She stared in the mirror at her curly brown hair, childish white blouse, scuffed sneakers, jeans one size too big for her 9-year-old legs.
She tried to imagine herself older, beautiful and tall. "I wish," she whispered.
Suddenly, she could feel it. Her body began to feel heavier. She grabbed onto her desk for support and looked down at her hands. Her friendship ring, which her sister had given her, felt tight all of a sudden. So did her sneakers. Her hair brushed up against her shoulders. Since when was it that long? She glanced in the mirror again. The cuffs on her sleeves and jeans had crept up past her wrists and ankles. Her jeans seemed to have shrunk, and were encasing her legs. What was going on? She looked at her hands in amazement as her friendship ring popped off her finger.
Then she heard an odd sound, coming from below. As she looked down, she saw her jean button pop open. Her socks were breaking through the front of her sneakers! The laces began to snap, one by one.
Her longer legs, meanwhile, began to suffocate in her jeans. She bent down and her heels burst the backs on her shoes. She felt the seams on the denim begin to give way in a few places.
She stood up, and her thighs finished the job, leaving oval gaps that showed off the skin of her suddenly so much longer, shapelier legs. And they weren't done yet!
She looked in the mirror again. She had to be at least 6 inches taller, and she could feel her legs continuing to stretch upward. She saw the cuffs on her sleeves had reached her elbows. Her darker hair now ran all the way down her back. But most important, most amazing, was her chest.
She saw breasts growing there now, filling up her blouse.
She looked down and happily watched her breasts pushing out in front of her, popping the first button, stretching her undershirt taut against her body. The fabric dug into her skin, but she didn't mind. Her new breasts were wonderful! She had to be at least a B cup now. Almost as big as her sister. Suddenly, the back of her shirt broke from the stress.
And still, she aged. She looked in the mirror. She had to be 5'5" now.
The only item of clothing left on her were her underpants, but she could see they were about to go as well. And, sure enough, the stitching began to quickly rip apart. As her panties fell to the floor, she could now see thick hair down there.
Her wish had come true. She was tall and beautiful, the most beautiful young woman she had ever seen.
And Rob was still downstairs. But she couldn't just go down naked. She needed to put something on. Marching downstairs naked was still too much for her. So she slipped on her bathrobe. Naturally, it completely did not fit her new body.
The top barely concealed her breasts. But it was better than nothing, and she knew nothing she had, or few things her sister had for that matter, would fit her now.
Lydia walked downstairs. It felt strange to walk with this older body, and it took her a couple steps to get accustomed to her different center of gravity.
She grabbed onto the railing and walked down the stairs, unconsciously bending so as not to hit her head on the ceiling above the staircase, even though there was still plenty of space.
She saw Rob sitting on the couch. He looked so... young.
'Hello, Rob,' she said.
He turned and looked at her. He rose. 'Um Hi?' he asked. There was an unexpected tone in his voice.
'I'm Maggie's big sister, Lydia.'
'Oh. Well, um, I was just waiting for your little sister. I mean...I was just waiting here for Maggie. But it looks like she's not coming for a while, so I, um, I'll just...tell her Rob stopped by. Nice to meet you.' And he rushed out of the house.
Lydia was crushed. What had she done wrong? Even with a college body she had struck out with Rob. She ran back to her room and cried herself to sleep. When she woke up, it was already morning. She glanced at the clock: 6:45. She sat up. The school bus would be arriving soon.
'School?' she thought. 'What is everybody going to say about the way I look? What is Daddy going to say?!'
She looked down at herself. Fortunately (or unfortunately) she had turned back to her normal 9-year-old self. Had it all been a dream? The pile of tattered clothing in the middle of her room answered that question. 'Oh, well,' she said to herself, and put on a white dress for school. On her way to the bus stop, she threw away her torn clothing into a garbage can.
'I guess it's going to be just another lousy day after all.'
Just then, she felt a familiar feeling. An odd feeling. Was she sick? Her body felt strange. She looked down at the floor, just in time to see the buckles on her shoes pop open. It was happening again -- on the school bus! There was nothing she could do. She felt her body growing older, as it had before. Her breasts swelled up for the second time, pushing against her dress until the material became tight. She could see her nipples poking through the cotton. Her legs lengthened, stretching out against the back of the seat in front of her. She had to curl up just to be comfortable -- and to avoid detection. She heard a soft rip, and then began to feel her dress splitting apart at the side seams.
Her arms widened too, and strained the fabric in her sleeves. The back of her dress tore open loudly -- but not louder than the motor on the old bus. Then, finally, the front of her dress fell forward, revealing two wonderful, firm, B-cup breasts. Maybe C-cup she thought.
