Lana Roberts extended her right hand towards the factory owner, a smile plastered wide on her face. Inwardly, she seethed. There were rumors swirling about Wonka Industries, and how its factories tended to have abnormally high disappearance rates. Lana intended to stir up said rumors, starting viral storm that would no doubt lead to the closing of this factory.
It wasn’t much, but she felt it was the least she could do for her sister’s family-owned candy shop. Wonka Industries had put it out of business in a week, thanks to the charismatic and cutthroat leadership of one Morgan ‘Wonka’. All managers took on their patron’s surname, a trend started by Charles ‘Wonka’ Bucket all those years ago.
“Ms. Wonka, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you.” Lana’s words were sweet as sugar, a trick she’d learned after her dozenth interview with another holier-than-thou politician.
“Please, that’s my boss’s name. Call me Morgan.” The woman laughed. “I understand that you’re not a fan of our company, and that’s exactly why I’ve brought you hear today. We’re going to bury the hatchet, as it were.”
Morgan shook her head, and Lana had a brief moment of surprise. The woman’s palm was warm, her shake firm but not crushing. If Lana knew better, she’d have assumed she was touching another human being, rather than some corporate mouthpiece.
“Bit of a violent metaphor.” Lana spoke without thinking, and cursed herself inwardly. She hadn’t meant to second guess her host.
Luckily, Morgan took it in stride. She nodded, the purple hat atop her head bobbing with the motion. “Well, I don’t see any axes around, so I don’t think you’ve much to worry about. Please, come with me.” She extended a hand towards the factory, turning expertly on her heel.
There was an almost martial quality to the woman, in spite of her affability. A stiffness to her shoulder matched her brisk pace, every footstep precisely measured. Somehow Morgan kept a lackadaisical expression on her features, as though her parade ground step was just how she happened to move. Maybe it was.
“Rather the quiet interview, don’t you think?” Morgan tilted her head back, that easygoing grin so damnably charming. If she kept this up, Lana might end up liking her.
“Right, sorry. I’m not used to my hosts being so cheerful.” Lana smiled, interjecting a bit of honesty into her words. That was how to really sell an act: every lie had to have some truth mixed in. “Normally they’re stuffy politicians, or management that’s spent too long at the top. I guess you could say they forget how to be human.”
“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want that, would we?” Morgan laughed, and it seemed to be genuine. Apparently she’d found something funny about that last sentence. Lana made a mental note of that. She had no idea where it would belong in her piece, but she was sure it could fit somewhere. Any eccentricities would.
An hour later, Lana had realized that the woman was made of nothing but eccentricities. Morgan spoke to machines as though they were her children, and the way she laughed during their impromptu boat ride… Lana suppressed a shudder, along with memories of the images she’d seen in the tunnel. There was just so much blue…
“So, this factory was modeled after the original?” Lana asked at length.
“Of course! Each and every one has their differences, but we like to keep some things in common. You’re asking about the boat, aren’t you? I know the Wonkatania XI isn’t for everyone, but she and her sisters happen to be a necessary part of our creation process.”
“Oh?” Lana blinked in surprise, genuinely intrigued by that. “How could that possibly be a staple of your workplace?”
“Rowing and rowing, no way of knowing where you’re going…” Morgan hummed, her blue eyes lost for a moment. She blinked them a few times, as though dispelling a vision. “The state of mind the tunnel can create is rather excellent for scattering one’s thoughts.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“It helps, when you’re fixated on something. Have you ever felt that? Being so consumed by an idea or an urge that you let it drive you? It’s hardly a state a confectioner should be in.”
Lana didn’t respond at first, thinking about her own driving urge. Morgan’s words were a tad close to home, enough to warrant a mote of concern. “I wouldn’t know.” She risked, looking about the room she’d found herself in. It was plain, with white walls and floor that was dyed an abstract shape of blue. A cross between a massive flat-screen television and an old box television sat at one end of the room, and the other end held a contraption of sorts, one that looked like a prop from a science fiction film.
Morgan saw her staring, and the woman smiled widely. “This is another of those shared rooms. I’m told that most of my associates don’t utilize this, but… Well, I like to think it’s essential to my own work.” She outright purred.
