Lydia was 13. Little over 4'8". Her estrogen had still

barely kicked into gear. Her mother had bought her a training

bra to make her feel better, even though she still really did not

need it. She wanted to be grown-up so badly. She wanted to be

just like her older sister, Maggie. Tall. Beautiful. She had

a crush on her sister's boyfriend, Rob, and always swooned from a

distance whenever he was over. Of course, he never even noticed

her. Nobody ever did.

One day, Rob came over early. Maggie was still at

cheerleader practice. He wanted to surprise her with a necklace.

It was their sixth month dating anniversary. Lydia stared at him

from the stairs. He was so gorgeous. Strong. She ran up to her

room and closed the door. It wasn't fair! With a body like

hers, she didn't even have a chance. She stared at herself in

the mirror. Her short, brown hair. Nondescript white blouse.

Jeans that had fit her since she was 10. Sneakers. She tried to

imagine herself beautiful and tall. So beautiful and tall that

Rob would never ignore her. Ever.

"I wish," she whispered.

Suddenly, something strange happened. She could feel it.

Her body began to feel very weird. She grabbed onto her desk for

support and looked down at her hands. Her friendship ring, which

her sister had given her, felt very tight all of a sudden. So

did her sneakers and jeans. Her dark 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 very tightly. What was going on? She

looked at her hands and watched 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 also pop open. Her

sock-clad toes were coming out of the fronts of her sneakers!

The laces began to snap, one by one. She used to be a child's

size 14 but now she had to be at least a woman's size 2 or 3.

Her legs, meanwhile, continued to suffocate in her jeans. She

bent down to feel her growing feet and her calves just burst the

seams on her jeans apart. She also felt the fabric on the denim

split open. She immediately stood back up, and her swelling

thighs finished the job, ripping apart the seams there, leaving

nothing but strips of denim hanging down her legs. She could see

wonderful muscle tone on her suddenly long, shapely legs. She

looked in the mirror again. She had to be at least six inches

taller! And she could feel her legs continuing to stretch and

tone.

Now staring her reflection again, she saw the cuffs on her

sleeves had now reached her elbows. Her dark hair ran down her

back. But most importantly, most amazingly, was her chest. She

saw her breasts, growing bigger and bigger, filling up her

training bra and blouse. Quickly, she unbuttoned her blouse and

managed to take it off before it also became too tight. She

looked down and happily watched her breasts pushing out in front

of her, stretching her training bra taut against her body. The

straps began to dig into her skin, but she didn't mind. Her new

breasts were wonderful! She had to be at least a C cup now. Or

a D. At least as big as her sister's. Maybe bigger. Suddenly,

the snaps at the back of her bra popped open from the stress and

her bra fell to the floor, collecting with her blouse and

sneakers and jeans. And still, she grew.

She looked in the mirror. She had to be almost six feet

tall 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 over her legs began to quickly

rip apart. As her panties fell to the floor, she could now see

her pussy, filled with thick dark hair. Her wish had come true.

She was tall and beautiful. Over six feet tall, and the most

beautiful woman she had ever seen.

And Rob was 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 bottom barely concealed her pussy, and

the top barely concealed her breasts. But it was better than

nothing, and she knew nothing she had, or her sister had for that

matter, would fit her now.

Lydia walked downstairs. It felt strange to walk with this

new body, and it took her a couple steps to get accustomed to the

different center of gravity. She grabbed onto the railing and

walked down the stairs, bending down so as not to hit her head on

the ceiling above the staircase. She saw Rob sitting on the

couch. He was so handsome. And now she could have him.

'Hello, Rob,' she said.

He turned and looked at her. He rose.

'Who are you?' he asked. There was an unexpected tone in

his voice. Fear?

'I'm Maggie's little 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? She was so

pathetic. Even with the body of a goddess, 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 Dad going to say?!'

She looked down at herself. Fortunately (or unfortunately)

she had turned back to normal. Small. Insignificant. 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.'

On the bus, Lydia sat in the back, as usual. There, nobody

usually bothered her and she could watch the other kids. The

pretty girls. The attractive boys. Of course, not of the boys on

the bus were as attractive as Rob -- they still had a lot of

maturing to do. But there were a couple potentials. Especially

Chris Sampson, who sat two rows in front of her. Ninth grader.

Junior varsity basketball. Lydia watched him talk with Heather

Dunway and Stacy Applebaum. She wondered what they were saying.

She wished she could be in that conversation.

'Not people like me,' she thought and sighed.

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 bus! There was nothing she could do.

She felt her body growing larger, fuller, as it had before. Her

two breasts swelled up inside her dress until the material became

tight. She could see her maturing 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 had widened too, and burst 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, D-cup breasts.

