“What would you like to do now?” she says to you as she playfully sticks out her tongue and hooks her thumb in the old house pants to show off a bit hip to tease you while you sit relaxed in your seat. She eyes the bottle you have in your hand as you swish the liquid about within. She knew you had requested she wore this outfit, so she figures by their age they will probably not last the night. She chuckles as she adjusts the waist band of the pants back to where they should be only to have the house pants sag to show a glimpse of her underwear beneath. She moves to sit on the arm of the love seat across from you positioning her body in a way that displays all her curves, the action seeming a bit muted without the plaid skirt and fishnet she normally wears. Eyeing you as a smile graces her muzzle as she attempts to predict what you might say by your body language.
She sees your eyes lingering on her chest and she wonders if perhaps its breast expansion you are after. It wouldn’t take a whole lot more pop this top as it already feels comfortably snug though she was sure with the extra fabric dangling down above her mid drift the shirt had room to grow. Though she did wonder if the top would split down the front, or perhaps at the back. Either way she was sure it would become a tube top before succumbing like so many tops before it. The top hugging her chest to her and welling up over of like a dam threatening to break until it finally does. She noticed your eyes linger as she made herself bounce slightly with her breath as she causally ponders if you would stop with her shirt ripping or keep her grow. With that focus upon her chest, she wonders if you would have her grow until we both have an armful, or perhaps you are the kind that wishes to be pinned to the chair or perhaps the far wall with her expanse. With a flick of her eyes she looks in the room around her noticing that it is fairly good size with high ceilings.
The high ceilings did give her pause as she watches your eyes continue down the length of her body as if taking her all in. Perhaps you have a wider focus than just her breasts getting big, it would explain the pants you had her wear. The spacious legs of the pants did have room to grow into much like the extra fabric her top, leaving plenty of her legs to lengthen and thicken. She could see it in her head now, those pants crawling up from her ankles to calves as she grows taller. She guesses they would split up the seams, though it is always a roll of the dice if the reviling gaps show on the outside or inside of the legs. At least if its inside she could shift her hips enough to cause it to split along the thighs showing off more of her panties though they too would suffer and fail long before the pants fully go. She continues to grin at you as she quietly makes predictions from her own personal experiences. She would wager that she would probably be completely nude around nine feet, maybe twelve feet if the fabric was truly brave, sitting while completely filling the love seat meant for two like a under size throne. She forces her thoughts back to the present to see that your eyes have are now looking at her paws as if to appraise her nails. Though after seeing the high ceiling and your eyes lingering at her feet, she wonders if perhaps your goal for her is much higher though if you wanted her to get that big, she would hope you had insurance.
Then again, the room is somewhat bare and simply furnished, perhaps your plans linger in the other direction. It is not unheard of in the games of size to be shrunk, she figures that if she lost a foot she would have to hug those loose house pants to her. Another foot and the top would be more like a dress barely keeping her decent with her pants almost swallowing her if not trip hazards. At three feet that top would be a gown that would have no hope of keeping her chest covered but at least the top isn’t see through so she wouldn’t have to worry about being to exposed. She could only imagine her panties and house pants would defiantly be a trip hazard she would probably leave them alone unless of course that was the point. Though at 18 inches she would practically be swimming in her clothes but watching your eyes start to roam back over her body she wonders how small you would have taken her, hopefully not enough to risk own life insurance kicking in.
With a curious head tilt her head she watches your eyes to march their way back up to her bare midriff as if searching for a belly ring. She ponders if perhaps your lingering focus and your silent wish for a bigger kitty is coming with a more substantial investment. Though she is unsure if the investment will come from your end or hers as her belly could become swollen for many reasons. She had been a surrogate in the past, perhaps your gaze is a hunger for her to bare your cubs. Judging by her outfit, she could probably handle one cub before the natural girth of mother hood would put the pants to their ultimate test though her chest had plenty of room for milk within this top, though that is of course if you don’t plot to aid in that area. Though she is sure the waist band of the pants would give out far before twins were fully to term, the waist band tightening and pushing lower and lower beneath the swell you would gift her until her own motherly hips sunder the offending band. With more and more life, that dangling hem of her top will be lifted upwards until it gives up the ghost as those hungry cubs place their demands upon her milk production. Of course that all depends on how fast the gestation is. Then again perhaps your thoughts are more directed towards a simple fluid inflation in which case she supposes she has enough room as you wish to give her but her clothes have their limits.
She watches your eyes continue to drift about her body as if trying to remember every inch of her. She begins to wonder you are someone who’s interest in change reach beyond simply size. Thinking on that possibility opens a whole new paths this night could if transformation is involved. She looks over you attempting to picture the options you might be thinking of. If it were wings, they would bulge at her back pushing at the top until it would split down the back and snap the shoulder straps as the wings burst from of her back. Her mind lingers on that, wondering if the wings be dragon, or avian, perhaps you bare a truly naughty streak and would give her succubus wings and horns. Either way would destroy the top, though what about the bottoms. Perhaps turning into her into a taur. It would utterly ruin the pants as they certainly wouldn’t hold the extra legs. In a blink she pictures herself having mighty lioness below her waist giving her plenty of room in the back to counterbalance any growth up front though it would make the love seat harder to sit in.
Then again, she might be over estimating what you plan for her and the clothes. Perhaps that is simply liquor in that bottle you hold and you just want some companionship. The house pants and comfortable top worn to put us at ease and bring a sense of home to the starkness of the room we find ourselves in. She did have her own claws to make short work of the old fabric if they truly meant to meet their end. Sliding off the love seat arm, Mara moves towards you after seeing you sit so patiently eyeing her. The sway of her body, the looseness of the fabric teasing at the potential between us. She reaches out and caresses your face with a finger, letting that soft finger pad rest beneath your chin to raise your head up as she bent over at the waist. Her top hugging her just enough to stay decent despite the view of cleavage she the top offers. Her purple eyes gaze into your own as she quietly whispers the words with a hint of excitement “What… would… you… like... to...do…?”


Art by  Goddess_of_Madness
Mara Masai belongs to me.

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