Bad Day at the Office

    Alba hated her new cubicle. She hated, hated, hated it. Her new chair was as strong as wet cardboard and as irritating as an infant, always whining and repenting like salvation was more than a pipe dream. He was barely strong enough to hold her up. Her desk, which she couldn't adjust, was too high and would catch on fire from time to time. Because no one considered the logic of installing wooden desks on the floor closest to the sea of magma. And then there was the noise. The noise! The constant, unending cries of the damned that, for some inexplicable reason, were heard on her floor and her floor only. That was the rotten cherry on top of her shit cake of a 'promotion' from IT to Sales and Services. Her only cubicle decoration was a second-hand poster of a baby banshee holding onto a stalactite that said, "It's Hell, Get Used To It." A classic, really.
    There were some benefits, though. Being the only white skinned succubus on her floor caught the attention of a lot of demons seeking something more 'exotic', even if her lack of wings was a turn-off. The pay was a good leg up above IT wages, enough for her to buy better skin lotion and more clothes. She was starting to get tired of wearing the same outfit all the time; tight red dress shirt, black pencil skirt and fishnet stockings, black angular blazer, and black stiletto heels. Even though it accentuated her frame, which was voluptuous even for a succubus, the lack of choice bugged her. Besides, her hair was the same color as her shirt. And that just won't do.

    "Please, Lord," her chair moaned, "forgive me for I have- "

    Alba rolled her eyes and ground her stiletto heel on his hand, "Shut up!" She said over his cries of pain, "God ain't gonna hear you from here." Irritating. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if something would actually happen. "I've worked in this seventh level for a damn month and the phone's only rang-" Suddenly, her thought was interrupted by a miracle. The phone was actually ringing! Alba yanked the phone to her ear, "Lucifer's Dark Desires, how may I help you?"

    "Our father," the speaker stammered, "who, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy-"

    Alba slammed the phone on the reciever and sighed, "Another fucking pastor." She checked the time on her wristwatch, disappointed that it was only 3:42.

    "You got a god call, too?" Leta, her cube mate, asked.

    Alba poked her head around the wall, "Yeah, another one. Is it always like this?"

    "Nah, it's just because it's Lent. Trust me, the day after Easter is a clusterfuck like you wouldn't believe." Leta took out a file and worked on her nails, kicking her feet up on her desk.

    "Let's hope so. This fucking sucks- " Again, she was interrupted. However, it was the phone ringing yet again. Today was really looking up for her, after all! Alba ripped the phone from the receiver, "Oh please let this be real- Lucifer's Dark Desires, how may I serve you?"

    "Uh, hello? Um, my name is Sylvia Berkowics. I, uh-"

    "Hi Sylvia! My name is Alba. What services do you require?"

    "I uh, I need help with writing."

    Alba deflated, "Ma'am, we're more focused towards sexual pleasures than literature. I think you ought to-"

    "No no, wait! I, I need help writing inflation porn. Like, I don't know how to describe this scene and I need to see for myself-"

    "I'll tell you what. I'm not exactly busy right now, so," Alba paused, "I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

    "Really? Oh, thank you thank-" Alba hung up.

    "A fucking writer. Why can't it be a masochist or business executive?" Alba got up and headed toward the changing room on the other side of the floor.

    She pushed the door open and turned on the lights, glad that no one else was inside. Even a succubus needs her privacy. Alba opened her locker and put her uniform on the bench before slipping off her heels. She unrolled her stockings and tossed them in the locker, followed by her leather belt and blazer. She unbuttoned her red shirt and tossed the crumpled clothing in as well. Her pencil skirt topped the pile. Her black lace underwear received special treatment and was hung on hooks. Alba took a moment to enjoy this brief moment of total nudity in the middle of the day before donning her outfit. Not like her outfit was that much of a leap from nudity. It was little more than latex underwear, thinner than paper and slightly wider than spaghetti. Her thong left nothing hidden, and the cups of her bra offered emotional support primarily for her nipples. She slipped on her stiletto heels and checked her outfit in the mirror next to the door, fixing anything that looked off or loose. The little horns that poked out of her hair was the crowning piece, driving home who she was more than the rest of her outfit. Proud of outdoing herself, she sauntered to the transporter room. The transporter was on the far wall of the small room. It looked like an upright stone sarcophagus, eight feet tall and three feet wide. The inside of the transporter was pitch black, regardless of how bright the room was.

