Working Light

Janus Goodyear has been betrayed by his former lover. He gets revenge in the best way he knows how.

Janus Goodyear, at least according to the name tag that adorned his ever so precisely pressed and meticulously creased two shades off of cream lab coat, sat idly at his desk buried deep at the back of one of the larger labs in the sprawling Medtech complex. Other areas of the room contained the conspicuous clutter so indicative of the chemist at work; pipettes, bunsen burners, beakers, vials, reactants, and unguents all about in controlled confusion on the black acid resistant countertops, among the deep well sinks, and tucked in the negative pressure hoods for handling dangerous chemicals. But this halted in a broad circle some distance from Goodyear's desk, transforming into orderly rows of beakers, carefully polished pipettes individually wrapped and standing at attention, like a professionally deployed combat regiment ready to spring forth into effort. Chemicals were not only ordered and arranged in amount and alphabetically, they also ran in correct and proper bottle size across the shelves. This all led into the precisely positioned desk, its surface clean, with only a phone and notepad to mar it. A dry erase board beyond contained scribblings of various alchemical means, racked across the white layer with a cool handwriting. Behind that a wall contained the only personal adornment, several plaques and frames bearing the names of numerous degrees and awards, all focusing on one Janus Goodyear.

Janus swept a lock of his dark hair back from where it had flipped down in front of his glasses. It was late, and no one else was about, but that was hardly unusual for the young workaholic. At the age of twenty five, armed with two PhD's and several accumulated BA's, Janus spent an inordinate amount of time working, driving himself with a will that fellow employees could only stand aside from and marvel. His chosen field of chemical dynamics had already reaped him two patents that gave reasonable royalties, with the promise of more to come from his fertile mind. The fact that he was sitting here, tonight, doing nothing, spoke of things unusual.

Pulling back one sleeve, he checked the time on a simply designed Rolex, then examined himself in the burnished side of a cabinet. A youthful countenance peered back, lanky black hair wandering unattended over reasonable features, if it were not for their gauntness. A thinner frame supported the formally worn lab coat, shoulders larger than they were due to the starched shoulders of the clothing. Eating a more balanced diet of nutrients might result in a reduction of his obvious weight loss, he mused. After all, at this point in his career it was vital to make correct first impressions. For a moment more he stared, then turned away, vaguely disturbed, although he would not admit it even to himself, by some undefinable desire buried in that face, deep enough to be considered a hunger. For what, he knew not.

The distant crash of a door shouldered aside rang through the quiet lab, and he smiled slightly. Finally. Rechecking his watch he estimated his previous predictions were over one half hour off. No matter, they were nothing more than the prediction of reactions by a personality that he soon would not have to be concerned with.

A clicking on the marbled tile drew closer, rhythmic cadence of someone in a definite hurry. He knew the footfall well. She would be coming around the corner right about...

"Goodyear, I want to talk to you!" a sultry voice javelined straight to him. Something you would expect on a movie, those professionally modulated words carried an iron ring of authority. Even so, an undeniable feminine quality underlay it in all dimensions, giving an oddly compelling quality. The owner shortly followed her remark.

The snap click of heels halted behind Janus, replaced by a soft snicking. Toe tapping, he assumed. Waiting several heartbeats for just that right amount of rebellion without seeming disgruntled, he turned.

"Denise, how nice to see you! What a surprise to see you here this late. Burning some of that midnight oil?" he asked jocularly, knowing that a casual demeanor would irritate her even more than she already was. And the first part of his statement was quite true, since he had been glad to see her since the very first time she had taken his hand during his interview. Every workday, every date, every moment together he had been glad. Even now, after his examination of recent records and the knowledge on just how much money and prestige she had stolen from him, from his work, he was still glad to see her. The money he might not have minded, even forgiven as just payment for her to be with such a socially inept and inverted person as himself, but publishing a paper containing his own work was irredeemable. And it hurt, more -much more- than he cared to admit. An abrasive personality with a matching genius had resulted in his complete and utter lack of ability to get along with almost anyone, much less any woman who might be interested in him. And then, finally, when he had consigned himself to being alone for good with only his career, along came Denise.

