You were still posing to yourself, enjoying every moment of being your gym teacher. You would never have thought that being the heavyset mountain of a man would feel so good. You relished the thick blanket of body hair that seemed to coat every part of exposed skin with it's own layer. You revelled in your massive stature that was breathtaking in both height and width. You savoured the feel of your awesomely bulky, power lifter body. You even enjoyed the massive, round gut you'd obtained, that looked rather like you swallowed a beach ball.
But despite the satisfaction you felt, it was weird to see the man you admired exposing so much of his hairy skin, even if it was technically your own body now. You reach for the XXXL polo shirt you understandably didn't wear while undergoing your transformation. You pull it over the top of your bald head and stick your arms through the sleeves. Then you pull it down over your wide chest and violently tug it over your solid gut before finally tucking the excess fabric into your shorts to ensure it stayed put and didn't accidentally expose your flesh. You were surprised at how snug it felt, especially around the sleeves where you reckoned one wrong move could rip them to pieces. You also laughed at how it failed to make your ball gut look any smaller as it protruded out and over your waistband, your manly body hair very visible through the white fabric.
By now, you've noticed that your belly is so large, you have to lean forward to have any chance of seeing your feet. Giving it an affectionate rub, you begin to wonder whether you should put your own shoes back on and return to your teenage self. There was still half an hour until your first lesson started but you knew it would take at least half that time to transform with the socks, and change back into your clothes. Plus the longer you stayed in your coach's office looking like him, the closer you ran into the risk of the real Coach turning up and seeing his double was. With a prolonged sigh, you regretfully realise you have to change back. But eyeing the chair you previously sat in, you knew it was likely to break if you sat in it. Instead, you walked around the desk and grabbed Castro's own chair. Sitting down, you note that your stomach looks even bigger laying atop your thick thighs. You grunt as you bend forwards, trying and struggling to reach your feet.
After a couple of failed attempts, you suddenly hear the office door handle click. You impulsively sit up in your chair and glance towards it in fear. It was just your luck that he had to appear right now! The door swung open, but instead of seeing Mr. Castro on the other side, it was instead a short, somewhat portly woman in her mid fifties. Her greying hair was tied in a high bun and a round pair of spectacles sat on her pointed nose. It was your principal, Mrs Lestrange. Her eyes lit up in surprise upon seeing you sat at your coach's desk.
"Marcus, what the heck are you doing here?" she asked in an accusing tone.
You were thrown by the odd question. "Uhm, doing my job...?" You answer unconvincingly.
She shook her head and said "No, I mean what are you doing here? You left a message calling in sick over an hour ago. It sounded serious too"
So that's why he hadn't turned up! You try to play down your apparent illness, your faint Italian lilt coming through in your gravelly voice "No no, it wasn't that bad, I'm fine".
"You were vomiting while leaving the message"
"Oh, that... Uhm... Well I think it was just something I ate last night. I would have stayed but I remembered the fundraiser and I can't miss that".
She eyes you suspiciously, obviously unconvinced at your story. "You said you'd hate to miss it but you could barely move, your stomach was in such pain"
"And... And then I decided I wouldn't miss it for the world! You know me, I love charity. Love helping others, heh... I took some painkillers and I feel so much better now, I promise!"
After a moment of awkward silence, made worse by your nervous smiling, she eventually sighed and said "OK Marcus, if you say you're fine then OK. Just remember to call the next time this happens. I would have arranged for a substitute by now if I hadn't come to pick up the student you mentioned had volunteered to help. Where is the kid anyway?"
You gulp and glance at your backpack, silently praising that you remembered to put your clothes inside before changing. "Oh he's, uh, out helping with stuff? Getting a few things from the locker room".
"Right... So I'll leave you to it then". She leaves the room and closes the door behind her. You wait a few moments before breathing out heavily in relief. That was a close call! You grab a tissue and use it to wipe away the sweat dripping down your face and coating your bald head. There's no way you could change back now, which was what you wanted right? To stay as Marcus for a while longer? But now you were having second thoughts. While you loved being in his body, you weren't as enthusiastic about having his responsibilities as well. Especially now you had to prepare the fundraiser alone. And after making such a big fuss about it, there's no way Mrs. Lestrange would let you leave even if you were sick. You lean back in your seat and throw your hands to your face, suppressing a groan into them.
You pull yourself out of your seat, putting your hands on your lower back to give it a satisfying stretch, then grabbed your backpack. As you opened the supply closet to hide the bag while also sorting out what you needed, you tried to focus on the positives. You could stay as Marcus for the entire day without worrying about bumping into the real one. And you had access to some of his memories so you wouldn't rouse suspicion from anyone else. For example, you knew you didn't have to teach your first lesson until third period. That gave you more than enough time to set up the path and obstacles for the fun run. And maybe you could find another kid who wanted to help in your place. It shouldn't be too hard to find a willing volunteer since they'd get out of going to class for a couple of hours. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all.