trial of the obsession part1

This is the start. Once done the whole story will be posted to my group. See you then.

Trial of The Obsession

A Sequel to The Obsession

By, Magnus Knight

The following story is rated Fiction MA and is not suitable for minors

Eleven months later…

The grOWTH continues…

“Nine weeks, bored out of my mind.” He muttered to himself from underneath his breath. He’d been sitting here on this jury for nine months. He’s been sequestered with no contact with the outside world except for the television in his motel room and the occasional chat with room service. “Maybe this is some kind of karmic retribution.” He thought out loud, but quickly shut his mouth when he realized he caught another juror’s attention. After all, he couldn’t explain what karma placed him here to begin with. No one would, couldn’t, understand the circumstances that brought him to this point. How he had to leave his old life behind and start again. The pain he caused. All over his little, scratch that, big obsession with the giantess.

After the incident at his local grocery store some time earlier he felt he had to get away and clear his mind. What he did to that poor girl, the emotional pain he felt he caused her, there in public forcing her to grow. Forcing her to satisfy his passion by tearing through her clothes appearing naked for all to see. Then how she just up and disappeared after that. Her worried family. All because of him. So here he is, a stranger in a new place. Just as he settled in the notice came in the mail. Jury duty. He hates jury duty.

The case was somewhat the talk of the town. A wealthy middle aged couple just married starting out their new life together. The victim was a Dr. Richard Kimble. The defendant, his lovely wife on trial for his murder. Seeing as to how he was new in town and had no prior knowledge of the couple or the case he was perfect for the jury.

The case was a slam dunk. Wife came home one night to find her husband dead on the living room floor. Her jewelry missing, window smashed, and a spouse with a bullet in the chest. The problem for her was that the bullet came from her gun, and to make matters worse the husband had just changed his will leaving everything to her. It also didn’t help any for her to find out days earlier that he had been having an affair with a mystery woman. That was the prosecutions case. The defense argued that she didn’t do it, because she loved him. The female defense attorney argued that the whole thing was a botched robbery. Her jewelry was missing, the gun was kept in a glass cabinet in which the glass was broken, no fingerprints on the gun, and she had no prior knowledge about the will because it was changed that day and she had been out all afternoon shopping. The perp probably broke in thinking no one was home because the car was missing, the wife took it. He broke in, but was startled by the Doctor while cleaning out the bedroom. The gun cabinet was close by; he broke the glass, grabbed the gun and fired. Plus two neighbors claimed that they saw some one parked in a black sedan earlier casing the place.

Of course none of this really mattered to him. He was too busy staring at the women around him. Three in particular. The hot female attorney Ms. Monica Keep (whom he heard was the best money could buy), the cute middle-aged defendant, and the sweet young juror in the front row. Man was she hot. He had to concentrate hard just to keep from getting an erection.

The trial lasted six weeks. Now the deliberation for the jury began. Right from the beginning they were split down the middle. Half wanted to hang the doctor’s wife by her long brown hair. The other’s wanted to let her be. That’s when his sweet young juror sprang into action. With a little persuasion and a lot of cleavage showing she was able to turn everyone around to her point of view. Guilty. Now he had just about had enough of this, after all, he was only human and who would want to sit in a small hot room for more than seven days of arguments, so he went along with the rest and voted.

The next day they were all their when the verdict was announced. Guilty on all counts. She was taken away, shame he thought too, too young and attractive for jail. The judge asked them all to come back the next day for the sentencing. As they were leaving he took one last longing look at his favorite juror, and said goodbye as she climbed into her black sedan. In fact it looked a lot like the one the neighbors described seeing in the area the day of the murder. How odd he thought.

Then he thought back to the jury deliberations, and how at times she seemed so passionate, almost eager to get a guilty verdict. So like any good citizen these things played in his head over until he decided to stalk, I mean follow her. He stood outside her home for nearly six hours until she finally left. It was then he broke into her place, and after a little snooping he found what he was looking for. The missing jewelry from the break in. On her dresser he found her journal. There she had written a full confession. How she had the affair with the doctor, and when his wife found out threatening divorce, he broke it off. Later that day she followed him and found out he changed his will and left her with nothing. She planned on pawning the jewelry for cash and skipping town, but when she was picked for jury duty on this case she couldn’t resist. She could finish off the wife too.

