The wind picked up and blew into her face as Lydia made the best speed she could homeward. It was almost as if the wind was trying to slow her so she would be caught in the rain. Or perhaps it was her own desire to stay dry and figure everything out that made fear the coming of the storm.
Lydia turned a corner and almost slipped out of her sandal. If she worn her runners she would be home by now, she thought. Drops started to fall about her. Big ones, that signaled a heavy down-fall. The trees were blowing in the wind and Lydia could hear nothing but the rustling of the leaves.
Her heart pounded in her chest as her lungs gasped for air. Her breasts heaved and she knew that somehow they had indeed gotten larger. Caused by the same magic that fused her swimsuit to her body, she thought but dared not admit to herself. There must be a normal reason for all this. Allergies, pranks, chemical reactions; a whole host of reasons for why she was running home like a scared rabbit. If only she had the time to think things through.
A drop landed on her nose and she wiped it off with her sleeve. The sweater was warm and she hoped would keep the rain off her for the last few minutes. Her home was just down the next street she would be there is a moment. Just keep running. More drops fell around her causing the cement to turn from white to brown in a spotted mess. It was like a dalmatian's coat, she thought as a child when she played in the rain. She would use a paint brush and colour the sidewalk with water until the thunder clapped and her mother would call her inside where it was safe. Then she would run to the house her hair tangled with water, her clothes damp and dripping and her mother would wrap her in a towel while they watch the lighting flash. Lydia's hair was becoming heavy with rain. She ran toward her house as her clothes starting to drip.
Bursting through the door she nearly slipped on the tile floor with wet sandals that offered no grip. Kicking them off she hustled up the stairs tossed her bag toward her room and hopped into the bathroom to grab a towel. Lydia made her way back to her room feeling damp trough and trough. Her sweater was soaked and her denim skirt was pasted to her legs. Tossing off the top she started drying her face and hair first.
She could feel the swimsuit creep. A short turtleneck rose slowly becoming a fuller one. She dried the spandex skin stopping it half-way up her throat. She wanted to scratch and pull at it to make it come off but other things needed her attention.
The arm holes that had once been wide straps crossing on her back had closed up around her arms and were starting to creep over her shoulders. Lydia dried her arms and back and pits stopping the spandex at a tight t-shirt cut sleeve just past her wide shoulder muscles. It would have been a sexy tight top, she thought if it weren't glued to my skin.
Her breasts were next to receive a toweling. As she dabbed at them she felt them become more full and round. The spandex that had for the moment been stretched between the two globes and pulled in and was now fully wrapped around every part of her breasts. Breasts that were now C cup if anything. Lydia was having a hard time breathing after her run and now with the new weight. But she needed to keep going.
Lydia undid the belt that held up her skirt and made to walk to the dresser to get some dry panties. If the suit had pulled tight over her breasts there was a good chance she would be sporting a major camel-toe. Being topless was one thing but being bottom less was something she was not comfortable with. As she made to take a step she fumbled. The skirt seemed to have shrunk and was pinning her legs together down to her knees. Walking was difficult and she had to make short hopping strides to get across the room. Her thighs rubbing from the wet skirt, Lydia knew they would be red and sore if she did not get out of this denim soon.
She stopped hopping before she fell and pushed the skirt off her hips. It fell in a messy set heap by her ankles and she stepped out. Or tried to. Her knees were pinned and she could not lift one leg apart from the other. She tumbled and fell to the floor free of the skirt. Rolling over awkwardly she found the cause of her clumsiness. Her legs had been fused from her crotch to her knees. Where once there were to two limbs now only one limb of muscle coated in blue spandex remained. Just above her knees there was the edge of her swimsuit circling each leg as if that was where her body normally separated into two shins.
In shock she tried to take into account her whole body. She was normal except for the huge breasts on her chest, the fused thighs that looked like they were encased in a very tight skirt and her torso coated from her neck to her knees in royal-blue, shiny spandex. There were accenting yellow stripes that ran and curved down her body giving the impression of a smaller waist than she had. And right there on her hip where it normally would have been above the leg hole was a small icon that read Adidas.
This was too much. It was not a prank. There was getting over it. Lydia screamed and wept. She kicked her feet twisted about trying to pull her legs apart to no avail. Something weird was going on and she did not know how to stop it.