All is quiet in Australia, or as quiet as it gets at night in a bustling city. Cars busily driving from point A to point C, or from point C to point A while point B is left wondering what all the fuss is between these two points that everyone is in such a hurry to get to without stopping by it. Money and goods exchanging hands. Exactly what those goods are is unimportant with the exception of a particularly hot item: a small figurine, about the size of a Barbie doll, of a girl with a decent, even attractive lower body, but decidedly top-heavy. It didn't matter that the girl was barely wearing anything, or that what she was wearing seems almost too small, or even that the girl is supposed to be 12. People couldn't get enough of this figurine!
Soon though a boom grabs everyone's attention, followed by another. And another. Each one getting louder, shaking the ground more intensely. A few people believe it at first to be an earthquake. Those conveniently taking a few steps at the time piece together that this isn't an earthquake: it's footsteps. As more and more people recognize this, the crowd oddly grows excited for the source's arrival, as though they know what's coming...
The crowd screams in an excited fever-pitch as a gargantuan, bare foot drops in with a deafening boom, followed shortly after by its partner. Each toenail is lovingly painted bright pink with a valentine heart painted in rose in the center. Each foot's arrival had caused an unknowable amount of car alarms to trip, causing the owner of the feet to loose an amused girlish giggle. Said giggle only serves to cause more alarms to go off, which only serves to amuse the giantess further.
The giantess practically feels the stares up her ankles, so large even the tallest person in the crowd, a 6'4" man, comes barely a third of the way up to them. Her long, slender yet somewhat shapely legs seem to stretch on forever, leading to decently shapely hips and a cute bubble butt. Her pelvis is covered by makeshift panties that seem almost too small for her but nonetheless provide adequate modesty where its needed most. She feels the stares travel further upward over her flat tummy and bellybutton, the outline of the bottom of her ribcage just visible, and... another giggle echoes as she recognizes her tiny audience has trouble seeing past her massive bust, even squeezed as it is within her makeshift bra. She might have to replace it soon... and they better not try to put advertisements on both sides of the banner again! She's not walking around promoting other people's bloody stuff!
She leans forward seductively just like those models she admires (though they admire HER now) to let the crowd get a good look at her face, placing her perfectly manicured hands on her thighs, her fingernails continuing the pink with rose hearts theme from her toenails. Her face is that of the sexiest 12 year old in the universe - and no one would dare say otherwise even though it's really only just a bit prettier than average. Long, dusty brown hair flows over her shoulders to frame her face accentuated by eyes that one would almost expect to find a fossilized bug inside. Finally, grinning with perfectly straight, white teeth, she speaks. "Evening, ladies and gents! Great news! The Prime Minister, the smart and wonderful bloke that he is, has agreed for me to be in charge of this country!"
The crowd goes crazy with joy at this news. "Now, I don't expect your daily routines to change much, just worshiping me is now mandatory every morning, but surely you all do that anyway. The figurines of me you've bought, and if you haven't you totally should, will be perfect for the task!" she continues. Again the crowd reaches a fever-pitch, but she now feels a familiar sensation running through her. She's recognized for awhile that her popularity further pushes her body into the role it's meant to fulfill: not merely be the center of the universe, but the very thing the universe itself revolves around.
Of course one of the few bummers about it would be she'd eventually be too big for any sort of clothes, but in the vastness of space who'd be able to see what she doesn't want seen? The cords holding her bra together begin to strain and snap as she begins growing, ascending to the role she believes is hers by right. The crowd, noticing this, begins chanting her name at the top of their lungs. "TIFF-AN-Y! TIFF-AN-Y! TIFF-AN-Y! TIFF-AN-Y!"...
"Yes... that's right, little ones! SAY MY NAME!" Tiffany shouts happily as her growth accelerates, her makeshift clothes finally snapping off, exposing...
"Tiffany... Tiffany, dear... Time to get up, sweetie..." Tiffany awakes to her mom's voice, in her bedroom. She glances down at herself as she pushes off the covers and sits up in bed: in her PJ's and almost flat as a board, a far cry from her dream. "Good morning, sweetie! You've got too big of a day to sleep in today! We have your checkup at the doctor's and then there's that pageant to sign up for later! Get dressed while I make you some breakfast." her mom says shortly after before leaving her room and closing the door.
"It was... just a dream? Aw..." Tiffany pouts to herself silently. Of course being awakened from it leaves the Aussie upset. It was starting to get really good! She guesses she had arrived in that city about 400 feet tall, which was 96 times her height of 4'2" when she last measured herself, was utterly hot, and was growing even bigger before she was awakened from her dream. The thought of it makes her pajama bottoms become a bit messy inside, reminding her she needs to wash up, as well as the extreme unlikelihood of her ever getting back to that wonderful dream.
Tiffany gets out of bed, taking a moment to admire her nail job of pink with rose hearts in the middle, then pauses in front of her mirror to look at herself in profile. She's definitely a cute and pretty preteen, with proportionately long smooth legs leading to the beginnings of shapely hips like her knock out mom and a cute bubble butt. The pageant and contest awards littering her room are a testament of her childish beauty, dating all the way back to when she was barely 3.
Unfortunately, her mom's refusal to give up these contests when she had her and making her go through them from such an early age has taken a toll on Tiffany: she believes the whole world should revolve around her, and has been quite spoiled. Her dad has tried to take custody of her since she was 8 in an effort to try and undo the damage his ex-wife has done to their daughter with little avail. Still, there may yet be a spark of hope for her to grow up into a fine young woman and put her spoiled past behind her, though the insanity of what's to come may or may not help.
Regardless, Tiffany measures herself by her door. Her PJ's don't feel any tighter on her, but their silken fabric could be deceptive. 4'2". No deception. With a sigh, she gathers the clothes she wants to wear and leaves her room for the bathroom to shower and get cleaned up for the day.
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