Again, she was naked, this time on her school bus, with 30 other people she knew! She watched the bus pull into the school's driveway. 'Oh, God!' she thought. 'What am I going to do?' The bus stopped and everyone bustled out. Lydia continued to hide, but none of the other kids had noticed. Finally, the bus was empty. Except for the driver. He was a round man, and was glad to see all the pre-pubescent noisemakers gone -- at least until two thirty. He stood up from his seat and began to walk to the back of the bus, collecting the garbage left on the seats. Lydia heard him coming. What would she do? Finally, she knew she had no choice. Holding the remains of her dress to her 18-year-old body, she rose.
'Hello, baby,' the driver wheezed. 'Hiding from me?'
'I need to get home,' Lydia replied. Even her voice had changed.
'I'll drive you home, baby.' The driver advanced slowly. His fat, sweaty hands were clenched in fists.
'Get away from me!' Lydia held out her longer arms to keep him away. The dress she had been holding up fell to the floor, revealing her body to the lech.
Then her body shrank and shriveled back down to its true age. Her curves faded away. Her dark hair curled up to its short length. Her pubic hairs pulled back into her body until nothing was left. She looked like her innocent self again. The driver fainted.
She had to get home!
Her father was still home! She tried to tiptoe down the hall and up the stairs. 'Who's there?'
She froze, pre-roadkill. 'Lydia!' She turned toward him. He had not seen her naked since she was six. He now stared at her with shock.
'What are you doing?!' he demanded.
'I'm sorry, Daddy. It's a long story.'
'Go get some clothes on and meet me in the kitchen. Now, young lady!'
Lydia raced to her room and slipped into a shirt and jeans. She didn't even bother putting on underwear. And she was quickly running out of footwear, but managed to find an old pair of penny loafers from last year that didn't really fit her feet anymore.
"Dad!!!" She wished and she prayed. Her father sat there, staring forward. But the only thing in the room that was growing was his impatience.
'Lydia...' But then something began to happen. He sat back, confused. What was going on? Something was different about his daughter. He looked down at her feet. Those loafers looked awfully tight all of a sudden. And since when had those jeans only gone down to her ankles. His gaze ran up her body. Her shirt only covered half of her stomach. His gaze continued upward, and froze on his 9 year-old daughter's breasts. Breasts??
He could see her nipples through the fabric of her t-shirt. Her breasts were pulling the shirt up as they grew tighter across her chest. Then the ripping began. First, her loafers. The leather just split into six different pieces. Her jeans were next, bursting into denim ribbons on her elongating legs. Then the waist of the jeans ripped down the side, and the pants fell to the floor, giving Lydia's father a view of his daughter's widening thighs. Her t-shirt was last, and by the time his eyes had focused on her upper body, the t-shirt was already in strips across woman-sized breasts.
'See,' she whispered. 'I told you so.'
And he fainted. Lydia was very confused. She just didn't understand men. Her father woke up a couple minutes later. Lydia had used her adult strength to drag him to the couch. In the meantime, she had de-aged herself again, this time willingly, and had put on a long-sleeve, colorful shirt and white pants and suspenders and her best black shoes. Her 'cute' outfit. The one her father liked best. He opened his eyes and looked up at his daughter's sweet young face. 'Ow' he said.
Lydia could feel her gym clothes getting tighter on her. She had to fight it! She couldn't let Chris Sampson see! With her luck, he'd probably just keel over and die.
Her hands were clenched, in a vain effort to control this thing. But that only made her slightly swelling biceps more noticeable, and they began to push up her sleeve. And she could see that Chris was getting shorter -- except, of course, he wasn't.
'Lydia, are you all right?'
'I got to go!' she cried out, and ran over to the shower stalls and closed the curtain just in time to prevent Chris from seeing her now teenaged feet emerge from her last pair of sneakers.
But he didn't go away.
'Lydia, are you all right? Do you want me to get the nurse?'
'No, no. I'll be fine.' Her gym shorts began to bulge over her expanding thighs.
'I just didn't take a shower yet today and I'm just, you know, a clean freak.'
Her gym shirt strained in the front and back simultaneously, and her sleeves almost exploded as she passed through her middle teens. She could feel the tips of her breasts straining painfully against the shirt.
Lydia managed to shrink herself back to normal before the other girls returned.
Please. I need you to believe me. If I prove it to you, will you believe me? Will you help me?'
Debbie sighed. Lydia began to undress.
'Ew what are you doing?!'
'Please,' Lydia replied. 'Just give me two minutes.'
