[pseudoclever]

So here we have the main event, as promised. And before we get into any backstory, I need to put a warning right up front.

This story is equal parts growing and shrinking content. If you like one of those, hate the other, then I would advise you to skip this story.

Background

This story was influenced by quite a few good size transfer stories out there. penguinboy's excellent story Faerie was NOT one of those, although I enjoyed it - and I mention it here only because I found that one after this story had been completed. There are enough similarities that I worried about being accused of plagiarism. In any case, if you haven't already, you should check out that particular work. Doubt you'll regret it.

And as usual, I'm doing my intentional-unintentional Stephen King ripoff here. Can't help it, sorry.

Tags

GTS/SW - in the mini-gts, and er...what would you call it...macro-sw? There's some BE, some FMG, but those are fairly minor.

Schedule

Updates will be Sunday/Tuesday/Thursday with this particular story. Six chapters, ~11,000 words.

And so, let's get to it.





A Matter of Perspectives

by pseudoclever


When she was lying down, it was much harder to see what was wrong with her. Sandra knew it. And so this was how she spent much of her time, whether it was study, exercise, or just plain old sprawled out on the couch watching television. On this particular day she was lying in bed, curled up with a good book, the dense tome balancing lightly against the flat base of her tummy. Frowning, she stared down one of the more obscure passages, almost seeming to demand of it the information she wanted.

She was beautiful. People had been telling Sandra she was beautiful since middle school, and this was even before the first surge of puberty had turned her into a goddess. A lovely, soft featured face. Curves that were enough to send most other girls into fits of pillow-pounding rage. A healthy, natural tan, the sort people might spend hours in a saloon trying to fake. Yet there was still one thing about her...that one thing she hated.

And if you asked Sandra, it was quite a big deal.

?Sandra? Oy there roomie, you home?? From across the apartment came the rattling of a large set of keys, followed by a heavy door slamming shut. ?Olly olly oxen free, come out come out wherever you are!? A pause. ?I've got something for yoou!? the voice sang.

The girl looked up, setting her book aside. ?Hey! Yeah, I'm in my room. Be right there!? Sandra stood and bounded for the door, two long-legged strides carrying her all the way across the bedroom.

For the third time that day, she forgot to duck. And again for the third time that day, it carried the same consequence ? her forehead smacked against the top frame of the door, hard enough to make her see stars. Sandra cried out in pain. ?Ow! Stupid...fricking...building!? Without thinking about it she punched the wall in frustration, managed to gain a throb in her hand to match the one in her head.

?Sorry, do what?? her roommate answered.

Sandra shook her head, trying to clear it. ?Nothing, I just...ughh! Hey Becca, could you come here so I don't have to yell? Please? It's making my headache worse.?

?No problem there, love.?

An instant later Sandra heard a loud 'pop' from just to her left, and turned in time to see her roommate apparating through the bedroom door. Becca took a moment to settle her hair, running her fingers through her wispy red locks and giving her bangs a little shake. Then she craned her neck up to meet Sandra's gaze, a cheshire cat grin plastered on her elfin face. ?You were saying??

Sandra sighed. ?You know, you could've just WALKED down the hallway.?

?Suppose I could've,? Becca admitted, her smile growing wider. ?But I seem to remember a certain roomie of mine insisting that we DRIVE down to the pub last night, rather than just WALKING the three blocks.? She stopped, staring up at her roommate. ?You okay love? What happened to your face??

?Your stupid apartment is what happened!? Sandra exploded. ?I don't understand why all the damn ceilings in your country have to be so low!?

?Oh Sandra, I'm sorry,? Becca cooed, giving her much-larger friend a sympathetic hug. ?But they don't build flats for people of your...umm...stature. Not in the city anyway, too crowded isn't it??

?I guess I should be used to it by now,? Sandra groaned, still rubbing her forehead. ?Even back stateside I was forever bumping my head on things. Doors, cabinets, low-hanging branches....?

?But surely it's not ALL bad,? replied Becca, pursing her lips thoughtfully. ?Being tall, I mean. Never have to ask for help getting things off high shelves, no trouble standing out in a crowd....?