Now he felt guilty for letting her good looks persuade him. He not only might have cast the deciding vote to send an innocent woman to jail, but he was also letting one get away with murder. This was beyond outrage for him. He stormed out of her place and back to his to decided what to do. There on a table top with a beam of light shining on it was the answer. If he and the courts failed to hand down justice, the formula would.

That next day he went into the court house with two bottles of the formula on the inside pocket of his sport coat. And there on a cart sat the two pitchers f water. One for the jury, one for the judge. Knowing the formula would only work on females he put one bottle in each pitcher, confident that the male judge would be unaffected. Like clock work the one pitcher left the cart and the other was left for the jury. He proceeded to pick the pitcher up and walk over to his cute juror friend from the front row. “May I pour you a drink?” he asked nonchalantly. “Sure honey,” she said winking at him, after all she was used to the men of this jury fighting for her affections. He poured the glass and watched her drink it down. Then to prevent others from drinking it acted like a klutz and spilled the rest on her jacket. “You jerk! You know how much this outfit cost me!” She responded. He then took the time to actually see what she was wearing. Black loafers with a small but sexy heel. A gold ankle bracelet around black hose. A straight form grey skirt with grey jacket she just removed, and pink three quarter sleeve floral blouse. Her hair was done up in the usual ponytail manner. He thought how ironic she comment on the outfit, because he knew in a few minutes it wouldn’t matter, whatever was left of it anyway.

He looked down at his watch and wondered what was taking so long for the formula to take effect. The last time he used it, it worked almost instantly. As he thought this over he looked down at the large mess he made when he accidentally spilled the pitcher of water. “That’s it.” He muttered to himself. The last time it was in a glass of water. This time he used a whole pitcher. The formula was diluted more. “Oh crap.” He mumbled. With a more diluted formula he wondered if it would even work now. Or if it did how radical would the effect is. Just then the bailiff called them into the court room. The trial was resuming and now if anything would happen a whole court room would see it. As the jury took to their seats he made sure to get one so he could best witness any changes himself that might occur, but also near the exit in case he had to leave in a hurry.

The trial began with the good Dr.’s wife pleading for her life. The defense attorney that she hired was helping her to try and plead her case to the judge for leniency from him and this already tainted jury. He looked at the two women trying to feign like he was paying attention when what he really was paying attention to was his fellow juror. Every now and then though he would look up to the young female lawyer, she was after all very attractive. With her shoulder length hair that resembled something like a flapper would wear back in the twenties. With her knee length maroon flared skirt, buttoned up boucle jacket and ribbon belt. He liked the silky maroon tights that matched the skirt so well and the black pumps with ankle strap were the final touch.

Time to time he would also look at the widowed Mrs. Kimble before the judge. She had on a purple coat with matching slacks, black shoes to go with her black belt, and a dark toned multi colored striped blouse, with the stripes going out horizontally. Both women were very attractive and could easily distract any man. He figured that this pleasant image would be all that could keep him company as he had just about given up all hope that hi formula would ever work.

Giving up on any growth occurring he was going to actually pay attention to the trial when something caught his eye. The jurors blouse was now more of a short sleeve blouse that the before three quartered. The sleeve in question now started at the elbow, not the forearm like before. Also all the little creases in it were now pulled smooth. To his surprise she didn’t even notice this yet, probably to distracted about getting away with murder. As he looked up with a large smile beaming on his face something caught his eye on the judge’s desk. Something that was there that wasn’t there before, and was not expected. A coffee pitcher and mug with steam coming from it. Not the usual water pitcher. But if it wasn’t there than where did it go? And who drank his formula? His eyes hurried about the court room to see if he could spot where it went to. There, he found it sitting on the defense table. “Oh shit!” he blurted out loud. The judge turned to him and sternly spoke “Is there a problem juror number 7.” “No your honor.” Was the reply, his face slightly red with embarrassment. He didn’t want to expose the lawyer or widow to his formula. The two glasses were on the table, one three quarters full, the other empty, and a half drained pitcher. Now something really big was about to happen.

The little distraction another juror caused broke her concentration, just long enough for her to notice something was amiss. The female juror patted her breasts, with a puzzled expression on her face. She could swear her clothes now felt slightly more constricting than they should be.

