Nora's Nightmare

My name is Nora Smith. I'm a perfectly ordinary 20 year-old girl - or
at least I was until a few days ago. I thought I had better put down
my story on paper while I was still able to write. As it is, I am
having to use a pen, since I can no longer use a computer keyboard,
for reasons that will become clear before the end of this story.

Let me tell you just a little about myself. I'm 5 feet 8 inches tall,
have medium length blonde hair (dyed), and am (was) slimly built (32B,
23, 34). I don't have a boyfriend at the moment, though I think I'm
quite attractive. I live on my own in a rented apartment. I work as a
secretary for a law firm.

It all started three nights ago. I've always enjoyed watching horror
films, and that evening I watched (not for the first time) "Nightmare
on Elm Street". That evening when I went to bed I had a strange and
vivid dream. In it, I was lying on my bed in my own bedroom, but it
appeared to be broad daylight - at least, I could see everything
clearly. Standing at the foot of the bed was a grotesque figure, whom
I recognised as Freddie from the movie. I found I was unable to move
or cry out. He spoke, in a harsh grating voice: "Hello, Nora. I'm
bored with killing helpless children and teenagers, so I've decided to
try something a bit different. I think it'll be a lot of fun. Of
course, since you're my chosen victim you may feel differently."

He moved towards me then, and I tried to pull away, but couldn't move.
He raised his right arm towards me and I saw than the fingers, instead
of
being made of knives as in the films, were made of five hypodermic
syringes containing a green liquid. He pressed the syringe that did
duty as a thumb into my right breast just below the nipple, and half
emptied it into my breast. Then he gave the left breast the same
treatment.

Perhaps it was the dream pain of the two needle pricks that woke me
up, because I did wake up at that point. As the mists of sleep cleared
away, I realised to my relief that it had only been a dream, albeit an
unusually realistic one. Then I noticed that the places where I had
been injected in the dream *did* feel slightly tender. I turned on my
bedside lamp, noticing in the process that it was just after midnight,
and examined my breasts. Each one had a tiny bubble of blood just
below the nipple, as if they had been pricked by a needle. "Don't be
ridiculous", I thought to myself, and eventually managed to go back to
sleep.

In the morning, my breasts felt a bit tender, and my bra seemed very
slightly on the tight side, but I had almost forgotten about the dream
by then, and didn't pay much attention. I grabbed a quick breakfast,
and went off to work. As the morning wore on, the tightness of my bra
seemed to get slowly worse. Round about 11 o'clock, I gave in, and
went to the restroom to adjust my clothing. I was wearing a fairly
baggy blouse, which I unbuttoned to see what was the trouble. I could
see that the edges of the cups of my 32B bra were cutting painly into
my breasts, which appeared to have swollen to something approaching a
C cup since I got up that morning. I was beginning to feel rather
alarmed. I removed my bra and put it in my bag. I would have to go
braless for the rest of the morning, which was no great problem since
even at their increased size my breasts showed little evidence of sag.
At lunch-time I could go shopping for a new bra.

The earliest I could go for lunch was 1 o'clock. As it got towards
one, I noticed my fellow workers were beginning to give me curious
looks. The baggy blouse was no longer so baggy as it had been earlier,
and my growing boobs were beginning to make some interesting curves in
the thin material. My becoming aware of their attention had the
unfortunate effect of making my nipples spring erect, which now made
it obvious, if it wasn't before, that I wasn't wearing a bra.

Eventually 1 o'clock came, and I hurried out of the office, feeling my
breasts bounce just a bit more than I was used to. I wished the
weather hadn't been so warm that I had left my coat at home that
morning. I felt that everyone was staring at me, though I dare say
that in reality most of the passers-by were oblivious to my passing.
The material of my blouse was beginning to pull apart a bit between
the buttons now, so there was obviously no time to lose, and I dived
into the nearest women's clothes shop.

I needed a D cup bra now, I discovered, and confused the assistant by
insisting on buying DD, EE and FF bras as well. I wanted to be prepared.
They didn't do anything beyond an FF, but I hoped it wouldn't come to
that. I also bought a variety of blouses and sweaters. Comfortably
attired, I returned to work. I was wearing a very baggy sweater now,
to the disppointment of my obviously curious (but unwilling to say
anything) co-workers. Mid-afternoon, my new bra began to feel
uncomfortably tight, so I repaired to the restroom again and switched
to one of my DD cup bras.