Denise Flanagan stood well over his five foot eight height, even if he were standing up. Approaching six feet, she did not have the build of other women that size, but showed slim curvature that would have done any five four lady proud. Honed by careful exercise and a diet orchestrated by two chefs, her body was another weapon, along with her amazing voice, in furthering her career. A face best expressed as wonderfully kissable in its less irate moments glared down at him from that lofty height, iron blue eyes flashing under long lashes and above sculpted cheekbones. She would be beautiful without makeup, but with it applied she attained a perfection few could match, bright lips perfectly matching the made up cheeks, eye shadow applied for almost a sensual look, but not quite. The only flaw, if it could be called such, was perhaps a slightly too aggressive jaw line. Precisely coifed hair of the deepest red hue, not a strand out of place, fell in a straight line to form bangs then reaching down to rest on her shoulders. A light sports coat, shoulders padded just enough to give her already athletic frame that little extra touch, held sway over a robin's egg blue silk blouse. A leather knee length skirt was her only concession to the wild side, draping down her rounded legs to two inch high heeled leather pumps that added to her already intimidating height.

"Don't give me that, Goodyear." She seemed quite agitated; somewhat unusual from her usual icy professionalism. "What are you up to?"

Janus blinked, hoping he was not going too far on the innocent act. An irrational bit of rage squirmed to get out, was quickly squelched. How dare she hide from him what she had done! How dare she take what he had done. How dare she just use him and cast him aside. Was no woman he met willing to just be a friend? But justice was almost unknown in the research and publishing world, with accolades going to those who presented first, thus this moment that was upon them. "Whatever do you mean? I have removed all of my clothing from your apartment, and have made sure the keys were returned. Our breakup is proceeding without a hitch, I had assumed." For a brief moment he recalled the glorious moments of their relationship, his first contact with a counterpart as driven as he. Unfortunate that her drive had required her to sacrifice their togetherness. A moment of her gripping him tightly on her enormous double bed, shortly after their second date, flashed across his mind, followed by the mind numbing anger he had fallen into when he read through the draft presented at last June's conference only to realize where she had taken her information from, claiming it as her own.

"That's not what I meant," she snarled, extending one manicured hand, palm up. The crumbled remains of a lumpy powder rested there for a moment before she flicked it onto his desk. "I just ate my salad, brought in this morning fresh by my assistant. It tasted somewhat unusual, so I examined it rather closely. Imagine my surprise when I found this along the base of the plate. Since Anthony's not a very bright boy, I cast about and realized there was only one other person who visited my office all day today. You wouldn't be trying some childish prank like spiking my food with your favorite regurgitant, would you?" A slightly superior smile flickered across her face as she raised her nose somewhat.

How had he ever been fooled into loving her? "Ate all of your salad, did you?"

"Most of it. Now what is this?"

"What, haven't riffled my files of late to check what I might be working on?" he shot back. "Seems as though you've been through a lot of my belongings of late, including the ones that I had not brought over to your apartment." The bitterness he could not hold back tinged his voice. "Items like my royalties, contracts and patents, and we probably should not forget the manahydrase research now, should we."

For a moment their eyes locked, his aflame with an uncontrollable temper that occasionally overwhelmed him, hers calculating. After a moment or two she sighed, then shrugged her broad shoulders.

"You would have found out sooner or later I suppose. That's what made it so challenging." An almost predatory smile flashed across her face for a second.

"That's all this, all I..., was to you? A challenge? Some sort of game?" That squirming rage began to boil, arching for his brain. Any regrets for what he was planning slipped aside, dropping like the antidote hidden in the back bottom drawer of his desk had when he tossed it in there.

"No, not completely a game," she answered slowly. "We had our moments, it's true. But in the end the only thing that matters is getting further ahead. You were the best way to do that. Within a few months I should be able to step from just lab executive to the accounting board, perhaps even the president's office. And shortly after that, I may very well own this place." Looking at him levelly, she continued. "If you play it well, I'll take you along, even go so far as to make sure you always have a position here."

