B.A.P. Stories
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Build-A-Partner: Grand Opening
🕑 Added 2023-11-17 02:31:56 +0000 UTC(Author's Note: This was my first story, written over a year ago at this point. It's a short one, written as a brief introduction to the Build-A-Partner concept. It hasn't been shared in very many places, but I figured y'all might get a kick out of it! Enjoy!)
Starting a business is always a risky and uncertain venture, and it didn’t help that Barton didn’t consider himself much of a businessman. He had a great idea and a solid product, but lacked the acumen or capital to put it into practice. Still, he had managed to finally get his own enterprise off the ground with a little help from some less-than-friendly loans. Being an inventor by trade had done a number on his credit, especially since he always seemed to be struggling to find funding, dipping into his own pockets to finance most of his creations. This time, however, he was confident that he would make all of that money back. This time he had a real winner.
The actual storefront was in a less-desirable part of town, with most of the neighboring buildings in rough shape and his own store having bars on the windows and a sturdy deadbolt on the front door. Still, he had done a decent job of tidying the place, and got a professional sign made in an attempt to seem more legitimate. ‘Build-A-Partner’ the sign would declare in eye-catching colors as prospective clients approached, ‘Advanced Cosmetics and Conditioning’ the subtitle said underneath. Mysterious, enticing, and hopefully enough to get people in the door and interested in what he had to offer. His advertising budget was admittedly very small, and he had to resort to photocopying a handful of fliers that he stapled to telephone poles around town. Barton was certain that word-of-mouth would take care of the rest.
The first customers walked in around midday - a young couple, a man and a woman - entering the clinic-like lobby wearing a mix of curiosity and apprehension on their faces. Barton was working the reception desk, a task that he normally would have loved to delegate but was forced to perform as the company’s sole employee. His face lit up when he saw the pair, and he did his best to stand up straight and look professional. He had opted to wear a labcoat with ‘Build-A-Partner’ hand-embroidered on the breast pocket, his wire-frame glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he watched his customers approach the desk.
“Welcome to Build-A-Partner, where beauty is more than skin deep!” he chimed, proud of the little catchphrase that he had come up with. “I’m Barton, I’ll be your technician today should you have any questions regarding potential procedures and packages.”
He pushed a little pamphlet towards the two, and the man picked it up and began scanning it. The couple had a normal look about them, in their mid-to-late twenties, with sensible outfits and sensible hairstyles. The man wore a light blue Oxford collar shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a dusting of five-o’clock-shadow on his jawline and his dark brown hair cropped short. Plain slacks, plain loafers, and wholly unremarkable overall. The woman was similarly afflicted, wearing a yellow blouse and a business-like skirt and flats that helped her blend in a crowd, hair pulled in a ponytail. They both had brown eyes and fair skin, and Barton had pinned them both as very WASP-y. Hopefully that would change soon enough.
“Thanks Barton,” the man muttered, turning the pamphlet over in his hands. “I’m Greg…”
“...And I’m Cecilia,” the woman offered with a polite smile.
“...We saw the, uh, fliers around town. Honestly, I didn't expect to see a salon all the way out here.” Greg glanced around the empty lobby.
“We’re much more than a salon!” Barton corrected, “Our makeovers go much deeper than just an on-the-surface touch-up.”
“What, like… surgery?” Cecilia asked, reading the pamphlet over her boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Not quite!” Barton replied, stepping around the desk and motioning for the two to follow him, and they began to shuffle off towards the back of the establishment. “It really has to be witnessed first hand. I can’t do it justice by just explaining it. I’ll give you a sample, free of charge, so you can see what kind of services we offer.”
They came to a pair of industrial metal doors, one labeled ‘CONTROL ROOM’ and the other labeled ‘TREATMENT ROOM’. Barton turned on his heel to look at the couple, hands clasped in front of him.
“So! Which one of you would be interested in receiving the treatment?” He looked back and forth at each of them expectantly.
“Oh, Cecilia.” “Me!” the couple said simultaneously, causing both of them to laugh. “But, um, I have some questions before we go in.” Cecilia continued. “The pamphlet is pretty vague, I’m not really sure what-”
“I assure you, once you’re in the Treatment Room it will all make sense!” Barton reassured her. “Greg will be in the Control Room with me, and he’ll make sure that everything is tip-top! Isn’t that right, Greg?”
