Perfect Fit: Dress-up

Commissioned by darkhead999.

I posted this a while ago on DA, but I thought it belonged here as well. Enjoy!

Claire put the magic bracelet on and looked over the pile of clothes in front of her. She had poured out the contents of the shopping bag right onto the floor of the attic. Now, it was time to play dress-up.

She picked through the pile, trying to find the best article of clothing to wear to begin her experimenting. She thought she might start small, something simple, something subtle. Near the bottom of the pile she discovered a pair of black athletic ankle socks.

“Perfect,” she said, looking at the label attached to the plastic that joined them together. They were for women’s shoe sizes 11 to 13, the biggest ones she could find.

Claire sat on the floor and removed her shoes and then her socks. She double-checked the size for her shoes. “Six,” she said aloud. Only recently, since she had turned twelve, did she start to wear women’s sizes. Now, she was about to double the number. She cut off the plastic from the new socks, sat on the floor, and slipped them on her feet. They fit her loosely with plenty of space to fill.

Then, her feet began to fill the space.

Stretching and expanding, her soles spread out and her toes grew further from her heels. Claire watched her little feet enlarge in astonished silence. Her grandmother had given her the bracelet and instructed her on how it worked, but Claire had not allowed herself to believe it was real until now with the proof of its power occurring right before her eyes. It was real. Magic was real!

Once the socks fit tightly on her feet, the growing ceased. She flexed her oversized toes, testing that the big feet at the end of her skinny legs were real. She peeled off the socks, revealing her woman-sized bare feet. Her little hands explored the contours of her enormous toes. Still, she struggled to accept what the bracelet had done to her. She stood up and felt so much more balanced with such a large, stable base to keep her standing up straight.

She lifted one foot and noted its much more obvious weight. “Hobbit girl,” she said, setting down her foot and chuckling. Then, she moved her foot next to her shoe to compare sizes. Not only would it no longer fit her, she could even hide the entire shoe beneath her foot.

Claire turned her attention to the bracelet, such an ordinary looking thing, tarnished brass, unornamented. No one would think it was anything but a regular piece of old jewelry. She removed it from her wrist, and looked down at her feet again. They shrank away before her eyes, slowly dwindling down to their regular size 6 proportions.

“Nice,” Claire said. “It’s like she told me. The changes stay until the bracelet is removed.” She put the bracelet back on and said, “All right, let’s have some fun.”

To give herself a clean slate, she stripped naked and set her clothes on an old wooden chair next to a cracked mirror that they had relegated to attic storage. She took a moment to look over her body. It was an embarrassment. Unlike other girls her age, she had few curves to show off. There were hints of adulthood visible, barely noticeable mounds up top and only the slightest curves around her hips. Aside from those features, she was a child still, short and skinny and plain as vanilla ice cream.

She thought back to her early childhood, playing dress-up in front of this mirror, acting like a fairytale princess. This walk up attic had been her play room and many of her toys were still here. She looked over at the abandoned doll house, and thought of her Babra dolls. She had so many outfits for them, so many characters for them to play. Again, she looked at the bracelet and realized that she now had an even larger doll to play with, herself.

Claire went back to the clothes pile and slipped the socks back on. Once more, her feet grew to fill them. Then, she pulled out the underwear from the pile, a large pair of panties and a bra with cups almost large enough to fit her head inside of each of them.

“Go big or go home,” she said, ignoring the fact that she was home at that moment even if her parents were not.

She stepped her big feet into the panties and pulled them up to her waist. She had to hold them in place to keep them from slipping right back down her legs. A moment later, her ass began to swell up, inflating with fat and muscle as her skin stretched out to contain all that flesh. She felt her pelvis extend, spreading wider, broadening her hips. Seconds later, she had an ass so large and wide that she worried about being able to fit down the narrow staircase that led up to the attic.

“Better balance it out,” Claire said.

