Tristan returned after about ten minutes, covered in paint and wearing a shit-eating grin from ear to ear. Ivey hooted playfully and Tristan broke into a full smile. Caitlin couldn’t help but laugh as well. Tristan looked her way and nodded in Ivey’s direction, making Caitlin blush again. Having had people gazing at her all day like Lilliputians at Guillivera, it was comforting to have someone not look at her with lust, shock, wonder, or some combination of the three. Sure, part of it had to do with Tristan and Nicole having just fucked with reckless abandon, but Caitlin was grateful nonetheless.

With a quick yank Ivey pulled Caitlin to her feet and toward the door, waving her farewells to Tristan. Caitlin barely managed to duck in time to miss the door jam. “Hey!” she yelped. “What’s the hurry?”

“We’ve got to get you some clothes,” Ivey replied unabated, dragging Caitlin across the road. A car stopped for them and she could make out the fascinated eyes of its driver. Caitlin imagined she and Ivey looked like a scaled up version of a child pulling a full grown adult.

"Why are you rushing?" Caitlin protested. "It’s barely 4:00 pm, nothing’s closed yet."

“Name me one place in town we can find clothes that can fit you.” Ivey replied. Caitlin didn’t have to ponder that one very long. "Exactly." Ivey continued, "Now, if you hurry up I'll have you dressed for success in no time."

“You know of some super-secret WNBA big-tall-and-freakish superstore?”

“No, but I know where I can get you clothes.” Ivey said, beeping her car unlocked. “Hurry up and get in.”

Caitlin took one look at Ivey’s yellow VW bug, and snorted. “Are you kidding me?”

“Shush. You aren’t that humongous.”

…but humongous nonetheless. Caitlin thought, crouching low and assessing the vehicle’s interior. It was one of the newer VW models, and much roomier than she would have expected. Regardless, she had a hard time picturing herself wedging into it. “I am not going to fit in there,” she said, gesturing at the small interior.

Ivey rolled her eyes dramatically, in an expression that Caitlin felt made her look like as strange combination of Nicole and Maureen. “Get in," Ivey continued impatiently, "or I yank your giant self in here.”

“Will you lay off the size comm…” Ivey abruptly grabbed Caitlin’s arm and did exactly as she had warned, pulling Caitlin clumsily into the vehicle. Ivey drew in Caitlin’s arm like a thick rope, and Caitlin clumsily fell into the vehicle, landing face-first in Ivey’s lap.

“We’ve got to keep meeting like this,” Ivey said, smiling. Caitlin replied with muffled profanity, while Ivey, undaunted, grabbed the waistband of Caitlin’s jeans, tugging her both further into the vehicle and out the open driver’s side door. Caitlin fussed, kicking her legs wildly, but her movements were restricted in the confined space, and her shoulder hit the horn drawing unwanted attention to their ordeal. Ivey calmly reached across Caitlin’s back to the glove box to retrieve her sunglasses, but was unable to completely open it with Caitlin’s hips in the way.

“Hey, could you move your ass? I can’t open my glove box.”

“Damn it!” Caitlin yelled, still writhing about from below. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Ignoring Caitlin’s protests, Ivey retrieved her sunglasses and started the car, with both doors open and Caitlin hanging out of each side. Caitlin finally relented and Ivey waited patiently as Caitlin grunted, groaned, and compacted herself into the passenger seat. Putting the seat all the way back, Her knees still reached the dash, but fortunately her head only grazed ceiling. All the while Ivey scanned radio stations, settling on a jazz station and humming along softly as she pulled into traffic.

“You ever listen to Miles Davis?”

“Are you going to apologize for assaulting me?” Caitlin huffed.

“This one’s ‘Blue in Green.’ I could listen to this song for hours.”

“My clothes fit bad enough as it is. Now I’ve got a wedgie from hell to go with it.” Caitlin fidgeted, trying her best to renegotiate space inside Tristan’s borrowed pants, which fit snugly around her hips. Fortunately, some borrowed undergarments from her older, stockier sister had alleviated her need for underwear. If things kept up at this pace, however, she soon be one of the more unusual cases to walk into a Lane Bryant. Ivey still hummed along to the instrumental solo. Caitlin was perplexed by Ivey's perpetually even temperament.“You aren’t like normal people are you?”