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 she was there to

begin with, so nobody bothered to notice where she was. Finally,

the bus was empty. Except for the driver.

He was a round man, and was glad to see all the 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

curvaceous, spectacular body, she rose, and bumped her head on

the ceiling.

'Hello, baby,' the driver wheezed. 'Hiding from me?'

'I need to get home,' Lydia replied. Even her voice had

changed, become sexier, huskier.

'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 long arms to keep

him away. The dress she had been holding up fell to the floor,

revealing her impressive body to the lech. He just grinned and

reached for her.

He wrapped his arms around her and she screamed. Adrenaline

pumped through her veins like a powerful drug and she didn't even

notice that odd feeling return. She pushed the bus driver away

with all her might, and then watched with surprise as he flew

down the aisle and into the front windshield. Then she also

realized she was slouching more than usual. She looked at her

body and realized what had happened.

She had grown taller. She had to be at least six foot six

now. Her body was still beautiful, but now the feminine muscle

tone was more defined. She felt her rock-solid calves, her hilly

abdomen. She traced her small, strong biceps. She felt so

powerful! Even her tissue underneath her breasts had swelled,

making her breasts appear to be even bigger and more wonderful.

But she knew she couldn't stay here on the bus. The driver

would wake up eventually. Well, probably. The school bell rang

and she watched everyone still outside pour into the school

building. Now was her chance. With one hand, she pushed the back

door of the bus off its hinges and she stepped onto the ground.

She had to get home and figure out what to do next.

As she cut through the back streets and neighbors' yard, she

could feel her power abating. In fact, with every step, she

watched as her body shrank and shrivelled down its normal, puny

size. Her curves faded away. Her dark hair curled up to its short

length. Her pussy became less hairier, until nothing was left by

an immature stubble. By the time she had reached her house, she

looked like her homely self again.

She slipped in through the back door, but heard dishes

clattering in the kitchen. 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 and disgust. Was he

disgusted because he was seeing his 13 year-old daughter naked,

or because his 13-year old daughter was just so unattractive?

Lydia didn't know.

'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 t-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 elementary school that, of course, still

fit her tiny feet. Reluctantly, she went back downstairs and into

the kitchen.

Her father was sitting at the table, waiting for her, arms

crossed. 'Start talking.'

So she told him everything, from her first wish in front of

her bedroom mirror to the bus driver. He just sat there and

listened. Finally, she finished.

'Well?' she asked.

'Prove it.'

'What?'

'If you can do this, prove it. If you can't prove it, you

will be grounded until hell freezes over.'

She stood up. Could she do it willingly? She had to prove

it to her father. He had to believe her.

She had pulled up her t-shirt halfway, when he suddenly

cried: 'What do you think you're doing?'

'I don't want to ruin more clothes,' she said.

'Leave it on, Lydia.'

So she did. And she wished for it to happen again, to prove

to her father she wasn't a liar. That she wasn't whatever

disgusting creature he thought she was. That she could be

beautiful like her older sister Maggie, and like their mother,

wherever she had gone.

She wished and she prayed. Her father sat there, staring

forward. But the only thing in the room that was growing was his

impatient.

'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

above her ankles. His gaze ran up her body. Her t-shirt only

covered half of her stomach. And what was wrong with her stomach?

Were those muscles? His gaze continued upward, and froze on his

13 year-old daughter's breasts. Her swelling breasts. He could

see her nipples through the fabric of her t-shirt. Her breasts

were pulling the shirt up as they grew, and pulling it tight

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 enlongating, firm,

shapely legs. Her strong legs. Then the waist of the jeans ripped

down the side, and the pants fell to the floor, giving Lydia's

father a very good view of his daughter's pussy and thick,

wonderful 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 her large breasts and incredible muscles.

He rose. His daughter was taller than him now, and so

beautiful.

'See,' she whispered. 'I told you so.'

And he fainted.

Lydia was very confused. When Rob saw her wonderful body,

he ran away. When the bus driver saw her wonderful body, he tried

to rape her. And when her father saw her wonderful body, he

fainted. She just didn't understand men.

Her father woke up a couple minutes later. Lydia had lifted

him with one hand and carried him like a dinner plate to the

couch. In the meantime, she had shrunk herself back to normal

again, this time willingly, and had put on long-sleeve, colorful

shirt and white pants and suspenders and black shoes. Her 'cute'

outfit. The one her father liked best. Which, of course, wasn't

saying much, but Lydia knew any little bit would help.

He opened his eyes and looked up at his daughter's small

face. Her short, dark hair. Something...there was

something...something had happened... He tried to remember.

'Hi, honey,' he said, sitting up.

'Are you feeling better?'