Lydia had already begun to grow. She slipped off her jeans in time to escape rending them. As she slid them down her legs, she could feel them stretching. She could see the floor beneath her growing slightly more distant. She could feel her breasts budding. She calmly looked back at wide-eyed Debbie, who appeared smaller now, less mature. Lydia stretched out her longer arms.
As she stretched and inhaled, her developing breasts rose up and as she exhaled, she could feel them descend.
Debbie came up to her upper breasts now.
'Well?' Lydia asked, half-expecting Debbie to faint or vomit or run away or who knows what.
Then Debbie broke the silence: 'Cool.'
'Show me how to grow up too.'
Lydia shook her head. Her long, dark hair swung back and forth. 'I can't show you how. I told you. All I did was wish for 6 months. Maybe if you wish hard enough, it'll happen to you too.'
So Debbie did. She closed her eyes and held her breath and clicked her heels three times and thought of four leaf clovers and wished, wished and prayed that she could be tall and beautiful and strong like Lydia.
'Debbie...oh my gawd!' Debbie knew what Lydia was exclaiming about. She could feel it. Every bone in her body tingling.
Debbie was not a short girl for her age, maybe 4'11'', and of average weight, too. But she was not 4'11'' anymore. Her entire body began to grow. An inch. Two inches. She felt her shoes pinching her toes. Her stockings becoming taut. Her burgeoning thighs filled her skirt until it became tight. And her sleeves began to run up the lengths of her arms, until the cuffs reached her elbows. And then the cuff buttons just popped away. 5'3''. 5'4''. Stress lines began to show in her stockings. Her breasts were suddenly there, and quickly filling up her blouse. Her erect nipples poked at the material. The spaces between the buttons widened. Her shoulders broadened too much for her blouse -- the stitching just gave way, separating her sleeves from the rest of the outfit.
5'5''. 5'6''. Down below, the back seams on her shoes had ruptured on her growing feet, and the leather across the top of her feet had also split open. Large holes were now scattered across her nylon stockings, revealing generous portions of much longer legs.
The buttons on the front of her blouse spat away as her breasts entered C-category. She pulled it off, and it fell to the floor, joined by the rest of her denim skirt. Which left only her white panties. Thick pubic hair filled her panties, some already sneaking out from underneath.
Debbie looked at Lydia, who was now maybe an inch shorter than she. She and Lydia stared at each other's young adult bodies. 'Not bad for a couple of 5th graders,' Debbie said.
'Can you shrink yourself back to normal?'
'Why would I want to?' Debbie walked around the room.
It took the agony of her choking feet to wake her up to her suddenly scary reality.
'Oh, no,' she whispered. She could see her breasts slowly filling up again, touching her shirt. She could feel her nipples stretching as they brushed up against the cotton. Chris finally noticed Lydia's sudden aging. He stood up by his seat, and watched her with utter fascination. Her breasts pushed forward her suspenders. It looked like her shirt was shrinking on her, but it was the opposite -- she was growing up in it. The sleeves ran up her arms. The bottom ran up her abdomen. The colorful shirt stretched willingly, and soon it had become a tight short-sleeve outfit. Chris could see the bottoms of her still swelling breasts curling out from the bottom of her shirt. Amidst it all he heard the ripping of her other clothes -- her pants and shoes. But he couldn't see those. All he could see was her now teenaged chest. The fabric was being stretched to its limit, and Chris could make out erect nipples through the material. Then it happened. A small tear appeared between the two breasts. This was a shirt meant to fit a flat-chested 9 year-old girl, not a high school senior!
The tear grew, and was quickly joined by other holes across her shirt until nothing was left of it but strips of exhausted colorful fabric. Meanwhile, she was still rocking back and forth nervously. She pushed back, giving Chris a clear view of her long legs. He had dreams about women, but not about Lydia.
Then she saw Chris, staring at her. 'Oh, no,' she muttered, fearing the worst.
'Hi,' Chris said, and began to grin.
Lydia laughed. 'Hi,' she said. Finally, a boy had not passed out or run away or wet his pants. She stood in front of Chris, looking down the nearly one feet of difference in their height.
She noticed he was staring mostly at her breasts, but she didn't mind.
'Touch them,' she said.
'Go ahead,' Lydia offered. 'Touch them. ' And she stepped closer to Chris, practically pushing her breasts against his chin. So he did. He placed one trembling hand on each breast, and slowly rubbed them. They felt cold.
'I'll see you later,' she told Chris. And, gathering up her shredded clothes, she added, 'Thank you.' Lydia returned to her house again. She put her bike in the garage and went up to her room. She really was running out of clothes now.