The little boy isn't so little any more. At this point, His and arms sit atop his mattress sized body like fat little Hersey Kisses. The hands and feet look like round dollops on top. His flailing fingers slow as they gain volume. The pudgy toes are absorbed into the basketball sized feet, leaving nothing but toenails in their wake. All of his clothes have burst off his burgeoning body except for a horribly stretch pair of tight, white briefs. They save him no modesty; everything is visible through the pale, milky color, and what can been seen through can be outlined in shape. His growing butt cheeks are parted at the bottom to reveal a fat tube of flesh. He's uncircumcised.
His back is rounded, his front nothing more than a globular belly. His neck, shoulders, and head are still submerged inside Chris, but their sizes are reaching equilibrium. Chris's head remains distended beyond humanly possible as his mouth still holds the boy. His lips aren't heavy anymore, so they don't crush his prisoner into a flat effigy, but rather, the boy's expanding body deforms Chris's head. His mouth is stretch wide enough to fit in the hood of a VW, his nose still flat and taut, but nostrils now oblonged towards the opening of his mouth, his eyes bulging from his head and bloodshot, his ears starting to slowly reform, his fat, sausage like arms and ham hocks of hands smashing again and again into the soft, resilient side of the boy, his belly hanging low to the floor along with his sagging abdomen and expanded groin. His legs have enough shape to sort of lift him up, but that doesn't stop the rest of his body from touching the floor, including his breasts or butt. His feet are nothing but wide, circular pancakes due to all of the weight exerted on them.
Tony arrives, carrying a broken shower head pipe under his arm. As soon as he walks into the room, the boy's underwear finally explode. His body is almost completely round, just as Chris had been. From inside his confines, tears stream from his eyes.
Tony rushes forward after a start, quickly assessing the situation. He can't see Chris from behind the new water balloon, so he rushes forward, expecting to find a much smaller, or, hopefully normal sized Chris. Instead, he finds a large pile of wrinkly flesh colored material. It looks like rubber. Tony follows it with his, from the folded up mess on the floor, to the stretched out part. It's stuck over the top third of the boy, and takes his globe shape. Tony realizes with a start that his empty bag of skin is Chris. He then meets two terrified eyes. Without another thought, Tony begins to peel his deflated, loose and formless friend off the boy. Before he can even get a good grip over the thin lips, he hears to great creaking sound.
Both boys have little warning as the mass of flesh begins to vibrate, and then explodes. The force of water sends Tony into the wall, Chris coating him like a protective blanket. It takes a bit for the flood to subside, but once it does, Tony removes Chris and looks around.
"Damn. He blew." Tony sighs. He wasn't expecting that to happen. Remnants of creamy, pale rubber stick to the walls. One large piece has a nipple on it. Tony shudders and looks down to the blanket of skin he holds delicately in his hands. One scared eyeball stares back and blinks. Tony lifts Chris up, smoothing out as many folds and wrinkles as he can. The boy is nothing but an empty, vaguely circular sack. Tony rubs Chris between his fingers. He is hollow, rubbery, think. But most of all, he is flat. After a moment of thought, he tests a forming hypothesis by gently pulling his arms apart. Chris begins to stretch. His slackened face pulls wide like putty or bubble gum.
"Stahp!" Tony nearly drops his friend at the sound. He ceases the stretching and looks dumbfoundly at the flap of skin he once knew as a human being.
"Dude, you can speak now?! Are you okay!?" Tony asks without a breath in between his words. He looks Chris over, exploring every fold and sag as he turns the shapeless form around in his hands. Chris's face hangs downwards and gravity pulls overtaxed lips back down to the floor, like the sags skin that hang from lyposuction patients. He can only drool and flail his thick, rubbery lips uselessly as they hang down below. He blows a few inadvertent raspberries before Tony finally pulls his face back skyward. He holds it out from him at the cheeks, stretching it taut as to make it easier for Chris to speak. His fully reformed ears hand downwards by what used to be armpits. "Stupid question; I know."