as if his reduced stature were some riddle to be solved – his fall a prelude to their rise.

A girl who’d expressed interest in him the year before approached him. He couldn’t remember her name but he remembered her flame-red hair. She was the same height as him, now, and a bit gangly. He had rudely dismissed her when she approached him before, but now he found her height and obvious athleticism to be a little intimidating.

“Is that really you, Paul?” she asked.

“Yeah, uh, of course it’s me.”

“Wow, you look really, uh, different.”

“Well, it’s me,” he explained, trying to get away from her. He was unable to walk very quickly, given the weight of the book and the weakness in his legs. She easily kept up, and he noted ruefully that she was holding her stats book at her side, in one hand. Bare-sleeved, her nicely-toned arms were on full display.

“I thought you were, uh, bigger. I’m Roxanne, in case you don’t remember.”

The conversation continued with Paul getting more annoyed but unable to ditch Roxanne. Halfway to his dorm, Paul felt exhausted and needed to stop and rest, so he plopped down on a bench and tried to ignore her.

“Why’d you stop? Are you tired?”

“No, I’m supposed to meet someone here.”

“You look tired. Are you on, like, chemotherapy or something?”

“No! I’m not on chemotherapy.”

“Huh. I ask because you look like you’re wasting away. Didn’t you used to be kind of muscular? Maybe you should, you know, lift weights or something.”

“I do lift weights,” he snarled.

“Really? Maybe you should lift heavier. I mean, not to pry but I bet I’m a lot stronger than you,” she said, with a taunting smile on her face.

“Whatever,” Paul said, now desperately annoyed but unable to formulate any way out.

“You were pretty mean to me last year, you know. And I think it was because you figured there was nothing I could do about it.” Roxanne sat down next to him, using her hip to gently push him to one side of the narrow bench.

“What are doing? Stop that!”

“I just wanted to make some space so I could sit down, too.” She proceeded to easily shove him a little further down the bench.

Unbeknownst to Roxanne and Paul, Julie and Amanda were nearby, watching events transpire.

“I feel kinda bad,” Amanda admitted. “She’s really giving him a hard time.”

“Wanna make him even smaller?” Julie asked.

“Ha! That would be so funny, but no, too mean. He’s already a weakling from being triple-nerfed, how much more can we take before he needs a wheelchair or something?”

“What’s the girl’s name, with him?”

“Roxanne Adams, she lives over in LaGrange Hall.”

Julie did a quick search on campus network before finding Roxanne’s profile page.

“Oh, God. Should we?” Amanda asked.

“The only real question is how much,” Julie giggled.

“Two?” Amanda asked.

“Two?” Julie repeated.

“You think three!?”

“No, no, not three. That would be too much. Let’s just start with one and maybe give her another boost later on,” Julie said.

Meanwhile, Paul was growing every more weary of Roxanne’s taunts.

“Maybe we should arm wrestle?” she asked, “just to find out if you’re as weak as you look.”

Paul looked around, suddenly fearful that Roxanne might choose to humiliate him in public. He saw Amanda and Julie sitting on some steps nearby. They both waved and smiled at him, clearly plotting some new disaster for him, and his anxiety level rose even higher. He started to get up, but Roxanne put her hand on his shoulder and easily pulled him back down.

“Do you remember what you called me last year when I came up to you at a party?”

“N-no,” Paul stammered, terrified that events were spiraling beyond his diminished ability to control them.

“‘Pippi Longstocking’,” she replied. “Funny thing is, you meant it as an insult but I was flattered. I’m proud to be as strong as I am – I work out a lot and I like it when people notice.” With that she raised her arm and flexed, and Paul was stunned by the size and apparent hardness of the biceps that rose up.

“Whoa,” he said, without meaning to. Flexed, her muscles were larger than those of many guys on campus, at the moment including Paul’s own.

“Pumping iron has made me stronger and more muscular over the last year,” she said, “unlike you.”

Roxanne smiled triumphantly, but then a queasy look washed across her face. “Oh, I feel kinda weird,” Roxanne said.

“Oh, crap,” Paul said.

As Paul watched, Roxanne transformed in much the same way that Amanda had earlier. With their hips pressed together, Paul was once again pushed down the bench as Roxanne’s entire body swelled in size and power. With her arm still flexed, the two of them stared in mutual shock as the pale, freckled skin of Roxanne’s already muscular arms stretched even further, as her upper arms swelled by at least an inch and a half in girth. In what seemed like an afterthought, a vein pushed up above the line of her biceps.

