Quickie: "Cheer UP" (with a note to Wolf Lake fans)

[qzar9999]

Wrote this as a brief aside, trying to get my engine running again so I can get back to work on my much longer story. Not to worry, it's not dead; I expect to continue on it in September. I got really busy for a little bit...and then I realized I just needed a fucking break from it, ya know? Sorry to keep you all waiting; hopefully this little vignette works as a sort of make-up present. Enjoy!

* * * * *

Mrs. Gaines sighed exasperatedly at the slim young brunette who had just walked into her class late and casually strolled to her desk as if nothing was wrong. "Miss Cavanaugh," she said, staring flatly at the tardy senior, "would you mind explaining why you're late to my class? And why you're wearing that uniform?"

Britney Cavanaugh glanced down at her blue-and-white cheerleading outfit beneath her light blue jacket before looking back up at the teacher with a nervous smile. "Sorry, Mrs. Gaines. Coach Everett told the squad we have a surprise practice right after school. As head cheerleader, I have to be there early and ready to go, so I had to change into my uniform. That's why I was late. I'm really sorry."

"Well, I suppose it's not really your fault," the teacher replied. "Just see to it that it doesn't happen again."

"It won't," Britney said. "Um...by the way...since this is last period, I kinda need to get out a little early to be at practice, too..." she added sheepishly.

Mrs. Gaines sighed again. "I swear, the athletic coaches at this school think they run everything..." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, silent for a moment. "Fine. Fine. But I'm having a word with your coach later. Now, as I was saying, towards the end of the Renaissance, there was an emerging trend of..."

Britney pulled her textbook out of her backpack set it on the work surface of her desk/chair combo, and flipped through it, searching for the pages that corresponded to what her teacher was talking about. Her cheeks burned slightly with the embarrassment of being called out in front of the class like that, but she understood Mrs. Gaines' annoyance. Truthfully, she wasn't all that thrilled to be in class in her uniform anyway; she'd always felt the cheerleading outfit was a little too revealing, and most of the classrooms tended towards the chilly side of climate control. That was why she had slipped on the jacket, but there wasn't a lot she could do about her legs being exposed to cold air and lustful glances.

Making herself comfortable in the chair, she slipped off her sneakers, as was her habit during classes. She smoothed her skirt down over her thighs as she leaned over her backpack again. She grabbed her water bottle, pen, and notebook out of it, then sat up, placing the items on the desk. She frowned at the bottle in confusion, realizing it wasn't a brand she recognized. This one's label showed an idyllic lake surrouned by trees with a mountain in the background--not a particularly unusual image on bottled water labels, to be sure--but the name, in electric blue lettering, read "Wolf Lake Sparkling Water." The back of the label had some marketing blurb about the beautiful natural lake that Britney was sure the water in her bottle had never been within 100 miles of, along with a copyright registered to some company called Talbot-Lucian. Where did this come from? she thought, trying to remember when she might have purchased the unfamiliar brand.

"Miss Cavanaugh!" Mrs. Gaines' voice barked, interrupting her train of thought. "Today's tardiness may not have been your fault, but a lack of attention most certainly is!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Gaines," she replied, her cheeks flushing again at a few snickers around the room.

"If you weren't too busy daydreaming, perhaps you could tell me one of the events that's credited with ending the Italian Renaissance?"

Britney thought for a moment, trying to recall the previous day's lesson. "Um...the Bonfire of the Vanities?" she said.

Her teacher's frown decreased in severity. "Good. Now, following that event..."

Britney focused on the lecture and began taking notes. Absently, she cracked the cap on her water bottle and took a big gulp, its strange label forgotten. She was following along with Mrs. Gaines intently to avoid being embarrassed yet again, so at first, the peculiar warmth and itching that began to spread over her skin went unnoticed. As it started to increase in severity, she found herself putting down her pen to scratch her arm through the jacket sleeve, or tug at her collar to try to relieve the hot, prickly sensation around her neck. At one point, she'd even surreptitiously rubbed her hands along her thighs to soothe their strange tingling (after which she'd smoothed her skirt self-consciously and hoped nobody had noticed). As the unusual warmth built, she took another big sip from the water bottle, hoping the cool liquid would ease her discomfort, then returned to taking notes.