“I honestly can’t see how.” Lana looked to the contraption in particular, and tilted her head. “I suppose you could see production reports from that television, but that’s that thing in the corner meant to be?”
“We’ll get to that. But first...” Morgan trailed off, and Lana knew the woman was trying to build a little anticipation. Worse, the reporter was buying into it a little. There was something about Morgan’s personality that was almost infectious. “First, let me show you a little video why you’re here.”
A remote appeared in her hand like magic, and she clicked the ‘play’ button with a wide grin. Wonka’s logo appeared on the screen, and a catchy jingle seemed to echo through the room. Then its prerecorded contents began, and the women found themselves in a different world.
It was a world of pure imagination, and one that was so divorced from reality that Lana though it had to be fiction. She watched as a woman slipped her arm from her husband’s, gratefully accepting a bright stick of gum. She watched as that woman began to ink over, a shade of royal blue marring her delicate features. Then… She watched her expand.
Lana hadn’t felt this way for as long as she could remember. She knew that she’d gotten turned on from playing on yoga balls as a kid, but she’d never given too much insight into that. Her knees were weak; her world was spinning. She knew her cheeks were warm, but didn’t do anything to conceal her blush for fear that she’d miss a second of the wonderful scene playing out before herself.
Then the scene changed, to a redhead with a surprised expression as her pixie cut darkened to violet. This one grew even faster, even larger, and even rounder. There was audio to this change, but the words all blurred together in Lana’s head. The only thing she cared about was that juicy sloshing in the background, and how loudly the former redhead moaned.
Why was she feeling like this? Lana tried to tell herself that she was watching something taboo; something fetishistic. She failed as another rush of warmth flooded her veins, her mind imagining that the warmth was caused by an onrush of blue juice. It was a novel idea, and all the more damning for it.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t all too novel. She’d had dreams ever since she was a young woman, dreams that she could never fully remember. They were tinged with blue, and never had made much sense… Until this very moment.
The scene changed again, Lana’s eyes as round as the blueberry on screen. Sure, it didn’t look like a blueberry: it looked like cross between balloon and woman. But that didn’t matter to Lana. She knew in her heart that she was looking at a blueberry, one that was ripe and ready for squeezing.
Lana breathed slowly, in and out. She could feel the air entering her diaphragm, and for a hideous moment she imagined it staying there, puffing her up, bloating her. Then the television changed once more, and she came face-to-face with a woman drooling blue.
“It’s not air… It’s juice…” Lana let the air blow out, both disappointed that her fantasy of inflation couldn’t match what she was seeing… And exhilarated that the truth was even more fantastic.
“Hm?” Morgan. Lana had forgotten she was there. The reporter struggled for something to say, anything to say. Then the woman laughed coquettishly. “Don’t stop now. We’re just about to get to the good part.”
Lana leaned in closer, watching for the next transformation. But the scene wasn’t one of transformation. This was security camera footage of tour groups entering Wonka’s factory. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to understand why this could possibly matter, then she started to recognize faces.
It was real. These women had become berries, it wasn’t some trick of editing. Well, maybe it still was, but that didn’t change the hope this footage had given her. She might end up like these women had…
No sooner had the thought entered her head than the scene changed to a reflection of her own face. It was her as she’d looked just this morning, when she’d been waiting for the factory’s gates to open. She remembered the irritation and felt foolish for it now. Had she known she’d find this new fantasy, surely the reporter would have been as giddy as a child before their birthday.
One last transition filtered into the frame, and Lana knew it was the last from what it was. A round, blue sphere slowly faded in over her face. It was a common blueberry, but that wasn’t what mattered to her. She cared about what it stood for.
“And finito. There you have it.” Morgan clapped her hands again, and the television switched off.
The sight of that succulent sapphire was ingrained on Lana’s brain, and she struggled to cope with the new thoughts, the new fantasies going through her mind. She had thought she’d known everything about herself, but this… This was a new facet, one that was ironically round, soft, and sloshy.
“And there you have it.” Morgan repeated herself, rocking back and forth on her heels. It was like she was talking loudly and moving just to stir Lana from her dazed state. “My little secret’s out for the whole world to see.”
“W-why would you show me this?” Lana struggled for words. She looked to the woman beside her, then to the blank television. Then she returned her gaze to the factory owner, her head swimming. “I mean… I’m a reporter.”
