A Poor Fit The New World of SwapTech chapter 5 by deleted_user

In the shed mirror, Greg saw a short, stacked woman swallowed in the fabric of his old clothes. His height barely hit five feet now, his face round and soft, cheeks flushed pink and lips pouty with confusion. His eyes were big and bright—hazel, now—and looked even larger thanks to the shock written across his small, girlish features. His chest was enormous—two heavy, round breasts practically spilling out of his flannel, which hung loose but strained at the bust. His now small hands clutched at the hem of the shirt, pulling it down instinctively.

He had a wide, curvy lower half—thick thighs, full hips, and a round rear barely contained by jeans that now looked like clown pants on him. The waist gaped open, sagging down his hips. His legs looked short but strong, his calves feminine and shapely. His hair was messy and light brown, falling in a tousled, just-woke-up look that added a kind of accidental bedroom charm.

Every movement sent a jiggle through his form—his new breasts swayed when he breathed, and his rear shifted dramatically with each step.

Greg stumbled forward. His balance was all wrong. His chest bounced. His ass jiggled.

He glared at his reflection. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

None of his clothes had changed with him. The jeans sagged at the knees, the shirt collar flopped around his delicate neck, and he looked like a child playing dress-up in her daddy’s Sunday best. Except daddy’s clothes were stretched across a curvaceous body built for something... very different.

Greg reached up to button the flannel higher, only to realize there weren’t enough buttons left intact to close the top. He crossed his arms over his chest, grimacing as the movement just emphasized the bounce and press of his new figure.