One Week at Wolf Lake NEW 5/31 (Growth, sex, other tags inside)

[qzar9999]

The following story will contain: Growth, sex (F/m, F/f, and masturbation), clothes bursting, miniGTS, GTS, some destruction, and some violence.

Guess who's decided to try his hand at a growth story, folks! The tags may seem a little ambitious but I assure you all that stuff will make an appearance. The shrinking women forums have been reading my stuff for years; I thought I'd see if I could come up with something good in my second-favorite process. ^_^

I actually am going to finish this story; I started it four years ago, thought I lost it in a computer crash, and recently rediscovered it along with my notes for what I wanted to include. I've already got more than half of it written, and I'm making myself work on it at least a little each day. I'm thinking posting it will help me remember that I need to finish what I started...

The idea for this was inspired by somebody who used to be around here but I think he got banned...but his memory lives on, stamped all over this little fictional mountain town.

Without further ado, please enjoy the first two sections of my tale. Bear in mind the growth doesn't begin until the next part...which is already written so I guarantee it's coming.

--------------------

ONE WEEK AT WOLF LAKE
PROLOGUE: SUNDAY DRIVER

The evening air hung cool and still over the two-lane blacktop, bordered on one side by a steep forested hill and on the other by a guardrail. The silence was suddenly broken by a rumbling engine followed immediately by loud rock music. The engine noise was coming from a semi truck hauling a gleaming steel tanker with the words “Talbot-Lucian Chemical” in large blue lettering on the side. The rock music was coming from the cab, where Al Gearman had it blaring. He always turned it up louder on this part of the route—it helped take his mind off the steep cliffside leading down into Wolf Lake reservoir just beyond the guardrail. It was akin to the way people whistled while walking past graveyards. Without the music, he'd dwell on the fact that even a minor error could send the big, awkward vehicle sliding through the thin barrier and into the deep, cold waters of the lake. He hated having to drive Lake View Road, but it was necessary due to the chemical plant's location. The only good thing was that he knew the road meant he was near the end of another run and he could look forward to some time off.

As he rounded a corner onto one of the most nerve-wracking stretches of road—the drop here was nearly vertical—he was startled to see a large fallen tree lying almost perfectly straight across the blacktop. Fortunately it was far enough ahead for him to bring the truck to a safe stop, but he realized that any help could be some time in coming. The road was used almost exclusively by those associated with the chemical plant, and on nights and weekends they only ran a skeleton crew, mostly to accept deliveries. On a Sunday evening, nobody would be coming this way. He had no cell phone reception up here, his radio had been on the fritz this entire run, and the plant wouldn't start looking for him for at least a few hours, since they were already expecting him to be late. Even then, he'd have to wait until some equipment had been brought out here to clear the tree. Unless...

The truck he was driving might be powerful enough to push the tree far enough to let him drive by. It wouldn't be a hazard to anyone else, and he could report it as soon as he got to T-L. He'd have to get out to have a look; he needed to know just how large it was and whether or not it was wedged into the guardrail. He shut off his engine and stepped out of the truck, walking over to the tree to check it out. He was suddenly struck by a sense that something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on what. Shrugging it off, he did a quick investigation of the tree and decided to chance giving it a push. As he headed back to the truck, he again felt a sense of wrongness. Then he saw what was bugging him.

The first thing he noticed was that the heavily forested hill to the left of the road was sporting a large gap that he didn't remember ever seeing before. It began shortly behind his truck and ended right at the fallen tree. He knew there was a logging operation in these woods, but he didn't think they were supposed to clear this close to the road. The other thing he noticed was the enormous log pile balanced precariously at the top of the steep hill. Al was a bit late in getting to this point, however. No sooner had he noticed the logs than a series of loud metallic snapping sounds accompanied the sudden breaking of the chains that held the stack in place. Almost in slow motion, he saw the logs begin to tumble down, heading straight for the truck—and him. For one brief moment he had the crazy idea to run back to the truck and get it out of the way, but he immediately realized there was no time. All he could do was sprint and hope to save himself from the avalanche. The toppling trunks collided with his truck just as he got to the rear axles. He heard the screeching of tortured metal as the tank was smashed inward and the truck was violently shoved against the guardrail, then through it as more trees pounded into the stricken vehicle. Glancing up the hill for just a moment, he thought he saw something behind where the stacked logs had been—and then he felt a brutal impact, and saw only darkness.