She slipped her arms into the bra and fastened the straps shut in the back. Her chest began to grow to fill the cups. She felt the weight of her ripening breasts pull on her shoulders. As a kid she had stuffed water balloons into her bathing suit to pretend to be a grown up. This felt very much the same, only she could feel the balloons. They were hers, her own flesh and skin. Her hands cupped her expanding chest, feeling the increasing mass of them, staring in silent amazement as they became bigger and bigger, outgrowing her hands. They reached a size she would have been satisfied to have and kept on growing. Soon, they had become ridiculous balls of flesh, resting heavily in the cups of the bra.

Claire looked at herself in the mirror and burst out laughing. She saw herself, still a girl in most respects, only now her ass and tits were stripper sized. She realized that all of the new weight would have caused her to tip over if her feet were not bigger as well. In fact, the weight on her chest was putting a lot of strain on her shoulders and back just to keep herself upright. Her legs were struggling as well under all the new weight above them. She doubted she could see her own feet without a bit of leaning or even walk more than a few steps like this, which was confirmed when she tried to bend over and pick up a pair of sweat pants and nearly toppled forward into the pile.

She sat down, appreciating the padding provided by her huge butt. Then, she pulled the sweat pants over her huge feet and up her legs. The waist of the sweat pants fit over her butt, but only barely. Still sitting, she stretched her legs out straight in front of her, noting how much folded fabric was left in the pants, plenty of room to grow.

Her legs began to lengthen out. She watched the folds slowly stretch flat as her huge feet slid further and further away from her. Soon, she was almost afraid of how long her legs were getting. Her feet seemed to be escaping from her, getting so far away that she could hardly believe that they were still a part of her body, and her legs were not even done growing yet. As they continued to elongate, she became aware of her legs’ increasing thickness as well. Her thighs were growing in weight to better match her huge ass while the rest of her legs became more shapely overall. The growing stopped once her sweats were pulled to their full length.

Claire wiggled her toes and saw the distant feet do as she commanded. They were not hers. Nope. There was no way they could belong to her and be that far from her. And yet, they moved. She bent her knees and drew her legs in closer to her. Her hands traced the curves of her thighs and calves, feeling all the new mass added there, convincing herself that they were hers now.

She stumbled to her large feet and had a sense that she was standing on stilts. The already short vaulted ceiling was now much closer to her head. Any more growth, and she might end up with a nasty bump on top of it. She looked past her enormous breasts down at her feet, staring in awe at them from such a great new height.

“Almost there,” Claire said, feeling adulthood now only a few articles of clothing away. She decided it was time to go all in, no more piecemeal changes, throw on the rest of the clothes that remained in the pile.

She knelt down and picked up her sweat shirt and gardening gloves, both sized for adults. On went the sweatshirt, followed by the gardening gloves. The changes they caused were far less noticeable. Overall, her torso and arms lengthened slightly, gaining thickness throughout. Her strained shoulders and back felt strengthened and solidified. Those pendulous breasts did not change at all, but they still felt smaller as the rest of her chest grew behind them, supporting them with greater ease and comfort.

The changes slowed to a halt, and she took a minute to examine her new upper body. First, she removed the gardening gloves to see her new hands. Revealing them felt like unwrapping presents. She lifted them up before her face and admired the elegant length of her fingers, flexing them and spreading them out, imagining what a ring might look like on one of them. Gone were her sorry little girlish hands. She lifted the tips of her mature fingers to her young lips and kissed them. Then, she let those fingertips run over the curves of her longer arms and broadened ribcage, feeling their way down to her hips, which now more closely matched the size of her upper body even while being comparatively large. Again, she cupped her breasts. They were huge still and heavy still, but to a less absurd degree. Now at least, her body seemed more proportional and slightly less unlikely.

Claire realized there was something missing then. A quick check in the bag revealed a wig that had not remained in it. She unpackaged it, doubting if the bracelet would recognize it as something “worn.” She flipped the long blonde hair of it over her own short mousey brown hair and settled the base of the wig on her head. Her scalp tingled as her hair grew out long beneath the wig, extending out from the edges of the wig base on her scalp and growing to match the length of the wig hair above it. She grabbed a lock of her growing hair and watched as it faded and brightened to match the color of the wig hair. The growing continued until her own hair and the wig hair were identical. She removed the wig and felt the weight of her own long luxurious blonde hair resting on her back.