The truth was that everything was now feeling more constricting on her. Her loose skirt now hugged her hips tighter than before. The loafers on her dainty feet tightened with their grip on her to the point where she winced slightly in pain. She tugged on her pantyhose trying to pull them up, because to her some unseen force seemed to be pulling them down, yet she didn’t see any of the tell tale scrunching that she expected to see near her ankles. Speaking of scrunching, the scrunchey that held her hair in that tight pony tail even felt as if it was tugging her roots from her scalp. Of course this was painful so she yelped out a little “EEE!” To which the judge turned and sternly shouted, “The next one to make a sound from that jury box will be held in contempt of court.” So she just bit her lip, and remained silent, though soon enough any proper court room decorum would be thrown out the window, or through the roof.

He watched all her little fidgeting with great interest, for he knew exactly what was going on. In fact it was becoming hard in more ways than one for him to conceal his growing glee. He starred up at the court house ceiling and estimated it to be about thirty five feet high. The calculations running through his mind were with a diluted formula how tall would she become. The last on was around twenty five feet. While mulling this over a slight stretching sound brought him back to the moment at hand. No one seemed to here it but him, but it was a sound he was all too familiar with. “Groan.” The sound of leather slowly being stretched out of shape. Music to his ears.

She looked down with some confusion, unfamiliar with the sight before her. It appeared as if her shoes were being assaulted from within. Five little indentations poking in the front, and a rather large bulge poking out the back. It was almost hypnotic to her to see the bulges grow, the shoes distend outwards, and her ears even began to pick up the sound of the leather stretching. The cramped feeling she felt in her shoes was alien to her. After all, these were supposed to be her comfy shoes. She also looked down to see something else odd. The gold anklet she wore seemed to be slowly turning around her ankle. Twisting and contorting as if it was being tugged in all directions. “Plink, Plink!” All this concentration she was focusing on her feet was suddenly broken by the sound of two dimes falling onto the floor. Then she saw two golden objects shining on the floor. Instinctively she reached up and grabbed at her ear lobe and noticed her gold earrings were gone. “Now this is really getting damn peculiar.” She thought to herself. “They never have done that before.”

He watched her and was enraptured by an almost orgasmic form of anticipation as her clothes bulged and stretched allover her. He knew it would not be long now until the fireworks really started. Rubbing his hands together like some sort of evil scientist he thought about bursting aloud with an evil laugh, but held it back. After all, he didn’t want to be thrown from the court room until after the main event.

Her shoes were at the breaking point. Her once small feet had expanded to the point that she could actually make out her five toes bulging and pushing on the fronts of her loafers. The backs looked like tumors, giant lumps pushing them out. Her scrunchy was pulling on her hair so hard her head hurt. She bit her lip to the point that she could taste a trickle of blood inside her mouth. She could begin to feel the eyes of the other jurors upon her, as the groaning of her shoes was becoming louder by the second. Finally she could take no more and she reached up to pull of her scrunchy, but when doing so was met by the oddest sound. “Shrip!” A new cool sensation swept up her arm. She brought her hand down to examine the arm and saw that her sleeve tore open, almost up to her shoulder. “What the hell is happening?” she said out loud, as things now were way too strange to remain silent. Besides she could tell all eyes in the court room were on her due to the sound of her blouse tearing open.

The judge suddenly turned to her and said “Young lady that is it. You’ve interrupted these…” but then stopped mid sentence as he noticed something odd. Her breasts were huge. At least a DD and from the looks of things about to bust through her blouse. The judge definitely did not notice that before. Then something else even more odd struck him. Since when was this woman the tallest juror in the box. She seemed to be at least six inches taller than before.

Meanwhile this is what he was waiting for and he wanted it. With a smile from ear to ear he completely relished what he heard next. “Crack, pop, crack!” Her right loafer split open, right along the horizontal seam in the front, as black silk wrapped toes burst forth. As if that was some cue for her to start to panic she began to frantically pull at the bottom hem of her grunting and groaning as he watched it slowly climb up her long sexy legs. All pulling on it did was reveal her belly button for him to see.

