Late Night Growth Spurt

Hi hi ✨

Got a fun exclusive story for you today! This one follows Florence, a third-grade teacher who's in for quite a surprise.

Florence Baker thought she had everything ready for the new school year. But then, boom! She catches the growth virus just two weeks before classes start.

I had a blast writing this one and I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. Let me know what you think in the comments!

📦 Grab the full res image from the attachment section of this post. ⬇️

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"Fuck, not now!" Florence exclaimed, her voice echoing through her empty flat. She stared at her ripped bra and feeling her skin slowly but surely beginning to stretch. "Just two weeks before school starts. Brilliant timing, universe. Absolutely brilliant."

Florence Baker, a 45-year-old third-grade teacher with long blonde hair and wire-rimmed glasses, slumped onto her sofa, her mind racing. She'd known this day was coming - after all, 90% of adult women had already been affected by the virus. But she'd hoped, perhaps foolishly, that she might somehow escape it.

"Right then, Florence," she muttered to herself, pushing her glasses up her nose. "No use crying over spilt milk. Let's see what we're dealing with."

She grabbed her laptop and opened a document she'd been dreading to use: "Virus Tracking Sheet". With trembling fingers, she typed in the date and her current height: 5'6".

"Might as well start a video diary too," she sighed, reaching for her phone. "For posterity's sake."

Florence propped her phone up on the coffee table and hit record. "Day one of the virus," she began, her voice slightly shaky. "I've got the fever, so it's officially started. I'm... I'm terrified, if I'm being honest. But I suppose there's nothing for it but to soldier on."

Just then, her phone buzzed with a text. It was from her best friend and fellow teacher, Maggie.

"Flo, you okay? Heard you called in sick. It's not...you know...is it?"

Florence typed back: "I'm afraid so, Mags. The fever's hit. Suppose I'm in for an interesting fortnight."

Maggie's response was almost immediate: "Oh, love. I'm coming over. Need anything?"

"Just your company," Florence replied. "And maybe some larger clothes? I've a feeling I'll be needing them soon."

As she waited for Maggie, Florence paced her flat, her mind whirling with worries. How tall would she get? How much would her body change? Would she still be able to teach? What would her students think?

The doorbell's chime interrupted her spiralling thoughts. Florence opened the door to find Maggie, arms laden with bags, looking up at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Well," Maggie said, stepping inside, "you don't look any different yet."

Florence managed a weak smile. "Give it time, I suppose. What've you brought?"

Maggie started unpacking her bags on the kitchen counter. "Stretchy clothes, protein bars - you'll need the extra calories - and a bottle of wine. Figured we could both use a drink."

"It's 10 in the morning, Mags," Florence protested halfheartedly.

"And you've just contracted a virus that's going to turn you into an Amazon. I think we can bend the rules a bit," Maggie retorted, already reaching for wine glasses.

As Maggie poured the wine, Florence leaned against the counter, her brow furrowed. "I just... I don't know how to feel, Mags. I'm scared, of course. But there's also this... I don't know... anticipation? Is that mad?"

Maggie handed her a glass. "Not mad at all, love. It's a big change, but it's not all bad from what I've heard. My sister says she's never felt stronger or more confident."

Florence took a long sip of wine. "I just hope I don't get too tall. I quite like being able to fit through doorways."

Maggie chuckled. "Well, you know what they say - good things come in small packages. Or in your case, maybe slightly larger packages."

Florence couldn't help but laugh. "Cheeky cow. So, what now? Do we just... wait?"

"Now," Maggie said, raising her glass, "we toast to new beginnings. And then we plan how we're going to break the news to your class that their teacher might be a bit taller when they come back to school."

As they clinked glasses, Florence felt a warmth that had nothing to do with her fever. Whatever changes were coming, at least she wouldn't face them alone.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of fever naps, anxious measurements, and halfhearted attempts at eating. By evening, Florence was exhausted but no taller. As she crawled into bed, she couldn't help but wonder what the morning would bring.