“Indeed you are. And you’re one who’s looking to do a real hatchet job on my dear, sweet factory.”
Lana stiffened. “You knew? But… Why, then? Why would you give me everything I needed to shut this place down; to run you out?” She tried to fixate on vengeance, that lovely motivator that had brought her through these doors.
The confectioner snapped to attention with a wide grin, her heels audibly clicking as they met one another. She reached into her purple suit and pulled out a small wrapped piece of candy, one that was undeniably, unbearably familiar. “Because… It might have been everything you needed in the past. But we both know it’s not everything you need now, is it?”
Lana stared for a second before she realized she was drooling. A flush spread across her features, and she wiped at the back of her mouth. “No.” It sounded weak even to her ears, the mewl of a kitten pitted against a tigress.
“Ah-ah. No lying.” Morgan flicked out a hand, tapping Lana’s nose. “We study every berry that walks into these halls. Would you like to know the secret?”
Lana wasn’t really listening. Her eyes were fixated on that candy wrapper, and Morgan wasn’t helping things like weaving it about like a conductor. She absently nodded, gaze tracking the treat. “Sure, that’d be great.”
“Oh, it’s such a juicy scoop. So sorry you won’t be able to write it.” Morgan closed her hand around the stick of gum, and Lana jerked back. Losing sight of the candy was like a slap to the face, and her cheeks colored appropriately. It was clear in a second that Lana didn’t have anything to say to that, and Morgan chuckled.
“You see… It’s not in the gum. That’s where the catalyst is, but the real driving force is in the woman. The shorter and smarter someone is, the larger and juicier they’ll become. It’s more than just a simple shift in form, it’s a total transformation. One stick of gum, and you’ll never even consider humanity again, not even in your wildest dreams.”
Then, Morgan opened her hand, revealing the stick of gum once more. She held it out with a sly grin. “No bull. Just tomato soup, roast beef, and a dessert you’ll never forget.”
The gum reappeared in Lana’s hands, and it took her a moment to realize that she’d reached out and grabbed it. Her mind was so hazy, it was like life had become a dream. Concepts like revenge, logic, and even self-preservation were rolled out the window in favor of this new, delectable treat.
She stared at the gum even as her hands unwrapped it. Her body was a vessel, and her newfound fantasy had just taken the wheel. “This is… It’s going to… Me…” Lana didn’t have words for it. But she had actions, and one of those actions was to lift the stick up to her lips.
“It’s going to bloomph you, dear.” Morgan filled in the blanks, an impish, knowing grin on her face.
For a moment, Lana remembered why she’d come here. She remembered that the factory owner was an arrogant bitch, and that this—all of this—was setting her up for a fall. Then the reporter imagined what would come after the fall, her body bouncing and rolling and gushing and—
Her mouth worked furiously on the gum, eager to skip through the courses as quickly as possible. First was that delectable soup, so hot and creamy. Its salt tingled her tongue, an impossible sensation that Lana chalked up to magic. To her addled brain, there was no real way this could be possible otherwise.
Then came the roast beef and mashed potatoes. It was a delectable course, even though her teeth never met the meat her taste buds were sampling. Her brain struggled to reconcile this war between flavor and texture, but it didn’t keep her from chewing, chewing.
“Last chance to spit it out.” Morgan cooed. “But if I were you… I really wouldn’t.”
Lana couldn’t even consider spitting the gum out at this point, even as that rich blueberry flavor filled her mouth. She groaned, not sure of what to expect but secure in the fact that she anticipated it. She could taste every berry, every spoonful of cream, every drop of…
“Juice.”
Lana’s eyes opened, and she turned to look at the factory owner. “Beg your pardon?”
“You’ll be begging for more than that, soon.” Morgan stepped in close, lifting her head a little and inhaling sharply. It took Lana a moment to realize the woman was sniffing her scent, as though she could pick up that blueberry flavor. “Hm… Very soon. Because you’ll start to blow up, and not with air. It’ll be with juice.”
That word again, ‘juice’. Somehow just thinking about it made Lana tingle, and she fidgeted in place. Why was she like this? Why was she literally trembling with anticipation? The reporter didn’t have answers like this, and she didn’t think that any were coming.
