Amy just wanted to stand out a bit, and the first way to do that which came to mind was what escaped her lips: "I wish I had larger breasts," she said.
With that, the surface of the mirror suddenly fogged up, catching Amy by surprise and causing her to take a step back.
The fog cleared as soon as it had appeared. Trying to figure out what was going on, Amy scratched her head, as the image in the mirror did the same. She couldn't figure it out, so she shrugged -- and noticed that the breasts on the mirror image wobbled just a little bit more than they should.
Amy stood still, and the growth was obvious, albeit slow. She was literally watching her breasts swell, but as a quick touch of her hands to her chest revealed -- followed by an even quicker peek down the collar of her gray T-shirt -- the growth was only happening in the mirror.
And then something else happened. The mirror Amy's shirt changed, from a standard T-shirt into a sleeveless V-neck, and as Amy was transfixed by that, she also noticed the cuffs at the bottom of her jeans traveling upward, the material changing from blue denim to what looked like black cotton -- she was wearing capri pants in the mirror, and her tennis shoes with white socks had become a pair of black slip-ons. Amy had to once again look down at her real self to verify that she'd only changed clothes in the mirror.
"Lina should see this," Amy thought. She looked around for her friend but didn't see her anywhere nearby, and she certainly didn't want to leave her position at the mirror yet. By the time she turned her attention back to her transforming reflection, it now had what was definitely a noticeable pair of breasts, on the large side of a C cup.
But still the growth continued, slowly. The capri pants merged together and the hem crawled up her legs until it stopped as a sensible skirt just above her knees. The shoes gained a low heel, which meant the reflection was now a little taller than the real Amy, although it was still mimicking her movements exactly. Large silver hoops dangled from the reflection's ears, and Amy moved her hands up, but felt only the gold studs that were in her own ears -- which meant she was looking right at the reflection's ears as several more piercings appeared in each one, all filled by small silver hoops.
The more striking change, though, was that the reflection's brown hair suddenly rearranged itself, morphing out of Amy's flat and mousy shoulder-length non-style and into a bob, the ends of the hair swept forward toward her cheeks. Amy actually caught herself gasping at how cute -- no, sexy -- the style looked.
It was starting to look like the reflection was smuggling fruit down her shirt. And that shirt's V-neck dipped downward as a tie appeared, lacing it closed, but with a nice amount of cleavage showing through. The bottom of the shirt was creeping upward to reveal the reflection's stomach, complete with a silver charm dangling from a pierced navel. Amy's hand went straight to it on her own body, but all she felt was her own shirt; it was a lot sexier on the reflection, caressing her body.
The reflection's skirt had shortened considerably, and it now laced up on the sides to match the shirt. The heel on the shoes had raised up a couple more inches, and then the entire shoes elevated themselves, gaining a platform of what looked like three or four inches. Sheer black stockings faded into existence on the reflection's legs, ending with a lace top that was visible just below the hem of the skirt.
Amy looked back upwards, and now it looked like the reflection was smuggling a pair of melons. Because of the height difference, she had to look up to see the reflection's face, which was a little annoying because it meant the reflection was looking upwards as well. But she could tell the reflection now had longer, darker eyelashes, several colors of eye shadow spread on thick, artificially pink cheeks, and overly glossy red lips.
A tattoo of a ring of flowers had appeared around her left upper arm, and a few metal chains had appeared around her neck. One of them had letters attached, spelling "A," "M," "Y" vertically down into her cleavage. Amy remembered where she'd seen something like that before -- Christina Aguilera had favored similar necklaces that read "XTINA" a few years back -- and that memory caused Amy to wonder, "So is this thing showing me that I'd become a total slut if I had bigger boobs?"
Those boobs were now about the size of largish honeydew melons amd still slowly swelling. Amy remained mesmerized, not wanting to look away and miss what might happen next. Unconsciously, she ran her hand through her hair, and the reflection did the same, although it was a hand with a manicured talon at the end of each finger, not to mention a silver ring on each one.
A small silver hoop appeared in her right -- no, the reflection's left nostril. This time, instead of touching herself, Amy reached forward toward the reflection. She had to reach up toward the nose -- those ridiculously high platform shoes on the reflection -- and the reflection reached up and outwards, too.
Amy touched the mirror with her fingertips, and found that its surface was like liquid -- very sticky liquid that seemed to be slowly drawing her hand in. The more she struggled, the more her hand felt like it was being caught in a pile of ooze. She tried pulling on her arm with her other arm, but that didn't work. She didn't want to call for help yet, assuming she'd be yelled at for touching the merchandise, and so she decided she'd first try one big pull to get out, 1, 2, 3...
sShe was stuck so tight that the act of pulling knocked her off-balance, sending her running toward the mirror, and due to the height difference, the last thing she saw was the silver letters "A," "M," "Y," rushing toward her as she was swallowed up by --
No, wait, she realized, she was standing next to the mirror. It almost seemed like she had gone through, but -- she turned to look, and saw the silver frame on its stand, but there was no glass in it, no wood, no nothing. She looked down at her hands, which weren't stuck in anything -- she watched the inch-long white-tipped nails move as she wiggled her fingers.
And then she stared down into a canyon of cleavage, her gigantic breasts being barely contained in a tiny gray shirt.
And then she screamed. Within seconds, she saw Lina running toward her from another aisle.