'Sure. I guess I must've passed out or something. Did I

pass out?'

Lydia's blue eyes sparkled. 'You don't remember?'

'No. I remember...sitting in the kitchen...eating

breakfast. Getting ready to go to work...work! Oh my God, what

time is it?!'

He checked his wristwatch and immediately bolted toward the

front door.

'Honey, I got to go. Don't worry. I feel fine. I...why

aren't you at school?'

'I think I'm coming down with something. Don't you

remember? You told me I should stay home today.'

'Oh.' Her father checked his watch again. 'Well, okay. Have

a good day, honey. There's tuna fish in the refrigerator. Unless

I ate it. Did I eat it?'

Lydia smiled. 'No, Dad.'

'Okay. Love you!' He closed the door behind him.

Lydia sat down on the couch. What was happening to her?

And, more importantly, how could she use this to her advantage,

instead of causing abject fear or lust in everyone she met?

After twenty minutes of thinking, her brain hurt and she

decided to go to school anyway. Maybe she could figure things out

there. Or maybe someone could help her. She got on her bicycle

and began to peddle away.

Lydia snuck into school and went straight to her second

period class -- gym. Everyone was already outside playing

softball. She went to the locker room and changed into her grey

t-shirt and shorts. She walked over to the mirror to make sure

she looked all right.

'All right is an exaggeration,' she sighed. She ran her

fingers through her short, dark hair. Over her hormonely-

challenged little body. She knew she could be different. But

still...

'Oops.'

Lydia saw, in the corner of the mirror, the reflection of a

boy. And not just any boy. Chris Sampson. The hunk of the 9th

grade.

'Sorry. I didn't know anyone was still in here,' he said.

'Coach Robinson asked me to get her whistle.'

Lydia blushed.

'You're Lydia, aren't you?'

Lydia blushed some more. And quietly nodded.

'You're on my bus.'

She nodded again. She was quickly losing her ability to

keep from swooning.

'Where were you today?'

'Biked,' she said, much too loudly. Inside, though, she

could feel something. Something she did not want to feel. She

struggled to fight it.

'Oh, yeah? I live too far to bike. But next year, I'll be

driving. I already have a car waiting for me. A Mustang

convertible. My dad is a used car salesman.'

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.

'We have English together, don't we? Mister Barclay. God,

he's a monster. Don't you think?'

She nodded. Her hands were clenched, in a vain effort to

control this thing. But that only made her slowly 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 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 split apart

on her expanding, muscular thigh. 'I just didn't take a shower

yet today and I'm just, you know, a clean freak.' Her gym shirt

tore apart in the front and back simultaneously, and her sleeves

just exploded to the floor of the stall. She could feel the tips

of her large breasts throbbing with pleasure.

'This is new,' she thought.

'Lydia?'

Well, now that she was, after all, naked, she decided to

turn on the shower anyway. And that was what convinced Chris. She

heard him walk away.

The highest on her the nozzle would spray was her breasts,

and the feeling of the water jets striking her erect nipples gave

her a feeling unlike any she had ever felt before. She braced

herself on the stall and rocked back and forth with the rhythm of

the water. Finally, the incredible pleasure reached its climax,

and she relaxed.

'What was that?' the 13 year-old thought, smiling.

Then she noticed that, during her orgasm, she had put twin

holes through the walls of the stall with her hands.

Lydia managed to shrink herself back to wispy normal and

put on her other outfit before the other girls returned from

softball. But she could not forget what had happened in the

shower stall. It was the first -- and only, so far -- advantage

she had found to having this bizarre ability. Everything else

that came with it was too much of a burden. She frightened men.

She ruined her clothes. She destroyed school property -- which

really wasn't so bad, and caused a lot of funny confusion in the

locker room and rumors about enormous mice,but she was making a

list of negatives, and Lydia was good at making a list of

negatives, and so she included destroying school property on her

list, too.

She needed help. There had to be someone who could help

her, someone she could tell her secret to, someone who would keep

her secret, and someone who could help her. But she had no

friends. And her sister...forget about her sister. Maggie could

hold her breath longer than she could hold a secret. Who could

she tell?

She looked around the locker room at the other girls

getting dressed. All the pretty girls, the well-developed girls,

the girls the boys liked.

'But Chris liked me, didn't he?' Lydia wondered. He did

seem like a nice guy. He was concerned about her health. Maybe he

was the one she could trust. Maybe...

'Stop it!'

Lydia looked toward the source of the scream -- the

showers. Oh. Debbie Dugan was getting beat up again. What Lydia

lacked in any popularity, Debbie Dugan made up for in bad

popularity. Everyone picked on her. For no reason, really. Debbie

was not ugly. She was friendly enough. Everyone picked on her,

Lydia decided, because everyone else picked on her. She hated

junior high school.