Ivey laughed softly. “You’re a fine one to talk.”

"Touché." Caitlin changed the subject. “So, where are we going?”

“The Northshore Community College Theater Company.”

“Why there?”

“Clothing hun. We may go out tonight after dinner and, no offense, but I won’t be seen with you looking like you do.”

Caitlin tightened her lips with indignation, before reassessing her wardrobe and resigning, “None taken.”

* * * *

Only a few miles down the main road from the shopping center, Ivey pulled into the parking lot of the performance hall and escorted Caitlin inside. An old building that the NCC performing arts department had been built around, Caitlin groaned at the low lobby ceilings, which lied a few inches below her current height. Ivey squeezed Caitlin’s hand in consolation, but did not look back as she led Caitlin briskly to the backstage area at the rear of the building. The theater was mostly deserted, and while Caitlin could hear a few voices, she was thrilled not to encounter anyone as she crouched through the corridor backstage. After a few turns in the backstage labyrinth, Caitlin could make out light peeking under a pair of doors. She also clearly heard late-90s teen pop blaring from inside, and an effeminate male voice singing at full volume. Caitlin felt an uneasy feeling in her gut as Ivey rapped on the metal double-door loudly. The singing only grew louder, and after a few moments Ivey knocked again. The voice behind the door continued its crescendo, and Caitlin, impatient from being cramped in yet another hallway, slammed on the door with her open palm, making a racket which echoed throughout backstage.

“WHAAA-AAAAT?” the voice whined as the door shot open revealing a tanned, thin young man dressed in bright red form-fitting jeans and a white tank top. “Ivelene you know I don’t like to be interrupted mid-chor…” He gasped in shock upon noticing the single largest person he had ever seen. Blinking rapidly, he looked back and forth between the two girls, before finally pointing at Caitlin and asking, “Is this for me?” Ivey smiled and nodded. The flamboyant young man’s demeanor abruptly changed to one of uninhibited animation. He grabbed Caitlin by the arm and led her into a cavernous dressing room with clothes of all styles and sizes hanging from racks, draped over chairs, and piled in corners.

“I have to apologize, we’ve just wrapped our one-act festival and this place is an absolute sty.” He positioned Caitlin in the middle of the room and whipped out a measuring tape, stopping for a swift introduction. “Where are my manners?” he said suddenly, taking her hand. "I’m Frederick, and I’ll be your wardrobe, hair, and makeup this evening.” Frederick kissed her hand, and Caitlin recoiled as if she’d just been licked by a toad.

“Sure, whatever,” Caitlin replied curtly, glancing about for Ivey. Ivey had seated herself at the edge of the room and had extracted a magazine from underneath a pile of clothes. Caitlin frowned, and turned her attention back to Frederick. “You think you’re going to have my size?”

“We do a monthly Rocky Horror and a few drag other shows. I get every size and shape you could imagine,” Frederick explained as he darted the measuring tape all about her frame faster than Caitlin could brush him away. He took a look at the tape pinched in his fingers and his eyes widened “And might I say you are certainly broadening my imagination. I’ve got what you need, but you’ll have to give me a minute to pull the stuffing out of it. Some of our gentlemen dressers like their curves, shall we say, generously protuberant?”

Caitlin tried to imagine a man wearing any of these clothes, let alone the brassiere she knew she would need. “Geez, how big are the guys that come in here?"

“Well that’s a bit of a personal question, wouldn’t you say dear?” Frederick shrieked with laughter. “I’m just awful!!!” Caitlin was impatient and repeated her question.

“Oh, you’d be surprised. Let’s just say that a few of our basketball stars really enjoy playing in the men's league,” he winked. “Of course, I’ve never had any men or women in here quite as big as you,” he said, following it up with a nudge on the side of her breast. “Definitely not.” Caitlin firmly swatted his hand away, and Frederick smiled.

“Mmmm. Don’t get snappy hon. I’ve got some foundation garments for those extraordinary leading ladies of yours.”