    Alba walked up to the transporter, "So, how does this thing work again? Do I just..." Alba wandered inside the sarcophagus and was immediately enveloped in darkness. "Huh. That's how."

    The darkness dissipated like smoke as Alba found herself, to her surprise, in an unfurnished concrete basement.

    "Alright Sylvia, let's get to work."

    "Holy shit, it actually worked!"

    "What?" Alba turned around to see some chick in a black cloak kneeling on the ground behind her. "Oh, don't tell me..." She looked down at her feet to see, just as she feared, a pentagram drawn on the floor. "You're not Sylvia, are you?"

    The cloaked woman stood up, "Sylvia? Who's that?"

    Alba crossed her arms, "The person I was supposed to see. But, apparently someone hijacked the signal."

    The woman took off her hood, "Hijacked the signal? I summoned you!" The woman's black hair was long, as if she were still wearing a hood. "And since I summoned you, you have to obey me."

    Alba laughed, "Oh really?" With the flick of a finger, the woman was suddenly lifted off the ground. "I have to obey you?"

    "Y-yeah, that's w-what the rules say." She sputtered.

    Alba flicked her finger again, "Yeah, I don't think so." The woman was suddenly thrown to the ceiling back first.

    "Uh, a-as your m-master I command you t-to stop."

    Alba dropped her hand, but the woman stayed glued to the ceiling. "How adorable." Alba gently lifted off the ground and floated up to the woman, laying back as if she were on a sofa. "What's your name, honey?"

    "Hilda! My name's Hilda!"

    "And how did a dumb broad like you conjure up the expertise to create a functioning pentagram?"

    "I'm a witch, okay?"

    "Thanks, hun. I'm Alba, by the way. Nice to meet you." Alba snapped her fingers and caught the cell phone that materialized above her hand. She quickly dialed a phone number and put the phone on speaker.

    "Hey, Leta. How are things going?"

    "Slower than ever." The phone said. "Hey, I get you're new to this, but you know you're not supposed to call while with a client, right?"

    "Yeah, about that," Alba glared at Hilda, stuck to the ceiling, " I'm not with my client right now. Someone managed to hijack the signal and I got sent some bitch's basement."

    "Oh really?" The phone laughed.

    "Yeah. Tell me, do you have any information on a witch by the name of Hilda?"

    Hilda went wide eyed, "What are you doing?"

    "Ssh! the adults are talking, sweetie."

    "Lemme see here..." The phone muttered. "Got it. Caucasian, black hair, purple eyes?"

    Alba scanned Hilda's face, "That's the one."

    "Says here that she's in her early twenties, and been a witch for around four years come November. Brews potions, but -you're going to love this- she has almost no magical ability."

    "Good, good. Do you, by any chance, have access to any personal information?"

    Hilda gulped. "Is it too late to renegotiate this?

    "Oh boy. Go easy on the broad, okay?"

    "No promises."

    "Well, okay. What do you want? I have fears, repressed memories, secrets, and fetishes."

    "I don't know, it all sounds so delightful," Alba sang, "Maybe I'll go for irony. What does Hilda like to do?"

    "Says here that she spends a lot of her time terrorizing the populace. Turning people into animals, love potions, mostly temporary transformation stuff. Pranks, really."

    "Any of that connected to her fetishes?"

    Hilda wildly shook her head. "Oh no, no no no no no no!"

    "Oh, you better believe it is."

    Hilda grimaced, "Oh no."

    "This is going to be fun."

    "I envy you, believe me. Her fetishes are..."

    Hilda face blushed red as a tomato.

    "Wow, they are certainly something." The phone chortled, "Inflation, animal transformation, a touch of sadism to boot, -aw gross!- wedgies!"

    "What?" Hilda yelled, "I do not have a wedgie fetish!"

    "Surprise, you do now!" Alba snapped, seriously considering a quick field test on Hilda's undergarments.