Far below, a pile of debris made up of splintered wood, shattered pieces of guardrail, chunks of asphalt, and dislodged stones was settling around the ruined truck. Knowing the dangerous nature of what would be transported in it, the tanker's builders had given much thought to safety and durability; its main tank was even subdivided into several smaller inner tanks. However, its designers hadn't anticipated a pounding like the one it had taken, and the steel had ruptured in places. A bluish ooze was seeping from a few of these tears where one of the inner subsections had also been breached. As the wreck slowly sank into the lake, the slime began to dissolve in the waters of the reservoir...

[qzar9999]

And the second part:

------------------------------

ONE WEEK AT WOLF LAKE
DAY ONE: BLUE MONDAY
CONTAMINATION: 15%

As the host prepared his announcement, the audience held its breath in rapt anticipation. Grinning, he opened the envelope and held the card in front of him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the million-dollar grand prize is...” He paused just a bit too long, in that irksome manner of hosts across the universe. “Carla Cole! Carla, come on up here and claim your prize!”

...beep...beep...beep...

An amazed and ecstatic Carla rose from her seat, for a moment too shocked to walk toward the stage. She recovered quickly, and, smiling from ear to ear, she proceeded through the cheering throng.

...beep...beep...beep...

Stepping up onto the stage, she grasped the microphone, still too stunned to speak. A stagehand moved toward her quickly, carrying one of those huge prop checks bearing her name and “ONE MILLION DOLLARS” in letters large enough to read from space.

...beep...beep...beep...

“I...wow. I just don't know what to say. I never dreamed that--”

...beep...beep...beep...

“I'm sorry, can anyone else hear that? It's kind of annoying, and--”

...beebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebeebee--

The irritating trilling of the alarm clock was abruptly cut off as she violently slammed the snooze button. Carla hated Mondays, which caused her bad habit of sleeping too late, which meant she was always in a rush Monday mornings, which contributed to her hatred of them. She was aware this was a self-sustaining problem, but that wasn't enough motivation to get out of bed and face the day any earlier. Twenty minutes and two snoozes later, she finally dragged herself out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen, her mind on her agenda while her hands made coffee on autopilot. Tonight was the monthly meeting of CHC, so she had to make sure she had the minutes from the last meeting together, as well as having a progress report and a topic list ready for this meeting. The usual queue of weekend injuries and illnesses would be piled up all day long in Dr. Matthews' office, so she wouldn't have time to go over them at work. That meant she was going to have to spend her lunch break, and probably what little free time she'd have this evening, making sure everything was in order.

She reflected, not for the first time, that being the secretary of Citizens for a Healthier Community could be a real pain. Of course, she did a better job of it than anyone else in the group likely would have, and if she hadn't volunteered for it, Vanessa probably would've “nominated” her. At least it was for a good cause, she told herself. Who knew what kind of toxic junk that chemical plant was producing? Somebody had to be a local watchdog; the EPA certainly wasn't doing enough. If the group had their way, of course, Talbot-Lucian would be forced to shut its doors and move somewhere else. Somewhere it wouldn't be so much of a local health concern. The Gobi Desert, for instance, or the dark side of the moon. For now, though, all they could do was protest, watch the company like a hawk, and hope. They encouraged everyone to buy bottled water, or at least purify their household water before drinking it. Not that many people in Wolf Lake took the advice, though. Carla knew she was one of the only residents who had a thorough (and expensive) whole-house filtration system, and she was the only person she'd seen around here bringing bottled water to a restaurant. Even Vanessa only filtered her drinking water instead of her entire home.

Grumbling to herself about the day ahead, she sat down at her table with the notebook she used for CHC meetings. A normal person would be reading the newspaper right now...

[qzar9999]

Next part. As a great man once said, "Into the darkness, so it begins..."

* * * * *

Across town, Vanessa Lewis had an unpleasant awakening of her own. This had less to do with what was ahead of her today and more to do with what was behind her over the weekend. Various muscles in her arms, legs, neck and back were screaming their complaints at her; she was in good shape, but she'd really done a lot of exercise the last few days. Her clerical position at Northwestern Resources didn't involve a lot of labor, and her regular workouts weren't nearly so stressful and never lasted more than an hour or so. She reminded herself that it had needed doing, and it was for a good cause; still, she knew she'd be sore for a few days. Thank God she'd had Jake to help her, or she never would've gotten it finished in time.

