Flash Commission: Customers for Life

“Why the fuck can’t I move, what the fuck did you do to me?”

“Billy, what’s fucking happening man?”

The two young men, Billy and Les, were standing ramrod straight in the haberdashery they’d entered a while earlier. The shop had looked ridiculous to the two college kids walking down the street--they’d gone in and started goofing off, trying on hats, laughing at the fancy suits and the price tags, until the proprietor had caught them. Now he had them naked in the back of the store, on pedestals in front of three sided mirrors, unable to move an inch.

“Alright boys, ready to get yourselves measured?” Mr. Grishold said, snapping his soft tape measure a couple of times.

“Let us go, you freak!” Billy said. He was the ringleader between the two of them, the alpha. He’d usually come up with some stupid idea, and Les would follow along happily.

“Now, now, you two come into my shop, toying with my things, wrecking my displays, and you think I’m going to let you go just like that? I think the two of you need a good dose of maturity, and luckily, I know I’m just the fellow who can give it to you. Now, let’s get you measured up, shall we? I think we’ll start with the mouthy one.”

Billy’s arms were up, and Mr. Grishold came up behind him, wrapped the tape around his muscled chest. When it was tight, however, something happened, and Billy watched in the mirror as his chest suddenly inflated, filling out with fat and...not just fat, what the fuck was wrong with his chest? When the old man took the tape away, he was left with two sagging breasts where his chest had been. “What the fuck did you do to me?” he said.

“Now now, it happens to many men as they get older, perfectly natural. Just hormones is all,” Mr. Grishold said, and gave one of Billy’s new mantits a squeeze. Now, moving on--or else we’ll be at this all afternoon!”

Mr. Grishold moved rapidly with his tape measure. Each time, he would measure a part of Billy’s body, and then it would change wildly. He grew a slight gut when he measured his torso, but it was his ass that was worst--it just kept growing, until he saw two massive, sagging globes hanging off his body behind him, offset in some ways by his new mantits above. His inseam shrunk, dragging him down with it to a new height of five foot four, his neck filled out with fat, arms and legs also growing meatier. When Mr. Grishold was satisfied, he moved onto Les, leaving Billy to stare at his new body in terror, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh! Nearly forgot!” Mr. Grishold said, came back, pulled out Billy’s cock and measured that too--only for it to shrink back to a one inch nub. He did the same with his balls, but instead of shrinking, they expanded into a massive, melon sized sack hanging low against his fat thighs. “That should do it--now onto you, Sir.”

Les received a similar treatment. It was his gut that grew most, expanding and expanding until it was a massive apron hanging down over his crotch. His inseam also shrunk, bringing him down to five foot six, with a small ass, rather skinny legs and arms. Mr. Grishold had to heft up the apron to get to his cock, but instead of it shrinking, Les’s rather small four inch cock grew longer and longer, stopping at ten inches, but with a small sack pulled up tight against the shaft. When the apron dropped down, he shuddered a bit from the sensation of the fat against his cock, and moaned a little. “Oh, someone’s already starting to enjoy their new body, eh? Maturity can be a pleasure, you know.”

“Fuck you, how are you doing this? Change us back!” Les said, struggling but still unable to move.

“Clyde!” Mr. Grishold shouted, and a young assistant came into the back. He handed him the measurements for both men. “Go find a couple fine suits for these gentlemen, will you?”

“Of course Mr. Grishold,” Clyde said, and hurried out onto the sales floor.

“Now, while we wait for those, we can go ahead and work on some styling issues. For one thing, the toupees and hair dye aren’t fooling anyone you two--best to be rid of them! Embrace your maturity!”

He went to Billy first, gripped the hair on his head, and gave a tug. Billy expected it to hurt, but the hair came away in his hand--leaving him with a nearly entirely bald scalp, aside for a thinning horseshoe of white hair around the back of his head. He did the same to Les, and the two of them stared at their new hairlines, while Mr. Grishold tossed the toupees in the trash can.

“Next, a little aging cream I think--the two of you need to look your age better. Then, we’ll take care of the rest of your hair.”

Mr. Grishold went over and pulled out a small wheeled cart covered with a variety of creams, ointments and oils. He took a little jar in his hand, after gloving up his own hand, and started smearing both of their faces with the concoction. It itched and burned, and when he wiped it away a few minutes later, both of their faces had aged decades. Between their hair and their new faces, it would be difficult to believe either of them were under seventy years old. He picked up a new cream then--this one he applied to Billy only. Billy was quite the hairy fellow, and Mr. Grishold applied this second cream everywhere, all over his body. When he’d finished, he went back and wiped it away--and all of the hair had disappeared. He’d even applied it across his face, sparing only the space above his lip and his eyebrows. Then, he took a tube of mustache wax, spread it across his upper lip, and started pulling a thick white mustache out, long enough to make a proper handlebar off each side of his mouth.

