This choice: "Whose behind this?" Bob asked, in a higher voice than he liked. • Go Back...Chapter #4"Whose behind this?" Bob asked. by: Mr. George   "Whose behind this?" Bob asked, in a higher voice than she liked. But she was less worried about her voice, as she spotted where Mr. Incredible's gaze had fallen.
Her own eyes dropped to see the nipples distending her uniform, each rudely, ripely pressing forward demanding attention. In her body, she wasn't used to her elastic abilities. But she focused intently on shrinking her bust back and those aching nips, too.
There was a hard to read look on Helen's face, that she tried not to think about. A new perspective, seeing her body from the outside, and she also thought he was looking just a touch excited too. Bob buried that thought, not sure what to make of it. Partially, because he too was feeling a little confused. Both excited, to see his former body, so muscular, and also so much stronger than her own... at the moment, a thrill of fear tickling her spine, as she imagined herself needing and craving his protection.
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Shaking her head, she felt her chest shrinking. Not the imposing masculine physique she'd so recently controlled. Instead, the soft curves that distracted.
There was clear disappointment on his face, as she restored her body back to the form he loved. The perfect woman, with just the right balance of curves and power.
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Though, as she planted her hands on her hips, she knew exactly why Helen asked those questions. The hips did feel a smidgen too wide, her rear just a touch too full.
The purple light filling the room snapped off, and she looked over to Helen. Just a hint of smugness on his face. He looked rather happier with his new body.
"Have fun..." a voice cackled wildly. It source untraceable, it surrounded them, and filled the room.
"You enjoying this?" she snapped, as scanned the room's ceiling.
Mr. Incredible's face hid the least trace of a smile. "No..." he answered, just a second too slowly.
"He's outside." he offered.
She snatched up a tracker from the compartment hidden in the coffee table.
"Did you recognise that voice?" she asked.
Mr. Incredible was a little slower, but followed his wife's rippling arse, as she darted out to the back garden. The hovering jet's engines whined, as the tone shifted, the vents angling to power it away. She scanned the underside, but couldn't see any logos, or any identifying marks.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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