She glanced at him, still out like a light and snoring like a buzz saw on his side of the bed. It was amazing she managed to get any sleep at all with that racket. Then again, they'd both been so worn out they were lucky they'd made it to the bed. She sat up and habitually stretched—and was rewarded with another shooting pain in her back. She decided that what she needed was a nice hot shower with the massaging shower head. That might loosen up some of the knots she was feeling. If not, maybe she could get Jake to give her a back rub later. Stepping out of bed (and trying to ignore the twinges of pain in her legs), Vanessa shook out her long, dark tresses, pulled off the old t-shirt she'd borrowed from him, slid off her panties, and entered the bathroom. She was still a bit groggy, so she ran some cold water in the sink and splashed a double handful into her face. It jolted her awake, and she seemed to feel a bit better overall. Maybe being clearheaded could help her deal with the pain. She stretched again, experimentally; there was definitely less pain this time, though it still hurt like hell. She shrugged it off and turned on the shower.

Some time later, having used the massager all over her sore muscles until she could feel the hot water starting to go, she shut off the taps, got out, and dried off. She put on a bra, but when she tried to clasp it, something felt off. Her breasts were 34C, not huge by any means, but she felt like her bra was squeezing them a bit snugly. Then she pulled on her panties and had a similar problem.

“What the hell?” Vanessa said aloud. She pulled them off and checked the tag, just in case, but they were her size. She put them back on, but then the same thing happened with her jeans. “Hmm. I hope I'm not putting on weight.”

Jake's voice issued sleepily from the nearby bedroom. “Wha...? Som' wrong?”

“No, nothing, hon. Just thinking out loud,” she replied. She made a mental note to amp up her workouts for the next week or two—she'd worked hard for her trim physique and didn't want to start gaining pounds out of the blue. She was preoccupied with worry about putting on weight, so she didn't notice the cuffs of the jeans were a bit higher than they should've been.

[Mr Wayne]

QZAR999 is taking a stab at FG writing! *Runs and ducks behind a conveniently placed radiation-proof blast shield, all the while shaking from head to toe*

Just kidding QZ. B-) Seems interesting and well written so far. Should be curious to see what clothing shrinkage and destruction ensues in the near future. Just don't hesitate to add in plenty of instances where the clothes tighten, little by baffling little bit until the rippage begins.

[qzar9999]

Originally Posted by Volfsbayne

Just kidding QZ. B-) Seems interesting and well written so far. Should be curious to see what clothing shrinkage and destruction ensues in the near future. Just don't hesitate to add in plenty of instances where the clothes tighten, little by baffling little bit until the rippage begins.

Hey, first comment on this thread! Thanks, V, I was starting to wonder...

Glad you like it so far. Don't worry- there's gonna be plenty of fabric-related structural failures in this story. I know that first little bit of growth was just a tease, a morsel, but stick around for the main course. ^_^

This next bit doesn't have any growth in it, just some character stuff, but the one after that--Hmm? What was that? I thought I heard someone mention a volleyball team...

* * * * *

Carla was spending her lunch break at the small sidewalk cafe across from Dr. Matthews' office, nibbling on a sandwich while going over her notebook. She stopped and leaned her head back for a moment, removing her glasses and rubbing her eyes to ease the headache that had been building all day. Between these notes and the predictably busy workday, it was promising to be a nasty migraine before it was over.

“Problems, little lady?” said a deep male voice from behind her. She smiled for a moment, then put on her best annoyed expression and turned around to glare.

“Nothing you can help with, and who are you calling little lady, beanpole?” she remarked icily.

He looked down from his impressive height with an irritating grin and fixed his gray eyes on her green ones. “Well, you, obviously, short stuff. See anyone else around here who looks like an extra from The Wizard of Oz?”

She smirked. “I'm sure everyone looks like that from up there in the clouds, Gigantor.”

“Why don't you say that to my face? I'll get you a stepladder.”

“Will!” she gasped in exasperation.

He bent down to kiss her, then, still grinning, took the seat across from her. “Hey, babe. What's up?”

She glared at him again. “You've got your nerve, thinking I want to make small talk with you after you insult me like that.”