    The phone continued, "She's got bondage, too. And anthropomorphic animals."

    "So, what she's a furry?"

    Hilda's face turned red. "I am not a furry!"

    "Not technically." "The phone interrupted. "Not all furries are into the pornographic part, it's more of a stylistic preference in art than purely sexual. Ask her if she's into yiffing."

    "I am not into yiffing!"

    "Well, if you're not a furry how come you know what it is? Checkmate, bitch!"

    The phone sighed, "Look, I gotta get back to work or I'll get fired. Take it easy, okay?"

    "Yeah, sure. See you later." Alba hung up and the phone evaporated in her hand. "That's quite a list, eh Hilda?" She gently lowered Hilda from the ceiling, rotating her frozen body upright.

    "Hey, Alba, come on! Can't we work out something, a partnership or-"

    "Shut up! I'm not in the mood for this, okay? Okay." Alba took a deep breath and recomposed herself, "I just love how this comes full circle. You know, before my transit was so rudely hijacked I was on my way to an inflation fetishist."

    Hilda gulped.

    "And as it turns out, you're also one of those freaks. My luck!"

    "Um, before you-"

    "Oh, there's no 'before' anything. If I'm going to have to deal with you weirdos as much as I think, I better get some practice in. I mean, I am pretty rusty with my alteration magic." Alba sank to the floor and gracefully landed on her feet.

    "Wait! Just hear me out-"

    Alba laughed and snapped her fingers, Hilda plummeted to the floor like a rock, landing ass first on the cement floor.

    "Practice makes perfect, don't you agree?" Alba laughed again, trying really hard to sound menacing this time.

    A red aura -an effect whose only purpose was to make magic look cooler- manifested around her hand as she dramatically pointed her palm at Hilda. The red orb flew off her hand and smacked into the witch's stomach, exploding on impact like a balloon.

    "Ow! What the fuck?" Hilda dragged herself to her feet and wrapped her arms around where she had been hit. She grumbled, "What did you do?"

    "I just turned your body into a conduit for magic! Unless you figure out a way to release it, it's going to build up until you explode!" Alba said through a Cheshire grin. "Good luck!"

    "What?! Oh, God really?" Hilda looked at her stomach and back at the succubus.

    "Nope! You're just going to fill up with air for as long as I want. Although, " She mumbled, "I bet there actually is a way to turn you into a conduit!"

    "What?!"

    "Exciting, right?"

    Hilda doubled over and groaned, "Why does my stomach feel so tight?"

    "Really? Do you really need an answer?"

    Hilda's blood ran cold. Her stomach began pushing her arms back. "Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

    Alba snapped her fingers and a nail file materialized in her hand. "Quit whining. It gets faster, so enjoy it while it lasts." She sat in the air as if she were in a chair.

    "What do mean it gets-" Suddenly, Hilda's whole body exploded outwards, rapidly filling with air.

    "Fuck! My cloak!"

    Her swelling belly and breasts, already larger than a pregnancy, pushed against her poor cloak. It tightened around her body like shrink-wrapping, stitches faltering and snapping.

    "This thing was so expensive!" She moaned.

    Her butt, puffing up like a pair of beach balls, poked out from underneath her cloak. Her black panties wedged themselves deep inside her backside.

    "Oh, why is it so tight?!" Hilda whined, pulling desperately at her cloak. Her huge body quickly began to round out into a more balloon-like shape. "My ass!"

    Hilda clawed at her behind, trying desperately to undo the wedgie that lay farther outside her reach with every attempt. As her butt assimilated into her body, the waistline of her panties slipped lower and lower, only being held on by her devastating wedgie. Her cloak clung on until her back filled out as much as her front, and slipped upward to her still enormous breasts. Her arms and legs simply vanished into her body.

    Alba looked up from her nails and nodded in approval. "I'm surprised you're still clothed." The file vanished from her hand. "It should be stopping right about now."