Suddenly desperate, Paul looked over to Amanda and Julie for help, only to see the two girls slipping into the library building.

“Oh. Oh my God!” Roxanne said, staring at her bodybuilder-size arms. “This is like a dream! But it’s real!” Suddenly her eyes shifted to Paul. “Do it again.”

“What?” Paul asked, panicked by the plaintive need in Roxanne’s voice.

“Do. It. Again. Make me even stronger. Now.”

Paul protested: “I didn’t do this! I don’t know how it happened!”

Roxanne stood up, and Paul noticed her blouse pulling out of her waistband as she rose (and rose!) to her full height – now something like 5’10”.

With her right hand, Roxanne grabbed him by his shirt and lifted Paul to his feet. She was now at least two inches taller than him, and her formerly unimpressive bustline stretched out the front of the shirt. Her pecs and deltoids were discernable in the way shadows fell on the fabric.

“I can tell that you know the cause of this. It’s in your eyes. Let me be clear: I want to grow even taller and stronger. Do whatever it takes. Make it happen.”

Roxanne dropped Paul back down onto the park bench, turned and strode away.

When Paul got back to his dorm room, the first thing he did was drop the stats book on the floor, strip off his clothes and collapse into bed. The bedframe had always annoyed him because it was only six feet long, but now his feet were inches away from the end of the blankets. How could he keep everyone from finding out what had happened to him when it was so obvious, he wondered? Especially Claire, who loved his strength so much? He couldn’t let her see him like this, he decided. Not until he’d gotten back to his old size and strength. Surely Amanda would give back what belonged to him, if he asked the right way. Then he drifted off.

He woke several hours later to see Claire kneeling beside the bed, wearing one of his sweatshirts.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

His eyes went wide. “Claire!”

“Are you OK? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, “nothing’s wrong.”

“OK,” she said, looking at him suspiciously, “Well, get out of bed, I brought you some soup.”

“Could you leave it for me? I’ll eat it later.”

“Leave it for you? I thought I’d sleep here tonight and nurse you back to health.” She sat down on the bed and let her weight settle on his chest as she brought her lips to his, but pulled back when Paul grunted in pain.

“Paul? What’s wrong?”

When he didn’t respond, she jerked back his blanket to see if he was injured. When she saw his shrunken, emaciated body, she let out a gasp.

“Oh, God! I knew it!” she said, “It’s some kind of curse!”

“What?” he said.

“Paul, I don’t know how to tell you this, but your muscles are gone! You’re…you’re some kind of puny weakling now!”

“I know that,” he said, sullenly.

“And it’s my fault!” she sobbed.

“What? How is it your fault?” he asked, surprised at her reaction.

She stripped off the sweatshirt, revealing a physique even more powerfully built than the one he’d seen on Roxanne earlier that afternoon. She was naked from the waist up, and looked as if she’d been carved out of marble. Paul stared, amazed and strangely fascinated by the hard new swells and bulges on Claire’s body.

“When I woke up this morning,” she sobbed, “I went to the gym and realized that somehow I’d grown stronger, taller and more muscular than I ever dreamed I could be. It was everything I ever wanted. I was so happy and couldn’t wait to tell you, but when I saw you in the cafeteria this morning, you seemed turned off by me being so much taller and, and bigger than I’d been before.”

She continued, “So this afternoon while I was in the library, I thought ‘Well, if Paul is threatened by a woman who is strong like him, I’ll find someone else. There’s nothing wrong with being a strong woman, and I’m just going to keep pumping iron and getting as strong as I can! Maybe I’ll get even stronger than him! That will show him!’”

“You were this, uh, big in the cafeteria?” Paul asked.

Claire took a deep breath, and Paul watched as her slab-liked pectorals rose and fell. His manhood rose in sympathy with her chest, but stayed up in defiance.

“No! That’s why this is my fault. A few minutes after I thought about how fun it would be if I was stronger than you, a strange feeling came over me and right there, I suddenly grew even larger and stronger! Somehow my wishes are doing this! I’ve turned into a muscular supergirl by draining your size and strength! I’ve become incredibly strong, but the cost is too high if you have to become a puny weakling!”

“It’s not your fault, Claire. It’s my ex-girlfriend Amanda and her roommate. They’ve got a machine or something that’s doing this. They just think it’s funny to transform me into a weakling and make you so strong at the same time.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And hey, um, could I feel your muscles?”

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