Size Riot’s #HistoricalJuly20 results and my entry, “The Great California Grow Rush”

Good afternoon everyone,

The final results for Size Riot’s #HistoricalJuly20 contest were recently announced on 26 August with Elle Largesse’s “Anne and the King’s Miniaturist” and Aborigen’s “Book IV, Part VII” earning the top honors.

My own humble entry, “The Great California Grow Rush,” placed fourth in the “Which story was the sexiest?” category. Folks also appreciated the bit of humor which was very gratifying. I worried that the joke might fall flat and I would be a stand-up comic “bombing” in front of a silently disapproving audience with sweat beading on my forehead while I pause to audibly gulp in awkward fashion. So, I was happy that my jocular addition was not without merit.

Typically, for these quarterly contests, my entries are posted to the blog once final results are announced. However, our family dog recently hurt himself and we were in a minor panic trying to get him seen by a local veterinarian. It was late in the evening and our veterinarian’s after-hours phone number was frustratingly useless. Eventually, we were able to make an appointment and he was treated. It was determined that he suffered some form of minor spinal injury. Suffice to say, the last few days have not been great, but at least he appears to be getting better.

So, now that our four-legged family member is on the mend, I was able to return my attention to posting The Great California Grow Rush. Of note, I did edit and implement some minor suggestions. (For those interested, the original version can be read here.) Now, without further ado, I present:

The Great California Grow Rush

BLOSSOMING BOSOMS AND LENGTHENING LEGS belonging to lovely ladies changed history forever. The promise of enhancing one’s physical attributes drew attention from across the world. Simple minds considered only the carnal pleasures to be found with such transformations. Those with more imagination saw that transformations also foreshadowed a shift in society. 

After all, if the fairer sex could achieve physical endurance and strength far beyond men, then traditional justifications for restricting women’s rights might prove hollow. The argument that women were weak and needed to be protected could no longer be used to justify their lack of suffrage. The newly discovered Grow Gold altered not only women, but also American democracy when those newly empowered ladies sought an equal voice.

Indeed, Grow Gold changed the entire nation. The unprecedented wealth it generated resulted in the area becoming a state years before its neighboring territories. A railroad spanning the entire continent was built to enable travel for the multitudes wanting to acquire some of the miraculous metal and avail themselves of its magical properties. 

But first, Grow Gold had to be found and raven haired Susan McAllister was the very first to do so. 

The year was 1848 and the day was cool and cloudy. The town was Coloma in northern California, along the banks surrounding the South Fork of the American River. A spot north of Sutter’s Mill was the location.

Susan saw the metallic chips resting on a stream bed near the mill. She had recently been hired to work there as a cook. The previous cook, Jenny, had fallen ill a few days ago. Mr. James Marshall, one of the mill operators, had also taken sick. 

The small metallic flakes were tucked into the side of Susan’s bonnet. “So shiny and bright!” she thought. Susan had not seen much gold. At least, not in its raw form when it comes out of the Earth. 

It could be said that Susan’s breasts were roughly comparable in size to an ordinary, that is to say garden-variety, apple. At least, that was the situation beforehand. 

It was a different story altogether after tucking the metallic chips into her bonnet. The radioactivity thrust in and out in a rhythmic fashion, penetrating with otherworldly energy, impregnating her cells with superhuman potential. Her perky and respectable bosoms increased in size and reached more than merely respectable proportions as honeydew melons would more accurately describe their current dimensions. Susan was oblivious, as her now oversized bosom was completely concealed. She was also five foot six inches when she returned to town, compared to a few hours earlier when she was only five foot five.

I cannot recall my bodice ever feeling so tight. Susan thought. Must be all the excitement, I can’t wait to show this to Paul! Susan and her husband Paul had been working hard to build a new life for themselves. They met and married in Missouri and had only recently moved. Susan’s discovery engendered hope that the couple would have a means to greatly enhance their lives in this new home.  

Susan wanted nothing more than to tell her husband, but she was overdue for a meeting. The subject was a community effort to fund the construction of a new Episcopalian church, the Emmanuel Church. 

She finally arrived at the meeting, only a few minutes late. Her more than just respectable curves were still magnifying. Underneath her demure attire the curves of Susan’s body were accentuating. Yet, Susan was initially oblivious, even as her body strained against the whalebone reinforced dress. 

“Susan.” A gray-haired lady said. The gaunt widow was Blanche Beauregard, originally from a rich family in New Orleans. “Good morning Ms. Beauregard.” Susan said while making her way to an empty spot in the back of the room. 

As Susan sat there, the tightness increased and became near unbearable. Heavens, this is quite uncomfortable! she thought. I must talk to a tailor about letting my dress out. Unbeknownst to the formerly petite beauty, a spot on the side of her dress had pulled apart, exposing pale skin underneath. The noise of its destruction was overheard by Ms.  Beauregard. 

“Susan, you are exposing yourself in an indecent fashion!”

“Ms.  Beauregard, whatever do you mean?”

The widow gestured toward the widening gap.

“Goodness! This is my best dress, I’m afraid I must retire ladies. Please assure the Bishop that I will do my part to erect the new house of worship.” Susan said then rapidly left the room before anyone could respond.

As her body jiggled and shook with her movements, the extra bounce did not go unnoticed. “Good heavens, I never realized that her silhouette was so … robust.” A blonde named Karen noted.

“It’s unseemly for a lady to expose herself, particularly in front of a man of God.” Ms.  Beauregard stood up and moved to follow Susan.

“Ms. Beauregard, surely you recognize that the poor woman never intended that to happen. What’s more, Bishop Morgan did not notice anything.” Karen remarked.

The spinster said nothing, but had a stern countenance when she left.

