The Cerulean Suit

(CW: Inflation)

Commission for Anonymous

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“Good work today,” Edwin’s co-worker placed a mug of coffee on his desk. They gave him a firm pat on the back and peeked over his shoulder. They studied his screen and laughed gently. “Burning the midnight oil again huh?” They said and took a long drink from their own mug.

“It’s just how I am,” Edwin replied.

“Trying to catch the boss’s attention?”

“Not really. I just figure that if I should do something, I should do it big. You know?”

That elicited another laugh from the moustached man. His stomach bounced like an untethered weather balloon from his mirth, his white shirt straining against his skin with the barest hint of pink flesh peaking between the buttons. Edwin was always surprised by how the man kept his dignity around the office, his clothes always looked one deep breath away from bursting off his body.

“Well keep up the good work. I’ve got a lovely long haired gentleman caller waiting for me at that new sushi restaurant, the one they opened in the fancy part of town.” He gave Edwin another one of those hard pats on the back, knocking the wind out of him. He wasn’t someone Edwin disliked, he just wished he was a little less hands on. As relaxed as the office was, however, he thought better of giving anything that be construed as an attitude to his floor manager.

“Enjoy your evening sir,” Edwin gave him a smile and waved him off towards the elevators. “Alright, now, where was I?”

Edwin took a drink of the coffee his floor manager had left for him. It was decadent with high quality cream and too much sugar for his taste, but it was still better than instant, and a far cry from the tepid brown water they kept for the staff at his last job. There were a lot of mysteries and unanswered questions he had about his new employer, where they got their coffee from wasn’t top of the list, but it was close.

Edwin had been working for Verdant Hills Trading for about three months. His undertakings were purely administrative. Keeping track of correspondences between clients, making sure the right department received the right orders for daily operations, and writing up the financial reports for the group’s textile sector. It was a high stakes job, though not high pressure. The working hours were shorter than any nine to five he had previous, breaks were plentiful, and he was given a generous volume of vacation days to use up before November. It was the first time in five years he didn’t have to worry about whether he’d have enough paid leave to visit family or friends.

So something had to be wrong with the place, obviously.

Edwin didn’t notice anything outwardly sinister working at the office. There were a few eccentrics, that was typical: the office gossip, the chronic over sharer, and the workaholic. Whose role Edwin felt like he was usurping as he opened a fresh document to begin his fifth report of the night. The closest thing he could place to an oddity was the roundness of everyone he worked with, especially when compared to himself. Even the janitor mopping the floors, a few feet from his desk, seemed positively gargantuan measured against him.

Edwin felt envious. He was a man of average height, described more as chubby than outright fat. When the physique he acquired from his short-lived workout addiction softened and padded his body, he didn’t feel compelled to tone it back up and slim down; but gaining weight was expensive and he was often too busy to cook elaborate, filling meals.

A chime brought Edwin out of his thoughts. The elevator doors opened and a well-dressed man he had never seen on the floor approached his desk. Practically spherical, like Edwin’s co-workers, dressed in a taut but form fitting three piece suit the colour of red wine. It was so shiny it could have been mistaken for latex, but once he was closer the double woven patterning of sharkskin revealed itself. He placed an envelope in front of Edwin and nodded politely.

“Your work has not gone unnoticed,” he said. The man towered over Edwin’s desk, casting a wide circular shadow that made him feel small and meek.

“Pardon?” Edwin said, rubbing his eyes. He was a touch delirious from the long hours. He swore he heard straining rubber.

“Mister Greenhill sent me,” the man continued. Edwin tried not to stare at his globular form, he wondered how the man bent over to pick things up, if he even could.

“He would like to apologize for not being able to speak with you in person, the activities of the company head are demanding and leave little time for fraternization... but he hopes you are acclimatizing to the environment here at Verdant Hills - and in the case you are not - he hopes this will assist in making you feel more comfortable.” The man’s professional demeanour broke for a moment, revealing a coy smirk that made Edwin feel like he had missed an obvious punchline to a joke.