"Just a tool..." he fumed under his breath, apparently just loud enough for her to hear in the quiet.

"In the end? Yes. I'd say I'm sorry if I hurt you, but we both know each other too well for that. I have goals, you have yours. If you learn to use mine like I have yours, perhaps you'll get something out of this. But you will be quiet. I have too much riding on this. Don't think I won't have you taken care of, even permanently if necessary."

Janus looked up at her amazonian form, picturing the slight disdain he saw in her look. He was used up for her; time to look for another useful victim. In a strange sort of way, what he was about to do would benefit some other man, keep him from being abused as he had been.

"Now, what about this powder," she pressed insistently.

"Aren't you worried I might desire some form of revenge?"

"There's nothing you can do legally," she replied promptly. "And I know you quite well personally. You might grow quite irrational when aroused, but as for personal attacks, I think I'm quite safe." She drew herself up, towering over him.

"Oh, that's true," he nodded, recalling how easily she controlled their adventures between sheets. "Too bad you're not quite accurate however."

"How do you mean?" A slight wrinkle of concentration marred her perfect brow for a moment.

"I mean about how irrational I get. Counseling never quite cured up the problem I have when I'm pushed. If you'd checked a bit more thoroughly into my background you'd have realized just what I think of words like `revenge' and `vindictive'. All my sessions ever taught me when I was little was how to hide what I was feeling, not to overcome it."

"Well then," she murmured, "I suppose I should be thankful you're not the violent sort."

"No, no I'm not," he agreed. "I am, however, rather amoral. Amoral enough to have placed an extremely untested compound with extremely interesting properties on living and non living organic matter in your food."

She blanched, dropping the dust from her hand. If there was one thing she knew from her relationship with him, it was that he did not bluff or exaggerate.

He continued on relentlessly, "I came across it quite recently as a matter of fact. Something derived from that long chain polymer that they came back with after visiting the moon. Unusual properties, they said, then stashed it in a vault for the next few decades. Well, I discovered a few unusual things after I'd pulled some strings to get it out."

"You, you didn't... This is criminal! You have no idea what that substance could do to me! You're in a great deal of trouble, mister!" She glowered at him. "I think I might have to call security right now on this."

"Don't bother," he shrugged. "It's completely harmless and totally benign." Her slight relaxation of relief was his cue. "Unless exposed to a particular radiation wavelength like this one." Bringing out a small lead box from beneath his desk, he flipped back the lid, revealing a rather nondescript stone of indeterminate origin.

She gasped, backpedaling slightly, then slowed with a rather bemused expression on her face. "Nice try, but it doesn't wash. If you'd been slightly more scientific about the whole thing, I might just have believed you."

"Denise, what I fed you is something that's going to revolutionize the field of chemistry as we know it and probably, at the very least, win me the Nobel Prize. It, and I, are light years beyond anything you've ever heard of. Too bad you most likely won't be around to see that."

The silent tableau between the two of them was interrupted suddenly by a loud growling rumble centered on Denise's abdomen. Looking down, she rested her hands on the flat expanse above her pelvis. "No way. It can't be real," she whispered.

"Oh, it is," Janus continued, a strange light kindling in his eyes. "You could say I've discovered the long sought after philosopher's stone. It's always been there, we just didn't know where to look."

A low sibilant gurgle was heard, rising into a soft hiss. Denise's hands flew behind her to her backside, a quizzical moue pursing her lips into that adorable expression of surprise that Janus, at one time, had adored so much. He craned his neck to see what she was doing.

Her posterior was swelling.

Denise's expression of startlement continued as her hands groped about, leather creaking under her indelicate administrations. Janus could see the wrinkles growing smoother, the layering spreading under the internal pressure from her widening half globes. After a moment of this the susurration ceased and her probing fingers discovered no further growth, only what had happened. The increase was not great, merely expanding her to the point where it was the most prominent attribute of her bodily features, curving out from her back.

