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Day 12 - Clothing

"Made to size"

By Patrick D. Lambert

Commissioned by Rugito

The young iguana, attired in the obligatory brown uniform with tight short pants, danced his way to the two-story house on the other side of the street. His headphones blasted at full volume the most recent remix a friend did for the 12 subscribers he had on YouTube. It was good music, and he swore he'd be discovered by the algorithm very soon.

In his hands, he carried the last package for that neighborhood, something put into a big rectangular box. Clothing, according to the label, but too heavy to be a shirt or two. Well, it's not like he cared about it. It was a summer gig that didn't require a lot of effort from him.

The doorcam caught him shuffling over the damp grass, ignoring, like many others, the pathway made of large stones. He scanned the door, called at the door, left the package resting next to the wall, and walked away, leaving the package at the mercy of any thief instead of waiting a moment as instructed.

Luckily, the package in question had never been in any danger. A few seconds after the iguana left, the door opened and a whitish hand appeared to pull the package in. The door slam was hard enough that even the iguana heard it, but when he looked back and noticed the box was no longer there, he just shrugged and moved on.

Inside the house, the quick steps echoed through every hallway and room as the white dragon ran back to his bedroom. His friends went out for a party so he had the place for himself for the rest of the day, exactly the kind of privacy he loved. The sharp claws didn't wait and began to cut through the cardboard, leaving little bits behind that he would annoyingly have to gather later.

Even when he knew he was completely alone, his brain told him to check if they were really out. No answer on the other two bedrooms. Good. That put a smile on his face he refused to go down.

He entered his room and locked the door behind him. The half-opened package landed on the bed, and it stayed there while he pulled down the curtains to have absolute privacy

Rugito liked to have his things in order, and the bedroom was a reflection of it. His bed was always made. The books were in order in the bookcase. The few posters of videogames he loved that decorated the walls, along with framed pictures of him and his family, were all perfectly lined up. No dirty clothes or trash on the carpeted floor. It was all tidy and cozy.

But when it came to a specific thing, he lost his marbles. Because the calm and relaxed dragon, the kind of guy that doesn't seem to like risks at all, had a very soft spot for sports clothes.

More like a soft spot, it was his biggest kink.

His deep blue hoodie flew away, landing next to the door. The brownish t-shirt under it was still damp in sweat from his run back home. He couldn't believe his luck, arriving a minute before the package. He took it off, and, in his desperation, got it stuck in his horns. The dragon struggled with the clothing for some seconds before it got torn apart.

"Shit, gonna run out of these at this rate," he cursed, reminding his preference for open shirts.

The boots and pants came after. He sat on the bed and threw the boots at the other side of the bed. But right before he pulled down his pants, Rugito paid a bit more attention to the white label on the box. He saw the address, the company that sent it, and...

"XXL?!" He exclaimed.

Already under a panic attack, the cardboard box experienced the rage of a dragon that spent more than what he should have in sports clothes. The mess outside was nothing compared to the massacre left on his bed.

He didn't need to unfold them to know they were the wrong size. The blue and gold letterman jacket occupied most of the box, and it got even bigger after he pulled it out of the sealed plastic back. He still had some hopes that it was some kind of mistake, but when he stood in front of the full-body mirror with the jacket next to him, his hopes crashed in the most strepitous way possible.

"Fucking bastards..."

They were the wrong size. The jacket reached down his thighs and made more notorious the dragon's slender figure, lacking any muscles like the rest of his kind. Fuck, his head could fit easily inside the sleeve.

He had been waiting two weeks for that package. The site supposedly sent it Large. He chose Large! His grunt of frustration turned into a whine. The outfit looked amazing in the model, a beefy shark that, according to the description, was a football player and one of the best members of his fraternity. The jacket even had the logo embroidery on golden letters.

A moment of silence for the hopes and dreams of wearing what that shark wore. He wanted so badly to try it out and feel, if only in the privacy of his bedroom, as THAT member of the football team.

His passion for sports outfits wasn't just a sexual kink. The dragon had the brains, but not the muscles. Busy as he was on what he considered "more important things", Rugito never set paw on a gym or went for a morning job. But he loved the idea of being "strong".

The outfits filled that void in a strange way. He had a large collection of them hidden in his wardrobe. Soccer, football, rugby, basketball, and many more; whenever he put on any of them, the dragon had an opportunity to pretend he was that person. He acted like them. He talked like them. Heck, he even pretended to play just like them. And by doing so, Rugito escaped reality and became a different person in fantasy.

He got so excited when that new site he found promised "an outfit with personality", which meant a quick description of to whom the outfit belonged. And the shark named Riptide caught his attention immediately.

"Well, guess I could at least try it," he sighed once he got over his deception.

He took off his trousers and briefs, no longer possessed by the enthusiasm of five minutes ago.

Just as he expected, the rest of the clothes were XXL too: white football pants, black and white hi-top cleats, and a set of red jockstraps.

Only the jocks fit around his waist, but it made him look like he had a monstrous bulge under it. The rest of the outfit simply wasn't for him. The jacket devoured his torso and thighs, and he had to raise his shoulders to stop it from falling. And he could get his paws in and out of the cleats with little effort. It simply looked ridiculous.

And that infuriated and disappointed him equally. Because aside from the dumb aspect it gave him, the outfit was just... perfect.

After another heavy sigh, Rugito closed his eyes and pictured himself wearing the clothes of the right size. He imagined himself walking over the field after the game. His chest exposed through the open jacket. The lights made his scales glitter from the sweat on them. Both hands were in his pockets. He took a deep breath and caught the lingering scent left by the other players, those brave warriors who put everything into each play. What an alluring and delicious feeling.