Edwin took the envelope. It was thick and made from expensive paper, it seemed wasteful to risk tearing by opening it up. “What is it?”

“A suit.” The man in the red suit focused his gaze, silently insisting that Edwin hurry up and look inside.

Edwin opened the letter.

“More accurately, it’s an appointment for a fitting.”

Edwin balked at the address. “I can’t afford this, this is Pnuemis and Gordon!”

The man simply nodded. “All company employees are mandated to attend a fitting at Pnuemis and Gordon. While you may not see many people in your department wearing their patented suits, they do own them. In case they’re necessary for formal events, company meetings, etcetera. You will be compensated for the cost. So please, place your trust in their expertise and arrive promptly tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp,” he turned on his heel and marched back towards the elevator. “Oh and Edwin?” He said over one shoulder.

“Yes sir?”

“Don’t wear anything too restricting around the middle when you arrive.”

***

Edwin arrived half an hour early for fear of being late. He wore comfortable slacks, a white shirt and his favourite suspenders. He looked up at the gilded shop sign in disbelief. Pneumis and Gordon was a small ornate boutique which catered to the needs of the big and tall; the exceptionally big and tall. Why he was asked to shop here at the behest of his employers was still baffling to him. More so when he pushed the beautiful mahogany door to enter the store, greeted by a bell chime and a single employee.

“Ah, you must be Edwin,” asked a plump older man. He recognized him as Caspian L. Gordon, one half of the tailoring duo which ran the boutique. He was on the shorter side, with wide hips and a rounded face. His hair was dull white and scraped back into a low ponytail by a silver band, which travelled down his back and nearly reached his bum. As expected of a master tailor, his clothes were impeccable. Though the garish purple of his waistcoat and striped trousers, when married with the golden flower decals and vertical pinstripes, did make him look like a magician.

“I was told to come for a fitting?”

Caspian checked his watch. “You’re a little early but fortune does favour the bold, as they say. Would you care to be seen now or would you like a cup of tea?”

“I’d like to just begin if that’s alright with you, mister Gordon.”

He nodded and stepped into the back of the shop, “I’ll not be long, feel free to browse.”

The portly tailor had a soothing tone, with the measured cadence of a practised orator. Edwin was glad for that, it helped put him at ease. He had never been fitted for a suit before, let alone one that cost the brunt of his yearly salary. Even with the company footing the bill, he felt a financial weight on his shoulders taking in the array of beautiful clothes surrounding him. The piece of clothing which caught his eye was a cerulean two-piece suit, hung on one of, if not THE largest mannequin Edwin had seen in his life.

Caspian returned brimming with a smile. “Alright, let’s get you fitted. You can keep your shirt on though you will have to strip down to your underwear. Are you going to be... keeping those suspenders?” He gestured to Edwin’s blue suspenders.

Edwin complied. He followed the directions given to him and stood on a fitting stand. He waited to be measured but arched a brow as Caspian directed him to step into the ridiculously wide pants, then anchored them by clipping them to his suspenders.

“Um, mister Gordon, this is too big.”

“Oh, not for long,” Caspian whistled, then draped the suit jacket over Edwin’s shoulders. “Have you ever worn a piece of my clothing before? Any friends with a taste for the larger life, someone who might have loaned you some underwear or a shirt to give them a try?”

Caspian’s strange commentary aside, Edwin did his best to seem presentable. He fidgeted with the enormity of the fabric, but he couldn’t change how dwarfed he felt by their size. They were made for a man at least three times his size. Even the wide bellied floor manager, who filled out his work clothes within an inch of their life, would be hard pressed to fit the dimensions of the two-piece Caspian had given him. By all accounts it didn’t make sense, this man was in high demand. How could he have made this mistake?

The whole ordeal reminded him of when he was a little boy, trying on his father’s clothing. Like his youth, his wrists didn’t even come close to clearing the sleeves. He fidgeted nervously, trying to balance the jacket on his shoulders, in case it slipped from his too-small body and crumpled on the floor. It would have been a shame to mistreat such a fine outfit, mismatches aside. Unlike his youth, however, his shoes fit. Though he felt the weight of his suspenders to the sides of his neck, struggling to hold up the heavy pants.

