Andrew tried to grab the cigarette, and even though she was getting taller by the moment, the girl, whose name was Lindsey, was getting taller still. Andrew’s breasts came back: firm D-cups with plump, tender nipples, but she didn’t have time to watch them grow.
“Gimme that!”
“You want this?” taunted Lindsey. “Then go get it!” She threw it out into the hallway. Andrew hesitated for only a moment and dove after it. She slid like a greased watermelon, gasping and choking on the smoke, but trying to inhale as much as possible.
Andrew’s breasts grew from D’s to E’s, then F-cups. She moaned as her hips spread wider, stretching out her firm, tight ass. Her waist was trim and her skin was tight, but she inhaled the smoke like it was keeping her alive. She got bigger and bigger, her hair stretching down to her waist. Her skin glowed like the skin of a peach, and her long legs kept getting longer, and longer, and longer.
Lindsey made a break for it. She dodged the hall monitors and teachers, as well as regression beams until she got to the border between the middle school and the high school. There was no way to avoid being hit in that long hallway, but Lindsey had the figure of an 18-year-old. When she got hit she regressed only four years. She ran clear down the hall and the teachers couldn’t keep up. Those who didn’t try crowded around Andrew.
“What’s going on?” demanded Mrs. Weaver. Andrew was seven feet tall and had a body like a Greek goddess, but Mrs. Weaver had no trouble recognizing her. “What have you done?”
“Who cares?” Andrew sighed. Her voice was like tinkling bells and her eyes sparkled like the sea. She burned the cigarette down to the filter, growing another two feet. She had to bend over to keep from going through the roof. “You can’t boss me around anymore.”
“We caught her,” said one of the hall monitors. “There’s no place for her to run.”
Suddenly Lindsey walked back around the corner, much smaller than she was even when Andrew met her. “I couldn’t find the door,” she whimpered. “There aren’t any doors. Nothing!” she was still regressing from another blast from the security cameras. “I wanna go home,” she sniffled. “Please, mommy…daddy…where are you?”
Her unflattering green dress fell to her feet. It had more use now as a sleeping bag than as clothing. “Mommy! Mommeeeeeeeeee!” She plunked down on the floor and rubbed her teary eyes were her chubby little fists. “I don’t wanna stay in school, mommy. I wanna go home!”
“We’ll finish her off later,” Mrs. Weaver sighed. “As for you, Andrew…”
“Yeah, what are you going to do? My tits are bigger than your head.”
“Not for long…”