“Uhh, sure. Yeah.” Greg gave a half-hearted nod.
“Excellent! If you would, Cecilia?” Barton opened the Testing Room door and ushered her in, before shutting it behind her. He then led Greg into the Control Room.
The Control Room looked like it had been plucked out of the set of a grungy sci-fi movie. The walls were a metallic lattice that had exposed wires running along them, the only source of light being a single exposed fluorescent bulb that hung from the ceiling. There were two stools set up in front of a metal desk, on which sat a positively ancient-looking computer. Its casing was a yellowing off-white, it’s CRT monitor hummed, and it looked as if most of the wires in the room were running either too or from it. The wall behind the desk had a large window built into it, the glass bearing a metallic mesh within, the kind seen built into microwave ovens. The window looked into the adjacent Testing Room, its walls padded and the floor covered in sterile white tiles. Cecilia stood in the center, upon a clearly marked red ‘X’, and waited patiently for the procedure to begin.
“This… wasn’t what I was expecting…” Greg said as he looked around at the jarringly haphazard Control Room, following Barton to the computer.
“The cage protects us from the tachyon emitters,” Barton said plainly, “We’re sort of in a ‘reality bubble’. It assures us that we won’t be altered by the process, what with, you know, chaos theory and all that…”
“Wait… what?” Greg leaned forward to look at the blinking green status line on the computer screen. “What exactly are you doing? What’s-”
“Alternate realities, Greg!” Barton interrupted with a wide smile. He took a seat in front of the computer and motioned for Greg to do the same. “An infinite number of them with an infinite number of permutations. The device that I’ve created, and as such the service I provide, involves me nudging our way through these realities until we find something we like. Of course, there are limitations, I can only really operate on a single person at a time, but the possibilities are astronomical!”
Greg gave the eccentric inventor a blank stare, then shook his head in disbelief.
“Wait… that’s not… and you decided to use this technology for… makeovers?” he asked, suddenly far more wary of whatever it was that Cecilia was about to go through.
“Yes and no.” Barton typed away at the bulky keyboard, strings of code that Greg couldn’t keep up with scrolling on the screen. “This is capable of far more than just a touch up. Here, why don’t I show you? As part of your sample, your lovely Cecilia can undergo one change. What would she like? Or, if you’d rather… what would you like?”
Greg was clearly skeptical, so Barton felt he had to help guide him along just a little further.
“Here, I’ll make it easy for you. Her hair. What would you change about it?”
“Well,” Greg said after a moment of hesitation, “I’ve always thought that she’d look better as a blonde?”
Barton’s fingers clacked away at the keyboard, rapidly inputting a command and hitting ‘SEND’. He pointed at Cecilia through the window to direct Greg’s attention, just in time for him to see his girlfriend’s hair lightening at the roots. Her dull brown hair turned into brilliant blonde tresses in a matter of moments, and she seemed none the wiser. Greg’s jaw was agape, shock and confusion dancing over his face. Barton decided to give him a few moments to take it all in.
“She… how…? Doesn’t she notice?”
“No one outside this room will,” Barton answered, tilting his head towards the metal walls. “Not unless they’re in their own little reality bubble. As far as anyone is concerned, she’s always been a blonde. All pictures, all videos, all memories, all of history will reflect it.” The inventor was beaming, excited to finally be able to share this with someone else. “Pretty cool, right?”
“How much?” Greg looked at him with an intensity that wasn’t there a moment before. “To do more? How much does it cost?”
“Oh, um, well the packages are pretty reasonably priced. If you just wanted a physical work-up, that’s a $100 flat fee. Mind and body is $5000, and there’s a discount if you bring in multiple people to-”
“Done. Give me the second one.” Greg was already fishing for his wallet, much to Barton’s surprise. He handed over his credit card, which Barton took and ran through the mobile reader he had on his phone.
“And… all set! I’ll print you out a receipt back at the reception desk for your-”
“I want her boobs to be bigger.” Greg was right up against the glass now, leering into the Testing Room at his blonde girlfriend. “Like… way bigger.”