    Hilda's body suddenly ceased growing. She was speechless. Her once beautifully sculpted figure was gone. Her double D breasts- gone. her curvaceous butt that she brewed so many potions to make permanent- gone! Her flat, toned stomach- more than gone! She was a god damned bubble, now! She couldn't walk, pick anything up, or even look around. She could barely breath, let alone talk, had no idea how she was going to eat, or -now that she came to think of it- even go to the bathroom. Her body creaked and groaned with every breath she took, and it was so tight! So unbelievably tight! So incredibly, ridiculously, insanely tight every inch of her body! She felt like she was on the rack while being force fed a Thanksgiving dinner on a bed of nails, for fuck's sake!

    Alba casually leaned on the side of the witch's body, causing a mass of terrifying creaks. "See? Told you it was fast."

    "Fu- Fuck... You."

    "What was that? I can barely hear you. Maybe you should speak up a bit more."

    Alba ran her dagger-like fingernails down Hilda's body, stopping at the strained waistline of her panties. It was a miracle that it was still on, even as it dug into her flesh by several inches.

    "Let me help you out a bit. A favor between you- " She tugged at the waist with her fingernail, " -and me."

    Her fingernail sliced through the fabric and Hilda's panties snapped off. Her body jumped outwards like a gunshot. Hilda shrieked, but was relieved to find that she was still in one piece. The underwear, however, still remained wedged in her behind. She did feel better, though.

    "Now that I think about it, even the wedgie isn't so- No! I am not going to finish that sentence!" Hilda thought. She still couldn't deny that odd feeling that she was so familiar with.

    "I'd love to stay around and watch you get yourself out of this, but I've got to get back to the office. Have fun!" Before Hilda could protest, Alba kicked Hilda like a soccer ball, sending her careening around the room. By the time Hilda's world stopped spinning around, she realized two things; Alba was gone, and she was left staring at a three day old coffee stain on the floor.

    Hilda sighed, causing her body to creak. "I wish she just popped me." She thought. "At least then I wouldn't be stuck like this. What's going to happen now? I can't move, I can barely talk, I can't eat or drink, I'll starve to death!" Hilda drummed her fingers on the surface of her skin. "I'm going to get back at her for this."

    Still immobile, Hilda spent the next few hours plotting all her revenge schemes that she would never be able to do. Still, though, the thought was nice. Imagining that succubus in a cauldron of boiling Holy Water, surrounded by crucifixes, slowly nursed Hilda to an uncomfortable, restless, downright terrible sleep.

    "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!"

    Hilda woke up with a start, irritated that her wonderful dream of torturing Alba was interrupted by- "Wait, " She thought, "I know that voice!"

    Her world suddenly got shaken as she felt her body being rolled upright, and the blood pooled in her head drained to the rest of her enormous body. Her view slowly came to rest on the succubus herself, dressed in some sort of business attire.

    "Good morning sleepyhead!" Alba chirped.

    "What... Do you... Want?"

    "Me? I didn't come here because I wanted anything from you. I came here to have a quick chat, you know? See how life's going for you now that you're a balloon, and discuss oh I don't know, how you got me fired!" Alba kicked Hilda hard in the stomach, sending her flying across the room.

    "Fuck- king... Bitch!" Hilda yelled, closing her eyes to avoid getting sick.

    After smacking into the wall and bouncing back, Alba calmly caught Hilda and put her down. "I'm not too happy about that."

    "Wha-"

    "Ah, ah ah! Before you say 'What do you want me to do about it' over the course of a week, there's nothing you can do about it. This stuff is final in Hell. You screw up once, you get blacklisted. You get blacklisted, you're fucked."

    "Sor-"

    "Sorry to hear that, yeah yeah. Well, since I'm not welcome in Hell anymore because of you and I don't feel like house hunting in the Underworld or Tartarus..."

    "I don't like where this is going." Hilda thought.

    "Guess who has a new roommate!"

    "Fuck... No."

    "Come on, roomy! It'll be fun! We can have threesomes together, you can sleep on the couch, we can screw with the mortals, it'll be great! Besides," Alba leaned on Hilda, "You don't have much of a choice."

    Hilda thought it over, "At least... Defla-"

    Alba scoffed, "Deflate you? It wears off after twenty four hours anyway. You'll be fine! You know what? I'll get unpacking." Alba snapped her fingers, and a pile of five suitcases materialized behind her.

    "I'm going to regret this." Hilda thought. "I just know it."