“More!” she roared, pounding on the window. She was out of control, determined to go back to the pharmacy that had dispensed the pills. She had downed the entire contents of the bottle, but it had only seemed to make her hungrier for them.
“Wait, honey!” you pleaded, trying to push her away, but you barely even registered to her. The stretching sound started again, and you watched as the denim in her jeans filled up with her thickening legs. She groaned, whether from pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell. She grew taller, her head almost reaching the ceiling, and when you looked up, all you could see was the underside of her bulging, shirt-destroying rack.
She hit the tempered glass again, and the whole house shook. The combination of her jolt and her growth also caused her overstretched ribbed tee to rip, freeing her monstrous breasts and sending them bouncing about. As her hips spread, her jeans split through the seat, and what remained barely looked like capris anymore. You wrapped your arms around one of her legs in a last-ditch attempt to hold her back, and you felt the denim burst beneath your grasp. Her hot, soft, expanding flesh pulsed with growth.
The glass exploded with one final blow. Hunched over, she stepped out into your back yard, at least 15 feet tall and dragging you along for the ride. She paused a moment to look around, awed by her new vantage point, and reached into the sky with a dramatic stretch. Her body rocketed upward, gaining a half-dozen feet and easily shedding her remaining clothes. In long strides, she practically bounded over the retaining wall and onto the highway behind your house. Cars screeched to a halt in front of the craters of asphalt that her feet created, but she paid them no attention. The pharmacy, only a mile down the road, was her target, and you clung to her growing, muscular calf has she raced toward it.
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“More!” she roared, pounding on the window. She was out of control, determined to go back to the pharmacy that had dispensed the pills. She had downed the entire contents of the bottle, but it had only seemed to make her hungrier for them.
“Wait, honey!” you pleaded, trying to push her away, but you barely even registered to her. The stretching sound started again, and you watched as the denim in her jeans filled up with her thickening legs. She groaned, whether from pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell. She grew taller, her head almost reaching the ceiling, and when you looked up, all you could see was the underside of her bulging, shirt-destroying rack.
She hit the tempered glass again, and the whole house shook. The combination of her jolt and her growth also caused her overstretched ribbed tee to rip, freeing her monstrous breasts and sending them bouncing about. As her hips spread, her jeans split through the seat, and what remained barely looked like capris anymore. You wrapped your arms around one of her legs in a last-ditch attempt to hold her back, and you felt the denim burst beneath your grasp. Her hot, soft, expanding flesh pulsed with growth.
The glass exploded with one final blow. Hunched over, she stepped out into your back yard, at least 15 feet tall and dragging you along for the ride. She paused a moment to look around, awed by her new vantage point, and reached into the sky with a dramatic stretch. Her body rocketed upward, gaining a half-dozen feet and easily shedding her remaining clothes. In long strides, she practically bounded over the retaining wall and onto the highway behind your house. Cars screeched to a halt in front of the craters of asphalt that her feet created, but she paid them no attention. The pharmacy, only a mile down the road, was her target, and you clung to her growing, muscular calf has she raced toward it.