With Billy finished, he turned to Les. He received a different ointment all over his body--this one was absorbed into his skin, and Les’s skin began to itch all over, as every single follicle began to sprout a dense forest of white hairs all over his body, thick enough in some places to obscure his skin. Even his shoulders and back were covered, his arms down to the backs of his hands, and the tops of his feet. Mr. Grishold even applied it between his eyebrows, giving him a thick white unibrow. Then, a bottle of oil that he applied to his face, rubbed it, and used to cultivate a thick luscious beard, tugging and pulling it until it stretched down to the top of his gut, with a walrus mustache completely obscuring his mouth.

“Here you are Sir, I took the liberty of tailoring them to your specifications,” Clyde said, wheeling in a rack where two suits were hanging, ready to be worn by the two changed men.

“Excellent Clyde, I’ll be done here in a few more minutes, I think.”

“Of course Sir, I’ll watch the front.”

Clyde slipped away again, and suddenly, boh Billy and Les felt the paralysis that had been keeping them in that frozen position release, and both of them nearly tumbled over, their joints aching, their bodies unbalanced. “Alright my dear fellows, time to get dressed,” let’s start with these, of course,” he said, and handed them both a pair of underwear. When they touched them, they realized they were padded--and likely absorbent.

“No, what? I’m not wearing this, any of this. Change us back, please!” Billy said.

“Put it on,” Mr. Grishold said, “Or I’ll have to measure you again for something larger. Besides, we both know how much that little cock of yours likes to leak, William.”

Billy grunted, and felt something drool down the side of his fat thigh. He reached down and felt a line of pre from his tiny cock, still spewing it--and he wasn’t doing anything--he certainly wasn’t turned on by any of this! He pulled on the underwear, grimacing at how wet they became almost immediately. Les didn’t need to be told twice--he pulled on the underwear as well, only to feel a sudden urge to piss. He looked around, but it was too late--he’d already released it into the front of the absorbent underwear, and all three of them could smell the pang of piss on the air.

“Fuck Les, what the fuck!”

“I couldn’t stop it Billy, I don’t know!”

“Now, now, men of your age are prone to incontinence--and impotence, but at least we have a pill for one of them. Be nice William, or I’ll give you a proper diaper next.”

The two of them put on their suits next, Mr. Grishold helping them with each part. Neither of them had worn a suit so well tailored, or starched, or with so many pieces before. When they were finished, both of them looked the part of elderly gentlemen fitted for brand new suits.

“Now, just a couple of finishing touches. For you, William, cigars I think, and for you Lester, pipes.” He went to the cart, pulled a cigar, punch and lighter and tucked them in the pockets of Billy’s suit. He did the same for Les with a pouch of pipe tobacco, a sizable pipe, pipe tool and matches. “And finally, no trip to my haberdashery is complete without a new hat.” He took two bowler caps, each one obviously belonging to their respective suit colors. “I think we’ll start with Lester this time--what do you say?”

He dropped the hat on his head, and Lester froze for a moment, went a little cross eyed, and then shook his head. “My goodness, Mr. Grishold, another fine pair of suits--perhaps the finest we’ve ever bought from you.”

“L-Les?” Billy said. His friend’s voice sounded completely different. Deeper and scratchier, with a more measured tone.

“Honeybear, what did you call me?” Lester said, “Do I look like I’m five years old? I only answer to Lester, you know that.”

“What...what did you do?” Billy asked Mr. Grishold.

“My, look at my little honeybear though, your suits are ever so flattering, Mr. Grishold,” Lester said, and then leaned in towards Billy’s ear and growled into it, “When we get home, I’m gonna pop my fucking pill, eat that massive fucking ass out, scour it with my fucking beard, and then plow your piggy hole for a fucking hour.”

Billy lurched away, horrified by the sudden sadism he could hear in Lester’s voice, the sexual hunger. He backed away, right into Mr. Grishold. He looked up, and saw the hat hovering over his head. “No, please!”

“Now now, William, never come into a shop without intending to make a purchase, that’s just rude.” He dropped the hat onto his head, and Billy’s face went limp for a moment, until William shook himself off, straightened the bowler on his head, and admired his wide ass in the mirror. “It’s just as Lester said, you’re a master of your craft, Mr. Grishold.”

“Please my dear fellows, I think you can address me by my first name, I’ve known you both for years now.”

“I would never insult a craftsman in his place of business. Now, if you were to come over for supper tonight and stay for a nightcap, I could be inclined to call you whatever name you’d like, Sir,” William said. “Now, shall we settle our payment?”

They paid their substantial bill at the desk with Clyde, and then the two elderly lovers left the shop, pausing outside so William could light his cigar, while Lester packed his pipe and lit it. Then the two of them were off, heading towards their condo a few blocks down--eager to get the rest of their afternoon underway. Later that evening, Mr. Grishold would have the pleasure of seeing both of them out of their suits yet again--and to have that slutty old pig William begging for his cock in his hole, while Lester ate out his ass, groping his impotent cock through his piss sodden underwear. It was just good customer service after all--Mr. Grishold only made customers for life.