Accidental Bust Cream

Heath ran a cold shower over his rash-covered body. He'd just been clearing out an old part of the lawn when he hit a few saplings. There had to be poison sumac in there, and he caught it all. His arms were just the easiest but sorest to touch. Red soon spread across his chest, pits, groin, feet, face, and even his eyes. Waiting it out was a challenge in distraction from the pain.

He went searching for something as a remedy, turning over old cabinets, opening musty drawers, and searching behind boxes. Eventually, he found an old, worn cream tube with just pictures on the front. It showed a woman putting out red spots on her arms. The anatomy was a bit inconsistent as her bust was several times bigger with shimmering skin results.

It smelled like something he would put on his skin and didn't burn as he applied it to a section of his wrist. Rubbing gently, he covered his arms in soothing, somewhat-minty relief. Slipping his shirt off, he continued across his hair clustered chest, paying attention to the red patches but freely spreading it all over his skin. The release under his pits was heavenly.

His hands wandered over his waist and thighs, rubbing in copious amounts across his thick groin, covering every crack and crease. After stretching all the way down to his feet, he finished by applying a final coat to his face.

Blinking gently in the mirror, he couldn't see the red anymore, just a soft expanse of white, like he'd been powdered in flour or talcum. Better yet, all the itching vanished as well. He stood there, serenely naked, as a faint tingling radiated from his wrists. Watching them, the flesh seemed to wobble.

Neat, pale nails jutted from the tips as his arms slimmed down. His shoulders tickled as the matted hair fell away. Lower, his fair nipples puffed up and swelled from his chest. Warm, pillowy masses met his cradling hands, a meager substitute for a bra. Pulling each boob aside he gaped at what remained of his manhood.

The flesh unfurled and tickled against his groin, his manhood reduced to a micro mushroom pointing to the ground. Teasing the remains made her sleek legs squirm. Standing on little feet, she looked up at her lips, puffy with softness, not irritation. Her eyes appeared wider with faint lashes. The hair atop her head, though shaggy, at least didn't swell past her shoulders.

Inspecting the cream again, she found a product code. A quick search online discovered a recalled bust cream from Canada. Reflecting on how her sister mysteriously blossomed at an early age, she had some ideas about the source.

A lukewarm shower felt amazing as she rinsed off the cream remnants. It also did nothing to reverse the changes. Not that she minded. The agonizing itching was gone, and she had some new toys to play with...