She was really starting to panic now. She just stared gap jawed as her foot tore through the front of her shoe. And as if that wasn’t bad enough her skirt was now rising up like a mini. Try as she might, tug on it just caused a cool breeze on her belly. Speaking of her belly she felt like she was pregnant as it now hung slightly over the top of her skirt. Almost like it was designed for someone two sizes smaller. Just then she heard another cracking sound and as she gazed at the ground she knew what she’d see because she already felt all ten toes, silk clad, touching the cold hard wood floor. At that very moment she heard another two even louder cracks followed by the sound of leather tearing. She didn’t need to see what was happening at that point, she felt it. Both loafers blew open and now her black silk encased feet were stuck on top of them. The toes and heals both sticking out of places they shouldn’t slanted at an odd angle.

He just watched overjoyed. This was one of his favorite parts. The cracking, stretching, and eventual destruction of the footwear. He almost came right then, but he knew there was much more to hold out for.

She was starring in disbelief at her ruined loafers; a tear drop formed in the eye and ran down her cheek. “But these were my nice comfort shoes.” She said with a whimper. She didn’t have long to grieve though as the assault upon her wardrobe was about to go up. The gold anklet she wore some time ago had stopped its twirling about her ankle. In fact the glittering piece of leg wear was now throbbing, causing her some pain. The poor piece of jewelry had taken all it could and now dug into the silk black hose she wore. It was almost like it was slicing into her, fraying her hose around it, when all of the sudden her ankle swelled up and “plink!” there went the anklet, snapping into three distinct pieces and falling to the ground.

Now she lost it and started crying out loud, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had enough and wanted out. She went to stand up, but to her chagrin fell back into the chair. As her eyes gazed down she saw why. Her loafers she tried to stand upon heels snapped off, causing her to loose balance and fall back down. That was not all; as she fell two runs appeared in her black hose on top of her knees. The runs quickly expanded and soon disappeared under her all too miniskirt. That didn’t stop them though. She could feel them continue to rip up and across her thighs, streaking them and the ass tore, or rather split open right at the crack. She blushed in embarrassment, and quickly turned to her side just in time to see the stitching around her left shoulder rip open, separating the sleeve from the rest of the blouse. At that exact moment the right one followed. Then her biceps, still very much feminine, ripped in two and her sleeves fell to the ground.

The floral tank top she wore was turning him on. He knew that it wouldn’t be much longer now. By this time all activity in the trial came to a screeching halt, all eyes upon juror number seven. The judge blurted out, “bailiff, remove that growing woman.” As he slammed the gavel demanding there is “order in the court.”

It now truly dawned on her, what was happening. “I’m growing” she said. Then louder and with more emotion “My god, I’m growing!” “Shrip!” a small hole opened up in between her heaving bosom. She felt the back button of her skirt shoot off and through her chair, hitting the man behind her in the leg. Along her thighs two vertical rips started climbing up the sides of her skirt. As they tore up, you could see the shredded hose come into view. “Shrip!” her neck exploded and finished destroying the top of her blouse. The whole in front of her breasts kept widening until you could now clearly make out the two smooth rounded cups. Smooth except for the tits pointing out like two bullets into the air. The back of her blouse soon became involved in the action as it started to tear, first at the top, then slowly down the center until it reached the bottom, which was now at her mid back region. The back of the bra was really straining to contain the expanding flesh.

It was an interesting experience for him. He never felt anything quite like it, when that button snapped off and hit him in the leg. He gazed at her growing back, still smooth and feminine as any women’s should be. He started having to crane his neck up to pay witness of the site of her back clasp snapping open. Then the stitching around the part where the shoulder straps attached into the back part began to give way.

She could feel something odd happening behind her. Her puzzlement was soon answered by the fact two white straps shot up and both slapped her on opposite sides of the head. That was enough for her. She tried to stand upright again, but couldn’t. Somehow her expanding body was now stuck in the chair. This was really starting to piss her off. She tried to stand one last time with all her might, but the force of her added weight was too much. The chair came crashing down to the floor, along with her. That little push also pushed her blouse too far. As she fell onto her ass her blouse exploded, fabric flying in all directions, ruining what was left of her blouse. As she sat on the floor for that brief moment in a straining to contain bra and torn skirt she felt her back push up against the man behind. Also her feet now grew into the front of the jury box. As that happened the fronts of the sheer black material tore open, and for the first time in ten minutes she wiggled her free toes. The hose didn’t stop there and they split all the way up her skirt. She tried to stand again, and this time did. But as she did her skirt finished splitting up the sides until it looked like two pieces of a loincloth. But not for too long as the waist snapped and her skirt fell to the ground.