“You'd know all about small talk, wouldn't you?” he retorted, still wearing that same expression. She knew he meant it all in good fun, but sometimes it bothered her. He knew her height was a sensitive issue. She'd always been short, and had been picked on for it mercilessly throughout her childhood. It was even more of an issue with her now that she was dating him. She always thought they made an odd-looking couple—Will stood 6'4” and she was just barely 4'11”. She constantly worried that people were staring and whispering behind her back whenever they went out together. He always told her not to worry what everyone else thought, because what was important was that he loved her. It was one of the things she loved—and envied—most about him. He had a natural ability to genuinely not care what other people thought. The unfortunate flip side of this was that he could be lacking in the tact department, even sometimes hurting her feelings while thinking he was just making a joke.

He could also be very perceptive. Dropping the goofy grin, he turned serious. “What's bothering you, hon?”

She sighed. “Oh, nothing much. Just wondering if I shouldn't be getting paid for all this paperwork I'm having to do for CHC.”

“You're having to do that on your lunch break?” He frowned, then cocked an eyebrow. “Better make that overtime pay, then.”

“Well, it's my own fault, really. I had nearly a month to do this—it just kept getting put off. You know how I am sometimes,” she replied.

“Only sometimes?” He dodged the thrown ice cube that was her response.

[Mr Wayne]

*Rubs my hands together, this time with a comment more serious and anticipating than my first one above*

Along for the ride as the location of Wolf's Lake should soon become the epicenter of growth and mayhem. B-)

[qzar9999]

^^ Heh. Mayhem. You wanna see mayhem? Wait 'til I get to the last day...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unless otherwise noted, all characters are 18+.
* * * * *

The shrill whistle echoed across the gymnasium, signaling the end of the practice. Ellen Summers looked at her team with satisfaction—they'd performed well today, and these recent extra practices seemed to be paying off in competition. The Wolf Lake Warriors had a game tomorrow night against the Lions from nearby White Mountain. The Lions were notorious for having some of the tallest players in the region, an edge which they never missed a chance to take advantage of, so the Warriors would need to be at the top of their game. White Mountain High served one of the area's largest towns as well as many outlying communities, so naturally they had the advantage of larger class sizes and more skilled players to choose from. Wolf Lake High, with a much lower population, didn't have the luxury of picking players based on their stature, and the few tall girls in the senior class who would actually be good at volleyball weren't interested. Coach Summers had a hard enough time keeping even ten girls on the roster, and she had to work with what was available. Which was not automatically a bad thing—if anything, the girls played harder than their contemporaries, as if striving to prove size wasn't everything. A prime example was Zara Milos, who had a lean build more suited to gymnastics (a program that Wolf Lake High didn't offer). Opponents often underestimated her, only to learn the hard way how much speed, power, and coordination she possessed. Not to mention her killer jump spike. Dynamite in a small package, indeed.

Still, Summers mused as she watched 5'1” Zara conversing with Susan Knox, who was only a few inches taller, sometimes she wished she had a squad of amazons like White Mountain did.

“Alright, ladies, good work today. Performance like that is what I want to see against the Lions tomorrow.” she said proudly. “Show me tomorrow what you did today and we'll send them packing. I want you to picture the victory in your mind. Visualize going home the winners. Imagine savoring your triumph.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “In fact, hold on to those pleasant thoughts while you hit the showers, because unfortunately, the hot water isn't working.” The expected chorus of grumbles and groans met her announcement.

“Again?” cried Gabrielle Washington, the team captain. “How many times in one school year can this happen?”

Summers put her hands up defensively. “Look, girls, I'm sorry. It's beyond my control. Mr. Clark has assured me he's working hard to get it fixed as fast as possible.”

“Oh, good, middle of next week then,” Anna Garcia chimed in sarcastically. “And we'll probably have hot water for three, maybe even four hours before it breaks again.”

“Hey, be fair. Last time it was at least half a day,” Tiffany Mims said with a grin. “Besides, even if we had it, you'd hog it all anyway.”

“Okay, enough,” the coach interjected. “Just hit the showers already. You can stand here complaining until graduation and it won't do you any good.”

