Mirror mirror

Noticing the difference in perspective than she was accustomed to, slowly piecing it together. She’d grown from short to taller, almost average! Looking down was a bit difficult with her breasts in the way. Wait, that can't be right? Sizable C cups standing proudly on her chest, her tight dress causing a noticeable amount of cleavage. Her hands went to feel herself, everything had filled out a bit. A little giggle from her as her fingers ran down the faint ab lines.

Another flash in her mind, the image of not just her brother but everyone she'd ever known bowing to her massive body. All stirring and moving to please her, to worship her. She closes her eyes, daydreaming, letting her imagination run wild.

She stood above them—tall, still, vast as the sky behind her. The firelight caught on her skin, bronze and cold, wrapped in cloth that clung like mist. Her eyes held no warmth, only the weight of judgment.

Below her, men knelt in rows, foreheads pressed to stone, arms raised in reverence or fear—sometimes both. None dared look up. They felt her presence like pressure in the lungs. Heavy. Absolute.

She did not speak.

She did not move.

She only watched.

And in that silence, they knew she was not waiting for worship. She was measuring it.

Her fingers were ravishing her inner lips as the climax woke her from her day dream. Her body shuddered, she steadied herself against a stall as her legs wobbled.

Suddenly the door to the bathroom opened, her hazily looked up.

5’5”(+1”)
C(+)