Selph
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Commission 1st Draft: Cosplay Blowout
🕑 Added 2019-12-21 16:52:23 +0000 UTCFirst draft of a commission for Zac. The story follows him as he tries to find confidence in portraying one of his favourite big bodied characters at a cosplay convention, but his size-obsessed friend might have other plans for him to "blow the competition away."
Zac fidgeted with the same shoulder strap he had been adjusting for the past half of an hour. He was convinced it didn’t fit properly, despite his friend’s assurance that it did. He shifted his stance and tried to get into character. Feet apart, arms flexed menacingly at his sides, hook in one hand and junk launcher in the other. He looked into the mirror and saw himself reflected, not entirely as Zac, but as the indestructible Roadhog. The illusion was not entirely complete without the mask.
His soft, plump face and dark tired eyes reminded him that he was only Zac in a costume.
He thought about going to the bathroom to remove the remainder of the outfit and driving home. The notion of getting up on a stage in front of a packed auditorium and being leered at by thousands of scrutinizing nerds made his stomach churn. True enough, he liked his belly. He was proud of it. But posting a big bellied selfie to a private group chat online was different, there he at least knew his audience. He tugged at the shoulder strap to his shoulder armour again, hoping his friend would return soon with his mask.
The door to the dressing room crept open. A man entered, fatter than Zac and taller too. He wasn’t in costume, but he held a pig-themed gas mask in his right hand. He smiled in Zac’s direction. “Sorry,” he apologized and handed the mask to Zac. “It took me a while to find some glue to fix the lens, you weren’t waiting for too long, were you?”
Seth was as kindly and soft spoken as always. Even in spite of his deep, bass tone of voice. He was the one who encouraged Zac to cosplay and had been instrumental in making it possible. During the lead-up to the convention he prepared meal plans to help Zac gain the weight he needed to portray Roadhog. He helped source, and construct the costume from plastics, resins and old tyres. He even paid for the replica gas mask and customized it with the ability to detach one of the filter cartridges.
Being able to authentically remove a face cannister to insert one of Roadhog’s signature Hogdrogen cannisters elevated Zac’s costume above the rest. At least, that’s what Seth claimed.
“Just last-minute nerves I think,” Zac replied. He ran a hand over his face to remove a layer of anxious sweat which had begun to coalesce. With the mask firmly back in his hands, he felt a surge of confidence. Cosplaying Roadhog was one of his lesser dreams, it excited him to no end, but he still had reservations about people knowing it was him under the mask. He just wanted to be Roadhog once he was on stage, not Roadhog as portrayed by Zac.
“You’re going to be amazing. I stayed up two nights in a row getting all the last-minute details finished, so you’d better win or at least give them a show.” Seth gave Zac’s wide tattooed stomach an affectionate rub, for good luck, or maybe he just wanted an opportunity to grope him. Seth was an insatiable belly-fiend, the same as Zac was. Only his appetite for size dwarfed his own. If Seth had his way, Zac would have had another year to gain weight for the convention and would be much fatter than the actual character he wanted to portray.
Zac didn’t interrupt his friend as the belly-rub continued. His boxers, layered beneath the thick blue-grey camo pants of his costume, became firmer with a nascent bulge. He let out a quiet, awkward giggle of arousal before looking up at his tall friend and gave an equally awkward smile. “Maybe you should stop, I don’t want to get disqualified for being like… not family friendly or something on stage.” Zac quipped.
“Please. You could have a full-blown chub and they wouldn’t be able to see it past this.” Seth tapped his knuckle against the ROADR0GE license plate attached to Zac’s crotch. It dug in very slightly to Zac’s belly, giving the flaming pig and engine tattoo a slightly squashed look as it dimpled his stomach’s underside.
“You’re awful.” Zac said.
“I know,” Seth smiled with relish at his own lewdness.
“Can you just give me a once-over and make sure I’m ready?”
“Want me to get you a horse tranquilizer and a joint while I’m at it to calm you down?”
Zac blushed, “I’m not that nervous.”
“That sweat and pink face of yours says otherwise.” Seth got a measuring tape and magnifying glass out of his bag. Then continued speaking, “Oh, sorry, my mistake. It should be a pig tranquilizer shouldn’t it?” Seth winked and began giving Zac a thorough inspection. His hands occasionally wandered; Zac allowed it.
By all accounts the costume was perfect. Zac thought so. Every detail of Roadhog’s infamous aesthetic had been recreated with painstaking detail. Right down to the rhino horn plating on the left boot, and the skull leg-strap around the right foreleg. Zac admitted that the spiked gauntlet and yellow plate armour fixed to his right side were heavier than he expected, they made it hard to maintain his balance if he walked too quickly. But he appreciated the sheer heft of the costume. It made it feel more grounded, more real. Ignoring the painted body hair on his chest and arms, if he saw someone else wearing this costume, he would have sworn Roadhog had come to life.
The only detail which gave away the charade, besides not having Roadhog’s distinctly impossible and inhuman body proportions, was that he hadn’t bleached his hair white to match the character.
While Zac was daydreaming and admiring the handiwork, Seth had finished his inspection.
“You’re all set,” Seth declared with a slap to Zac’s belly. “Good thing you’re not full of real Hogdrogen, all that sweating you’re doing might overheat it and make it expand.”
Zac whined; his boxers were pulled taut again beneath his crotch plate.
<WOULD CONTESTANTS FOR THE COSTUME CONTEST PLEASE MAKE THEIR WAY TO THE MAIN STAGE>
Seth fastened Zac’s mask, and he felt much safer, more confident, through the eyes of Roadhog.