Man was he a happy man. Not only did he see her burst out of her clothes, but he actually got to experience feeling it. Her body pressing against mine. God was it hot. “Pop!” and their goes the rest of her bra. She appears to be about fifteen feet tall, butt naked, and the growth is slowing down.

Their she stood. Taking up about four seats of the jury box with her feet. She figured, judging her distance from the ceiling, she was about twenty-two feet tall, naked, and in a court room trying to frame someone for murder. This was not what she expected.

The whole trial now came to a stand still. All eyes gazing up at the jury box, all that was left of it, for in it stood a twenty-four foot tall woman. The bailiff stood before a gigantic calf holding out a pair of handcuffs with the kind of look you would see upon a child who was looking upon its first dinosaur skeleton. The judge dropped his gavel which hit the court floor with a thud. Most of the people in the seats already ran from the court room, all except a few drooling horny men and one reporter who was writing down everything she saw at a blinding rate. To her this boring first crime assignment just became Pulitzer material.

The court stenographer had long stopped typing anything when Monica Keep immediately stood up in the middle of all this confusion to demand a mistrial. “Your honor the state has no precedent for the matter at hand and for the benefit of fairness to my client and those injured in the jury motion an immediate mistrial!” To which the judge turned to the feisty young lawyer drooling and said “Huh?” Monica repeated her self and the judge turned to the prosecutor to hear his opinion, if only he hadn’t passed out when the young juror hit the ten foot mark.

The judge went to bang his gavel, not realizing he dropped it, and instead banged his hand and yelped “Motion granted.” Though with the way he was distracted he’d probably agree to anything.

“OH hell no!” The newly nude giantess rumbled out with a deep husky, yet feminine voice. “I went to too much damn trouble to frame that bitch.” All eyes were now shooting back and forth between the giantess and Mrs. Kimble.

“What did you she say?” Mrs. Kimble mumbled while looking bewildered at her attorney, Monica. Her attorney seemed to have loosened up somewhat in the past few minutes as two buttons were now undone on her jacket and a hint of purple camisole shown through. Mrs. Kimble shot a mean look up at the giantess and shouted “What did you say?” To which the giantess replied by stamping her foot upon the ground. The whole courthouse shook with a low rumble like that of a plane flying too low to the ground. When the giant foot came down Mrs. Kimble followed it and saw something sparkle at the tip of a giant toe. She quickly ran over to it and placing one delicate hand on it picked it up and brought it too eye level, quickly placing the other hand over her mouth, gasping audibly. It was a golden anklet that looked as if it went through hell. Its entire links stretched out of shape, distorted and out of alignment. This wasn’t just any anklet. She recognized it as her anklet. One of the many pieces of jewelry she reported stolen. The very anklet her dead husband gave to her on their first date. Mrs. Kimble now took a step back and looked up at the giantess trying to crane her neck to see her whole face, as realization through itself upon her. Her husband was having an affair, and this giantess was the one the affair was with. It was her in their house that night, the one who killed her husband, the reason the jury was so quick to convict on only circumstantial evidence. She stepped back again, somewhat more awkwardly this time almost stumbling.

He was watching the exchange between the giantess and defendant from within the exit door frame. Figuring if all hell broke loose this was the best place to stand, being reinforced and all. He also saw the defendant stumble on that last step, and after searching the floor for debris but finding none, he thought he knew why. His formula was now taking affect.

Mrs. Kimble’s steps were all becoming more awkward for her to take as the once nice leather heels she wore were now becoming increasingly tight around her dainty feet. Or maybe it was the fact her pants now felt like a pair of tights on her slender frame. She looked down and could see all the slack in her pants disappearing as the fine creases in them went flat. Her feet hurt and when she stumbled again she looked down to see the leather moving and pulsating as their contents shifted. Her purple coat, which before was tailored to reach just below the bottom, was now at mid-bottom, and slowly still climbing. She could feel all her clothes now shifting about on her frame. It was an odd sensation for her to experience, and yet a part of her welcomed it. She looked up again at the guilty giantess and in a way felt as if something was going to give her this giant chance for justice.