She tried to keep her attention on Mrs. Gaines, but the warmth, itching, and odd tingles only continued to get worse. Britney finally put her pen down entirely and started scratching at herself with both hands. The sensations seemed to be especially bad where her jacket sleeves met her skin, and she soon found herself alternating between her left hand on her right arm and vice versa.

She was startled by the sound of a throat clearing very close to her. She jerked her head to the left and saw her classmate and fellow cheerleader Morgan leaning over and staring at her with one eyebrow cocked. "Are you okay?" Morgan asked, her eyes flicking over Britney's arms.

Embarrassment washed over Britney, adding to the heat she was already feeling. "Fine. I'm fine. Just...my jacket is making me itch. I'm fine."

"Okay..." Morgan replied, sounding unconvinced. "See you at the practice, Brit." So saying, she sat up again, returning her gaze to the teacher.

Stupid jacket, Britney thought, still blushing furiously. She bent her arms, attempting to take the jacket off...and was shocked when she couldn't seem to slide it off of her arms. Puzzled, she flailed about with it a bit--trying not to think of the attention she might attract--before finally bringing her arms forward again. Gripping the left cuff of the jacket, she tugged it firmly with her right hand while pulling her left arm back. For some reason, the jacket seemed unusually tight, as if it was pulled taut around her forearm. She had a very hard time pulling her left hand through the cuff, but she finally managed. Her arm immediately felt cooler and less itchy, and she was eager to have the jacket completely off as fast as possible. She swung it around behind her and repeated the process with her right arm.

At least, she tried to. Bizarrely, the right sleeve seemed even tighter, and try as she might, she couldn't get her hand through the cuff. Gritting her teeth in exertion, she gave a mighty tug...and was shocked to hear a tearing sound come from the garment as her right hand finally went up the sleeve. Her eyes wide in confusion and surprise, she held the sleeve up and saw the cuff had torn, along with some of the stitching where it met the sleeve of the jacket. The sleeve looked oddly undersized in her hand, as if the jacket was a size too small. Additionally, her right wrist had a welt, as if the material had been digging into it. What the hell?

Suddenly, a shooting pain went through her left hand, causing her to drop the jacket. "Ow!" she shouted.

"Miss Cavanaugh, was that outburst really necessary?" Mrs. Gaines was scowling at her pupil. "Or are you merely trying to set a record for most classroom disruptions in one day?"

"No, Mrs. Gaines, I'm sorry. My hand just hurt really--Oww!" she shrieked again, staring at the small silver ring on her pinky. It seemed unbearably tight on her finger all of a sudden. Grabbing it with her right hand, she pulled hard on it, but it seemed stuck. "Ow ow OW!" she cried, finally managing to pull the metal band past her knuckles and slip it off. She shook her hand rapidly, trying to ease the pain, as she stared at the angry red line at the base of her pinky.

Belatedly, she realized every eye in the room was again on her. "I'm sorry! Really! Last time, I promise," she said, smiling hopefully at the teacher.

Mrs. Gaines pinched the bridge of her nose again. "You're on thin ice, Miss Cavanaugh. One more disturbance in my class and I'll have you sent to the office, with explicit instructions to detain you until you've missed your practice. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes, Mrs. Gaines," she stammered, wishing she could disappear. She tried to duck down into the chair, making herself seem as small and unobtrusive as possible, and was mortified when the wooden desk creaked loudly. Something about it felt strange, too, as if she wasn't sitting quite right in it, but she tried to focus again on the lecture.

Maddeningly, the heat, tingling, and itching began to worsen again. The tingling was everywhere, but the heat and itching were mostly coming from under her cheerleader's uniform. Britney almost felt as if every inch of her clothing was constricting on her and rubbing against her skin. She tried to shift around, hoping to relieve even a little bit of the sensation, but was rewarded only with more creaking sounds from the chair. She stopped at a half-heard snarky comment about her weight and simply sat there, fuming. She took another big sip from her water bottle and tried to force herself to pay attention to class.