A couple of the girls had pushed Debbie, already changed

into her school clothes, into a shower stall and had turned on

the water. Lydia watched as the shower water soaked through

Debbie's nice blouse and denim skirt and stockings. It really

wasn't fair.

The bell rang and everyone left, laughing on their way out

at poor, wet Debbie Dugan, still sitting in the shower stall,

crying. Lydia walked over to her and turned off the shower.

'Thanks,' Debbie said. But she didn't get up. She just sat

there, a drenched mess

'Why do you let them do that to you?' Lydia asked.

'I don't. I try to fight, but there's just so many of them

and it just makes them do worse things and I don't know. Maybe I

deserve it.'

'Why?'

'Because I'm a loser,' Debbie said.

'That's not true. Losers don't have friends.'

And Lydia offered her hand to help Debbie to her feet. With

a faint smile, Debbie accepted Lydia's help and stood up. She

brushed the wet hair from her eyes.

'Thanks. But why do you want to be my friend? They'll just

start beating you up. Trust me: it's better to be anonymous.'

'Trust me: it's not. And anyway, I need a friend now. Very

much.'

'Why?'

'Because I have a problem I need a friend to help me with.'

Lydia looked at Debbie. 'Will you help me?'

Debbie paused for a moment, and then nodded.

The next class was coming into the locker room to change,

so Debbie and Lydia went to the one place they knew they could be

alone: the guidance office. Even the guidance counselors were

gone -- out to lunch or maybe just lost somewhere in the school.

They were even more invisible than Lydia.

They stepped into the conference room and Lydia shut the

door.

'What is it?' Debbie asked suspiciously.

'I need you to promise me you'll never ever tell anyone.'

'Who would I tell?'

Lydia nodded. 'Okay. Here goes.' And she told Debbie

everything.

After Lydia was finished, Debbie paused for a while. A long

while. Finally, she said:

'I knew it.'

'What?'

'I knew this was a big joke. God, you must think I'm the

most gullible person in the world.'

'No--'

'I hope you got your kicks,' Debbie said. Her eyes welled

up with tears. 'I hope you're happy.'

She stepped toward the door but Lydia stood in front of

her. 'No. It's true. Please. I need you to believe me. If I prove

it...if I prove it to you, will you believe me? Will you help

me?'

Debbie sighed. Lydia began to undress.

'What are you doing?!'

'Please,' Lydia replied. 'Just give me two minutes.'

'You're disgusting! Let me out!'

But Lydia had already begun to grow. She slipped off her

last piece of clothing -- her panties -- just in time to escape

rending them. As she slid them down her legs, she could feel the

muscles in them stretching. She could see the floor beneath her

growing more and more distant. She could feel her breasts, her

wonderful breasts, filling with strength and power and pleasure.

She looked at Debbie. Debbie appeared so small now, so

insignificant. Like a twig.

Lydia stretched out her long arms, inadvertently knocking

down a couple books off the bookcase. As she stretched and

inhaled, her breasts rose up and as she exhaled, she could feel

them descend.

Debbie came up to her belly button.

'Well?' Lydia asked, half-expecting Debbie to faint or

vomit or run away or who knows what.

Then Debbie broke the silence:

'Cool.'

Lydia smiled. Debbie slowly approached Lydia, and wrapped

her two hands around Lydia's thick wrists. Lydia curled her arms

and lifted Debbie up off the ground as if she were weightless.

Debbie giggled, and Lydia placed her back down.

'How did you do that?' Debbie asked.

'I told you. It began with the wish. Ever since then, I've

been able to control it. Except for the time on the bus and the

time in the locker room.'

'When you were with Chris Sampson.'

Lydia glanced over at her friend. She was right! The two

times she had lost control she had been with Chris Sampson! But

what did it mean?

'And there's something else too,' Lydia said. 'Watch this.'

And she grabbed the tips of her breasts and began to

massage them. She ran her fingers around her nipples and felt the

pleasure increasing. Her tall body began to shake again as the

pleasure grew and grew. Then: climax! She moaned and fell back

into the bookshelves, crushing them.

'Wow,' Debbie whispered.

'I need your help, Debbie. What can I do? Now that I have

this power, what can I do with it? I don't want to scare Chris

like I scared my sister's boyfriend. God, he probably had

nightmares last night!'

'You like Chris Sampson, don't you?'

Lydia blushed a little. 'Yeah.'

'I'll tell you what. I'll help you if you do one thing for

me.'

'Anything.'

'I hate those girls that beat me up. They have no right to

do that, do they? I mean, they deserve to be punished.'