The giantess was eyeing the defendant Mrs. Kimble with contempt in her eyes, unaware of the changes that were slowly developing in the mild mannered middle aged housewife. She didn’t realize the monstrous growth she just went through was about to happen again. The giantess just furrowed her eyebrows, and took one small, yet to the onlookers’ gigantic step, towards Mrs. Kimble. She was planning on squashing her like a bug. The only problem was that this bug was about to bite in a big way.

The purple coat continued to climb up the defendants arms, revealing a wrist watch she was wearing. He looked across the distance to the watch as it’s brown leather band distorted out of shape. Her shoes were now showing a lot of stress as her feet continued their assault upon them. It looked as if the tops were rising above them as the indentations of her toes added to the trouble. Her pants were now Capri pants on her lengthening legs as the cotton material climbed to about mid ankle. Her black leather belt twisted a little from side to side around her waist before forcibly being returned to center where it physically and audibly groaned in protest to its worsening predicament. The color stripes on her blouse had almost a hypnotic affect on the onlookers as the colorful stripes on it seemed to mend together and blur as the blouse stretched and reshaped itself.

“Snap!” the leather of her watchband snapped and its glass case shattered as the time piece hit the floor. This caused Mrs. Kimble to look to her wrist and as she turned her head back up the sound of a seam failing caught her ear. The right shoulder seam of her coat was failing and started the path to ruin for the jacket. The seam tore all the way around separating it from the rest of the coat. Then as the sleeve rose to the elbow its seams failed too and tore in half to just fall away. The other sleeve tore at the elbow too, revealing that Mrs. Kimble was wearing a short sleeve blouse, or at least it was one now by the bare forearm being shown. “Shrip!” the left shoulder seams failed and the coat now converted into a vest. A very short and form fitting vest.

The giantess stared down at the woman she was about to step on, but for some reason stopped midst ride and pulled her massive foot back. She just stared down at this other woman with a look of confusion in her eyes. She couldn’t place it but something seemed odd and unnatural to her now. The appearance of this small woman changed some how. Everything about her was changing. She really wanted her dead, but just couldn’t bring herself to do it now. She had to see where all of this was going.

He watched all this from the side line near his exit as it unfolded. The two women just staring at each other with burning contempt and childlike curiosity on their changing circumstances as the one was growing to challenge the other. He knew that when the giantess stopped her approach towards the other it could very well be her last mistake. Soon the two women would be equal in size and then things would begin to get radically interesting. He felt he should really have ran outside and charged admission to get in, or at the very least asked for money from the few remaining onlookers, but he wasn’t about to reveal himself yet.

Mrs. Kimble by now knew what was happening to her body. The tightening clothes, tearing seams, and stretching sounds could only mean one thing. She was growing, and she wanted it. She welcomed it as a chance for revenge, a chance for justice, a quest for truth. These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of more tearing fabric. Her purple coat tore little by little at her back, and as that last seam failed, so did the coat. As the purple rags fell away a thought ran through the brown haired blue eyed middle aged woman. The growth would soon leave her completely naked. “Crack, crack!” This new thought was interrupted by her black shoes splitting open to release her bare toes to the world. As they wiggled free her heels broke under her increasing weight and as she hit the ground flat footed with a thud the backs of her shoes groaned, then split at their center seam. Soon her feet outgrew her foot wear and now grew on top of the leather scraps. She could feel her bare feet slide across the smooth tile floor, and as she watched a small tear at her pant leg cuff caught her attention. The tear slowly traveled up her calf to the knees where it stopped. “Shrip!” the other side tore too and followed the same pattern. “Rip, rip!” the inseams split and the cotton fabric just hung there for a moment.

She looked up at the giantess and knew what she wanted to do, grow as big and fast as possible so that she may crush this murderess bitch. As fire burned in her eyes her growth seemed to accelerate. Her silver belt buckle bent and snapped as the black leather belt tore simultaneously in three separate places to fall away. Her blouse’s neckline started to stretch and plunge and then tore a little to show her growing cleavage. The bottom of the blouse un-tucked itself to reveal a smooth stomach and nice set of abs as the bottom tore a little too.