Caught in a fantasy that managed to soothe his troubled mind, Rugito didn't see the glow coming from the Greek letters embroidered on the jacket.

His body held the pants, but his mind imagined the ball falling straight into his firm grip. His paws stayed inside the cleats, but he saw himself running across the field. Members of the enemy team behind him tried to stop him. Some went for a tackle, yet he avoided them with grace.

Fans cheered for him. The cheerleaders danced and jumped. The coach waved his hand and screamed to him to keep running. The crippling pain in his legs made him groan. Each breath descending down his lungs felt like molten iron. Already dizzy and exhausted, he fought as hard as he could, knowing the difference between losing and winning the game was on the ball he held in his hands.

The goal was right there. It was just him and the chalk line drawn over the grass. The entire enemy team was right behind him. Just a simple push would send him down and end it all. With no time left for another play, he had to give it all!

The jacket moved, reacting to an invisible force that got under it. And the Greek letters glowed more and more.

Each wag of his tail sent into the air the black and white fur that decorated the top and end of it. And, along with the fur, came out tiny white scales. The tip of his tail got wider and divided into two, acquiring a grayish color. More fur and scales fell down while the tail became thicker, transforming slowly to resemble a shark's tail.

He lifted his paws to pretend he was running until he brought with him the cleats, his paws finally big enough to fit inside them. His legs got bigger too, while the scales kept falling to reveal the rough, grayish shark skin under it. And when his waist grew enough to hold the pants, Rugito dropped them and pretended to carry a ball against his chest.

His transformation continued without him knowing. His body kept growing muscles where there once weren't. Abs, pecs, biceps; the body that would take years to obtain manifested in seconds. And it slowly began to fit more and more into the massive outfit, leaving the weak dragon behind and making room for the beefy shark he was dreaming of.

And Rugito didn't notice a single thing. He was trapped in his fantasy, sucked in by the dreams of fame and glory. He wasn't even thinking of him as a dragon running across the field but as the shark instead. Riptide. The MVP. Strong. Fast. Skilled. Just everything Rugito wanted to be.

The cheers encouraged him. The lights dazzled his watery eyes. He gnashed his fans to endure the pain of each step. Getting closer and closer, just one jump away from victory, and then...

The public went crazy. They didn't even wait for the final result, the victory was theirs. His team carried him in his arms and gave him the ball, his trophy for winning the game at the last second. And the glory, passion, and excitement, all swirled in his head and made him forget about everything else. The exhaustion, the pain, the stress, it all vanished, leaving only the joy of being... Riptide.

He held himself tightly, so proud and happy of his success. The jacket, finally fitting perfectly in his brawny body, carried the warmth of his team. Members of the same frat house, that jacket was the embodiment of their skill and companionship. It reminded him he belonged somewhere.

Little by little, the fantasy tainted his memories. The image of the white dragon changed to match with the shark he had become. His family, friends, and team members; all the faces he remembered switched to reflect how proud they were of him. Every place where he once was, every adventure he had, every instant he lived transformed; the fantasy spread like a virus and became a new reality in his mind as he embraced the body and life of the shark named Riptide.

The golden outlines on the jacket glowed too. The clothes shrunk slightly to fit completely and became almost like a second skin. Who once was a dragon had almost gone through his transformation, with only the head missing. And even that was about to disappear, with the grayish skin kept moving up.

Trapped in the excitement of being him, of becoming Riptide, he never realized what was going on. He went along with it, absorbing the memories carried by the clothes. He flexed his muscles and stomped on the carpeted floor, bringing what was left of the shark into the real world.

His head and maw adopted a more rectangular shape, getting bigger in the process. Huge fangs replaced the smaller teeth. A large fin came through the skin of the back of his head. The gills on both sides of his neck opened up, painted in red as some sort of war paint.

The floor got covered in fur, scales, fangs, and claws, evidence of the dragon he once was; evidence that didn't last for too long in this world, condemned to disappear along with everything that once represented Rugito. It all turned into dust once the transformation finished.

Riptide opened his eyes. A golden glow flashed for an instant, and then the black eyes appeared. He saw his reflection, too big to fit in that tiny mirror. A smile of approval grew on his massive jaws while he flexed to check his astonishing body. Huge muscles, strong and hard like steel. And an outfit made to size, perfect for a body like the one he had acquired.

He couldn't resist the urge to touch himself a little. The soft skin of his chest and belly contrasted beautifully with the roughness of the rest of his body. He followed the outline of his muscles, starting from his pecs and moving down his abs, until he reached the crotch, where a huge bulge stood out despite the baggy aspect of his pants. In his excitement, he couldn't resist the urge to give it a good squeeze: even his manhood fit with the new body.

Riptide chuckled. He had never felt so happy and excited before in his life.

"We'll have to make some changes here," he said, taking a look at the room. It didn't match his style. He felt tempted to start redecorating right away, using his claws to tear off the posters and throw all those nerdy books away.

But then his reflection caught him again, and his ego forced him to stay and admire himself. He posed before the mirror, marveling at how fucking hot he was. In the middle of what looked like a mating dance, he took off the rest of his clothes, leaving only the red jockstrap, slightly musky already and tightly holding his cock in place. Even the underwear had been made for him.

It looked so hot. He kept rubbing the huge bulge, feeling the throbbing shafts inside begging for release. A huge stain of pre came through the thick cloth. And Riptide was getting ready to push the jockstraps down when something caught his attention.

"Huh?" He noticed a small piece of paper on the floor. "It must have fallen from the jacket when I took it off."

It was a label with a black symbol of a small crocodile head over a blue background: Noku's Lovers. Where the clothes make the man.

"Heh, guess I know where I'm getting my clothes from now on.