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Unread 08-30-2013   #7
qzar9999
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Re: Story: One Week at Wolf Lake (Growth, miniGTS, GTS, F/m, F/f, sex)

^^ 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...
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