Remote, Part 1 (Patreon)

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Summary: Rachel has a remote control that can influence the body of Lisa, a high school bully. She can add babies to Lisa's womb, change Lisa's breast-size and their contents, completely alter the weight and shape of Lisa's body, among other, stranger, things.. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, and more.

-

It was finally the end of the day. Rachel Pilgrim had just finished up at her locker. She usually walked around high school with her head down as she hated being the recipient of any attention and tried to be as invisible as possible. Usually this worked out in her favor, but that afternoon Rachel accidentally shoved against Lisa Walker's shoulder as they passed each other in the hallway.

Rachel's books dropped to the floor. She quickly crouched down to gather them up while sneaking a glance up at Lisa. The other girl was sneering.

"S-sorry—" Rachel stammered.

"Phlem, what are you even doing here?" said Lisa tartly. "Shouldn't you be out in the forest with your other woodland friends?"

Rachel blinked up at her in confusion, still on her knees on the ceramic floor. She could see a small crowd of students forming around her, her heart rate speeding up from anxiety.

"Actually, I saw a nice bushel of carrots while I was at the grocery last night with my mom," Lisa went on. "Darn, wish I had grabbed you some." Lisa then raised her fist beside her face as though she was holding an imaginary carrot. She opened and closed her mouth in a chomping motion and what seemed like and impersonation of a cartoon rabbit.

Rachel's face burned as she realized Lisa was making fun of her large front teeth. All of the surrounding students started laughing.

Rachel got up and ran into the nearest girls’ bathroom, managing to hold back her tears just until she closed the door behind her. She locked herself into a stall, sat down, and tried to muffle her sobs in her backpack. She waited what had to be an hour, until the noises of chattering students had completely died away. Then she finally got up, left the bathroom, and dragged herself home.

Rachel couldn't even bring herself to eat. She went straight to her bedroom and dropped against her pillow. Why did Lisa have to make fun of her at every opportunity? And how did one girl manage to make Rachel's high school experience such a living hell?

"She thinks she's so perfect," Rachel mumbled against her pillow and sniffed. "I wish I could show everyone how flawed she really is."

Rachel fell asleep in that position. She didn't even get up when she heard her father knocking on her door later that evening, calling her to dinner.

The next day was Saturday, and as much as Rachel tried to stay in bed, there was only so long that she could sleep. She sat up with the achy, hazy sensation in her head of having slept too long. She was still buttoned into her school uniform, the material tousled and wrinkly, her skin stinging at points where the stiff unyielding creases had pulled into her flesh over the night.

She pulled her tangled hair out of her face and blinked around her room for a moment and was surprised to see that something had changed. Something...new had appeared.

There was a remote at the base of her bed. Rachel furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Her first assumption was that one of her parents had placed it in her room at some point. But what was it for? Some sort of gift? Her parents knew that she wasn't particularly fond of electronics. Rachel yawned and got out of bed.

She walked downstairs to the kitchen where she found Mom sitting at the table sipping coffee.

Mom gave Rachel a once-over. "Rough day yesterday?"

"You could say that," said Rachel as she sunk into a chair.

"High school is almost over, hun. Just a couple more months."

"Yeah..." Rachel offered a forced smile. "By the way, what's the remote for?"

"What remote?"

"The one on my bed."

"No clue." Mom finished her last gulp and got up. "You sure it's not for the TV in the basement? Your dad's been looking for that one."

"Right," said Rachel, lightly shaking her head. "Probably. I'm not sure why it's in my room though."

Mom seemed to have already moved on from the matter. She grabbed her purse off the counter. "I'm gonna run to the store. You need anything?"

"No," said Rachel.

"Make yourself some breakfast. There are eggs in the fridge. I like mine fried," she added with a wink as she walked off to the living room. Rachel heard a jangle of keys. The front door opened and closed.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Rachel mumbled under her breath. She left the kitchen and got showered and dressed. An hour later when she returned to the kitchen with the remote in hand, she was admittedly hungry, but found munching on plain bread to be a welcome alternative to having to cook.

She turned the remote over in her hand, studying it. It certainly wasn't a television remote. Rachel honestly had no clue what electronic the remote could be paired with. It actually seemed more like an air conditioner remote than a TV remote. There was a small LCD display as well as several unusual abbreviations and symbols, each resembling a mode she could select. Rachel couldn't even imagine what any of them meant.

There were up and down arrows that could be used to select the 'level' of each mode. Some of the modes had no level, just the offering to select 'on' or 'off.'

"Weird," Rachel murmured to herself. She decided to bring the remote to her calculus study group that evening. Maybe one of her classmates could figure out what it was for.

Rachel spent most of the day sprawled across the couch buried in a fantasy novel. She rejected an offer from Dad to go play baseball with him and Eric at the park. Occasionally Rachel went on social media and idly scrolled through posts, though she never left likes or comments, or posted anything herself. When evening fell, she got up, shoved her feet into a pair of running shoes, and pestered Mom for a ride to the library, until, surprisingly, Mom threw the car keys at her.

"Drive slow," Mom warned from behind her computer monitor.

Rachel wasn't one for joy rides. She went straight to the library, and at a reasonably slow pace. When she arrived to the private room she and a half dozen of her classmates reserved every Saturday evening for study group, she froze at the sight of the last person she had wanted to encounter that night, or ever, to be honest.