'You want me to punish them?'

'No,' Debbie replied. 'Show me how to grow so I can punish

them.'

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.

Maybe if you wish, it'll come true.'

'Lydia,' Debbie replied, 'I've been wishing every day for

the past six months. It won't work.'

'Well, try again.'

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.

But nothing happened.

'See,' Debbie said, sighing.

'I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you.'

'I know. It's just not fair. No offense, but why you? Why

not me? Why...'

Debbie stopped and was staring at Lydia's pussy. Lydia,

suddenly feeling self-conscious, covered her genitals with her

left hand. 'What is it?' she asked.

'You're wet. How did you get wet?'

Lydia felt her pussy with her left hand. Sure enough, it

was wet. Very wet. With an thin, clear, unfamiliar liquid.

'What is it?' Debbie asked. 'You weren't wet before.'

Lydia wanted to ask Debbie how she knew that, but decided

now was neither the time or the place to go into those murky

waters. But she was right.

'Maybe it happened when you were...you know...fondling

yourself.'

Lydia thought she might be right, but wanted to see for

herself. So she grabbed her breasts and began to do it again. The

pleasure flowed through her veins like adrenaline and she let out

a wondrous moan as she climaxed a third time that day. And she

looked down and saw, in fact, her pussy was nearly dripping with

this mysterious liquid.

'What is it?' Debbie asked.

Lydia covered her hands with it and looked at her hands.

She had no idea what it was. Then Debbie took a look at Lydia's

hands. Debbie took some of the liquid onto her own hands and

smelled it.

She winced.

Then Debbie tasted it. It was sweet, like honey. She felt

it coat her tongue, her mouth, and soon her entire throat. She

had not tasted much, but already she could feel its sweet warmth

filling her.

'Debbie?' Lydia asked.

Debbie had never felt like this before. Every cell within

her burned with sudden excitement.

'Debbie...oh my God!'

Debbie knew what Lydia was exclaiming about. She could feel

it. Every bone in her body tingling. Every muscle in her body

throbbing.

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

blouse 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 alive, and were quickly filling up her

blouse. Her erect nipples poked at the material. The spaces

between the buttons widened, revealing two amazing breasts. Her

shoulders broadened too, and too much for her blouse -- the

stitching just gave away, separating her sleeves from the rest of

the outfit. But soon her sleeves were not a problem, as her arms

swelled with muscle and girth. She flexed her biceps and the

muscle just burst right through the fabric. 5'6". 5'7". 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 long, sexy legs. Her thigh muscles

had become too much for her skirt and the denim side seams had

begun to unzip. 5'9". 5'10". The buttons on the front of her

blouse spat away and the clasp on the front of her overstuffed

lace brassiere burst seconds later as her mighty breasts entered

the DD category. 6'2" 6'3" The rest of her blouse fell to the

floor, joined so thereafter by the rest of her denim skirt. Which

left only her white panties. Thick, moist pubic hair filled her

panties, some already sneaking out from underneath. And then the

panties just exploded off her body, and the pieces fluttered to

the floor. 6'7".

Debbie looked at Lydia, who was now maybe an inch shorter

than she.

And then Debbie began to stretch the widest smile that had

ever stretched across her red lips. She and Lydia stared at each

other's magnificent bodies. Mature bodies. Beautiful bodies.

'Not bad for a couple of 13 year-olds,' Debbie said.

'Can you shrink yourself back to normal?'

'Why would I want to?' Debbie walked around the room. The

ceiling was only inches away. She pressed on it with her hands

and easily pushed through the plaster, sending cement snow down

all over her massive body. She laughed and looked down at the

conference table. She lifted her right leg and brought it down on

top of the table, splitting it in two.

'Uh, Debbie?'

'This is awesome!' Debbie cried out.

'But can you shrink back to normal?'

'Who cares? I mean, if I do, maybe I won't be able to turn

back. But why would I want to be different than this? Step aside,

Lydia.'

Lydia was standing between Debbie and the door. And, after

Debbie's request, she was still standing between Debbie and the

door.

'You can't just walk out of here naked and looking like

that!' Lydia said.

'Watch me.'

And Debbie grabbed Lydia's muscular arms and tried to push

her aside. But Lydia resisted.

'I'm bigger than you, Lydia.' And instead of trying to move

Lydia away, Debbie suddenly shoved her back, and through the

door.

Lydia landed in the middle of the guidance office. Mister

Derryman, her guidance counselor, had returned from lunch and was

cleaning some rice pudding off his tie.

'Hi, Mister Derryman,' Lydia said, lying on the floor.

Mister Derryman didn't reply. Instead, Lydia noticed a dark

stain beginning to form around the crotch of his pants.