"What have you done to me," she whispered, staring at him with a look he had never seen on her before, compounded of equal parts of shock and disbelief.

"Truthfully? I don't know." As she took another step backwards, he rose from his chair to sit on the edge of the desk. "Reducing proximity to the source of the radiation will do no good. The first dose, according to my calculations, is all that's needed."

Shoulders straightening, Denise strode forward, grasping him painfully by one arm. As always, a vague flicker of startlement at her strength went through him. "All right, you've had your fun. I don't know what sort of insanity or hallucinatory drugs you've slipped me, but this stops here. I want the antidote, or the knowledge of whatever you've given me, right now. Give me that and perhaps you won't end up in jail!"

Wincing at her grip, Janus made a noncommittal face. "All right, I have it right here in my drawer. If the only effect caused is an addition to your already ample posterior, then it's my safest maneuver." He looked down at her hand on his arm. "If you would?"

Letting go, she took a step back, surreptitiously stealing a hand back to pat her new asset. He turned, evidencing dejected defeat, inwardly trembling with excitement. It had worked, was continuing to work. The possibilities were, quite literally, near infinite.

Rummaging through the drawers, he came up with a small atomizer, tiny bulb containing a golden liquid. The real antidote tumbled deeper into the interior as he shoved the door shut. "Here, spray this on yourself." Noticing her suspiciousness, he said "Here, it's perfectly harmless." Puffing a bit carefully on his treated lab coat, he held it up and sniffed deeply. "Would I do that if it were dangerous?"

"No. No, I suppose not." Gingerly she accepted the bottle. "Just on my clothing or what?"

"All over." He mimed spraying around himself. "Get it on what you wear and your head and all." He watched as she spritzed a glittering cloud of vapor everywhere, the substance drifting down and settling on her and the surrounding tile.

"There," she set the atomizer down on a nearby countertop decisively. "Now, we're going to keep this quiet between the two of us. Nice to see you showing a little spine for once, even you did give in so easily." Her smile of superiority was even more offensive this time. "Interesting enough to almost make me want to keep you around. Unfortunately I don't quite trust you anymore, so I'm afraid you're going to have to be fired."

"Whoever said I gave in?" he smiled slowly, a complete lack of mirth in that expression. The strange light was back in his eyes again. "All part of the plan, my dear. All part of the plan."

Eyes narrowing dangerously, Denise moved towards him. Or, at least, she tried to. The motion of her leg was halted by the complete dedication on the part of her shoe to come with. Jerking to a halt, she stared down, only now noticing the unusual gleam on the floor where she was standing. Twisting in place, she looked down to see that the brushed leather of her shoes had taken on the same odd gleam, a change that was now proceeding up her nylons, moving towards the hem of her skirt. A quick look showed no difference in her jacket, but the blouse underneath had splotches spreading as well.

Janus blinked in surprise as her hair even seemed to undergo the most dramatic shift, thickening slightly and springing upward, gaining body until she looked as though she had on one of the punk style wigs so popular in eighties bands. An unexpected side effect, but amusing.

"What did you do!" she shouted, twisting in place as she tried to free her feet. Outside of some snaps and pings there was no evidence her shoes were willing to give up quite yet. It was also apparent they had a rather good grip on her feet, considering she could not tug her toes free, although she was putting some effort into that.

"Another little application; one that I wasn't sure would work," he commented delightedly. "That spray you just shot all over yourself, apart from welding you to the floor for a moment, also transformed the majority of your organic clothing into the same long chain polymer I mentioned earlier. It seems to have affected your hair and your skin a bit as well." His countenance suddenly turned deadly serious. "Never fear, the rest of you will feel the same effect."

"What are you talking about..." Denise suddenly stopped her efforts, hands flying to her stomach as another rumbling gurgle echoed, rising into the sizzling hiss of earlier. This time it was her hips, creaking outward against the leather. A few seconds later the sound grew incrementally stronger, and her thighs began a definite expansion, the effect creeping down her legs until it reached her calves.