She stood up and nearly bumped her head against the ceiling rafters, but luck was on her side. Her head moved into the peak of the roof where there was just enough space to accommodate her new height. She looked to the mirror, ready to gaze at her gorgeous new self, only to find immediate disappointment.

“Oh no,” Claire said, lifting her hands to her cheeks. “I changed everything but my face.”

She had bought no mask or anything else that might cover her face. While the rest of her body was tall and shapely and mature, her face was still that of an innocent little 12-year-old girl. While she might be able to pretend to be a grown up with a “baby face” if people questioned her age, she would know the truth. Ultimately, this new body was only a costume for a little girl. She was only playing dress-up again as she had done here so many times before.

“Give it a look,” Claire urged herself, turning her attention from her face. “Take it all off.”

So, she stripped everything off. The sweatshirt was pulled up and over her head, making her thread her new hair through it as it went. Then, she dropped her sweatpants to her feet and stepped out of them. Off came her socks, letting her big feet stand bare on the rug below. She admired herself for a moment, now dressed only in her underwear. It was a sexy body, a bit too tall and curvy for her tastes. She silently chided herself for reaching for the biggest of everything that was not in the “plus sizes” section. Next time, she would make sure to plan out her proportions with greater care.

The underwear came off. She slipped her panties down and let them fall to her feet. Then, she undid the clasp of her bra and let the weight of her breasts hang free. She was shocked by the bush of hair that had covered her crotch, a definite escalation from the few scattered hairs she had been welcoming in the past year. Higher up, the darkness of her areola and nipples surprised her. Her little pink nips had gotten huge and taken on a more reddish brown hue. She gripped her nipples in her fingers and felt a pleasant stimulation from her own touch. A bit of fondling started to make her nipples stiffen and grow and  stirred a sympathetic excitement in her crotch. This was not the first time she had touched herself, but it was the first time her body had reacted so intensely.

Just as she was about to slip a hand down to her crotch to play with herself there as well. There was a knock at the door to the attic behind and below her.

She spun and covered her crotch with one hand while wrapping her arm across her nipples with the other, half-expecting to find someone peeping at her from behind.

“Claire,” her grandmother called to her. “Dinner will be ready soon. Come down and get the table ready.”

“Y-yes,” Claire said and was relieved to hear her voice still sounding as young as she hoped it would. “I’ll just be a minute or two.”

“What are you doing up there?” The old woman sounded suspicious.

“Just… trying on some new clothes I bought.”

“Using the bracelet?”

“Well,” Claire said. “Maybe.”

“I hope you did not spend all the money your parents left you. It’s supposed to last you for weeks until they return from their trip.”

Claire thought about the receipt in the bag. There was some money left but not much. “I’m being careful,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

“Take off the bracelet and come down for dinner,” her grandmother said with a sigh. “You can play dress-up some other time.”

“Yes, Grandma,” Claire said and waited as her grandmother’s footsteps departed from the attic door.

Then, Claire turned her attention back to the mirror and the tall, shapely woman reflected in it with her oddly immature face. It hurt her to give up this body now, but she knew she could get it back again later. So long as she was the only one to wear the clothes, they would still work with the bracelet as they had done just now. And, if she could find the money, she could try on other outfits, other bodies.

She removed the bracelet and watched with increasing sadness as her body deflated and shrank, losing its shapeliness and height, dropping her out of adulthood back into her awkward adolescence. When she was back to her normal age and size, she felt weakened and diminished in ways that were deeper than could be weighed on a scale or measured with a ruler. After a great sigh, she turned from the mirror and dressed herself as fast as she could back into the old clothes she had left on the chair. Then, she headed downstairs for dinner, leaving her new clothes and the bracelet behind to wait for her in the attic.

I write mature transformation fiction: fantasy and sci-fi stories where characters change ages, sizes, genders, etc. For more info, email me at lostandwhatever@gmail.com

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