Strangely, even sitting still, she could still hear the occasional creak from her chair. It seemed to be getting gradually more uncomfortable, too, and she suddenly realized there was another noise as well--the faint whisper of straining fabric. Puzzled, she looked down at her desk and herself, trying to see where the sounds might be coming from. She did a double-take when she looked down in her lap, then stared down, blinking several times and trying to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

It was hard to tell sitting down, but the skirt of her uniform looked like it was too high. As she stared, the hem seemed to slide up just a little more, and suddenly her lightly tanned thighs gave way to a much paler region. It took her a moment to realize this was the tan line from her short-shorts, which were at least four inches shorter than the skirt was supposed to be--and uncomfortably close to her groin. Alarmed, she reached down into her lap and tried to pull the skirt lower, but it wouldn't go. Indeed, as if spiting her efforts, the hem seemed to climb even higher! She pulled a little harder...and froze when she heard a faint ripping noise, her face going pale in sudden apprehension. She gulped nervously and released her grip on the skirt, praying there wasn't a rip somewhere really revealing. Curiously, even after she stopped pulling on the skirt, it still looked taut, as if it were stretched a little too tightly over her thighs. What's going on? she thought, looking down at her outfit, utterly perplexed. A moment later, her eyes practically bulged out of her head when she registered another change.

Her breasts were bigger.

This wasn't a small change, either. Britney wasn't by nature a highly superficial person, but neither was she a fool: she knew that a cheerleader's looks mattered, and she was very familiar with how her boobs looked in the outfit. What she was seeing now were two orbs that were at least a cup size larger than the 34C's she was supposed to have. The top bulged around the unfamiliar curves, a significant amount of cleavage showing in its neckline. As she stared in shock and fascination, she could actually see them slowly swelling! The neckline of the outfit stretched wider and wider as her mounds ever-so-slowly pushed harder against it, the valley of cleavage getting deeper and being exposed more as she watched. She realized, belatedly, that the faint whispering, stretching sounds seemed to be coming from the fabric of her top. In absolute disbelief, she lifted a hand to one of the impossible globes and squeezed it faintly, her mind reeling when the warmth and pressure of her hand were transmitted through the breast that simply couldn't be hers. What the hell is happening to me? She realized that she could also feel the constricting pressure of a bra that was meant for smaller boobs digging into her new figure. Come to think of it, her whole top felt too tight, as did the waist of her skirt. No wonder she was so hot and itchy--she felt like she was somehow wearing a junior varsity cheerleading outfit!

"Hey, if you need any help with that, I can lend a hand. Or two," leered a student named Jason from next to her.

She jerked, startled, as she realized he had seen her fondling her own breast. Embarrassed anew, she dropped her hand, feeling her cheeks flush again (which only intensified the heat she felt inside her t00-small uniform). "Fuck off, perv," she hissed.

"I'm a perv? You're the one playing with your own tits in the middle of class," he said with a sneer. "Whatever. You cheerleaders. Always flashing the goods, then getting offended when someone looks." He glanced down at her thighs and snickered. "Heh. Speaking of flashing the goods..."

"What? What are you--eep!" Britney yelped (quietly) as she looked down at her lap. Her skirt had continued its rise, and now was high enough up her thighs to show off the bottom of her silky blue panties. Not only that, but they also looked too tight and were outlining her pussy in detail--Jason was getting an eyeful! Mortified, she tried to tug the skirt down again automatically and heard a much louder rip, followed by the faint sensation of cool air on skin near the small of her back.

"Oh god..." she breathed, knowing where the skirt must have torn. She leaned forward and reached her hand behind her (which was an unexpectedly tight fit between her back and the chair, even though she had her growing boobs pressed against the desk) and her fears were confirmed: the back of the skirt had torn several inches down, showing off the back of her panties to the students sitting behind her through the gap between the chair's back and its bottom. Her anxiety only increased when she heard a few more tearing sounds coming from not only the skirt, but her top as well. A quick, faint pop near her ear drew her attention, and she glanced at the shoulder of her sleeveless top to see a seam had failed. A few more pops came from below, near her waist, and she dreaded to think how many holes her outfit might have now. She heard another sound further below, followed by several more, and was surprised to feel coldness on her feet as well. Wiggling her toes experimentally, she felt several holes in her socks.