"This is impossible!" Denise got out, before letting out a sudden shriek. The cause of this was her calves, both puffing up with a snap to several inches greater circumference than they had been. Formerly slender runners legs were developing into what seemed to be bemuscled voluptuan's limbs. As her pelvis gave a tentative twitch forward she reached down and pressed hard against her hips. "Stop it, just stop it! What am I filling with?"

Janus blinked at the unfamiliar shrillness in her voice. "Oh, some sort of gas, I do believe. From what I expect, you're transforming in ways that I can't explain. Don't worry, in future I will do less drastic transformations and study them in detail. I just thought for you, I should pull out all the stops. After all, you have such an interest in my research. Actually my jacket's treated with a blocker, so it wasn't affected like you're being."

Denise was not really listening, her pushing having forced her body to respond in a new way. Pressure against her now snug skirt had caused her globing buttocks to sink inward somewhat. A slight smile of concentration spreading on her face, she squeezed harder, trying to cover as much as she could with her hands. Suddenly she hiccuped, a strange expression on her face. Her behind shrunk, and with an oddly indrawn whoosh her chest bulged outward, jacket creaking as the front was forced open slightly.

Janus kept an eye on the view as his ex-lover's form swelled. The panic in her eyes more than repaid his past suffering as he watched her expand. An odd twist of the increase focused on her muscle structure for a moment, and sleeves swelled as her shirt started to pull taught at the expanding wedge of her shoulders. Now it appeared there were twin volleyballs adorning her chest, and she clutched at these desperately, unbelievingly, as her form started to resemble some obscenely overinflated caricature of a woman, hair shaking and wobbling with every movement.

"What have you done?" she squeaked, voice having raised a few octaves. "My voice? What's happening to me?" A soft moan followed along with a loud ping from her now perfectly smooth skirt, which was struggling to contain the flesh trying to well out underneath.

"As I said, I don't know. Let's see, shall we?" Janus perched jauntily on his desk. "Best field experiment I've ever conducted." Oddly enough, he found himself being strangely aroused by this forced expansion. Her amazonian physique had always intrigued him, and the swollen immensity of her stretched flesh appealed to him in a way he could not explain. Perhaps it was time to spread his education into the field of psychology and see what exactly was wrong with him. At the moment however, that was a mere side note.

"Oh god, oh god..." Denise managed as she discovered her hands no longer quite met in the middle of her chest. Massive spheres hid within her shirt, steadily pushing their way out of her straining jacket. The both of them jumped as there was a sudden bang, Denise's hair shuddering. Janus leaned over to examine with some interest the button that had burst from her jacket.

"Things starting to get a bit stiff in there?" he asked innocently as her arms started to raise to her sides. Soft pops and creaks were followed by some sharp ripping burrs as seams on the jacket blew out one by one, exposing her increasing torso with only the layered blue blouse to cover it. The leather below held far better, forcing her upper form to expand without cease while her lower legs bulged massively below.

Turning pleading eyes to him she cried, "Help me! What do you want? I'll give anything, anything at all!" Her eyes glistened with moistness as she struggled to bring her sausage like arms forward. A single button popped with a zing off the front of her blouse, exposing gaping cleavage below better than the surrounding gaps through the still holding buttons. Janus noted with clinical curiosity that she was not wearing a bra again. A further note was that her nipples had either receded or been stretched too flat to be visible.

Janus had leaned forward, staring at Denise with a single minded intensity that would have been nerve racking if what were happening to her had not been going on. Barely able to see her pale face over the swelling rise of her bloated breasts and bulging shoulders, he spoke in a monotone voice. "Revenge."

Further buttons gave one by one, each pop followed by a gasp and a shudder from Denise. Apparently she was in the grip of some sensation from the expansion that Janus could not identify. If he tried this again it would have to be with a more coherent subject, he thought, scientific interest overcoming the lucridity of that concept. Finally her chest leapt free, twin spheres the size of large beachballs bouncing for a moment. The odd thing was, they were in proportion to her great shoulders pressing up against her neck and her giant arms, puffed like tube balloons. Her tiny waist, each abdominal muscle clearly visible by their size, only emphasized the upper and lower hourglass shape.

