Red Carpet Revenge

Jessica Watterson was not happy.

“Nothing works!” the short, skinny actress raged in her apartment. “I’ve tried acne hexes, bad luck jujus, weight gain curses… nothing sticks to Adella!”

The young starlet was stealing all the good roles (and all the press attention) away from Jessica, and what was even worse was that she didn’t even have the bad manners to be mean about it. No, it was all “oh, Jessica, I think you’d be great in this other starring role I don’t have time for” or “I hear your charity work is going great” and other disgustingly pleasant things like that.

“Well, if I can’t bring her down, I guess the only solution is to leapfrog over her.”

Jessica had always been proud that her gorgeous appearance was completely natural. She wasn’t sure how many other Hollywood actresses were magically-enhanced, but she was sure that it had to be at least a good percentage. No one, however, thought that Adella was – there had been enough surreptitiously-cast dispels and true-sight charms cast against her to convince the casting agents that her incredible body was 100% for-real.

“Glamours aren’t the only way to get a body like that, though,” Jessica muttered, rooting around in her hexecessory box. “Aha!”

The harder magic was shaping reality itself. Not many actresses were talented – or desperate – enough to try it, but Jessica was confident, both in her abilities and her deep, aching need to prove herself the better, hotter, more perfect starlet.

The spell itself was deceptively simple. Just hold the image of what you wanted to look like in your mind, and then begin selectively modifying your history when you cast the spell repeatedly, hosting the focusing gem in your hands. The only trick was maintaining the concentration necessary – some inexperienced casters would find their minds drifting and suddenly find themselves turning into something else. One of the worst recorded instances was a young model who accidentally turned herself halfway into a toaster before dragging herself back from the edge of non-sentience. Rumor was she still occasionally had an uncontrollable urge to jam whole pieces of bread into her mouth.

Jessica started with her height. Adella had kicked off a small mania for taller women in lead roles, so Jessica obviously had to grow to compete. A few extra inches in elementary school, another six inches smeared over her high school career, and soon enough she was topping out at an impressive 6′6″ in flats.

Next, hair. Adella had a massive mane of wavy black hair, and supposedly had never even had it cut after her first appearance on the Mickey Mouse Club. Jessica’s pixie-cut had to go. Instead, in its place would be voluminous blonde curls down to her ass, curls that were still controllable and could be straightened in a pinch but would be excellent for her personal brand.

Jessica’s workout regimens and personal care meant she already had a nice firm, taut waist that offset her hips nicely, so the only things left were her breasts. This required some thought. She could just go for sheer size, blow Adella’s own massive boobs right out of the water with a pair of knockers of her own… even though that would probably rule her out for certain roles. No one would believe her as a teenager anymore if she looked like she’s stuffed two watermelons down her shirt. Yes, slightly smaller would be the safe, reasonable path…

…but Jessica was no longer doing this to be safe and reasonable. This was about sticking it to Adella. Her eyes blazed with determination. Bigger it was.

History contorted itself to this new version of events. D-cups by middle school. A set of G-cups were exploding off her slim body by the time she finished shooting her breakout role as the nervous young bride in a gothic mystery, The House Of Windsor. Her scenes in that movie were now infamous for her fluctuating bustsize – she’d walked onto the set an E-cup and simply exploded with growth during the shoot, her 18-year-old body “just going through puberty, I guess,” she told the annoyed director.

Still, that wasn’t big enough. Jessica’s breasts continued to swell, desperate to beat Adella’s H-cup whoppers. Her shirt, which until now had kept up with her growth, now creaked ominously as she crested J-cup and settled in at K. Breathing deeply, she pushed the last bits of her new history into place and lowered her hands, the focusing gem’s glow fading.

Jessica examined herself in the mirror. “Beautiful…” she murmured. It was no overstatement: she was now a paragon of sexuality. Blonde, bosomy, and skinny to boot, Jessica Watterson was everything Hollywood looked for in a leading lady. She reached up and massaged one of her enormous breasts and decided to bask in the memories of leaving Adella in the dust.

…only to discover that according to her memories, her rival was still beating her out in every way: better magazine covers, juicier roles, more awards, and a much larger fanbase.

Jessica let out a shriek and flung the gem across the room, where it ricocheted off the wall and shattered a mirror. “Fine! Fuck it! If she thinks she’s all that, then I’ll just deal with her directly!” She stormed toward the closet and started pulling out her sexiest, most scantily-designed clothes. “I’m going to make that little whore my slave!”