The sensation of cool air at her back suddenly began to spread, circling her entire waist and creeping up her belly. She tried to glance down to see what was happening, but her breasts had grown even more, stretching the neckline to its limits and revealing an almost obscene amount of cleavage. Between her inexplicably massive mammaries and the curiously too-close desktop (which was almost against her belly even though she was now straight-backed in the chair), she couldn't see her waist. However, the stretching sounds from the top were much louder now, and a quick check with her hand told her the hem of her top was rising from the waist of her skirt, inexorably climbing to reveal more and more of her midriff. She was torn by indecision--she really wanted to go change, but getting up meant Mrs. Gaines calling her out again, as well as her torn skirt showing off her panties to more of an audience. She sat in the ill-fitting chair, paralyzed, hearing more small rips and pops from her outfit. Seconds later, the decision was no longer in her hands.

"Jesus Christ!"

Startled, she looked to her left to see Morgan staring slack-jawed at her. It took a few seconds for her to realize that she was looking down at Morgan--the other cheerleader was only supposed to be about two inches shorter, but to Britney, though both of them were seated, she seemed to be eye-level to her colossal, shirt-straining tits. Speaking of the twins, they'd gotten even larger since she last looked; she couldn't estimate their size very well since (a) they were larger than any boobs she'd ever seen and (b) they were being compressed by her comparatively tiny bra and top, but she knew they had to be at least 44EE's...if she had been her normal size. However, the obvious discrepancy between her height and Morgan's suggested that Britney had to be at least six feet tall sitting down in the cramped little desk.

"Oh my god! Morgan, what the hell is happening to me?!"

Morgan's mouth moved a couple of times, her head shaking in disbelief. "......Like I fucking know?" she finally cried.

"Miss Cavanaugh, what's going on back what the fuck?!" Mrs. Gaines screeched from the front of the room. Britney turned in wide-eyed panic to see the teacher, like everyone else in the classroom, was fixated on her.

"I'm...I'm...I gotta go!" she wailed. She tried to stand up and bolt from the room...only to find herself stuck in the desk, its structure closed tightly around her exposed midriff, her knees painfully pressing against the tabletop. The wood creaked, groaned, and made ominous cracking sounds as she squirmed. Her feet scrabbled uselessly on the tile floor, further shredding her tightening socks and chilling her as the cold tile met her bare toes. "Oh fuck! Help me! I can't get out of the desk!"

Nobody moved to help her, possibly because most of them were in shock at what they were seeing. Her top was now pushed and lifted out in front of her by her humongous hooters, and its neckline was tearing downward, heading rapidly for the bottom edge of the garment. As she struggled to escape her seat, her breasts jiggled with her movements; a loud snap and a release of pressure she hadn't even realized she was feeling signaled the end of one of her bra straps. "Please, no..." she moaned futilely as the top finally split and flew off of her as if it was exploding, revealing a bra still trying valiantly to hold back nearly literal watermelons.

Her skirt wasn't faring much better. She could feel the tear in its back widening as her waist and hips grew bigger and bigger within it. Her panties were being drawn tightly between her expanding ass cheeks and turning quickly into a thong. "Oh no! No no noooooohhh..." Her final exclamation devolved into a curious moan as the panties slipped between her nether lips and the pain of an impending wedgie mixed curiously with a very different sensation as the fabric slid along her pussy. Her eyes crossed and her mouth opened in a gasp; simultaneously, she could feel the heat of a blush spread over her increasingly exposed skin as even more embarrassment than ever swept over her, compounded by her skirt finally failing completely a moment later.

Britney's feet, now bare and stretched out in front of her, began to slide the next row of desks forward. This finally prompted a reaction from some of the other students, who stood up (still staring at her in amazement) and started to back away, heading towards the front of the room, where Mrs. Gaines still stared dumbfounded at her. Spurred by their actions, her remaining classmates stood up and began moving as well, creating an ever-widening ring of empty desks around the amazing colossal cheerleader, whose expanding form began to push more of them aside. The incoming students seemed to jolt the teacher out of her stupor.

"Okay, students...back away from her. Uhh...be ready to leave the classroom if necessary," she said, staring at Britney as she spoke to the approaching students. "In fact," she added, tapping one boy on the shoulder, "you...go get the school nurse."