Florence awoke with a start, her body aching in ways she'd never experienced before. She blinked groggily, trying to focus on the alarm clock by her bedside. As she reached for her glasses, she noticed something odd - her arm seemed longer than usual.

"Mags?" she called out, her voice hoarse. "You awake?"

A deep, melodious voice responded from the living room. "Been up for hours, Flo. How're you feeling?"

Florence swung her legs over the side of the bed, noticing immediately that her feet touched the ground sooner than expected. She stood up slowly, feeling slightly off-balance.

"I think... I think I've grown," she said, a mix of awe and trepidation in her voice.

Maggie appeared in the doorway, her 6'10" frame filling the space. Even at her impressive height, she had to look up slightly to meet Florence's eyes. "Well, would you look at that," she said with a grin. "Welcome to the Amazon club, love."

Florence stumbled to her full-length mirror, gasping at her reflection. She was noticeably taller, her pajamas now showing a good inch of ankle and wrist. "Bloody hell," she muttered. "How much do you reckon I've grown?"

Maggie grabbed a tape measure from the bedside table. "Let's find out, shall we? Stand up straight now."

After a moment of measuring, Maggie announced, "Two inches, Flo. You're now a proud 5'8"."

Florence let out a nervous laugh. "Two inches overnight? Is that... normal?"

Maggie shrugged her broad shoulders. "Normal's a bit of a relative term these days, isn't it? But yeah, that's about average for the first growth spurt. Come on, let's get some breakfast in you. You'll need your strength."

As they made their way to the kitchen, Florence couldn't help but notice how different everything looked from her new height. The countertops seemed a bit lower, the doorways a bit closer. She watched in fascination as Maggie moved around the kitchen, her muscular frame easily reaching high shelves and effortlessly lifting the heavy cast iron skillet.

"I still can't get over how you move so gracefully," Florence remarked, sipping her tea. "I feel like a newborn giraffe."

Maggie chuckled as she flipped pancakes. "You'll get used to it. Took me a few weeks to stop bumping my head on everything. Speaking of which, we might want to move some of your light fixtures. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

As they ate, Florence peppered Maggie with questions. "Did it hurt when you grew? How long did it take? Did you have to buy all new clothes?"

Maggie answered patiently, her own experience still fresh in her mind. "It ached a bit, yeah. Took about two weeks for the major changes. And clothes..." she gestured to her outfit, a stretchy tank top and leggings that hugged her muscular frame. "Let's just say stretchy is your new best friend."

Florence nodded, looking down at her own pajamas. "I suppose I'll need to go shopping soon. Though I'm not sure how much more I'll grow."

"Well," Maggie said, leaning back in her chair (which creaked slightly under her weight), "everyone's different. But if you're anything like me, you've got a bit more growing to do."

As they cleared the breakfast dishes, Florence felt a sudden twinge in her back. She winced, pressing a hand to her spine.

"You alright there?" Maggie asked, concern evident in her voice.

Florence nodded, though her face was tight with discomfort. "Just a bit of a twinge. Is this... is this how it starts?"

Maggie nodded sympathetically. "Afraid so, love. Looks like you're in for another growth spurt."

As Florence retreated to her bedroom, she couldn't help but wonder what other changes the day would bring. The thought was both terrifying and oddly exciting.

The two weeks leading up to the first day of school had been a whirlwind for Florence. Each day brought new changes, both physical and emotional. She'd watched in awe as her body transformed, growing taller and more muscular. By the end of the fortnight, she'd reached a height of 6'4" - quite modest compared to some of the Amazons she'd seen around town, but still a dramatic change from her original 5'6".

The evening before the first day of classes, Florence stood in front of her mirror, admiring her new form. Her long blonde hair now cascaded down to the middle of her back, framing a face that had become more angular and defined. Her new height had distributed her weight elegantly, giving her a statuesque figure that she was still getting used to.

