Chapter 2

“You sleeping any better?” Rob asked.

“Sure am,” Jackie said, shooting him a grin. He raised one eyebrow, and she realized that it must have come across as more flirtatious than she’d intended.

“So the pills are working?”

Jackie hesitated. She had been using his pills, but admitting that to him felt like a bad idea. A few nights ago, she wouldn’t have had the mental energy to come up with a lie, but the new, well-rested Jackie had an answer in no time.

“Nope!” she said brightly. “Thanks though, but I’ve been drinking some herbal tea. That stuff is amazing!”

“It sure is,” he replied, and turned to serve a customer - one of the cowboys who had featured so prominently in Jackie’s dream the previous night.

At around eleven, things started to slow down, and Jackie found herself in another conversation with Rob.

“Doesn’t it ever bother you?” he asked with a drawl, and the young woman shot him a questioning look.

“What?”

“Being so flat-chested.”

Jackie drew breath sharply. She didn’t know whether to slap him or blush. A part of her was tempted to say “You didn’t seem to mind the other night!”, but she knew that she would sound crazy. Of course he hadn’t minded in her dream - he’d been her dream version of him. A totally different creature from the rude, leering, downright cruel version standing in front of her now.

Well, actually, he’d acted much the same in her dream. But in her dream, for whatever reason, Jackie had actually enjoyed it when he treated her like shit.

But that was a conversation for a later time. Probably with a therapist.

Instead, she just glared at him and turned back to the bar.

Rob’s comments must have really bothered her, because that night in her dream, she was still thinking about them.

And him.

She dreamed of getting up, just a few minutes after taking her pill and going to sleep, and walking over to the door to find him there with a smile on his face.

It was just as much of a leer as it had been in real life, but while asleep that didn’t bother her - she loved it. She loved the way he looked at her body, only occasionally glancing at her face (she had answered the door naked, of course). She loved the way that he roughly threw her against the wall and began having his way with her.

And when he pulled a strange ointment out of his pocket and began rubbing it on her chest, she loved the cruel insults that he whispered in her ear.

“That’s right, tiny-tits. We’re going to grow you some boobs. You ready to be my big-titted little slut? Yeah you are.”

In response, she’d just nodded and moaned (she never spoke in her dreams, not unless a guy obviously wanted a response) and watched, fascinated, as her tits began to slowly balloon out.

They’d started as a small B-cup. Not nothing, but certainly not huge. Not as large as Rob would have liked, that much was clear.

As she watched, they grew - Jackie didn’t know a whole bunch about cup-sizes larger than her own, but she guessed that they ended up as a large C, possibly even a D.

“There we go,” Rob said with an evil grin. “Now the guys will have something to hold onto.”

Jackie missed classes the next morning.

As soon as she woke up, she knew something was wrong. There was a weight on her chest that hadn’t been there before - not a metaphorical one, she could literally feel an unfamiliar weight.

The second she’d seen her new tits, she’d started screaming.

It’s all real, she’d thought to herself in a panic. It’s all real! How is this happening to me? It hadn’t taken her long to come up with a theory.

The pills. She’d immediately run into the bathroom and flushed the pills Rob had given her down the toilet. Then she’d spent almost forty minutes poking and prodding at her new tits, during which she’d learned: a) They were definitely, definitely real, and b) They were extremely sensitive.

After the fourth time she’d tugged on her nipples desperately trying to prove that they were a figment of her imagination, or some kind of prosthetic, or anything that wasn’t a real pair of tits sitting on the front of her chest, she’d been unable to hold back a moan.

In her dream, every time Rob had even brushed a hand against her tits, she’d almost cum. Jackie had hoped that this was just a part of the fantasy, or the dream state, or whatever one could call it ... but it seemed to be true in real life as well.

Damn it, she’d thought, stumbling back towards the bed. I am not going to be able to concentrate until this is taken care of... Two quick orgasms later, Jackie was much more clear-headed. She carefully got dressed, making sure not to stimulate her ultra-sensitive tits any more than she had to. None of her bras fit, of course, and the only tops that she could get to close were an unattractive hoodie and a white button-up shirt.

She wore them both.

“Miss Night, I’m not sure what you want me to tell you,” the doctor said, looking at her quizzically.

“I want you to explain how I got to be like this,” Jackie said through gritted teeth, gesturing at her newly-protruding chest.

It never used to protrude.

“It’s perfectly natural,” he said, trying to maintain eye-contact. “All women go through growth spurts - it seems that yours has just happened later in life.”

“Overnight?”

“Mmmm,” he said noncommittally. “No, but - if I’m being honest - it’s much more likely that this has been happening over several weeks, and you only noticed it today.”

“And the dreams?”

“I’m not a psychiatrist,” the older man said, finally failing at his attempts, and talking directly to her boobs. “But I would guess that you subconsciously noticed what was happening, and have been processing it while unconscious.”

“And ... the pills?”

“Based on your description, they sound like normal sleeping pills. I can’t speak for your dreams, but I can assure you that I don’t know of any pills that can ... what did you say they do? Control what you dream?”

“Yes,” Jackie muttered, defeated. She felt so stupid - everything that the doctor had said made total sense. She’d made a fool out of herself ... and, worst of all, she’d flushed those great sleeping pills down the toilet.