Meanwhile, Susan was running down the road. Her left arm clutched her bodice trying to conceal the exposed skin. She ran out of the building and into the dusty road. Then the stitches on her gloves tore open. “Not my favorite gloves!”

Suddenly, a sharp pain halted the mad dash home. Susan stopped abruptly outside the town saloon. A horse was tied to a hitching post nearby. 

Susan bent over as the pain racked her body. She moaned and arched her back as the top finally yielded to the shapely form underneath. Buttons flung off her chest and one struck the nearby stallion in his nose. He reared back and whinnied in surprise. 

“Sorry Beaufort!” Susan said. 

Murmurs came from inside the saloon. Susan heard someone shout, “Is that a horse thief?” 

Susan’s face turned red when she imagined strangers investigating the commotion and then gawking at her nudity. 

Susan also heard Ms.  Beauregard calling her name. Tarnation, what does that old bitty want? Can’t she see I got enough problems?

“Mrs. McAllister! We need to discuss your behavior!” Ms.  Beauregard shouted. “I will not tolerate shameful conduct ruining the chances of Emmanuel Church’s construction.”

Susan looked around in a panic and quickly darted across the way to the blacksmith’s barn. Thankfully, no horses were present and Susan would not have to fret about startling another beast of burden. Susan dashed behind a makeshift wall of hay bales sectioning off part of the space. She heard men running outside to check on old Beaufort. 

I can hide here. She thought.

Susan threw the torn shreds of what used to be a dress into the corner, as well as the bonnet which had become uncomfortably constricting. Why is this happening? Then Susan noticed that the shiny metal had fallen to the ground when she tossed the bonnet. The metal still shone, but not as much as it was earlier. Susan squinted, wondering if it was the catalyst. Perhaps that’s not gold after all?

She heard those voices from the saloon coming closer. Susan stayed motionless behind the hay. Those folks should just leave things be. Beaufort is fine, why are they looking for me? Then she recognized one of the voices. Paul? Is that you? Were you in the saloon? She thought, but said nothing. 

Susan pressed her face against the hay, digging slender fingers between two bales to spread them apart and enable a clear view. She saw not only the diminutive brown-haired man that was her husband, but also that their neighbor’s adult son Taylor was with them. Great, Taylor is here too. Then she noticed that her perspective was shifting ever higher. No, no, NO!

Susan found herself looking over the hay bales down upon the men. Don’t make a whisper, don’t even breathe! She told herself. Then Taylor began to kick at a small rock. He was looking around aimlessly. “Can we get back? You fellers still gonna spring for my first beer right?”

“I guess we can go back, but hate the idea that there’s a damn horse thief in town.” Paul replied.

Taylor’s eyes shifted around the room and then he stared at the hay bales for a moment.

Christ Almighty, please don’t let him look up. Susan thought.

But her prayer went unanswered.

Taylor’s eyes raised.

Damn it Taylor.

The inexperienced fellow stammered and pointed.

“Boo-, Boo-, BOOBIES! Giant boobies! Great giant gorgeous boobies!” shouted Taylor. 

Susan admired her figure. Well, he’s not wrong. My chest is fabulous, and they’re bigger than watermelons! She chuckled to herself thinking that she had unwittingly made Taylor’s first peek at a woman a rather impressive event.

“What the hell you yammering about?” said Paul and then he turned to see his giant wife growing in front of him. She waved sheepishly “Hi honey.”

“Hoow… how?!”

“Not now dear. I’m afraid we’re going to owe Jeb some money.”

“Wha… why?”

“Best you get clear.”

Susan’s head pressed against the roof, she placed her palms against the roof and shoved. Weathered, untreated wooden boards snapped and flew off the roof. Susan’s body expanded out of the resulting hole, until her generous bosom rested comfortably on the top. Susan looked around a bit. 

Down the road she could see Taylor running down the road still shouting about boobies. Outside the barn, vigorously wagging her finger at Susan was Ms.  Beauregard. “Young lady, you must have the devil in you! That’s the only possible explanation for this calamity!”

“Go to hell you old hag! I’m tired of putting up with your constant condescension. You ain’t added nothing but misery to this town, only no one had the gumption to say so to your face. Well, I’m saying it now! You get the hell out of here before I squash you like a bug! Go on, get!”

Ms. Beauregard harrumphed, but left the area forthwith. Paul heard the words “Giant boobies!” still being shouted by Taylor, but those cries were now joined by shouts of “She’s the devil!” by Ms.  Beauregard. 

“Are you okay honey?”

“Never felt better.”

“Are you… done? I’m accustomed to being the shorter one in our relationship, but whoa!”

“I think so. At least it feels that way.” Susan looked down, searching for the magical metal. She finally spotted it, its luster had vanished and it shone no longer. 

Back inside the saloon, blacksmith Jeb had helped himself to a free beer when everyone else ran out. Eventually, Jeb decided to mosey on out and see what all the hubbub was about.

Once outside, his jaw dropped. “What in the name of the Good Lord above!?” He stood there slack-jawed.

“Hi Jeb.” Susan waved. “I reckon you should get Betsy, I got something to tell her about.”

“Really?”

She nodded and Jeb took off like the fires of damnation were nipping at his heels. Thus, Betsy would be the second to join Susan as the world’s very first giantesses. In time, as more Grow Gold was discovered, Susan and Betsy were joined by women from every corner of the globe. The country, and humanity, would never be the same again.

P.S. Of course, being a genius metallurgist, I have a perfect understanding of Grow Gold. Furthermore, I compiled a recipe to synthesize the metal using a few household items. The recipe’s first component is sal … NOTE FROM CONTEST ORGANIZER: REMAINING TEXT REMOVED TO PREVENT WORD LIMIT VIOLATION

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