'Hello, Mister Derryman,' Debbie growled, stepping into the

office.

'Eek,' Derryman finally replied, and he ran into the broom

closet and shut the door.

'See,' Lydia said.

Debbie began to leave the office.

'Where are you going?'

'To teach three girls a lesson they'll never forget. I'm

going to beat them. I'm going to slap them. I'm going to rip

their heads off. I'm going to...I...'

But Debbie stopped. Something was wrong. She could feel the

power draining from her, as if it was suddenly, and quickly,

evaporating away.

'No!' she cried, but it was no use. Her breasts diminished.

Her great muscles withered to nothing. 6'. 5'.

By the time she had returned to her normal 13 year-old

height and figure, Debbie was crying. Lydia stood up. She felt

sorry for her friend, although glad she had not been able to go

on a rampage.

Lydia willed herself back to normal, too, and put back on

her clothes. She gave Debbie the scraps of her destroyed outfit.

'Maybe we can sneak you back to the gym,' Lydia said. 'You

can change into your gym clothes.'

'Thanks,' Debbie said sincerely. She wiped the tears away

from her cheeks. 'I guess I got a little carried away.'

'It's okay. Come on.'

The rest of the day went fairly uneventfully for Lydia.

After saying good-bye to Debbie in the locker room -- Debbie was

going to come over after school -- Lydia actually went to a

couple of her classes. But, of course, she couldn't concentrate

on what was being taught. All she could think about was her

abilities, and the new pleasure, and what that mysterious liquid

from her pussy had been able to do for Debbie.

These were still the only thoughts on Lydia's mind as she

entered her last class of the day -- English -- and sat down in

the back corner, where, as usual, no one ever noticed her, not

even her demonic teacher, Mister Barclay.

Then she saw Chris Sampson walk into the room.

'Oh, God!' she gasped. She had completely forgotten. He was

in this class! Her heartbeat began to race. She knew if she

didn't leave soon, something really bad was going to happen. She

got up from her seat.

'Lydia! Hi!' Chris said, noticing her stand.

And he sat in the chair right beside her.

'Are you feeling better?' he asked. 'I was worried about

you.'

'You were?' Lydia asked. She felt a warmth growing inside

of her, but it wasn't that feared warmth. It was a different,

softer feeling. Her long-sleeve colorful shirt, training bra,

white slacks, black shoes, and panties all continued to fit

perfectly. She sat back down.

'I'm glad you're feeling better,' Chris said, and then

Mister Barclay slithered in.

'Okay, girls and boys. Pop quiz.'

Lydia and Chris both rolled their eyes, noticed each other

doing the same thing, and giggled. Lydia was very smart (this

was, after all, a ninth grade class and she was only a seventh

grader) but every student, no matter how different, shared one

thing in common: a hatred of school. And every student in Mister

Barclay's English classes shared one more thing in common: a

hatred of Mister Barclay.

He passed out the pop quizzes. Lydia finished her in about

a minute, but she didn't want to appear smart, so she sat there

with it and just thought. Occassionally, she glanced over at

Chris, just to get a peek at him. He was so cute!

She began to think of the two of them kissing in her room.

She imagined them lying together on her bed, touching each other.

She ran her hands over him. His thick, throbbing penis. He ran

his hands over her. Her incredible body and deep, wet pussy...

Maybe if she had been aware of it beginning, Lydia would

have been able to stop it. But she was so lost in her fantasies

that 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 two breasts

slowly filling up her shirt. She could feel her nipples

stretching longer and sensitive as they brushed up against the

cotton of her training bra. The pleasure centers erupted again,

and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her thickening

pussy was already becoming moist with that strange liquid, and

was soaking through her tightening panties. She began to rock

back and forth in her chair, completely not in control, lost in

absolute erotic pleasure.

So lost, in fact, that she didn't even hear the fire alarm

ring. The class quickly shuffled out of the room, Mister Barclay

leading them. Of course, nobody noticed Lydia.

Except Chris.

He stood there, 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 he knew it was the

opposite -- she was growing 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 chest, her

magnificent chest. The fabric was being stretched to its limit

now, and Chris could make out her large erect nipples through the

material. Then it happened. A small tear appeared between the two

D-cup breasts. This was a shirt meant to fit a flat-chested 13

year-old girl, not an amazon goddess! 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 in orgasmic

bliss. She absently slapped the desk away, giving Chris a clear

view of her long, open,powerful legs and her wet, wonderful

pussy. He had dreams about women, but none of those fantasy women

even compared to Lydia.

And then she climaxed, and gasped for air. And then she

rose. And then she realized what had happened, and then she saw

Chris, staring at her.

