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While looking at the little Hispanic girl, the other three backed off. Once they were ten or more feet away, Lisa snapped her finger. It didn't take two seconds and little Jessica began growing. Further, her clothes did not grow with her, revealing ever more of her physique as her jean clad stature moved upward. The front of her pants popped open, the zipper ripping with a metallic twang. "Wow!", said Tracy while they moved further and further back.

I was looking forward to playing my character; she's based off of Jade in Jackie Chan Adventures. In the last game, she magically grew up in an instant... I was hoping to do character development and her adjustment to an adult body with the mind of a child ~sigh~.

Jesse was almost eleven years old, spindly and tall for her age. She appeared even taller and spindlier than she really was because her clothes were much too small for her. Jesse had worn the same tatty school uniform for over a year. Her stepmother was so mean that Jesse had never once received bigger hand-me-downs.

Are the boys appalled or attracted by her budding breasts straining under taut baby-t's? Fuck them all, she decides. As her clothes wear out she replaces them with second hand rags.
The next four years can be sped up, the girl's hair flickering long, short, long, short, as her shirts tighten over growing breasts and her pants transform into trendy flares.

She started to develop breasts when she was 8 years old, and she started to menstruate when she was 10 years old. She was well over 5' tall in third grade, and she said that she felt like a physical misfit because of her height even before she started to develop.
I started to wear heavy sweaters to cover myself so that no one would see me. I was in total denial--I just didn't want it to be true. You should see my 6th grade class picture. I was 5'11 and 110 lbs. I had this long stringy hair that I was hiding behind. All of the other girls in the picture are wearing little spaghetti strap dresses in bright colors and smiling, and I was seated in this little chair with my knees practically up to my ears because I was way too tall for it, a big thick sweater to try to hide my breasts, jeans that were too short for me, and a miserable expression on my face. That picture pretty much captures my experience in elementary school. I felt big, awkward, and not cute and pretty; I stuck out, and I felt miserable.

A sudden thought came into her head and she reached for her midriff and looked down. There was no pain, but that wasn't what surprised her. There was something in the way that blocked her view. Two things in fact. Breasts. Two of them, with a cleavage in between.
Angela stepped back in surprise but they both came along with her. She continued to look down at them. Then she felt them gingerly. Then she pinched one.
"Ow!" she yelped, rubbing her skin. They were hers, part of her, it wasn't an illusion.
She investigated the wound in her midriff again, leaning further forward and squeezing her brand new breasts out of the way. There were holes in her formerly oversized shirt, which clung very tightly to her body now, but her skin was unmarked underneath. She could tell because her skin was no longer covered by the shirt, which had somehow been lifted much higher up her body.
She twisted around and found the scar on her side she had got as a young girl. It was still there. So it was her body, then, only... older? The more she looked, the more changes she found. Her waist was slightly wider but seemed so much narrower, and her hips were so much wider and unfortunately fully exposed through large tears along her pants seams, and what remained of her pants was so much shorter, or rather her legs were longer, and her feet were bare now, except for a few remaining shreds.
And why was her hair getting in the way all the time? It was never that long before. In sudden panic, Angela ran to the side of the lake. There she stood on the edge of the water, staring down at her reflection. What she saw startled her.
"Oh, my word...."

A pretty girl threaded yarn onto a spinning wheel. She looked no more than five or six years old, with bright eyes that matched her dress.
I sighed, and in less time than it takes to blink, the girl morphed into a middle-aged version of herself, with long graying dark hair, and light-brown skin showing the first wrinkles and roughness of time.

A few interesting things she remembered from the speaker:
She said she was able to make one of her fingers grow longer. The speaker said that the mind has power to really change anything you focus on and he had them hold their hands out and concentrate on making one finger grow longer. She said she was pretty skeptical at first, but after a while of intense concentration it really happened for everybody.

She jumped back hurriedly upstairs, wondering whether any pants were tight enough. She dug out a pair she hadn't worn since she was thirteen and tugged them on. She could barely close the zipper and the waist dug up into her almost painfully hard. Red faced, she went back downstairs.

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