“Yeah,” Alyssa Warren called over her shoulder as the girls strolled toward the locker room. “Because it still won't be fixed by then.” The angry retort from Coach Summers was cut off by the locker room door slamming shut behind them. The girls continued muttering complaints about the school's idea of facilities maintenance while they stripped out of their uniforms, gathered their personal effects, and shuffled off to the showers. Their faint hope that somehow the problem had been fixed and the coach simply not informed was dashed the moment they stepped into the chilly water. The girls kept their showers as short as possible, eager to wrap up in towels and get dressed. Gabrielle was the first to finish, so she was the first to notice the next problem.

“What the hell?” she cried. “Is this school getting even cheaper?”

“That's not possible,” Susan called out. “Why? What's up, girl?”

“Oh, nothing much, except it looks like they're even trying to save money on the towels now. Look at this!” she said, gesturing to herself. The other girls instantly saw what she meant—their usual towels were large enough to cover them nearly from shoulders to knees, but the one wrapped around Gabrielle only stretched from breasts to thighs. As the rest of their showers concluded in the following minutes, they were dismayed to discover they all had the same smaller-than-normal towels. A quick search revealed that all the old ones seemed to have been replaced.

“This is just great,” groaned Denise Willis. “What's next? Are they gonna deflate the volleyballs to save on air?”

“Good thing we don't have to walk home in these, or we'd be arrested,” added Anna. Minutes later, this remark proved oddly prophetic, as the team found themselves struggling to squeeze into too-tight street clothes. Bras wouldn't clasp, panties were uncomfortably tight, and thighs, midriffs and cleavage could be seen everywhere.

“Alright, what's going on here?” said an annoyed Melissa Joiner as she futilely tried to button her jean shorts. “I'd say I must be putting on weight, but that can't explain all of us. And I don't think we all had sudden laundry shrinkage.” She fidgeted with the sleeves of her t-shirt, which were visibly too tight around her arms.

An angry expression crossed Gabrielle's features. “You don't think some practical joke-loving idiot came in here and did something to our stuff, do you? If so, I vote we find him and kick his ass.” She tried without success to cover more of her cocoa-colored skin with her tank top. She sat on the bench and reached for her shoes.

Megan Crane frowned. “I don't know, Gabby, that seems a little unlikely.”

“Well, if you have some other explanation, Meg, I'd love to hear it.” After a brief struggle with her sneakers, she growled in frustration. “Even the shoes! This is ridiculous! Whoever is responsible for this is gonna--”

PING! Gabrielle broke off and reflexively ducked as something bounced off of a nearby locker. She glared at Denise, whose expression went from shocked to sheepish. “It was an accident. I got my top buttoned, but as soon as I tried to breathe, one shot off.” Denise frowned down at herself. “Damn it. This was one of my favorites, too.”

After several more minutes of straining and cursing, the girls decided they were about as dressed as they could get. They were all grateful for the warm day outside, not only due to being more exposed to the elements, but also because most of them had given up on their constricting bras. Zara had been especially mystified; she barely even needed one to begin with being a 34A, but strangely she felt as if her breasts were actually larger rather than her bra being smaller. She shrugged it off and wrote it up as an overactive imagination and wishful thinking. The oddities continued throughout their various trips home—car seats needed adjusting, bikes felt unfamiliar, and things in general looked inexplicably different. To their further annoyance, as time passed, their clothes continued to tighten, and everything felt increasingly off-kilter.

If any of the girls considered the other obvious explanation for the circumstances, they unconsciously rejected it. Of course, soon enough the changes could no longer be ignored...

[Mr Wayne]

Originally Posted by qzar9999

^^ Heh. Mayhem. You wanna see mayhem? Wait 'til I get to the last day...

Qzar9999,

Wait till the last day?!?! Awwwww... Do we have to wait that looong?
Another well written segment and some nice teasing build up to that mayhem just around the corners. Not to mention going from one girl tainted by the water supply to over a dozen more. More slender, unprepared victims, the better. Feel free to just keep writing week after week after week and let the action soar.

*Follows the sexiest volleyball player home, while wearing my inviso-cloak, because I simply can't bear missing any of the tempting.. 'changes'*

[qzar9999]

Well, okay, there's going to be some mayhem before the last day. But if my story outline works out, "Friday" is going to be a madhouse.

And there's gonna be a lot of women exposed to the chemical before it's all said and done. Bear in mind that lake supplies all the town's tubs, faucets, hoses, sprinklers, etc. And it's also their drinking water.