'Oh, no,' she muttered, fearing the worst.

'Hi,' Chris replied, and began to grin.

Lydia laughed. 'Hi,' she said, and she stared down into his

handsome brown eyes.

Lydia couldn't believe it. Finally! 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-and-a-half feet of difference in

their height.

'Lydia...you look amazing,' Chris said.

'Aw,' Lydia replied awkwardly. 'Thank you, Chris.'

She noticed he was staring mostly at her breasts, but she

didn't mind. They were very captivating.

'Touch them,' she said.

'What?'

'Go ahead,' Lydia offered. 'Touch them. I know you want

to.'

And she stepped closer to Chris, practically shoving her

large, perfectly-shaped breasts into his face.

So he did. He placed one trembling hand on each mound, and

slowly caressed it. Lydia felt chills shooting through her 13

year-old body. This...this was her wish. This was what she had

always wanted.

Then they heard the fire alarm ringing again, and knew

everyone else would be back any minute.

'Oh. no!' Lydia cried. She looked around at the desks and

the blackboard and the windows. The only way out was through the

door, and people would start pouring through there in moments.

Desks, blackboard, windows...desks, blackboard, windows...

Windows...

'I'll see you later,' she told Chris.

And, gathering up her shredded clothes, she added, 'Thank

you.'

She opened one of the window and looked out on the parking

lot two stories below. Nobody was there. So she climbed out onto

the ledge and just as the first couple people began to stumble

back into Mister Barclay's English class, she jumped, landing

safely and painlessly on the pavement below.

'Hey, Chris, what were you doing?' one of the students,

bratty, busty blonde cheerleader Stacy Applebaum, crowed.

Chris didn't answer. He just sat back down in his chair and

thought of Lydia.

Lydia returned to her house again, carrying her bike with

her like a suitcase. She put it in the garage and went up to her

room. She really was running out of clothes now. She would have

to convince her sister Maggie to go shopping when she got home.

While waiting, she decided to shower and take a nap. After

everything that had happened to her today, Lydia was exhausted.

Debbie, meanwhile, was walking from school to Lydia's

house. She liked to walk -- it gave her private time, and she

needed time to think. Was the power still in her, she wondered

with a smile. Or was it a one-shot deal? Either way, Debbie knew

she needed more. She had to do it again. When she got to Lydia's

house, they would--

A rock struck her upside the head. She fell to her knees

and looked around to see who had thrown it. And Stacy Applebaum,

one of the Evil Three, was just standing there, laughing her

peroxide-cropped airhead off.

'You're such a loser, Dugan,' Stacy giggled.

Debbie's eyes began to fill with tears.

A car pulled up and a 17 year-old stepped out. He was

wearing a football jersey with his name stiched across it (so he

wouldn't forget it): ROB.

'Hey, sis,' he said to Stacy. 'What's going on?'

'Just picking on a seventh grade loser,' she replied.

Rob glanced over at Debbie, who was sitting on the sidewalk

and crying. He nodded. 'Yeah, well, do you want a ride home? I've

got to get a bite to eat before I go over to Maggie's.'

'For another bite to eat,' Stacy added snidely.

'Well?'

'Go on ahead,' Stacy said. 'I'm not finished here yet.'

'Whatever.' Rob climbed back into his car and drove off.

A wicked grin had appeared on Stacy's face. She bent down

next to Debbie and whispered: 'You and I are going to have some

fun now.' She slid her hand into Debbie's curly black hair.

'Don't you think, puppet?' And she gripped her hair tightly,

forcing Debbie's head to nod in agreement.

A surge of fury replaced Debbie's usual fear. A surge of

energy. Power.

'What are you smiling about, loser?' Stacy asked, spitting

in Debbie's face.

But Debbie could already feel her feet turning her sneakers

into open-toed sandals, and her sweatshirt and pants becoming

very, very snug.

'What's that sound?' Stacy asked, but it was too late.

Debbie grew quickly. Stacy felt Debbie's hair lengthening through

her fingers, and her head rising higher and higher. She backed

away and saw Debbie's clothes just split to pieces, revealing a

tall, beautiful, strong body.

'Uh-oh,' Stacy muttered.

Debbie stood up, so much bigger now than 'tough' Stacy.

Stacy was so stunned that couldn't even utter a word. But

Debbie could:

'Payback time.'

Back at Lydia's house, the doorbell rang. Lydia woke up,

and quickly put on a t-shirt and jeans. Debbie was here! Lydia

scrambled down the stairs, hoping that Debbie was not going to

ask her for some more of that liquid. Some people just couldn't

handle it.

'Heck,' Lydia thought. 'I can't handle it.'

She opened the door.

'Rob!' she said. 'Oh my God!' she thought.