"The pressure... Oh the pressure..." She whispered, eyes squinched up. A long drawn out creak and moan from the skirt signaled the beginning of the end. A low whimper was the only sign from Denise, the whistling hiss underscoring everything.

The whipcrack of her bottom ripping its way to freedom nearly took Janus off the desk. He stared in awe now, amazed at the impossible figure before him, twin titanic hemispheres of breast occluding her face, nearly caught by the rotund buttocks above the immense thighs and pelvis. He would have thought she would be soft to the touch, but the shape her body was holding clearly indicated there was high pressure in there. Her underwear had given out long ago, if it had ever been around at all, otherwise it would have been giving her a world class wedgie.

"Please!" Her voice, now high and strangely soft, came to him. "Someone, anyone! Help meeeee!" A last final creak was heard, and he looked down to notice her feet had expanded enough to bulge out of the tops of her shoes. This seemed to be enough to break the seal that had held her in. First one popped out, then the other. Instead of landing on the floor however, her swollen shape bounced once, ponderously, on one foot.

Then she began a slow ascent to the ceiling.

Janus blinked, coming out of his reverie to discover himself stiff as a rock. Scientific impossibility before him, and all he could do was react sexually, he mused. Soft cries drew his attention upwards, as he noted Denise had rotated as she rose until her back had touched against the ceiling. Tears ran down Denise's terrified face, her complete helplessness pushing the once completely in control woman to the brink.

The expansion apparently was not near complete, Janus saw, as her rigidly spread eagled form continued to blow up. Now her waist had begun to balloon, matching the jutting bust and flaring hips. Her shoulders were so immense that they were pushing against her cheeks and chin. Only feet and fingers still kicked and even these were swelling, her hands rounding and her feet puffing.

"I can feel it," she cried. "It's not stopping. I'm blowing up even bigger. Please, Janus. Please! I... I hugmp..." If possible her eyes widened even further as her cheeks suddenly welled up, lips plumping until all she could manage was a desperate moan.

And still she grew, skin taking on a slight plastine sheen. Nipples were invisible now, spread over too wide an area. Her legs and arms were being absorbed into the immense globularity of her torso. Soon her expansion would have her wedged between the floor and ceiling, a distance of over ten feet.

Thinking fast, Janus raced over to the delivery door, snapping the safety strap and rolling it open with a heave. Dashing back, he reached up and put a hand against Denise's flank, feeling a taut warm surface, somewhat akin to touching an overinflated balloon. Ignoring her muffled whimpers, he rolled her across the ceiling, marveling at the incredible lift she was generating. Obviously something odd was going on in there that needed examination. However, if she did something precipitous in the lab there would be entirely too much explaining to do.

"Finally," he gasped, heaving her over the ceiling lip of the delivery door, her nearly spherical shape barely fitting through the semi sized access. The last turn brought her face around, rubbery skin blown up around it and her barely visible hands and feet. Terrified eyes met his, a single tear touching his hand. He paused.

A single moment of compassion flickered through, and then was quenched in a river of flame. Her ruse would not fool him. After all, she had threatened to kill him. Kissing her rounded lips with a fervorous intensity, he pushed away, uncaring as she rolled out the door to vanish upwards into the night sky, uncaring as to whether she would drift and come down eventually or continue to swell until that final moment, uncaring at her fading wail.

Janus staggered back to his desk, leaning against it with trembling arms. It was not enough, it was never enough. The rage still burned through his veins. But now he knew what he had to do to douse it. He would get revenge on them all. Sick he may be, but he was bright enough to make sure that would never be caught. The face he raised to the world was a changed one, lit with that inner drive, focused on a new goal.

Dr. Goodyear left late that evening, signing out with nary a word to either security guard. Dr. Flanagan never did come out.