Whatever Rowan had been expecting when she had been asked to come to Colonel Blanchard’s ‘office’, it hadn’t been what she was presented with; a vast, enclosed warehouse complex whose superficial purpose of housing aircraft appeared to be little more than a façade to conceal far more curious projects.

She could hear her own tiny footsteps echoing amidst the rest of the boots as she was escorted across the warehouse floor by two security guards. Ahead of her, elevated on a plinth surrounded by floodlights and men in long white coats, was the remains of the flying craft she’d seen the night before. Every inch of its charred, scattered remains were being furiously documented by the cluster of researchers. For a brief moment, Rowan wondered if that was going to be her experience from now on; strapped to a table to be relentlessly examined by a group of strangers.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces however, there was at least one that Rowan recognized. Colonel Blanchard stood just off to the side of the goings-on, conversing quietly with a gentleman with a bushy brown mustache and a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles. Upon noticing Rowan’s approach, Blanchard excused himself and strode over to meet her, extending his hand formally. Rowan accepted the shake before taking a step back, not feeling entirely comfortable around the military commander just yet.

“Good day to you young Miss. I’m glad you decided to come; my colleagues and I would be quite curious to know what you can tell us. Or better yet, show us.” There was a pause as the men around the wreckage paused in their examination, peering over at Rowan through bulbous black goggles. Her skin crawled at the sight of them, like overgrown insects gawking at something they were debating whether or not to eat.

“W-well,” she stammered, pushing past her nervousness as she recalled the sensation of the night prior, “it wasn’t r-really somethin’ I had a whole lot of control over, y’know? It was more of a… a feeling. My heart was poundin’ and I just wanted to go home and…” Her eyes unfocused slightly as she remembered the feeling of sprinting through the open desert, watching as the ground gradually receded around her. “Fact is, I don’t really know how much of it was really me. It felt… like… nothin’ I’ve ever felt before; it tingled something fierce deep in my belly and…”

Rowan’s cheeks went bright red as she became quite acutely aware that her clothes were considerably tighter than they had been a moment earlier. The buttons on her chest were straining against the immense bulge building beneath them, her mouth agape as her body slowly swelled. Her hips pushed the elastic hem of her dress to its limits as the buckles of her shoes burst open. Her mind railed in despair against the reality of the situation; if she got any bigger her clothes will be absolutely shredded, and she didn’t want to be nude in front of all these strange men.

But on the other hand, that feeling of superficial discomfort was rapidly overwhelmed by the sheer joy of feeling bigger. It wasn’t the sluggish, lethargic feeling of being ordinarily chubby or unfit; this was a sensation of delicious power. Nude or not, she wanted to keep growing!

The dress split apart with a sound of shredding fabric, the seams torn asunder as the buttons snapped free and spat across the open room. One of the discs was launched like a bullet, colliding with a staff member’s forehead with such force that he was knocked off his feet. A reactive gasp left the young woman’s throat as her growth spurt doubled in the space of a moment, articles of clothing tumbling left and right as her perspective of the situation shifted higher and higher.

Her arms lifted impulsively to embrace her ever swelling bosom, the touch of her fingers sending shivers of delight down her spine far greater than the action would ordinarily induce. The scientists scattered back away from her, trying to maintain their distance while still keeping their eyes on the unprecedented sight unfolding before them. For his part, Colonel Blanchard maintained his composure beautifully, not shifting from his spot as the little lady shot up taller with each passing moment. He muttered a few disbelieving words, but was otherwise silent.

After almost fifteen straight seconds of growth, Rowan’s head bumped into the ceiling and she dropped to her knees automatically, reaching up to rub her scalp. A feeling of unyielding heat was building rapidly in her stomach.

“Okay young lady, I think we’ve seen enough for now.” The Colonel said loudly, though not angrily or forcefully. Rowan’s eyes drifted to him lazily, looking at him as though through a haze. Several voices in her mind wrestled for control of her conscious actions. Some told her to do unspeakable things, others growled in a language she didn’t understand, and still others told her to give in to the impulses that clawed at her body. Her fingers tensed up and curled as though to reach down and snatch the Colonel off the ground like a doll.

But before she could make the movement, Rowan’s trump card played itself; her good heart. A long, drawn-out exhale of breath left her lungs as she slouched back on her heels, the sensation of immense bulk gradually fading as she shrank back down to her normal size. It took considerably longer than the growth had, perhaps because she was far more reluctant to let it happen this time.

Rowan’s eyes closed as she felt the process end, a feeling of intense embarrassment overtaking her as she wondered how her observers would react to her little display. She could hear the sound of footsteps quietly approaching her, and a moment later, the unfamiliar warmth of a jacket being slung around her shoulders. Opening her eyes to look up, she found Colonel Blanchard covering her up with his uniform, turning to the assembled company of lab-coats and clearing his throat.

“Get the young lady some new clothes; we’ll need plenty of them so make sure you’ve got spares.”

A murmur of acknowledgement rippled through the room as a few of the men set off, leaving their colleagues behind to whisper excitedly. As they did so, the Colonel knelt down beside Rowan and spoke in hushed tones.

“Young lady, you’ve got quite the gift there. As commander of this base, I’d like to offer you a job as a resident here. We would very much like to study your unique case, if you’ll permit us; I promise that as long as I’m around, no harm will come to you and you’ll be free to have whatever objects your heart desires… within reason.” He paused to let the words sink in. “Of course, you’ll have to stay within the confines of our base if you agree; this… incredible discovery can’t be seen by the world until we fully understand it.”

Rowan’s mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts: what about her father? What about her home? What about… wait…

“Can I make a request?”

“Of course.”

The young lady’s pleasant face lit up with a grin.

“I want you to give a job to a boy I know… WAIT… two boys.”

The Colonel smiled.

“I’m sure something can be arranged.”

“Well then, sir… I accept.” Rowan extended her hand to Colonel Blanchard, who took it respectfully and gave it a firm shake.

“I’m delighted to hear it Miss Rowan. I look forward immensely to working with you.”

The word ‘immensely’ lingered in the young woman’s mind…