The little mutant girl straightened up, her body growing taller and more feminine. Soon, what stood there was a a young teen, blood coating her shredded clothes as a large hole glistened in her sternum. Tears glistened in her eyes as she stood, her shadow growing longer, more menacing.
" Why? Why Michael? What did I ever do to you?!
... Asil puzzled. "The biggest source of evil in the city is in the most famous department store in Paradopolis?"
Mumphrey reminded her. "It's a good thing you can change your age at will. If you make yourself, say, seven or so, I can play grandpa and take you into Mimble's Magic Santa Grotto to find out that's happening in there, m'dear."
"Deal," agreed Asil. "I am amazed that so many people are still last-minute shopping despite the snowstorm."
... "And what do you want for Christmas?" Mumphrey wondered as he led his now child-sized amanuensis into the gaudily lit, crowded store.
"A talking Visionary doll of course," answered Asil. "I just love it when they say ‘I'm real dammit'"
... "Peace on Earth?" Mimble's Santa asked scornfully as Asil sat on his lap. "What kind of child wants peace on Earth as their Christmas present?"
"A good one?" Asil answered helpfully. "I would also like goodwill amongst men. And women. Even for doody-head Lisa."
... "Ah, a minor cosmic office holder and an age-shifting clone," the man in the Armani suit noted, flicking shut his filofax and stepping out from behind his desk.
Molly returns to her room. At the back of the bottom drawer is the school uniform that she wore when she was twelve years old. She removes the maroon pleated kilt, steps into it and pulls it up to her waist. Molly thought her growth in the past two years had been mostly vertical. Now she sees that her waist and hips have swollen too. She can barely squeeze into the kilt. However, her legs have grown since she last put on the short skirt. When she was in seventh grade the hem of the garment brushed the tops of her knees. Now it barely covers her bottom.
Next, Molly puts on the uniform's tight white blouse, tying the straining shirt tails in a knot beneath her breasts. Finally, Molly completes her outfit by pulling on thin, white kneesocks that now only come partway up her ankles, and black Mary Jane flat shoes that barely hold her curled-up toes.
She looks at herself in her mirror. Her tight, pleated kilt hugs her hips and falls only an inch or two below them. Her tightly tied white blouse exposes her abdomen and the valley created by her developing bosom. Her nipples show clearly through the stretched material. Molly's brain is screaming at her to take off that demeaning outfit.
Children's Books of the Year: 1982
P110: ... to go into the garden because she was too big to stay indoors) Mrs. Nesbit forestalls comment by adding, "Fortunately her clothes had grown with her...
...keep in mind that there are distinctions between the different levels of paraphilia in terms of "pedophilia". Some are into the barely-legal set, others pubescent, pre-pubescent, ect. If KIW is into just the "bubbly schoolgirl" stuff, he'll have an easier time than if he's into the "preteen" fantasy.
...many women I've known have had fantasies about being a girl in her mid-to-late teens. Fewer fantasize about being molested as a preteen (though, I have met a few).
Fwesson seems to be an about 14 year-old boy, about 5'6" tall with a light brown skin and brown hair. In fact he's an 'Ageshifter'. (He chose the age of 14, in most ways he's more adult than that; his body can turn down to 6 and up to 40 years, these are borders set by his imagination.)
His clothes burst at the seams as he grows, and he loses his shape as he expands, until at last all that is left of him is a pile of torn clothing on the floor... and a 10 foot tall flesh-colored cocoon, inside the strange octagram.
Diana's genetic structure had been manipulated so that she would grow at an accelerated rate. Only yesterday, she had been six years old. As they gazed out at her now, she had to be at least ten. Now her black hair had fallen almost completely down to her feet, swarming around and covering parts of her increasingly exposed body.
Her slow voice came as it always had during her development, a sort of dual voice between her current age and an older one, a mature, woman's voice: "I merely accelerated my growth."
Her head moved from one side to the other, as if in her own gesture. "Being so young is so boring. I wish to be a woman again. I rather enjoy being a woman. I wish to be one again."
He predicted that Diana would be a "woman" within maybe two weeks. That estimate took into account her normal rate of growth plus another unexpected boost of maybe four years again, equaling an age of eighteen, which might be her idea of a woman's age.
By now, her body had started to develop through puberty, and that pervert, Joshua, kept glancing at her conspicuously.
"Do you like what you see?"
Diana repeated herself, this time more seductively; at least, the adult part of her voice was seductive, since it was rather difficult to make the voice of an eleven/twelve-year-old seductive. Her hair parted, revealing all of her current body to them, or rather, to Joshua.
There she was in the center, staring out, that smile ever present on her face.
She had to be sixteen now, her body clearly having grown to that point.
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