“Aw, that’s cute. You’re blushing.” Morgan trailed her fingers along Lana’s burning cheek, and the reporter leaned against her, as If to savor more of her warmth.
“W-what color…” Lana gulped down a mouthful of blueberry-flavored drool, her eyes looking up to meet Morgan’s. The factory owner only smirked, as though she was delighted to be asked that very question. When she realized no answer was coming, Lana struggled to clarify. “What color am I blushing?”
It was embarrassing to ask, like she was admitting this newfound fantasy to the woman who’d instilled it. In spite of how silly she could act, that militant stiffness Morgan had embodied earlier had left an impression on Lana. She could see why people looked up to Morgan as a factory owner, just from how easily she’d played Lana into admitting she wanted to blush a color other than pink.
“Blue.” Morgan cooed, bringing her head close to Lana’s. Lana could feel the woman’s breath close on her cheek. “You’re blushing so berry blue.”
“Y-you mean ‘very’ blue?”
“I know what I said.” Morgan pulled her head back, a wide grin on her face like the cat who’d just caught the canary. Surprisingly, Lana didn’t feel trapped. She felt freer than she had in years, finally having come to terms with herself.
Lana let out a sound that was both a moan and a thanks in the same breath, cupping her hands against her cheeks. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of warmth that was spreading its way across her cheeks to the rest of her face, then down her collar. It passed along her breasts and hips before finally moving down her legs, and only then did she allow herself the relief of opening her eyes.
She had been afraid to, worried that when she opened her eyes she’d see the same tanned skin as always. To her relief and delight alike; however, she was blue as the ocean on a clear day. For a few moments, she didn’t speak—how could she? Her wildest dreams and newest fantasy had come true at the same time.
“You’re welcome. And, just so you know, it’s only going to get so much better.” Morgan chuckled at the woman, watching as she curled and uncurled her fingers. “Just wait ‘til you see what you’re doing now.”
Lana didn’t need to see. She could feel it, a bubbling warmth swelling from within herself. She’d seen those women inflating, but didn’t have any idea why they all looked like they enjoyed swelling so much… At least she didn’t know why until this very moment.
“Holy-” She gasped, unable to complete the thought. Pleasure, sweet and simple pleasure was engorging her body. It started with her belly, but soon grew to be much, much more than that. It wasn’t like she was gaining weight: there was no drooping fat, no pear shape. Rather, this was a redefinition of her body, something that was turning her hourglass figure into a globe.
The reporter trembled, her analytical mind latching onto every high note and storing it forever. She moaned another unintelligible cry, rocking back and forth in place like she was some sort of pleasured pendulum. Every sensation was bliss, even the cool air on her blue skin spoke of delights untold.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Morgan cooed. Lana turned her head, but couldn’t quite manage to see the factory owner in her peripheral vision. That said, she didn’t need to see the woman, given that she felt her a second later. Morgan’s palm clapped against the curve of Lana’s round back, upsetting her balance.
Lana’s body ballooned out in response to that, forcing her arms to her sides and spreading her legs. Soft, pulpy fruit swallowed her limbs greedily, leaving her unable to compensate for her loss of balance. The woman fell onto her belly with a huff, bouncing gently. She didn’t roll though; the juice within her was enough to counterbalance her motion, sloshing inside herself and balancing her blimped body.
Somehow being treated like the berry she was becoming only heightened her delight. Lana moaned all the louder, unable to beg for more but so desperate for it. Her hands flapped at her sides, her feet kicked. It was all her body was capable of doing, yet even that was enough to slightly bounce her body and send a haze of blue across her vision.
“Oh, my… It seems I’ve really awakened something in you.” Morgan walked before Lana, and the reporter blinked in shock as she realized she was looking down at the woman.
When did she grow this large? How had she not noticed her clothing stretched so taut on her body? Why was she enjoying this newfound size?
Questions, so many questions filled her mind. She heard seams on her clothing split, but that seemed like a faint whisper compared to the pounding of her heart. She was big, she was round… She was a berry, a blue ball meant to be bounced and rolled and juiced for all she was worth. Finally, she settled on a question, knowing it might well be the last intelligible thing she’d say.