Lisa.

Fuck,was all Rachel could think. She quickly exited the way she came.

Someone followed her. "Rachel," said Simon, adjusting his glasses, his torso hanging out of the doorframe. "What's wrong?"

"I just didn't know she would be here," said Rachel in one breath, heat rising to her face.

"Who? Oh Lisa? C'mon, she's harmless without her posse. And failing calculus, apparently." Simon grinned.

"Oh. Right. I—I just need a moment."

"Okay. But don't make me come looking for you."

Simon went back into the room. Rachel leaned on the wall outside and took long, even breaths.

Simon was right. Lisa was practically harmless outside of her natural habitat, that being Cobbleton's small high school. High school was probably the peak of Lisa's life anyway. Everything would go downhill after graduation. Rachel felt herself lighten at the thought. She’s ruined the high school experience, let's not have her ruin my grades as well, Rachel decided as she pushed herself into the room.

The first thing she heard was Lisa's obnoxious whining. Lisa was twirling a lock of her long dark hair around her pointer finger as she blinked at Rob through thick mascara, "...and i got a B+ on the last test. My dad's gonna kill me. And I don't even want to think about what will happen if Stanford finds out. What if they withdraw my acceptance?" Lisa threw a glance Rachel's way. "Oh. Hi Phlegm."

Rachel's hate for Lisa swelled.

She sat testily through the study session barely paying attention to the equations being discussed. When they took a ten minute break, Rachel realized her hands were clenched in tight fists and she was burning holes in Lisa's head with her glare.

"Hey Rache," said Mike.

Rachel snapped out of her reverie. "Oh, hi." She lowered her hands to her lap.

"How is your weekend going so far?"

"Okay I guess, I mean..." Rachel remembered the remote. She pulled it out of her backpack. "I found this in my room. Can't figure out what it's for. You're into tech stuff, right?"

Mike took the remote, looking it over. "Hmmmm... What are all these modes?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out."

"NWidth, NLength, CSize, Litter, SColor..." Mike read off some of the options. "Really vague. Have you tried doing a web search?"

"Not yet," Rachel admitted, abashed. "I guess it's not that important."

“Yeah, I doubt you’ll get anything back, it’s all general-sounding.” The mode was on Litter. Mike randomly pressed the up arrow on the remote. Across the table, Lisa was extensively discussing her nail color with a blankly-staring Rob when she was interrupted by a belch escaping her throat.

Lisa went red, her hands clapping over her mouth. Everyone stared at her, and it was so good, Rachel was certain she had to be dreaming.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," said Lisa. "That was disgusting. I don't know what came over me."

It took almost another full moment before Simon pushed up his glasses and said, "Heh, no worries. I get super gassy on taco Tuesdays."

"Ew, Simon!"

Simon yelped as Val kicked him under the table. Lisa slowly lowered her hands from her still-flushed face and Mike tore his gaze away from the scene.

"Yeah, your best bet may be to just walk around your house pressing the buttons," Mike said to Rachel.

"One more minute," Simon called over everyone.

"...see if it activates anything. I mean, worst case, it's just some random thing left over from the previous..." while talking, Mike pressed the down arrow then the up arrow.

There was an even louder belch. Lisa's face was positively crimson, and Rachel joined the others in gawking at the other eighteen-year-old.

Lisa grunted and belched again as she folded her arms over her stomach. "Oh-emmm-gee guys, I feel really weird. I'm leaving!"

Lisa got up, grabbed her purse, and hurried towards the door. Rachel couldn't help noticing how bloated Lisa's stomach looked in the skin-tight top she was wearing.

-

What a strange day, Rachel thought, feeling rather...satisfied as she got home an hour later.

She began to think of the remote as a little good luck charm. It was so odd. Each of Mike's button-presses had corresponded with an embarrassing episode of gas from Lisa. Rachel snickered at the recent memory.

"How did your study session go?" Dad asked as Rachel strolled inside.

Rachel gave a weak smile. "Better than expected."

Dad looked up from the television, his eyebrows rising high. "Glad to hear."

Rachel went to the kitchen and found a plate of food waiting for her in the microwave. As she munched on green beans she idly pulled the remote out of her pocket and glanced it over. You're coming with me to school, she decided.

-

Monday morning found Rachel back in her crisp, stiff Cobbleton high school uniform. She walked into the building, feeling on edge, anticipating the worst as usual. She focused her gaze on her shoes.

"Get out of my way, Phlem."

It was Lisa's daily greeting. Rachel snuck a glance up at the other girl and was surprised to see that Rachel still looked bloated. Her uniform was hugging against her abdomen, showing off the abruptly-developed curve there.

It was as unusual as it was delightful—the sight of it, as well as the feelings of insecurity Lisa was likely experiencing because of it. She looked miserable, at least. Rachel knew she shouldn’t be celebrating another student’s probable medical issue, but she couldn’t help the way the corner of her mouth tugged upwards.

Rachel dutifully stepped out of Lisa's way, still contemplating on the odd turn of events. Her fingers idly stroked over the remote buried in her skirt pocket. Maybe her final few months of high school wouldn't be so bad after all.

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