'Who are you?' he asked.

'Huh?'

'Are you Maggie's little sister? Go figure. I didn't know

Maggie had a little sister.'

'Huh?'

'Oh, um, your big sister...what's-her-name...she isn't

here, is she?'

'Maggie?'

'No, the other one. The, um, BIG one.'

Lydia turned around, and then turned back to Rob. 'I guess

not.'

'Oh. Good. Mind if I come in?'

'Sure.'

Rob entered and sat right on the couch again, just like

before. And just like before, he was a handsome young man. But

Lydia didn't care anymore. She looked at Rob and almost wanted to

burst out laughing.

'So, Rob, you want anything to eat?'

Rob paused for a moment, thought about what his sister had

said, and replied, 'Not yet. So, what grade are you in? Fifth?'

The doorbell rang again. It had to be Debbie. Lydia opened

the door.

Stacy Applebaum stumbled in, covered in blood. Her blonde

hair was a grotesque mess; huge patches of it were just missing

from her head. And her dress was a muddy and torn disaster.

Lydia closed the door and helped Stacy to her father's

armchair.

'Stacy!' Rob exclaimed.

'...help...' she muttered, and simply fell unconscious.

'Oh my Lord,' Rob stuttered. 'What should I do?'

Then the doorbell rang again. Lydia opened it. Debbie?

Debbie. A 6'7", naked Debbie. With blood on her hands.

Literally.

'Hi, Lydia,' she sneered.

Rob looked over at the doorway. 'Not another one!' he

cried.

'Hello, Rob,' Debbie whispered seductively.

Lydia closed the door.

'What did you do?' she asked.

'Revenge.'

'You did this?' Rob said.

Debbie nodded. 'Why? You going to do something about it?'

She flexed her massive arms and tensed every muscle in her body,

creating hundreds of vein-rivered hills and valleys across her

huge, feminine body.

'Um, no. Ma'am.'

'Debbie, I can't believe you did this!' exclaimed Lydia in

shock.

'It felt wonderful! And I owe it all to you, Lydia.'

Debbie's words struck Lydia like a poison arrow.

Then the doorbell rang.

'Oh, God, now who can it be?' Lydia asked. She opened the

door.

'CHRIS!'

'Hi,' he said, flashing that amazing smile. 'I saw your

last name on your mailbox. Figured you lived here. May I come

in?'

'Um, I don't know if this is the best time.'

'Hello, Chris,' Debbie purred.

Chris glanced inside the house and saw naked Debbie

standing there in the middle of the hall. Debbie inhaled,

swelling her chest and DD breasts for Chris.

'Holy cow,' he muttered, walking into the house as if

caught in a trance.

'Debbie, what are you doing?' Lydia cried out, and Debbie

just continued to flex and pose, drawing Chris nearer like a fly

to a spider.

In the corner of the room, Rob crouched, cowering. In her

father's armchair, Stacy silently bled.

'No,' Lydia thought. 'This is all wrong. This isn't what I

wanted.'

'Chris!' she yelled.

It broke his spell. He turned to her.

'Lydia.'

'Would you still like me if I wasn't like Debbie? Would you

still like me if I only looked like this?'

'Of course,' Chris said. 'You know I would.'

'What are you talking about, Lydia?' Debbie asked

accusingly.

'This has all been a mistake, Debbie. It's got to stop.'

'Don't you dare!' Debbie threatened. She swung her right

arm, knocking Chris across the room, and took a step toward

little Lydia.

'I'm sorry, Debbie. It's gone too far.'

'I'll break you!' Debbie screamed, and charged Lydia.

Lydia, though, was so small compared to Debbie that she easily

evaded the giantess. Furious, Debbie punched a hole through the

wall. 'I'll kill you!' She ran toward Lydia, slapping aside and

breaking all the furniture between them. Bits of wood were flying

everywhere. 'I'm strong!'

'No, Debbie,' Lydia said. 'Not anymore. This ability is too

much. I wish it was gone.'

'NO!' Debbie screamed, but it was too late. Her strength

and height vanished away from her in seconds, until she was her

ordinary 13 year-old, naked self, bawling in the middle of

Lydia's ruined living room.

Lydia helped Chris to his feet. 'Are you okay?' she asked.

He nodded, and smiled at her. Then, slowly, gradually, they

leaned into each other and kissed.

'We've got to call an ambulance for Stacy,' Chris said.

Then the door opened.

'Hi, honey, I'm home,' Lydia's father said. And then he saw

what had become of his living room, and the bleeding teenager on

his armchair, and the naked teenager on his floor, and her

daughter's boyfriend sucking his thumb in the corner.

And then he fainted.

THE END