“Blow them away,” Seth winked.
Zac felt odd after seeing that wink, but he couldn’t figure out why.
The backstage line was a veritable line of who’s who from modern media. Zac didn’t pay anime, tv and movies the same attention as he did video games, but he recognised a handful of characters. They were, expectantly, mostly trim and pretty. There was an occasional fuller bodied character, but none of them held the same girth as he did. It wasn’t often he was the biggest person in a room, and the gainer side of him found it equal parts gratifying and arousing to be the fattest one in attendance.
He arrived early enough that he was scheduled to be in the second heat of cosplayers. A Reinhardt cosplayer, another Overwatch favourite, had rigged a modestly impressive setup out of cardboard and resin but didn’t look as though he could walk very ably with the construction of the armour impeding his movement. There were two characters from popular anime, a My Hero Academia Deku with the most recent manga official costume, and an impressively muscular Inosuke from Demon Slayer with his signature pig head. These were his competition. He wondered how he would stand out amidst the others, but beyond doing his routine of voice lines from the game and inhaling the faux Hogdrogen cannister he really didn’t know what else he could do.
The time finally came, and he passed the curtain to an auditorium of attentive convention goers. The host of the contest was an overly enthusiastic man dressed as Hisoka from Hunter x Hunter, who gave everyone a turn to show off their costume starting with the ones who came on stage last. Zac was the first to take his position, meaning he would be the final contender of the heat to parade himself and be marked by the judges’ panel.
Zac waited his turn while the Deku went first, then the Nezuko, and finally the Reindhart.
Zac stepped up. He immediately did his best to get into character… deep breath, deep breath. “I’m a one-man apocalypse,” he roared. The audience erupted with applause, and Zac found the fire to keep going. He flexed his fat arms and yelled, “LIKE TAKIN’ CANDY FROM A BABY!”
The audience grew to a feverish din. Zac felt amazing and chose this time for his parlour trick. He opened the detachable valve on his gas mask and inserted the round dark yellow Hogdrogen cannister. It let out a small haze of mustard coloured gas from the tip, along with a loud wooshing sound, compliments of Seth’s handiwork. Then he pretended to inhale, and tasted a sweet, earthy gas.
… tasted?
Zac felt a wave of euphoria come over him. He felt light, and airy. Something possessed him to take another lungful of the gas, which was supposed to only be a decorative effect, and again the slightly musky, but sugary taste coated the inside of his mouth. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. The audience’s undulating cheer rose to its pitch and then stopped. Silence. The stunned quiet that usually followed something unexpected, something bad.
Zac felt a growing tautness in his belly. He breathed in the gas through his mask and arched his back. His already wide, fat belly became bigger and rounder. It continued to accumulate pressure and stretched with the staggered burgeoning of a balloon, being filled inconsistently by a person’s breath. Zac felt warm, he began to sweat more profusely than he had in the dressing room, but he wasn’t anxious. This was a proper heat sweat. His entire body warmed up, it felt like he was surrounded by radiators on all sides and his stomach just continued to grow. It bulged obscenely, the curve of his stomach now joining with his pectorals as though his entire torso were just one great hollow chamber.
“Um, Contestant? Roadhog? We appreciate the special effects, but you can stop now.” The concerned Hisoka backed away, as Zac didn’t stop growing. Each second that passed the pregnant silence of the audience grew longer, some holding their breath, some backing away slowly for fear of what might happen if this grotesque display kept going.
Zac felt good, so good, he felt like he needed to laugh. He slapped the sides of his globular belly, and felt his palms rebound from the bouncy, rubber like orb that used to be his gut. “Bwahahaha,” Roadhog’s laugh bellowed out. Not Zac’s. Who was Zac anyway?
Roadhog’s hair began returning to its natural white. He snorted, and shook, and jostled his pumped-up belly with a mirthful chortle. He snorted and yelled out. “Shiiiiiiny.” Another line from the game, and apt. His entire body beneath the straining straps, hard leather, and tyre glistened as the hot sweaty skin continued to stretch with an elasticity normally reserved for hot air balloons. Roadhog’s belly had gone from the size of a weather balloon, to a bouncy castle, or a small parade float as his already powerful trunk-like arms were rising to his sides, unable to remain hanging because of how grand and imposing his swelling body had become.
The announcer tried to give Roadhog’s belly a push, but it was no good.
Roadhog responded by swinging the man clear off the stage with his gut. He fell forward from the momentum, but it was worth it to get rid of the pesky gnat. He laid on his gas gorged belly and felt the inexplicable urge to scream. “Ultimate Ready.”
Hot steam whistled out of Roadhog’s ears. In that split second, his growing belly and torso filled up with such ferocity that it began consuming his limbs and sunk his head into a divot of wet, pink, creaking flesh as the cheeks beneath the mask blushed with heat and an overwhelming sense of pleasure. “Ready to go…” he wheezed, surging one last time.
“WHOLE HOG!”
In a rush of hot, warm, moist air, Roadhog burst like he was no more than a balloon. Scraps of tan coloured rubber, and the broken pieces of a costume were all that remained as the explosion sent everyone into an utter panic.
When the auditorium cleared, the lights flickering, destroyed by the explosion. Seth stood over a naked, and post-orgasmic Zac laying in the spot “Roadhog” had detonated, who barely had the waking cohesion to recognise his friend.
“Told you that you’d blow them away,” Seth smirked.