"Well, Florence," she said to her reflection, adjusting her glasses, "I think we've weathered this storm rather well, all things considered."

She glanced at the neatly pressed outfit laying on her bed - a stylish blouse and skirt combo she'd bought just yesterday, thinking her transformation was complete. The shop assistant, a towering woman of 7'5", had assured her that the outfit would accommodate any last-minute growth spurts. Florence had laughed it off at the time, certain that her changes were done.

As she prepared for bed, Florence felt a sense of anticipation about the next day. How would her students react? Would they be scared? Amazed? She chuckled to herself, imagining their little faces looking up at her.

It was around 2 AM when Florence woke with a start. A tingling sensation coursed through her entire body, more intense than anything she'd felt before. She sat up, gasping, as waves of warmth washed over her.

"No, no, no," she muttered, throwing off her covers. "Not now, please not now!"

But her body had other plans. As she watched in disbelief, her arms began to lengthen visibly, muscles swelling and shifting beneath her skin. Her legs stretched out, feet dangling off the end of the bed. She could feel her back expanding, her shoulders broadening.

Florence scrambled out of bed, nearly toppling over as she adjusted to her rapidly changing proportions. She stumbled to the mirror, gripping the edges of the dresser so tightly she could hear the wood creaking.

"Fuck fuck fuck," she whispered, watching her reflection change before her eyes.

Her pajamas, already snug, began to strain and tear. The top rode up, exposing her midriff as her torso lengthened. The bottoms became shorts, then barely more than underwear as her legs grew longer and more muscular.

The growth seemed to go on forever, though in reality it was probably no more than 15 minutes. When it finally subsided, Florence stood panting, surveying the damage.

Her pajamas were in tatters, barely clinging to her new form. She had to duck to see her full reflection in the mirror, which now only showed her from the chest down. With trembling hands, she reached for the tape measure on her dresser.

"Seven... seven feet... two inches," she stammered, reading the measurement. "Ten inches in one night? This can't be happening!"

But it had happened. Florence Baker, third-grade teacher, now stood at an impressive 7'2" - a full 20 inches taller than she had been just two weeks ago.

As the shock began to wear off, panic set in. "My clothes!" she exclaimed, rushing to her wardrobe. She yanked out the outfit she'd bought for the first day of school, holding it up against her new body. The blouse that had fit perfectly yesterday now looked like a child's garment in her hands. The skirt that had fallen modestly to her knees would now barely cover her bottom.

"This is a nightmare," Florence groaned, sinking onto her bed, which protested loudly under her new weight. "What am I going to do? I can't go to school like this!"

She glanced at her clock - 3:30 AM. Shops wouldn't open for hours, and even if they did, she doubted she'd find anything in her size at such short notice.

Florence took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Think, Florence, think," she muttered. Her eyes fell on the curtains in her room - heavy, durable fabric in with a floral pattern.

With renewed determination, Florence stood up (carefully avoiding the ceiling fan) and strode to the window. She pulled down the curtains with one easy tug, surprising herself with her new strength.

"Right then," she said, laying the fabric out on her bed. "Time to get creative."

For the next few hours, Florence worked tirelessly, cutting and stitching as best she could with her limited sewing skills. She fashioned a simple wrap skirt from one curtain and a makeshift top from the other. It wasn't haute couture by any means, but it would have to do.

As the sun began to rise, Florence stood back to admire her handiwork. The outfit was far from perfect - the seams were a bit wonky, and the hem was uneven - but it covered the essentials and even had a certain charm to it.

She slipped on the homemade outfit, relieved to find that it fit her new proportions reasonably well. The top was a bit snug across her newly expanded chest, and the skirt was perhaps a tad shorter than she would have liked, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Florence checked her reflection one last time, running a hand through her tousled blonde hair. "Well," she said to herself, "this certainly isn't how I pictured my first day back. But I suppose it's time to face the music."

With a deep breath, she ducked through her bedroom door, ready to face whatever challenges this new day - and her new body - might bring.