“Shrip, rip!” Her seams at her pants thighs tore open to show a beautifully shaped thigh tear apart the seams. “Pop, pop, pop!” The three buttons that held the pants closed popped off one after another to reveal the fronts of a pair of creamy white panties. Her pants not turned into cutoff short shorts the growth now attacked her blouse.

The colored top shrunk into a tube top as its seams screamed for mercy, but instead found only destruction. “Shrip!” loudly echoed throughout the courthouse as the back tore open to show off a smooth sexy back with a straining bra clasp in the center. The clasp stretched out slowly then “boing!” burst apart and slid behind the widening gap the blouse was forming. The front tore down the center to rip in two and let her overflowing bra cups see the light of day. The flesh mounds in the cups pushed on them with such force ruptures in the white flowery satin material began to form. “Shrip, rip!” the blouse tore further until in one final loud rip tore itself to pieces and turned into rags.

Meanwhile her pants were now in their final death throes as Mrs. Kimble surpassed the eight foot mark. The back seam tore wide to reveal more of their satin contents and the rips continued to travel up the outer sides. As these tears met the waist the pants took on too much damage and fell away to add to this woman’s mounting rag pile. At nine feet she was left in only her underwear and that was not to last much longer.

First to go was the bra. The shoulder straps dug into her and stretched to the point where the nylon material ruptured in small places every few inches. Soon two of these ruptures met and the straps flailed away. Then her panties already with small tears in the waist area grew too small for this growing woman. The satin under garment fluttered to the ground to join with the rest of her clothes.

Now completely naked at the ten foot point she turned her embarrassment into rage and this fed into her growth. She rapidly shot upwards at one foot per second and soon matched the other giantess at around twenty feet, but instead of stopping, her growth slowed and did not come to a stop until she hit the twenty-five foot mark. Now slightly larger than the other giantess Mrs. Kimble stumbled for a brief moment as the accelerated growth made her a little light headed. The other giantess took this as an opportunity to strike and shoved Mrs. Kimble backwards.

As she stumbled back Mrs. Kimble crashed into the wall and damaged it enough to cause large cracks to appear on the outside. Onlookers began to gather outside upon hearing the thunderous boom and seeing the wall of their courthouse bulge outwards. Inside Mrs. Kimble quickly regained her composure and lunged at the murderess giantess. The two locked hands in a deadly embrace as they pushed hard upon each other, both were refusing to give.

He watched this from his perch as these two colossi fought for position in the courthouse. Each of them shoving as hard as they could against each other, their nude chests heaving as fire burned in their eyes. He knew this was about to be one big battle, and someone might not survive this. A lot was running through his head at this point. One was if he stayed could he survive this onslaught? Two was why did Mrs. Kimble grow so much faster then any of his other giantess creations? Third was who would win and what in the end would be left of this courthouse?

The two giant women’s locked embrace soon broke as the one flung the other to the ground with a crash. The whole area shook, and as she stood back up the two women’s’ footsteps shook everything even more. They now stared at each other eyes blazing with flame. They went for each other again and as there bodies collided the earth shook and rumbled with their battle. Mrs. Kimble grabbed the juror by the hair and pulled back angrily and bitch slapped her upside the head and sent her stumbling back. The juror then slammed into the chest of Mrs. Kimble and sent her staggering back and as she wobbled to regain her footing the juror reeled back and slapped her across the face. Mrs. Kimble cocked her arm back and punched the giantess juror square in the face leaving a trickle of blood coming form her nose. As these droplets of blood fell it seemed as if a rain of blood was falling from the sky. The juror responded by kicking the giantess in the shin and grabbing a handful of hair and pulling harshly as she reached back to slap her. Mrs. Kimble reached up, grabbed the arm and flipped the juror around and placed her in a choke hold. The juror stomped on Kimble’s foot and forced her back to then shove her with all of her might. Mrs. Kimble flew back into and through the east wall of the courthouse crashing into the skyscraper behind it and as glass fell onto the street below the people ran panicking for their lives. The giantess juror stepped out of the building and as she went to punch Kimble she ducked away and her fist went into the skyscraper and out the other end sending glass crashing everywhere. As the two women continued to struggle no one noticed the female attorney rise to her feet and clutching her stomach make a run for the women’s lavatory while her black heels clicked on the rubble strewn floor.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and didn’t want to miss a minute of this. He thought that anyone who found too girls fighting were hot could multiply this by ten. As he rushed out to watch the spectacle he completely forgot about the formula left in the pitcher of water on the table. As he made his way through the hole in the wall his mind went back to the attorney who also ingested his formula, but since he couldn’t spot her he decided not to waist time looking and instead went after the colossus fight outside. No one saw the young female reporter quickly run up and drink down the remainder of the pitcher as she needed to re-hydrate in order to keep pace with all that was happening around her. He had no idea how out of hand things were about to get in this little city.

