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His breath caught in his throat. She wore overalls that were already so short and tight that small holes were opening along the seams. He swallowed hard, and tried to make light of his male reaction. "Trying out for Playboy?" he teased her.
She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest as she continued concentrating on the age correction. "I don't exactly have any indestructible fabric. And I need something against my body to help me feel the change." She grabbed her shoulders and tensed her upper body. A strange vibration shook her as she closed her eyes.
Jason watched with fascination as this former child became a woman before his very eyes. The curls faded from her blonde hair first, and then the strands grew darker in shade. Her arms and legs gave off a soft crunching sound as they pushed out from her abdomen, her height increasing by inches per second. The tearing of the fabric got louder, seeming to come from all directions, until most of her ruined clothing fell to the floor. Her body grew leaner as she extended in size, expanding in all directions from head to toe. Her face also changed shape.
A few strange pops and a sucking sound from inside her body made him cringe. He hated that part of the aging process. Yet he knew his reward was going to be a pretty face, beautiful in fact. It was always amazing the way a dozen or more years could pass by in seconds.

I realized I was going to die. But I wasn't going down without a fight. I put my bag down and started morphing into my adult body. The DNA was part of me, I could trigger the genome with a single thought.
People are starting to notice you aging. I suggest we leave
I felt strange, a wave of anger and courage crashing over me. My shirt began to tear as my chest and shoulders grew larger. My pants ripped and I felt a pain on the sides of my hips where they finally split open. Well, not really a pain, just a powerful feeling I had learned to identify with growth itself. I hadn't noticed it yet, but my brown hair had started to grow longer and began to spread down my back. My fashion model legs (well not really) stretched out like thin ivory pillars.
I looked at my exposed feet. I put my shredded shoes in a pile behind me with the remnants of my child sized clothes.
... I de-aged and grabbed my clothes. They were torn all over and loose as I walked into the house. Safe at last.

Carol rushed out of the bathroom and put on a floral dress that was already too small. The laced edged sleeves stopped at her upper wrist, and the hem barely reached below her knees. The armpits were tight and the front squeezed against her blooming chest. It was uncomfortable, but she realized it was because she was outgrowing it.
"There better not be any men watching or they'll get quite a show."
Carol looked at her borrowed dress in concern. "You mean, this one, it won't grow with me? That means it'll be ruined. And I can't return it to you." She tried to take the floral dress off but it seemed stuck.
Brigid continued laughing. "Don't worry about it."
She took a deep breath and felt the dress grow tighter on her. She pushed her arm back down the sleeve and it began to rip down the seam. Peeling the sleeve from her arm, she let the material fall to the ground. Her other arm was firmly pinned at her side.
The ground was slowly receding, and the room was growing smaller and closer at the same time. As she grew taller her underclothes began to split in many places as well, the gaps expanding until they met across "acres" of new skin. Linda had taken her coat off and wrapped it around the now adult Carol.

Justin rushed down the hall toward the bathroom. It was the end of the day, so there weren't too many people around in the halls. He just wanted to get home, but his swelling erection made that impossible. As he rushed into the bathroom, he dropped his bag haphazardly.
He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily as he felt his meat swelling inside his cargos. He just didn't want to take any chances. He only hoped what happened yesterday was a one time thing. He looked down. The increased length and girth of his penis, combined with its tending to become straight as a pole, had made it extremely powerful.
With morbid fascination, he stood watching as the head began to show through the sturdy fabric. The head stopped swelling as the shaft began to curve towards his pants leg. Even through the added restraint of the extra pairs of boxer-briefs, the appendage forced the front of his pants to tent in an outward curve.
It occurred to him that this should feel painful, but he was surprised to discover that it barely registered. Each beat of his heart forced more blood into his penis, exerting more and more force on his pants. To Justin's horror the head was rising. His belt was tugged down as the shaft pushed the front of his pants out to the point that he could feel the fabric pulling tight against his butt.
The door to the restroom swung open, and Justin panicked as he heard footsteps. In walked Annasophia, looking around as if expecting to find something or someone. She was wearing her tightest jeans, and at that moment he realized he had lost the battle. Upon seeing Justin, she only smiled as she looked down to the front of Justin's pants.
"Need help with that....?"
Justin was speechless, looking like a deer in the headlights. He began to stammer until the sound of straining fabric filled the air. He looked down in horror once again as Annasophia smiled. With a loud burst, the zipper of his cargo pants split open. A lump of throbbing red cotton forced its way out from the cloth chasm. It pushed insistently outward as the red underpants tore away to the blue pair underneath. The blue quickly peeled away to gray, which stretched to great length in a feeble effort to contain Justin's enormous erection.
With a satisfying tear, the last layer gave out. Without restraint the head of Justin's cock slammed out of his open zipper, bouncing against his stomach before settling at its 45 degree angle, sticking out from his body for more than 10 inches, bobbing like a fishing pole that had a bite. Annasophia moved forward, still smiling as Justin could only watch, paralyzed with fear....

My old roommate in Montreal had these red slacks she wore every day from first grade to fifth grade.
The red slacks were her favorite pants when she was a kid and she never let go of them. Even as she slept. When she woke up for school every day, the pants were clean because her mother had snuck into her room, washed and dried the pants, and then snuck them back into the bed before morning. As the years went by, the pants aged. When they got holes in the knees, patches were sewn on. When they got too short, cuffs were added. When they became too tight (this is about three years in), the seams were split and extra material was added down the sides. Although my roommate grew out of her pants physically several times over, it took until her tenth birthday before she had grown out of them mentally.

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