Caitlin groaned, and looked to Ivey again, who remained occupied by the magazine. Ivey grinned, clearly following the conversation, but opting not to participate.

Frederick disappeared and reappeared in moments with an armful of bras that seemed absurdly large to Caitlin, until he handed a few to her. She chose the most fashionable one she could find and gaped at the tag, which read "38G." She held the expansive construct of lace and steel up to herself. It seemed appropriately scaled to her size, which both relieved and horrified her. Frederick interpreted Caitlin's response as excitement. “I’ve got a few more items in the back. What say you slip into your intimates while I’m gone?” Caitlin’s eyes narrowed, and Frederick put his hands gently over his face as he shuffled to the back. “Oh, I know. No peeking!”

Caitlin kicked the costume door shut behind Frederick, and Ivey stepped into the hallway, providing Caitlin some privacy. Finally alone, Caitlin immediately switched out of Tristan's pants for some daisy-duke sweat shorts, which stopped at her upper thigh. They were hardly fashionable, but Caitlin couldn't bear to look at Tristan's paint-splattered pants anymore. Next, Caitlin set to work peeling off the t-shirt. It took a great deal of effort, with straining and popping of seams heard all around her as she maneuvered the garment around her shoulders and over her head. After finally extracting her head, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply with relief, tossing her hair and arching her now unbound torso. When she opened her eyes, she could hardly believe them.

The sight of her herself in the mirror brought Caitlin to breathlessness. She had honestly never seen a sight like herself before, and had a hard time imagining where she could. The proportions of her body, at her old height of 5’4” would have been eye-catching. Now standing—as Frederick had reported to her—at 7’1½” and wearing only a cutoff pair of shorts, she stared awestruck. She had to stand substantially far back in the room to see herself in the three floor-length mirrors, and she dwarfed everything around her. Her body, while undeniably huge, was at the same time alluring in its size. Everything, from her rich, black hair to her lengthy, lithe limbs, and magnificent breasts seemed to command attention. She had convinced herself she had grown into a freak, but the mirrors reflected a startlingly different assessment. At every angle, she was perfect.

“I get the feeling that you see what I saw all along.” Ivey’s voice broke Caitlin’s enchantment and she instinctively covered herself, though she had some difficulty covering all of herself.

“Ivey, Jeez!” she stammered. Caitlin wanted to be angry, but upon whirling around she saw Ivey simply gazing at her with the same large, bright eyes that always seemed to leave Caitlin searching for words. Caitlin smiled softly, but did not blush.

“Thanks. You know…for everything.”

“My pleasure, sweetie.”

The moment was soon broken by a banging from the inside of the closet. “I told you I wouldn’t peek!” came Frederick’s muffled protest. Caitlin slipped into the bra provided for her and unlocked the door. Frederick burst out of the doors seemingly unaffected by his brief entrapment, and carrying a stack of outfits.

“Oh honey, do you know how long I’ve waited to try these out on someone who doesn’t need a wig, a waist cincher, and a waxing?” He produced a shiny leather corset with buckles and a zipper up the back. “Oooh, this will be fantastic, and just your size. You’re lucky that goddess of a torso of yours isn’t as lengthy as those gams. Speaking of which, you could crush a regiment in those things.” Caitlin was not amused, but Frederick continued. “And my word, this bum of yours warrants a round of applause, if not a merely pat on the back.” He swatted Caitlin’s rear, making an audible pop. Caitlin’s eyes went wide.

Faster than he could respond, Frederick found himself gripped firmly at the collar and he his face inches from Caitlin’s menacing glare. “Listen to me you creep,” Caitlin seethed, “If you touch me like that again, or in any manner that I find inappropriate, I will make you sorely wish you hadn’t.” Frederick whimpered slightly as he felt his trembling feet lift off of the ground. “Are we clear?” Caitlin said through her teeth. Frederick only nodded, and Caitlin lowered him to the floor, giving him a final shove that sent him staggering into the dresser behind him. Visibly shaken, Frederick took a moment to clear his throat and straighten his collar before grinning naughtily at Caitlin.

“Honey, you can come back any time you like.” With that he returned to the costume closet.