It was close to noon when she woke up. She pulled the covers off and looked at herself. No breasts. She looked young to herself-- with no breasts, especially. A box on a shelf held a few clothes that were too small for Cheryl before, and should fit her well now. She put them on. She had panties that fit, but no bra. Then she realized that she didn't need a bra. She got one of her old sweaters and put it on. Then, watching herself in a mirror, she took a deep breath, and felt her head begin to rise. Her breasts swelled slowly, and when they looked about right, she stopped making them grow. She bounced up and down a bit. Yup, nobody would be able to tell she wasn't wearing a bra. What a pleasant difference!
"Come in, Cheryl," the Boss told them. "You're not Cheryl! You kind of LOOK like her, but she's older and taller! Who are you?" "I am Cheryl. That's why I came here."
The next morning, Cheryl stared at the frozen eggs that she made for breakfast, while Deirdre ate hers. "Deirdre?" "Yes, Cheryl?" "How old do I look?" "I don't know. Sixteen, seventeen, maybe. Will you TELL me what's going on?" "Bad news, I'm afraid. I've been growing real fast the last few days, right?" "Yup. You looked older yesterday than the day before." "I think I blew it last night. I didn't eat right. I stopped growing." "Stopped growing?? Cheryl, that means..." "No, not STOPPED... The plan was that I'd age more quickly as long as the nutrients were available. So when I got to the right age, I could just skip a few meals, and then I'd be normal." "You mean-- if you're sixteen now, it will be TEN YEARS before you're twenty-six again?" "I'm afraid so." "Don't sit there then! Eat!" Cheryl did. Her breasts grew a bit. "That makes you look older." "Thanks." Cheryl picked up her dishes and threw them into the sink. She slumped against the counter, still upset. Deirdre got up walked over to her. Deirdre was now slightly taller than her, and gave her a hug. "You're alright, kid." "Who are you calling a kid?" Then there was silence for a moment. Cheryl didn't let go of Deirdre, and it didn't seem like Deirdre was letting go either. It suddenly seemed like the situation was more than friendly.
She dressed in a minute so as to look somewhat presentable. Her breasts were too large, still, which she noticed as she tried to put on the shirt she wore earlier it would take a minute or two for her form to shrink to the size she had before. She'd have to look just right normal enough not to shock anyone, but not quite so female as to make the story unbelievable of course, she wouldn't be able to prove anything to the press. She brushed her hair, and opened the door.
The next morning, they had breakfast together. As Cheryl ate her
potatoes, Deirdre noticed that Cheryl's breasts, formerly invisible,
were growing. That never happened when Cheryl wasn't paying attention
"Cheryl, your tits..."
Cheryl looked down at them just as the fabric began to tear. She HADN'T done it intentionally. She looked at her hands and noticed her arms seemed to be stretching.
I found a pair of silver scissors in my hand, and cut a bit of my hair off. The spirit worded it the way the Evil Queen in the Disney animated version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves worded her spell to make herself older - something like "A lock of hair to --" whatever, nothing the spirit said I remember very clearly. With a similar prompting from the spirit (this time something about age, as in age of the soul, I remember it was very creepy), I took a silver comb and began to run it through my hair, and my hair turned white (I don't know how I knew this) as the comb touched it, and my head felt cold and dead and old where the comb had gone over it. Midway through this process of soul aging and deadening, I got a hold of myself. Resisting, I asked the spirit, over and over, "Do you have my best interests in mind? Do you have my best interests in mind?" with the same sort of animatedness that was present when I took my retractable pen to defend the earth against alien hatred in my other dream. At first, it was nothing, but then my voice came to me, and it came louder until it was my normal speaking voice, and the spirit went away and I woke up.
This evil creature smiled at me, taking great pleasure in my obvious distress. He toyed with me, causing me to ‘see' him walking through the bedrooms of each of our children, deciding which one he would choose to bring affliction upon. As he leaned over each one, I cried out a helpless, despairing, "NO!" Smiling, he looked up, and went on. At last he arrived at the bedside of our oldest daughter, who was 15 years old. With unspeakable horror, I knew that he had decided to do something terrible to her. He smiled at me again, and turned to show me a dress that appeared in his hands–one that would fit a very small child. In this experience, I watched him place this much-too-small dress upon our daughter, who was literally squeezed into the fabric. It appeared she had to shrink in order to accommodate the dress. I had no idea what this meant, but didn't doubt it represented something abominable that had been ‘placed upon' our precious daughter.
No sooner was this act completed than I was back in my bed again.
A confirmation was the sudden change that took place in our oldest daughter. Literally overnight, she had changed from a sweet, innocent, honest and trusting young girl into a lying, arrogant, self-centered, and hardened stranger. Within a few short weeks, she became sexually promiscuous, and within months was suicidal. She began to dabble in the occult. I began to feel so threatened by her that I actually hid every knife in our house, and refused to be alone with her any more than necessary.
The little girl was seated next to the little boy, staring at his groin, beginning to pant with excitement. She could not take her eyes off of the front of his pants. They were undeniably getting snugger by the minute. She reached out tentatively and started to touch where she thought the head of his penis had to be. Much to her delight, his penis started to throb and push outward against the suddenly straining denim. There was a tearing sound but it seemed to come from her? While the erection began its own unstoppable expansion, the little girl had started to age, her clothes tightening, straining horribly, and then exploding off her body with casual abandon. In seconds, she had become the full grown woman she had wanted to be. She reached downward and started to play with her own female genitalia. She could not help it: She had to play with herself as she watched the boy's penis growing outward---a steel rod tearing through his boy pants. As the erection continued to grow upward, the masturbating woman spread her legs wide open and stood directly above the growing mushcock. Soon it reached her and proceeded to enter her.
She could not stop herself. All of her instincts told her to accept the phallus. She grabbed the stem and pulled it further into her hungry core. Soon her moans and squeals were echoing through the house, announcing to all her orgasmic delights. As she violently thrust back and forth she was slowly lifted off the ground as the boy grew into a man.