“You may want to brace yourself.”

Caspian draped a tie around Edwin’s neck and fastened it with a gentle hand. The air on Edwin’s arms stood on end, as a jolt of electricity ran through his entire body. Caspian said something he couldn’t hear, something sonorous and powerful. It left him feeling incredibly hungry, like his stomach had become hollow. Then, quickly as the hunger came, it diminished. A fullness of body spread through him like a wildfire.

Edwin blinked. “I’m sorry wh--”

A powerful hiss filled the room. Its airy whine making Edwin look around anxiously for the source. He was then stunned to find its origins were the clothes he had placed on his body by Caspian, which were rapidly adhering to his skin as he grew to meet their dimensions. “What’s happening to me!?” Edwin cried out, jaw dropping.

“Did no one tell you? Oh dear oh dear,” Caspian said. “I was told to prepare a balloon suit, with extra emphasis on the curvature. It seems like you’re the last to know.”

Edwin had a view of himself from multiple directions thanks to the positioning of the mirrors in the shop. He stood perfectly still, terrified that if he moved, he might somehow make the process worse. At first, he believed it was just his stomach which stretched out in front of him, but his hips and his chest were blowing up in unison, giving him a comically spherical silhouette. “Am I going to be okay!?”

Caspian took a seat away from the platform, pouring himself some tea. “Oh quite alright. You suit that look, you know.”

He went cross eyed. The sensation of blowing up like a balloon was, to put it mildly, a new sensation. Everything from below his neck to his waist tingled. Inch by rubbery inch, it stretched and ironed out the creases in the cerulean sharkskin. Its artisan stitched fabric pulling taut, then it kept tightening, stretching with an elasticity it shouldn’t have possessed. “What if I blow up, I could burst!”

Caspian laughed at that, “oh don’t be silly, it takes far more effort than you might think to pop a man of your constitution.”

The notion that he could pop, just not right now, wasn’t comforting.

Edwin made a noise halfway between a sigh and a delighted whimper. His suspenders dug into the rolling curve of his body. It pulled so tight around his equator, that it formed two dimpled lines against his belly. The tension was pleasant, erotic even. Edwin’s initial panic was starting to fade away as he stared at himself in the mirrors. From every angle, he struggled to recognize himself.

His face was largely unchanged, but it sat atop an enormous balloon. His arms and legs were fully functional. They didn’t inflate with his middle, but they felt clumsier, as Edwin flailed adjusting to their new resting angle. Growing so round had left him unable to relax his arms fully, when limp, they rested on the sides of his sphere. His legs were even more of a gambit to regain control of. He couldn’t see them over his own horizon. He just had to make an educated guess that when he took a step, he would find solid ground.

He didn’t find solid ground; Edwin slipped, then bounced like a beachball.

“Oh, it feels kind of... good?” Edwin giggled. “It feels really good, actually. And it looks good too.” He smiled wide, admiring himself from multiple angles.

Caspian patted him on the side and joined in the laughter. “Then you will probably be heartbroken to learn that I need to deflate you to fit you back through the door. Though there’s no need to rush things. I’m sure your boss will be quite happy to see your new figure matches your contributions to the company.”

Edwin smiled placidly. “Why deflate? If this is going to be a regular thing, I should get some practice!” He said, letting the air go to his head as well as his torso. He bounced merrily to the doorway and squeezed himself, or more accurately, wedged himself, into the doorway. The portal had been reinforced as Caspian had probably dealt with this exact scenario in the past, and it held tight as Edwin’s lower half bulged cartoonishly, filling with displaced air as he squeezed his upper half through.

The tension inevitably gave way and Edwin shot from the shop doorway like a rubber ball. He bounced, thankfully weightlessly, against the side of his parked car. When he rose to his feet, he grimaced. The realization that he would no longer fit in his car ever again hit him.

“I’ll just… call an extra wide taxi.”