[Mr Wayne]

Originally Posted by qzar9999

Well, okay, there's going to be some mayhem before the last day. But if my story outline works out, "Friday" is going to be a madhouse.

And there's gonna be a lot of women exposed to the chemical before it's all said and done. Bear in mind that lake supplies all the town's tubs, faucets, hoses, sprinklers, etc. And it's also their drinking water.

Qzar9999,

On one hand, I'm befuddled about whether to ship the water to other fictional colleges and towns or to haul ass with bringing as many of those preferable female candidates to Wolf's Lake. A guy can go crazy thinking about such things with only a week's time span! Then again, I already am crazy. I was going to nail you with a smart ass comment about it being Friday already, but it happens to be 48 minutes after midnight. Shucks... ^_^

[BlackHeartDS]

This looks like it's gonna be good.

[qzar9999]

And now, what you've all been waiting for! The first ladies bursting out of their outfits!

...And most definitely not the last. XD

* * * * *

“Striker, this is Wizard, over. Do you read me?”

“Lizard, this is Biker, I read you.”

“No, no. I'm 'Wizard' and you're 'Striker.' Get it right.”

“Whatever you say, Blizzard.”

“Dude, will you quit screwing around?”

“Are you gonna lighten up and have fun or not?”

An annoyed sigh. “Alright, alright, fine, we'll do it your way, Marcus. Look, are you in position yet or not?”

“Yeah, Jason, I'm in position.”

“Do you have a visual on the targets?”

“Oh, I have a visual alright.” A low whistle. “Man, are they hot or what?”

“Bleuugh. Marcus. Don't say things like that. It's disgusting.”

“Hey, it's not like any of them are my sister, man. Good thing, too, it means I'm allowed to appreciate the view.”

“Seriously. Knock it off.” A pause. “Commence attack exactly three minutes from my mark. Ready...mark.”

“Copy that.” Another whistle. “Gorgeous. If they weren't so much older than us I can think of something I'd rather do besides shoot them with a squirt gun.”

“Radio silence, Marcus.”

Concealed at opposite ends of the yard, the boys readied their high-powered water guns for the imminent assault, making sure the ice had sufficiently chilled the water. Near the middle of the yard, in three deck chairs by the pool, sat the objects of their attention. Jason's sister Kim and her two friends were sunning themselves in bikinis, much to Marcus' enjoyment and Jason's irritation. If it had only been the other two girls, he probably would've agreed with Marcus, but he couldn't appreciate them while he was preoccupied with the awkwardness of seeing his sister dressed like that.

“The college certainly picked a beautiful day to cancel classes, right, ladies?” Kim Gaines said lazily. She stretched and shifted in her deck chair to get more comfortable.

“Couldn't agree more. Perfect tanning weather,” replied Jenna Cooper. “Speaking of tanning...” She turned over and lay face down in the chair.

“Don't you think so too, Danni? ...Danni?” Kim turned her head. Danielle Bennett had a large sun hat over her face. Kim lifted the hat and Danielle jerked upright instantly.

“Huh? What? What is it?” she said, blinking furiously.

“Oh, nothing. Just saying what a nice day it is today.”

“Well, it was a nice day. Then you woke me up,” said Danielle with exaggerated annoyance. “I was having a nice dream, too. Don't you know it's bad luck to wake somebody from a pleasant dream?”

“Oh, no, now I'm cursed with terrible bad luck!” Kim put on a horrified expression, which quickly shifted to a grin. “Get a grip, Danni. We've had nothing but good luck today. Right here, right now, what could possibly happen to us?”

As if on cue, Jason and Marcus broke cover and dashed at their unsuspecting targets. Screaming battle cries, they blasted their victims with high-pressure streams of icy water. The three friends were so stunned at the sudden attack and the cold that they didn't react for a few seconds—long enough to get drenched. The boys, laughing like madmen, sprinted away as the girls leapt up from their chairs, shivering and furious.

“JASON!” roared Kim. The soaked coeds took off in pursuit of the pair, but they hadn't gone far when Jenna began to slow down, and finally stopped altogether. She called to Kim and Danni to wait on her for a moment. “What's the matter, Jen? You can't be tired so fast,” Kim said in puzzlement.