The young reporter quickly put her notepad into her wallet and pulled out a small metallic grey digital voice recorder to get everything she was about to witness and hear down for her report later. She figured for this she would soon become the top journalist in the city, if not the state. No one around seemed to pay any attention to the young twenty-nine year old Latino reporter as she made her way out the destroyed wall after the two battling giantess’s. She had to struggle a little to maneuver past the rubble in her two inch heeled black leather shoes with their round toes. She quickly glances down to make sure there were no runs in her nude panty hose and her black knee length skirt and waist level sport coat were still neat and proper. Her sheer blouse revealed her black lace bra in the sunlight as her long black hair and two gold stud earrings shimmered in the sunlight. She brought the digital recorder to her mouth and barked into it “Maria Kana watching two giants of feminine beauty fighting brutally in the streets of the upper East Side over their freedom, and of all the clichéd things, a man, albeit a dead one through the busy streets of downtown.”

Cars came screeching to a halt and people ducked for cover as the two giant women fought with each other through the busy streets. They traded blows amongst themselves completely oblivious to the streets below them. The people seemed to insignificant below to bother with, as you could imagine you would be compared with two thirty foot giants. Their bodies were now covered with scrapes and bruises as the fight dragged on for fifteen minutes now, neither woman refusing to give an inch. The streets were filled with huge foot shaped potholes and buildings in a three block radius were damaged as debris piled into the streets.

The giantess juror picked up a yellow taxi cab and hurled it at Mrs. Kimble. She responded by hitting the giantess juror with a street pole she picked out of the ground. As the women fought it appeared in a sudden whirl wind of fast moves the giantess juror could win. She picked up a city bus and whacked Mrs. Kimble with it across the right side of her head, then stuck her massive leg out, which had her foot go into a nearby office building, and trip Mrs. Kimble onto her knees, when she reeled back and punched her square in the eye. As the giantess Kimble fell back her head and shoulders went into the office building taking out the first three stories. The giantess juror was about to deal the death blow when in mid stride she paused and just stood completely still. Unbeknownst to the spectators a tingle shot through her whole body and she shivered for a moment from a breeze no one else felt. She took an awkward step foreword and realized something was different. Her perspective changed slightly, and as she looked around it became apparent to her why. She was starting to shrink back down to normal.

Mrs. Kimble took this opportunity to regain herself long enough to get up and move out of harms way. As she moved away she noticed something odd about her attacker. They were both the same height a minute ago, but now she clearly had a height advantage. Her attacker was shrinking, and Mrs. Kimble took this as an opportunity to strike and end this battle once and for all.

Meanwhile in the ladies room of the crumbling courthouse Mrs. Kimble’s attorney Monica Keep was splashing some cold water across her face. To her all of this seemed like the kinds of nightmares she would have about work after going to bed and eating Mexican just before for a late night snack. One of the jurors, and her own client, just grew into a pair of giantess’s and now were fighting somewhere over something and she couldn’t even focus on what. The truth was she was having trouble focusing on anything right now. She could feel her heart racing inside her chest, and no matter how quickly she splashed the water she couldn’t keep up with the newly formed sweat on her brow. As she came up again to wipe her face she noticed her once neat short black hair looked a little messy. As she tried to fix it the oddest thing caught her sight. She could have sworn her hair was slowly growing longer, which would explain the mess, as it seemed to be creeping towards her shoulders. Monica looked down to her hands and could swear they were lengthening as well, little by little reaching on their own for some unknown prize. “Ouch, Ow!” she yelped and looked down to her black shoes. They were pinching her toes and causing all kinds of minor discomfort. Monica left the ladies room and as she walked down the abandoned halls of the courthouse the clacking her heels made grew louder due the weight their wearer was adding to them, though unbeknownst to her at the moment. …………