“Um, sure!” Barton shrugged and turned back to the computer. “Any preference for specific size or shape or…?”
“I don’t want them to sag. Just make them nice and big.”
A few keystrokes later, and Cecilia’s shirt suddenly leapt forward, the blouse straining and struggling to hold back the billowing breast flesh that was growing on her chest. A moment later and the cloth began to slacken, her outfit changing to match her massive new assets, her bra no longer digging into her shoulders as it grew in tandem with her bust. Each one of her breasts was easily the size of her head, dominating her torso and sitting high and proud on her chest. Her posture faltered for just a moment before the muscles in her back tightened, growing stronger and more defined to help her carry the new weight with ease. It wasn’t something that Greg had asked for, but Barton figured that he would appreciate it if Cecilia wasn’t stricken with spinal issues later in life. Despite a moment where it looked like she was unsure of her center of gravity, Cecilia seemed perfectly fine, unaware that anything had happened. Her memories had already shifted to a new reality where puberty had hit her like a truck. She was an early bloomer, it was something that ran in the family. Genetics were weird like that, weren’t they?
“Oh my God…” Greg whispered, his breath fogging up the glass. “They’re huge.”
“I can change them if you…”
“No! No, they’re perfect. Can you…” He turned his head towards Barton. “Can you make her like them?”
“Like them… how?”
“Make her want to show them off. Make her… proud of them.”
Cecilia’s back arched, her shoulders pulling back a little as she thrust her wobbling chest forward. The neckline on her blouse began to dip, morphing from a modest top to something that showed off a generous amount of deep cleavage. She loved her boobs, they were by far her best feature. Real head turners that got her attention wherever she went. When she was younger she had considered herself to be a real Plain Jane, but once those fat sweater puppies came in suddenly everyone knew who she was. She could feel their eyes on her, feel them staring at her big, perky tits… and she loved it.
“Hell yeah…” Greg breathed. Barton could notice the tent in his slacks, but didn’t say anything. It was part of the service, he supposed. “Make them sensitive. Like, sexually. Her nipples too. Way more sensitive.”
Barton was happy to oblige - who was he to judge? Besides, they were his first customers! Cecilia’s lips parted as two dents appeared in her top, her nipples stiffening and pushing through. Just the sensation of those hard nubs rubbing against her bra was enough to get her all worked up. It was an inconvenience for sure, but it had made her and her boobs the talk of the town. The girl with the huge knockers that could cum just from being fondled? It sounded like something out of a porno.
“I want to see her play with them,” Greg demanded.
“Um, well a simple command like that isn’t the sort of thing that this device does. I could make it so that she’d want to play with herself, or…”
“Make her always want to play with her tits,” Greg said.
“Always?” Barton asked, before Greg shot him a look. “Okay! Okay, always. You’re the customer.”
Cecilia’s hands flew up to her chest, her fingers crushing through the cups of her bra as she pressed her palms into her boobs. Her eyes were half-lidded with the hot rush of pleasure she felt, cheeks pink with arousal, her breathing heavy and her knees buckling. She always had trouble controlling herself, even in public, the desire to grab big handfuls of her beautiful boobs always getting the best of her. They felt so good to play with, and whatever shame she felt would always quickly melt away when she got lost in her pillowy tits. Her thumb and forefinger found her aching nipples, rolling and tugging on them as soft whimpers and gasps escaped her lips. She could feel the heat between her legs… what was taking them so long in that room? She wasn’t in the mood for a makeover anymore, she just wanted to get back to her apartment so that she and Greg could-
The door to the Testing Chamber flew open, and she yelped in surprise, then sighed in relief when she saw it was Greg. She opened her mouth to suggest something, but barely was able to get a word out before he closed the distance to her and cupped her boobs in his hands. Cecilia let out a delighted moan, her eyelids fluttering as her boyfriend roughly groped and kneaded her through her shirt, his lips pressing against hers as the two of them gradually found their way to the floor.
Barton sat in the Control Room, cleaning his glasses on his shirt. It certainly wasn’t the expected result, but he couldn’t argue that the two seemed happy now! Plus, that five grand would go a long way in paying off some of his debts. Not bad for Build-A-Partner’s opening day.
