Cabin Fever (story)

A figure entered the quiet church. The high vaulted ceiling, painted deep blue, surveyed the stone pillars and long pews with solemnity. Stained glass windows watched from the sidelines that lone figure, a black-haired olive skinned woman with a pixie cut in her twenties, approach the front of the room and kneel beside an altar. She clasped her hands together.

“My child,” A gentle voice resounded throughout the building. “What ails you?”

“Lord,” she prayed aloud. “I wish I had big fuckin’ tits so that people would look at me for once.”

“Isabel,” came the gentle reply. “Come to the island and your prayers shall be answered.”

“Wait, what island?”

The woman opened her eyes to a loud beeping sound and looked up. The familiar walls of her room met her vision. The alarm on her phone continued to beep. Groaning, she picked it up and turned it off. “Weird dream,” she muttered. The woman begrudgingly left her bed and began to face the day.



Two men, one tall and other short, were chatting in a hallway.

“Check this out,” said the tall man, taking out a bible in pristine condition, seemingly untouched, complete with that new book smell.

“Ain’t that Izzy’s?”

The tall man smirked. “Not anymore.”

They snickered, then froze as the sound of boots echoed down the hallway.

“Shit, it’s Izzabitch.” Quickly tucking away the book, he speed walked towards the corner, disappearing from sight.

“Hey,” Isabel called out. She appeared with a bright orange object, approaching the short crewman.

“What’s that you’ve got there?”

“I found this during inspections.” She showed him a life vest with frayed edges.

“Looks in bad condition.”

“This is old and might not work in an actual emergency. Did any replacements arrive?”

“I haven’t checked our inventory yet.”

“Go do that. Ow!”

Isabel winced, putting her hand to her head. The tall man had returned, holding a huge box. “Sorry, didn’t see you.”

“Be careful! Someone could get hurt!” Isabel sighed. “By the way, have either of you seen my bible? I think someone took it.”

“Where’d you leave it?”

“I was asking to be nice. I know one of you took it!”

“I haven’t seen it,” replied the tall man.

“It was in my room before I went to the toilet, but when I came back it was gone, and the only other two people on duty near me were you two.” She inhaled with a deep breath.

“Have you tried checking your room again?” suggested the short man.

“I’ve checked so many times!” Isabel felt her heart pound.

“Maybe you missed a spot?”

“There’s no way!” Isabel’s shouting was audible throughout hallway.

“Izzy, calm down.”

“No, you calm down!”

Then the sensation of lightheadedness hit her. Thinking it unusual, she put her hand on the wall to stabilize herself, waiting for the feeling to go away. But instead, she felt hot. Her breathing quickened, and soon she was sweating bullets.

“Great, now she’s getting seasick.”

“Just get your ass to the doc.”

As much as she wanted to argue, she couldn’t muster the strength.



“You have a case of the island flu.”

“Huh?”

“It’s like the normal flu, except people’s bodies undergo temporary effects.” The doctor motioned to her breasts.

Isabel looked down, her confusion quickly turning into surprise. Before she realized it, her breasts appeared to be about two sizes larger.

“As you can see, your body will change. There have been reports of other types of changes, such as those to height, hair, voice—”

“Are these changes perman—whoa!”

She was taken aback at how smooth and silky her voice had become.

“The changes are only temporary. But don’t worry, it’s not dangerous. Or contagious.”

Isabel looked over her own body. She felt calmer, no longer gasping for breath. Then, a question came to her mind.

“Why is it called the island flu anyway?”

The doctor sat down. “There’s an island near the continent that has some supernatural properties. Anyone who goes to that island will experience similar symptoms as you. Though travel there is prohibited, it doesn’t stop the wind that passes the island air to the mainland. Or in our case, our cargo ship.

“But in any case, you should be fine now. Just rest, drink plenty of water, and this should go away in 1-2 weeks.”



After a brief nap, she felt refreshed and overjoyed at her larger breasts and seductive voice, yet hungry. It was about lunchtime, and the mess room was sure to be packed. Knowing what everyone thought of her, she took slow steps to delay her journey as long as she could, but before she knew it she was at the entrance. Taking in a deep breath, she opened the door.

