Becky drops the pendant lightly into the recharging box and steps backward, tugging on her right hand to remove a thumb ring.
She bites her lip, and mutters to herself: "Next time, I'm gonna need to just pull my little clothes off before the necklace..."
One quicker, harder jerk and the silver band is in her left hand. She smiles at it, and sighs.
"Saves me money when I don't burst out of my jewelry or my..."
As if to answer her own sentence, her thickening thighs start bulging out of her nylons, creating a score of runs up and down them. She grins at them as she continues to get taller, thicker, and more voluptuous again.
The nylons strain quicker and louder, each one emitting an odd "Za-scriff!" noise upon becoming completely unwearable again.
She drops the ring into a pocket in her suit jacket, and then she quickly pulled it off, dropping it onto the floor.
She put her hands on her expanding hips as she ascended and expanded into her true self. She sighed annoyedly but patiently as she felt her breasts swell up in her bra, filling out the small B-cup she wore when she was "just blending in." She quickly blew up to a mid-size D-cup, straining much against the B-cup. She didn't mind the pressure on her breasts, however, and would sometimes leave one of her "blendingtime" bras on while she was "real."
Ha! She thought to herself. Real. Uh, yeah they're real. You're a fake for thinking that pickup line could work, little man. She'd been through that scenario dozens of times. Drunks.
She bent down to grab her pumps and jacket off the floor, and heard another stretching noise. She closed her eyes and puffed up her cheeks, blowing air out her mouth angrily. "Damnit!" she uttered. "Skirt! Skirt!"
She now more carefully bent down and picked up her things, and headed into her bedroom.
She dropped the jacket and shoes onto her bed, then turned to her closet mirrors.
She was still growing back to normal.
Again she put her hands on her hips, and stared into the mirror as she finally approached "real size."
The tip-top of her forehead disappeared in the reflection as her growth stopped.
Now back to her normal size, she stretched and yawned. At 6'5", she was definitely capable of stretching. Her now much-too-small bra was also stretched out, now that she was back to being 40D-34-44.
She looked at herself in the mirror, looking like a "bad guy" female character out of a comic book... tight, tight shirt... short, SHORT, tight skirt... and the ruined runs in her nylons graphing an interesting pattern onto her long, long legs.
She ran her fingers through her hair and headed into the bathroom to take two aspirin for relief of the headache and growing pains she always got when growing back, today intensified after working a double-shift at the office.
She downed the pills, and then looked at herself in the mirror, crouching just slightly. Cocking her hips to the left caused her "blendingtime"-size skirt to sound another ripping sound. She then grinned, slowly, wider and wider until she bared her teeth, including the long canines that further enhanced her "extreme bad girl" looks.
"Hell of a life you live, Miss Becky." She uttered. "Hell of a lifestyle."