“Berry?” It was meant to sound smarter than that, more confident. Instead, it came out as a needy plea, like she was pleading to a goddess. To her eternal delight, the goddess smiled, nodding.
“The roundest, juiciest berry.” Morgan strutted towards the raygun apparatus, humming a quiet tune to herself. “So round and juicy, that you’re going to need to be brought down to size.” The woman spoke with an assured confidence, and though Lana didn’t know what she was talking about she still nodded.
“Berry!” She was humiliated by how her vocabulary had deserted her, but somehow those wonderful five letters captured every possible feeling she could have. She let out a muffled groan as her body swelled around her face, squeezing against her cheeks and forcing her jaw into a plump pout.
“As you wish.” Morgan laughed from across the room. A loud mechanical whirring seemed to fill the air, and Lana had enough time to feel a new tingling across her body.
Then…
She didn’t have words for it, really. It was like entering a bath with a billion bath bombs at once, except she was the bath bombs. She could feel herself fizzing warmly away, evaporating into millions of tiny, delighted, bouncy particles. It was like a massage at a cellular level, and she let out a gasp before her body disintegrated.
Every bit of Lana could still feel, fluttering around the room, rebounding against her other molecules. She was awash in sensation, an unending light and airy bliss encompassing her every nerve. Time passed, but she had no way of telling. It could have been anywhere from seconds to eons. To Lana, it was an eternity of delighted sensation.
Slowly, something began to tug at her. She imagined it as being a vacuum—no, a straw, and one that was sucking up all of her blueberry juice. She flowed into whatever was pulling her, puddling and pooling together. Her scattered molecules slowly coalesced into a solid, and she found herself blinking the light from her eyes.
She was back in the same room as before, but she was in a different place. Her tattered clothing marked where she’d been before, along with an embarrassingly large blue puddle. Now… Now Lana was across from the contraption, though her position seemed impossible. If she looking at it from this angle, she had to be within the television.
Morgan grinned as though she’d scored a winning goal, marching towards Lana. As the woman moved, she seemed to grow larger and larger still, until she towered over the berry-girl. In that moment, Lana realized that she was indeed the flat-screen… And that she had shrunk down to the size of a proper berry.
The factory owner didn’t wait to ask for permission, not that Lana was capable of answering. She simply leaned down and picked up Lana’s small body between her thumb and forefinger. Then, she squeezed and squeezed hard.
For a moment, Lana was worried she’d pop. Then she felt the juice inside her responding to this teasing. She couldn’t open her mouth, so the moan that rose from her throat echoed throughout her blue skull. Her hands and feet wiggled as much as they could, then were swallowed up by her body as it swelled, larger and larger.
She grew from a blueberry to a golf ball to a baseball just from that squeezing alone, resting inside Morgan’s warm palm. It felt safe and secure, and perhaps that was why she was so surprised to be tossed into the air.
“You see,” Morgan laughed, catching Lana and swelling her further. “You happen to be quite the perfect specimen. The gum works so much better on petite little things like you, like it’s hungry to correct your diet. And, given your secret little desire… Well, I knew it would make you far too large for this building to contain.”
Lana was only half-listening, too distracted by the rush of being tossed, the weightlessness of free-fall, and the mind-numbing pulpy slosh of being caught. She loved it, loved how she was getting so big Morgan was forced to use two hands to catch and release her in turn. She had to be as large as a beach ball by now, relative to Morgan. Relative to Lana, she was as large as a house—one with two stories and an attic.
There was so much juice, so much wonderful, sweet, gushing juice. Lana was a ball awash with euphoria, and her every inch yearned for more. Her prayers were answered a second later, as Morgan rested her on the ground only to sit atop her.
The motion was so quick, so smooth, that the berry would have sworn the factory owner had practiced it. Maybe she had, and if so Lana owed her a debt she’d never be able to repay. These thoughts were only renewed as Morgan began to bounce atop her, using her like a fruity yoga ball.
Lana’s every thought drowned in a tidal wave of blue, and she became one with her inner berry. Her growth slowed in time with her mind, but that only filled her with even more rushing, sticky happiness. It meant that she was finally complete, finally the roundest, largest she could be. It felt like she was a big as a mountain, even though Morgan could easily sit atop her.
It felt perfect.