The mess room was crowded and, as expected, there was barely any free seating. She approached the counter, already hearing a few snickers from behind.

“Today’s choice is chicken or beef,” said the chef.

“I’m feeling chicken today,” she said with a silky tone. Everyone stopped and looked at her.

“What are you looking at? It’s the island flu,” she explained.

“I see.” The chef added an extra portion to her plate. “This one’s on the house. Hope you feel better.”

“Wow.” She blinked a few times. “Thanks.”

Her tray filled, Isabel turned around. “Izzy, got a seat here.” A man pulled out of a chair next to his table.

“Weird. He would never do that,” she thought.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as she sat down next to him.

“Confused. Is the island flu real? I thought that was something people made up.”

“Oh it’s definitely real.” The people around the table nodded.

“But check out these babies!” Isabel unbuttoned the top of her shirt, revealing the cleavage from her enlarged chest.

“Daaaamn girl!” Everyone’s eyes widened, welcoming the sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah! It’s almost as if this flu is some gooner’s fetish or something. You guys listening?”

The men hastily picked their jaws off the floor and looked away, blushing furiously.

“Oh I see…” Isabel smirked. “Wanna cop a feel?”



Those were the most fun two weeks she had at work. But before she knew it, everything went back to normal. Still, she found herself longing for more.

After arriving to port and unloading cargo, she did more research. Sure enough, no ferries offered service to the island, and any information about it was limited to rumors, wild speculation, and conspiracy theories.

Isabel found herself kneeling in front of the altar in the church again. Everything was the same, save for the ceiling, which was gray.

“My child,” came the same gentle voice. “What ails you?”

“Lord,” she prayed, “Let me get sick with the island flu again. Everyone paid attention to me during those two weeks. I wish that could last forever.”

“Isabel,” came the gentle reply. This time, the voice was closer, coming from directly in front. “A storm will bring you to the island.”

Isabel looked up, confused. Standing before her was a tall woman with blonde hair, dressed in a white robe. Isabel blushed in awe, acknowledging her otherworldly beauty.

“We will meet soon.”

Isabel woke up with a start. Gray clouds loomed in the sky outside her window.

“What’s with these dreams?” Isabel wondered aloud.

The ship rocked her gently like a rocking chair. But as time passed, the ocean waves grew rougher, the clouds turning darker. A faint rumble of a thunderstorm resounded in the distance.

Isabel clasped her hands together. “Lord,” she began, “Please make sure everything will be okay.”

The next thing she knew, the room suddenly tilted, and she fell to the floor.

“Attention,” came a loud voice form the ship’s automated broadcast system. “We are experiencing unusually rough weather. Brace for heavy waves.”

A loud boom resounded throughout the ship. She rose, only to be knocked forward by a strong tilt of the ship, creaking noises accompanying the ship’s motions. Sirens flashed red and the intercom started to blare a harsh warning tone.

Fueled by the warning from her dream, along with a shot of adrenaline, she got up and made her way to the life vests. “Please don’t let this be real,” she muttered to herself.

“Attention,” repeated the broadcast, “We are exp—”

The message was abruptly cut off, along with the lights. However, the sirens, powered by a backup generator, continued to flash, painting the dark walls an ominous red.

Enduring the heavy rocking with low vision while maintaining unsteady footing for what seemed like forever, Isabel slowly approached the containers of life vests and grabbed the first one she found, hurriedly donning it.

As soon as she fastened the buckle, the most sickening crunch sound met her ears. From her vantage point, Isabel could see down the cargo laid out on the deck. She watched in horror as the unthinkable happened: the ship split in two, cargo containers tumbling into the sea as the cross-section of the ship revealed itself. She screamed as the ship’s motion knocked her over off the platform and towards the sea. Her instincts kicking in, she reached out to grab the railing, only to give the lightest tickle to the metal bars before falling into the water.

An ice cold, wet sensation assaulted her senses. Isabel kicked her legs and brought her face to the surface, gasping for air. The scene before her cemented her fears. The ship splitting in half seemed too perfect. Almost movie-like, in a way.