"Are you kidding?" the boy said with a smirk. "She's just about to bust out of everything! I wanna see those huge--" He stopped speaking as Mrs. Gaines fixed him with a glare. "Um. Yes ma'am, Mrs. Gaines. I'll be right back."

Satisfied, the teacher returned her attention to Britney. "Miss Cavanaugh...stop..." She trailed off for a moment, as if unable to believe what she was saying. "Stop...growing! Stop this at once!"

"I can't!" cried Britney. Her desk cracked loudly, followed by a sound like snapping elastic and a loud ripping noise. "Aaah! No!" she screamed as her bra finally fell apart. She shrieked and tried to cover her boobs with her arms, but they were so big that they bulged out around her limbs. Another, even louder crack came from her desk, followed by a splintering sound as the tabletop finally separated from the base, forced apart by her expanding midsection. The surface flew several feet forward, hitting another desk with a loud bang. Before Britney could try to get up again, though, the chair beneath her collapsed, dropping her gracelessly ass-first onto the floor. The impact seemed to be the last straw for her overstressed panties, which snapped loudly apart, leaving the head cheerleader totally nude.

"Oh god!" she cried, moving one hand to cover her groin as her unbelievable growth continued. Her head pressed against the acoustic tiles, causing them to shift and dislodge, falling around her as she stared at her increasingly tiny classmates. "When is this going to end?" In a few more seconds, she had her answer. Her growth slowed and finally stopped, leaving her 25 feet tall, naked, with positively enormous breasts, sitting splayed in a circle of knocked-over desks, the top of her head grazing the ceiling through a hole in the acoustic tiles.
Moments later, the school nurse barged into the room, being pursued by the excitedly babbling young man Mrs. Gaines had sent to retrieve her. She was angrily frowning as she marched up to Mrs. Gaines. "Janet! This maniac burst into my office and hauled me here, talking some nonsense about a--" She turned to follow Mrs. Gaines' stunned gaze. "...giant cheerleader," she finished softly several seconds later.

* * * * *

"Bullshit!" Katy said with a laugh.

"No, really! That's why they're renovating room 114!" Jason protested. "I was there! I saw Britney bust out of her clothes!"

"Yeah, sure," his friend said, rolling her eyes. "Sounds like some weird fantasy you concocted. Giant women. Ha."

"Look, if you don't believe me, go ask Morgan!" he said, pointing a few tables down in the cafeteria.

Katy glanced toward the table he'd indicated. Sure enough, the replacement head cheerleader sat there with a few of her friends, sipping at a bottled water with an unfamiliar label. "Jason, if I do that, one of two things will happen. She'll tell me that Britney's out sick--which we all know is the truth--or she'll corroborate your ridiculous story because you've involved her in some attempt to prank me."

"Katy. I'm not making this shit up," he protested.

"Well, that's too bad, because there's no way I'm going to believe you," she replied with a grin. Seeing him frown dejectedly, she adopted a mock pout. "Oh, come on. So I'm not falling for your stupid prank. It's not the end of the world. Cheer up!"

"What the hell?" she suddenly heard from nearby. She turned to see Morgan standing up from the lunch table, hunched over with her shoe in her seat. She was fiddling with the sneaker, seemingly trying to adjust the laces. As Katy watched, one of the laces suddenly broke, snapping violently in half as if pulled too tight...

[Mr Wayne]

Qzar9999,

Welcome back to the land of the gRoWiNg (and living). Everyone needs a break once and a while, and this is a good way to get back into the RiP of things. Hats off to you for the heads up about Wolf Lake; I look forward to seeing it get back on track in the coming weeks.

^_^

(200th thread view and first commenter)

[make_her_grow]

Nice! Yeah, understood about the break thing. Everyone needs one once in a while.

LOVED this short story/Wolf Lake spinoff. Maybe we'll get lucky and it will actually tie in to the Wolf Lake story itself?

Here's looking forward to hopefully a LOT more growth in the future...if "Thursday"'s any indication I can't WAIT for Friday.

[SinisterTwin]

A nice short piece, been wondering what you've been up to. Hope this gets your batteries recharged!