“No, it's not that.” Jenna grimaced and squirmed, tugging at the bottom of her bikini. “It's my suit. It's like it's...I don't know, it's like a wedgie or something.”

Danni smirked. “That's what you get for wearing floss. Especially trying to run in it. Now you know why I don't wear thongs.”

“No, you don't wear thongs because you don't have the ass to get away with it.” Jenna continued pulling at the suit, trying to fix her problem.

“There's nothing wrong with my ass, Jenna. I just don't feel the need to put it on public display.” Danni unconsciously adjusted her own bikini as she noticed Kim fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. “Kimmy? Something wrong?”

“My suit feels funny too,” replied Kim. “And I'm not wearing a thong like she is. I guess these things just aren't cut out for running.”

“Ouch! This thing is killing me!” cried Jenna. Suddenly she let go of the bottom and starting pulling at the top. “Great, now it's my top too.”

Danni started feeling a pinch from her own swimsuit. “Me, too. What's going on here?”

Meanwhile, Jason and Marcus, realizing they were no longer being chased, had backtracked until they were watching the trio from around the corner of the house. “Why do you think they stopped?” Jason whispered. “What's the deal?” After a long pause with no reply, Jason said his friend's name a few times trying to get his attention. Marcus, however, was unable to take his eyes off of the women. Jason hadn't looked much because of his sister, but Marcus had been all but staring for quite some time that afternoon. He could easily tell that the bikinis were much tighter on the girls than they had been earlier. As he watched in fascination, they appeared to be getting even tighter. The swim wear didn't leave much to the imagination to begin with, but now the bikinis were so clearly defining every inch of the three women that they might as well have been transparent. No sooner had he thought this than Jenna's thong suddenly snapped off. She yelped and covered herself with her hand, but not before he'd gotten a look. He glanced up at her curly blond tresses and had a fleeting thought—so that's what that expression means—then got another eyeful as the straps on Danni's shoulders broke and her top flew off.

“Oh my God! What the hell? What did those two creeps do to us?” screamed Kim as her swimsuit also disintegrated. The trio were doing the best they could to cover themselves with their hands, but that was only so effective. “Jenna, go get the towels. We need something to cover up with.” As the blond ran toward the chairs, still awkwardly trying to keep her hands in place, Kim glanced at the corner and saw Marcus goggle-eyed and practically drooling while a frantic Jason (who was a bit more aware of the situation) was pulling at him, trying to get him to run. “Jason! We're gonna KILL you for this!”

“Um, Kim, don't you think we should get dressed first?” said Danni as Jenna returned and handed her a towel. “Hey, I thought these were beach towels!”

“They are,” replied Jenna as she tried to arrange one around her body.

“Smallest damn beach towels I've ever seen, then,” grumbled Danni. “Did you get them from a discount store or something?”

Marcus snapped out of his trance and the boys sprinted away. Kim stared daggers after them as the girls clutched the inadequate towels and headed for the house.

Some time later, the boys were taking turns on a shooting game at Vic's Arcade. “Man. How much longer, do you think?”

“I have no idea. They were really angry.”

“Yeah, I know, but we've been here for three hours already. I'm running out of quarters,” complained Marcus. “Technically, I could go home.”

“Yeah, you could,” replied Jason. “And if you do, and abandon me to them, I'll tell them that it was you who did something to their swimsuits.”

“You know as well as I do that neither of us did anything. We don't know what the hell happened.” He paused, and a broad smile spread across his face. “Not that I'm complaining. I enjoyed the show. I mean, did you get a look at those boobs?”

“Dude! My sister! Seriously!” A blaring noise issued from the machine. “Damn it. You broke my concentration. Game over. Your turn.”

“Oh, I'd say it's game over for both of you,” said an angry female voice from behind them.

“Uh-oh.” Jason gulped as the pair turned to face the speaker. “Look, Kim, we're sorry if—HOLY SHIT!”

Jason was used to his sister being taller than him. She was a few years older, so that was normal. However, he wasn't used to his sister being two feet taller than him. The last thing he expected to face when he turned around was a seven-foot version of his angry big sister. A quick glance to either side showed Danni and Jenna to be of similar stature. They were practically bursting out of the clothes they were wearing—clothes that had fit fine when they'd come over earlier. He looked at Marcus, and, as expected, he was too busy staring to be of much help. He probably didn't even realize how much trouble they were in...