?Just being 'tall' would be one thing,? Sandra interrupted. ?But Becca, I'm six foot six! For a woman, we're into the range of 'freak' here. I pay a fortune for clothes that barely fit, I've scared off EVERY boyfriend I've ever had....?

?But you're thinking about it all wrong!? Becca growled, clenching her fists and looking at Sandra with startling intensity. ?Six foot six...almost two meters right? That's not freakish, that's AMAZING! And even discounting your height...I mean, look at you!? She gestured up at the enormous girl. ?Gods, I would KILL to look like you!?

Sandra shrugged. ?So I'm attractive. Big deal. I would KILL to be able to do half the things you can, darling. Teleporting, summonings....?

?Sure, sure,? Becca cut her off, waving her hand dismissively. ?But remember, that's nothing special in MY circles. And I'm still an ugly duckling, whether I'm in your world, or mine.?

The taller girl bent, took Becca by the shoulders, looked her dead in the eye. ?Becca, listen to me: you've got NOTHING to be ashamed of in the looks department. You don't NEED to be an amazon, or to have boobs the size of your head. Even if you ARE a bit on the short side, so what? You've got a great little body, one of the cutest faces I've ever seen and...to be honest....? Here Sandra paused, let go of her friend, looked almost sheepish. ?I mean...I've always thought you were...well, pretty damn hot actually.?

?I umm...t-thank you,? Becca managed, cleared her throat. ?But ah, all the same love...you won't convince me that I couldn't stand to be a little taller. And I take it I can't sell you on your OWN virtues? Being a giant sucks??

Sandra nodded immediately.

?So to summarize, you want to lose height, and I want to gain it.? Becca clasped her hands together, feigning a romantic swoon. ?Gosh, wouldn't it be just SMASHING if there were a solution to our mutual little....?

Sandra cut her off. ?Skip the speech. You've got something, don't you?? She put her hands on her hips, looking down at Becca with a predatory gleam in her eye. ?Come clean, witchy-poo.?

Becca grinned. ?Fair. Well okay. I was up late the other night, watching WWSN...that's the Witch's and Wizard's Shopping Network, if you don't know....?

?That's not a real thing. You just made that up.?

?...and something caught my eye. Something that could solve both our problems. And at only nineteen quid sixty, too!? Becca held out her hand and made a short, beckoning gesture. Immediately a small bottle came flying down the hallway. She caught it deftly, and held it out to her oversized friend.

Sandra took it, frowning. ?This is a bottle of 5-Hour Energy.?

Becca threw up her hands in exasperation. ?They have to disguise it to send it through the post, don't they?? She forced herself to calmness. ?This is the answer, love! A breakthrough innovation! All you have to do is take a little sip, and for the next hour you'll be able to transfer some of your height to any other human being. As much, or as little as you want. And if after the hour is over you don't like it, I can take a sip, and give it all right back.?

Sandra studied the bottle, licking her lips thoughtfully. She gave it a little shake, bringing forth a sound like someone ringing a hundred tiny bells. ?And it's safe? It won't give me a third arm, or turn me into a toad or anything??

The petite witch looked back at her friend, and shrugged. ?What's life without a few risks? Even if something DOES go wrong, we can always fix it with the right counter-spell.?

?Right, right,? Sandra mused, scratching her chin as she continued to study the bottle. ?And how much of my height would you want, exactly? I mean, if you were going to choose.?

?Well, that's up to you I suppose. Your money we're playing with, after all. But since you're asking...why don't we split the difference? I'm one-fifty-two....?

?You mean you're five feet even. Remember our agreement? My room is considered American soil ? no metric allowed.? Sandra paused, doing some quick math. ?We're eighteen inches apart...split the difference...we'd both end up at five foot nine.?

?That's sounds wonderful!? Becca crooned. ?You'll still be tall for a woman...and me, I'll practically feel like a giantess! So...yes, then??

Sandra continued to stare seriously at the bottle for a moment, but her decision had already been made. ?I'm in.? She unscrewed the top and, ignoring the chorus of whispering voices coming from inside, raised the bottle to her lips.

?Mmm, pomegranate. My favorite.?