She looked around in a panic, checking for survivors. Any wails of help were smothered by the fierce winds and waves. Isabel kicked harder and harder to keep herself afloat, finding herself sinking ever so slowly. She looked down at the life vest, dismayed to find that it was deeply frayed.

Isabel slowly opened her eyes, surveying her surroundings. The sound of waves was still there, but they were gentler. But instead of a black sky, the clouds were merely a lighter gray.

As she pushed her body upright, she felt something fine tickling her hands and feet. Isabel looked down to find sand beneath her. “Did I wash ashore?” she wondered. She sat up and checked for injuries. Her body ached, and her torn life vest lay a few paces from her, but she was otherwise fine.

“Where’s everyone?” she wondered. Turning her gaze to the ocean, she gasped as the answer revealed itself: resting in the distance was the cargo ship, split in half.

“Please, I hope everyone is okay,” she prayed. “And that I don’t have to see them ever again, but most of all that they’re okay.”

She looked around. She was on a white, picturesque beach, and if it weren’t for the lack of sun and the disaster she just encountered she would have considered this a potential spot to rest while drinking tequila.

“Hello?” she called out. “Anyone here?”

“Isabel, we finally meet.” She turned around and looked up to find a familiar blonde woman, dressed in a white robe.

“Whoa, you’re real!”

“Indeed.” After struggling to look away, she succeeded and looked over her shoulder at the destroyed vessel. “The island protects itself from outsiders,” she said.

“So they’re…”

“I’m afraid so.”

“It can’t be. I mean, I know I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want them to go off like this…” Isabel looked back at the woman. “You’re from my dream. How—”

She smiled at Isabel. “I know you have many questions. I can communicate with people who the island finds suitable.”

“Suitable?”

“Everyone on this island is blessed with a gift. That includes you.”

“What’s my gift?”

“We’ll find out. But first, you will receive it.”

A warm sensation came over her, which quickly became hot, causing sweat to pour out from her body. Isabel looked around curiously, confused by the apparent lack of heat sources. The sky was still cloudy. “Is it me or is it hot?” She unbuttoned the top her uniform.

Then she found herself breathing harder and harder. “What’s going on?” she wondered. She could feel a mounting pressure all over her body. Unable to endure, she fell forward as she hard a loud crack. The bones in her body were growing, extending the length of her legs, arms, and spine. Crack after crack, Isabel groaned, contorting her body to ease the pressure from her uniform, shoes, gloves, and belt constricting her frame.

She looked at her right hand, in confusion, then awe as her fingers were lengthening at a visible rate. Was this the rumored supernatural glamorization? She grunted and twisted as another crack sounded, her growing causing her shirt to untuck from her pants and her sleeves to rise higher along her arms.

Her attention was robbed by something tickling her cheeks. She placed her hands near them, feeling out the source of the sensation to find her hair. It can’t be this long! And yet the strands of hair crept downward, determined to reach its destination, wherever that may be.

A moan escaped her lips. The pressure shifted to her chest, and she felt something push outward against her uniform. She looked down to find two soft mounds rising like bread in an oven. “No way!” she exclaimed, taking the opportunity to cop a feel. “They’re soft… no, getting softer… and bigger! Just like I’ve always wanted! Yes! Ye—ngh!” The buttons on her shirt popped off, as her warm flesh rushed to fill the space, exposing her new cleavage to the world.

A loud creaking noise interrupted her, followed by a strange sensation near her butt. She gasped as her pants started to dig into her crotch. Putting her hands on her hips, she could feel them expanding outward by the second. “I must be dreaming,” she said. Her legs had grown so long that her pants could no longer hide her calves.

Isabel slowly yet unsteadily stood up, finding herself looking downward at the woman. “I must be growing taller too—ohh!” Her voice grew deeper, more confident, more authoritative, more commanding. “Yes, that’s it.” She relished the feeling of muscles subtly shifting around her face, giving her a more mature look.

As her hair shifted from black to brown to orange and settled in curls around her waist, she felt an end to the sensations. Now at 6’6”, she towered over the woman.

“You’ve received quite the magnificent gift,” she said.

“Thanks.” Isabel had never felt better.

“Please, this way. Let me show you around the island. Your new home.”

Isabel smiled and followed her footsteps.