Trying to find new clothes was typically hassle enough. Needing to find any for a formal social event turned it into a nightmare! Shirts never quite fit right onto my awkwardly 6 foot frame. Having wider shoulders didnt exactly help matters either. Regardless of how many times I'd found ways to procrastinate, i eventually found myself in a changing room to sample a set of clothes.
The shirt I'd picked out wasnt anything extravagant. It was a simple dark blue buttoned shirt, which looked nice enough to fit into a formal setting. The pants were a dark chequered line style. Both went together fine. I wasnt exactly a connoisseur of fashion trends, nor were my co-workers at this upcoming dinner event. That was a fairly reassuring fact.
I slipped into the pants, one leg after the other. The fit felt pretty perfect. Maybe a little tight around the thighs, but it's not like I was going to be squatting at a dinner event. The shirt was next, as I pulled one arm through the first sleeve. Instantly there was a swamping feeling of the fabric wrapping around my back. Regardless, I didn't want to judge too soon though. The shirt reached around to my other arm, easily able to slip it through the sleeve. I could feel the fabric brushing my knuckles slightly, hanging way too low. Regardless, I continued to button it up. Perhaps I could just roll up these oversized sleeves.
Standing in my reflection revealed the shirt swamping my body. It almost looked like a blanket thrown over my shoulders! The shirt hung a finger length and a half below the button on the pants. It completely hid my physique underneath. I wondered if a shirt this oversized would look comical. Would my co-workers even notice the countless baggy folds stretched across it?
I continued to examine my reflection. Even raising my hands way above my head proved to be ineffective at shifting the shirt even an inch above my waistline. Yeah, I couldn't realistically wear this shirt without looking stupid. I decided it would be better to return it, and find something smaller. That was until I noticed something strange.
Brushing my fingers against the plastic buttons made me realise that the shirt almost felt...tighter. I'd never exactly worn much of a belly. I preferred to keep my abs showing. I didn't want all that hard in the gym work to look useless. Now though, I almost felt bloated! Sure, maybe I overdid it a little in the food court. But it sure as hell wasn't enough to give me such a bloated stomach...was it?
I barely had even a few seconds to think before the bloating around my stomach became more noticeable. Not just to my touch, but also to my sight. I could see the slight push against the shirt, forcing a slight bump out in the fabric. The buttons stretched across it, fitting into place like a book on a shelf. I watched for a second, looking closely. The shirt almost seemed to be getting smaller, fitting to my body as if it was tailored to my physique. Only it wasn't tailored at all. My body...was tailoring itself to fit the shirt!
My eyes widened in disbelief, seeing my own stomach betraying me! It was getting bigger, swelling up with an assortment of drawn out gurgles and grunts. It sounded like I'd chugged gallons worth of soda! Each growl was as ferocious as the last, lasting even longer. I clenched my stomach tightly, feeling a different texture than I was familiar with. It didn't even feel like I was holding my own body! The stomach in my hand did not have the firm flatness I'd trained to attain. Instead, it was like taking a handful of pizza dough!
I wasn't sure how large my stomach was getting, but I knew it was starting to fill out this shirt, and fast! Every second passing by felt like my gut was being pumped full of water. The shirt was starting to ride up, closer to the top of the pants I was sampling. Those were even tighter, having already fit my body a little too comfortably!
The pants were starting to constrict around my thighs, too. This couldn't have just been bloating. How on earth could that have also been causing my thighs to grow?! I stood there helplessly, watching my reflection change as if I were in a funhouse. What could I even do in this situation? Run out of the changing room and scream for help?
