Mark stared at the photo on his phone, a stunned smile on his face. Christine, his little Christine, was now a colossal cheerleader who dwarfed Heather. His eyes scanned the image, taking in the details: the tight T-shirt struggling to contain her now even more prominent breasts, the shorts revealing incredibly long, muscular legs. The new reality felt strangely... right. As if it had always been this way.
But a part of him—the one that remembered the original Christine, the short, shy one—felt a pang of... power? Excitement? It was a confusing mix, but the drive was clear. He'd already made her tall, the tallest in school. Why stop there? The idea of seeing how far he could go with his power, and with Christine, was irresistible.
He closed his eyes again, focusing on the mental image of Christine. This time, he didn't think in inches or feet. He thought of... dominance. In being *imposing*. In having her presence fill everything. He imagined Christine towering, growing beyond the normal scale, becoming an almost mythical figure.
A buzzing seemed to fill the air, not with sound, but with a strange vibration that Mark felt in his bones. He opened his eyes. The photo on his phone was still there, but the proportion was now absurd. Christine was no longer just "the tallest." She was... gigantic.
In the photo, Heather and Samantha looked like tiny dolls next to him. Their friends' heads barely reached the height of their knees. The background of the photo, what appeared to be the basketball court, now looked ridiculously small, as if they'd been posed in a model. Christine towered over him, her legs extending out of the frame as if the photo couldn't contain her immensity.
New memories flooded Mark's mind, overlapping the old ones. Christine had never been simply "tall." She had been *enormous*. Since she was a child, she had been a prodigy of growth, towering over everyone around her by an incredible margin. Gossip and urban legends at school revolved around her size, her strength. She wasn't just the cheerleader captain; she was a phenomenon.
Her clothes, which in the previous reality had simply looked tight, now seemed to have been made for giants, but they still highlighted the magnitude of her physique. Every curve, every muscle, was magnified by its scale. The T-shirt, now that Mark saw it, wasn't just tight; it seemed as if the fabric was stretched precariously over the immense volume of her chest. Her shorts looked like they had been cut from canvas.
Mark leaned back in bed, his heart pounding. Reality had been rewritten again, this time in a way that defied comprehension. Christine wasn't just a tall girl; she was a colossus. How tall was she now? The photo didn't give exact clues, but the feeling was of something monumental. The thought of seeing her in person, of seeing that scale in her own world, sent a shiver down her spine, a mixture of awe and a growing, almost uncontrollable sense of power.
"Christine..." she whispered, the image of the giant Christine etched in her mind. This was just the beginning.
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