Fortunately the rate of growth seemed to be tapering off now, though
by the end of the working day my sweater was no longer anything like
so baggy as it had been. I got into my car, drove home, rushed into
the bathroom, stripped, and regarded myself in the mirror. My breasts
were, if embarrassing, also magnificent. There was still very little
sag, and they stood out proudly from my torso, their nipples erect. As
near as I could judge with the tape measure, around the widest part of
my bust I now measured some 44 inches. The growth seemed to have
stopped. "I can live with this," I thought. "Thank you, Freddie. I
always wanted largher tits."

That night, however, Freddie appeared again. "You look very nice, my
dear," he leered. "However, I'm not finished yet." Again I attempted
to cringe away, again without success. I expected him to inject my
breasts again, but this time he emptied his syringe into my stomach a
couple of inches above my belly button. As last night, I awoke, and as
last night there was small but undeniable evidence that I had indeed
been injected. Getting off to sleep again was hard, but after an hour
of tossing and turning I managed it.

In the morning, my belly was already slightly swollen. I was about the
equivalent of two or three months pregnant, I reckoned. This was
something I had not anticipated when I went shopping yesterday. At
least my breasts had not grown any further. I decided going into work
would not be wise. An apparent pregnancy out of nowhere would be bound
to attract attention, and probably ribald comment too. I called in
sick. Then I pulled on a pair of stretch lycra tracksuit bottoms,
which were the vonly mpants I had that fit comfortable, and headed for
a shop specialising in maternity wear.

I returned an hour later laden with a range of trousers and smocks
that would cope with any belly up to 9 months pregnant. As the day
before, the rate of growth seemed to peak in the middle of the day and
then taper off. At the end of the day I had a belly swollen to about
the 6 to 7 months stage. I wondered if I should try to stay awake all
night to avoid a further encounter with Freddie. However, I would have
to sleep sooner or later. I decided I would try a sleeping tablet.
Perhaps that would make me sleep so soundly that I wouldn't dream.

It didn't work. Freddie appeared, leering and chuckling. This time, to
my
alarm, he used a whole syringe on each breast and followed it with
another in my belly. Then he injected me in the tip of my nose and in
the top of each earlobe. This time I found my voice. "No," I shouted.
"That will make me grotesque". "Yes, won't it just," he replied. The
sleeping tablet had one effect. This time I didn't wake up. Since it
would be Saturday, I hadn't set the alarm, and the effect of the drug
was that I didn't wake up till about 9. Half asleep, I went to roll
over onto my stomach, but my swollen belly and breasts got in the way,
which rapidly brought me to full consciousness.

I hadn't got much bigger yet. My belly was about at the 7 months
stage, and my breasts fit comfortably in the EE cup bra. All morning I
continued to swell, though. By noon my swelling breasts and belly had
met. I was now looking 9 months pregnant, and my breasts had just
outgrown my largest bra, the FF. My largest maternity trousers were
full almost to capacity, and my largest sweater was beginning to
stretch. It was also riding up, displaying the upper half of my belly.
None of this, though, was as humiliating as the changes that were
taking place to my face. My nose had now extended to beyond Cyrano
proportions; I estimated it at about 3 inches long. My ears now looked
like pixie ears, having grown upwards about 3 inches and being
pointed at the top.

As before, the growth slowed down in the afternoon. I'm writing this
at about 7pm, and the growth seems finally to have stopped. My belly
is the equivalent of being about 10 months pregnant with twins. My
breasts are so large that I can only just touch the fingers of my two
hands together beyond them. As far as I can measure it, my bust
measurement is now in the region of 70 inches. None of my clothes fits
any more, so I'm sitting here stark naked. Just walking is difficult,
standing from a sitting position even harder. Worse than any of this
is my face. My nose is about 6 inches long. Every time I go to look at
myself in the mirror (which I can't resist doing), I misjudge the
distance and bang the end of it. My ears now look more like those of a
donkey than a pixie, except that they aren't covered in hair.

I've no idea what new degradation he'll heap on me tonight. As far as
I can see there's no way out. All I can do is hope to warn others. So
whatever you do, don't watch any Freddie films.


                               The End