Chapter 2 - Testing


A Lesson in Humility: Testing


The scene played out in Satsuki’s head. Her defenses had been breached. The enemy was storming the gates with virtual impunity. It was something Satsuki knew better than to expect would never come - but never would she have imagined that it would come so quickly. Ryuko was a wrench in the works; a stain on an otherwise pristine track record - a project that was imperative, not only to see her aspirations realized, but to prevent a terrible fate from sweeping across the world like a funerary raiment… And this mote of entropy was already powerful enough to blast her way to her very doorstep. Yet, rather than even have a ghost of a chance to prove herself…


Ryuko laughed at her. The great and powerful student council president; mocked and derided; whatever threat she may have posed utterly discounted. Being underestimated was something Satsuki wasn’t used to; it was a deeper wound than any fight they could’ve had would have provided. Further clouding things was the murky nature of how much she was being underestimated… And how much was a realistic gauge of her ability? The past week has been trying for Satsuki, to say the least - and as she sat upon her bed; her plush, bare rear softly sinking into the plush mattress below and her pudgy, stubby-toed feet hanging off the edge, she tries to collect herself.


It all started with that uniform. It was a damned thing; a poison slipped into her veins in a way only Ragyo knew how. An innocuous school uniform with life fibers weaved in deep - that managed to warp her body, squeezing and compressing her figure - one that, in her own egotistical way, Ragyo might very well have been proud of ‘giving’ her - into a bloated and diminutive parody of itself. Gone was any semblance of athleticism; of finely-tuned balance. She retained vague shadows of muscle memory - but those worked only to her disadvantage. Acting out of reflex and instinct in a five-going-on-six foot tall body was one thing; doing so at the height of a child was another. Confounding her further was her twisted sense of gravity, her weight spread generously across her midsection and lower half. 


Satsuki was staggered; of that she had no doubt - but she hadn’t fallen yet. She hadn’t even taken a knee. Whatever body she was placed in; forced into - she still had her mind; her confidence and drive. She could saddle the burden of ruling the school, acclimating to - or better yet, curing - this form of hers, and she could deal with the threat Ryuko posed - however more difficult that made the former two challenges. Satsuki Kiryuin wasn’t about to give up.


She leaned onto her side and slid her bedsheets over her. She felt a burden of mental fatigue compounded with that of the physical; unlike she’d ever experienced before. She was eager, more than anything else, to get this day over with - so that tomorrow she can continue her work toward fixing this. 


Slumber fell upon her almost as hard as her head fell upon her pillow; harshly and suddenly - whether by fatigue or as though it was enforced. Her breasts rose and fell as her breathing became rhythmic, and her smaller limbs curled inward, bunching up the covers over herself; still instinctually unused to the roominess of her bed. The night marched on, and as she slept, Satsuki would toss and turn. The waking world was always a hair’s breadth away - and she spent the night on the all-but-restful precipice. All the while, something stirred within her - something warm and; were she awake to notice, dreadfully familiar.







“Mmh-” Satsuki murmurs, feeling tightness all around her. The dreary and half-conscious president tried to swing her arms out; but found them bound. Her legs, contrarily, were free - too free; free enough to kick and squirm out of instinct. She opened her eyes; but she only saw a sea of black with the faintest bit of light shining through; deliriously similar to the back of her eyelids. “Mmh!” Her intensive combat training took hold of her, and she rotated her body around, squirming against the surface of her mattress. Was it an attack from Ragyo? Some abomination of life fibers striking when she was weakened? She bounced against the surface of her bed until she reached the edge,


and, from a height now almost dizzying to the petite girl, she falls, landing hard against her side. She’s still on the floor for a moment - her heart pounding and her breasts heaving against their restrictive coverings. Huffing and puffing, she sits up. She squirms again - this time gently… And her assailant finally relents. When her face is uncovered, she finds herself staring down at her blanket, still covering her lower half. 


Somewhere in the middle of the night, she’d gotten knotted up. The sheets felt sticky against her body - which, as she looked down across her nude form, she found to be… Rather sweaty. Satsuki - the girl who was picking a fight with one of the strongest women in the world… Only narrowly won a victory against an inanimate piece of cloth. Even this victory felt draining - as, when she stands up, she feels decidedly fatigued. She’d learned in the past week that her stamina wasn’t what it used to be - and moreover, she could tell that she didn’t sleep well last night.


She rubs her eyes; clearing pent-up rheum from them. Her head was in a haze - half -asleep, half wanting to go back to sleep. Assuredly not the best headspace for somebody aspiring to have a long day of hard work. She blinks her heavy eyelids and lifts up part of her blanket - and then, she notices something.


Her hair. Not the straight, orderly mane of hair upon her head, to which she was accustomed - but beneath her arm, she found… More hair than she expected. It was simply part of her typical ritual of hygiene to take care of pursuits of… At the end of the day, vanity - such as shaving; her legs, her arms, her groin. What she saw now blatantly disregarded the work she put in on a daily basis. Under her arm was a wiry mass of black hairs - and, just to confirm, Satsuki raised her other arm to find much the same. Having her arms raised permitted a… Stale smell to rise to her nose, which forced her arms down. 


She throws the covers off of her lower half - and a look of concern crosses her typically-stoic face. It had become harder in recent days for the proud class president to hide the overflowing well of emotions that had come to course through her; and appropriately it had become much easier for her to wear her heart on her proverbial sleeve. As before; dishevelled hair began starting in the dimpled recess of her navel, trekking downward and thickening as it went over her crotch. It lightened again to just a dusting as it approached her thighs; but it just added another obscurance over her sex, compounded with the doughy shelf of a belly she now possessed.


“How…?” she balks, standing up shakily on her thunder-thighed legs. She wasn’t wearing the uniform - that accursed thing had already been given to the sewing club for deconstructive analysis. They’d taken it apart and isolated its life fiber. It had no power over her - it… Wasn’t supposed to have any power over her. So, why did it? Was it something she was unaware of? Now, more than ever, Satsuki had been entertaining such possibilities - lacking foresight or forethought or just simple knowledge or ability. With her body stunted and mind taxed with distraction, things were rife to slip through the cracks… Or simply be beyond her reach. Of course, she’d defend to the death that she’d never stop reaching.


She bunches up the covers and lobs them over mattress, landing on the bed. She’d have her butler fix them later. She walks around her bed until she reaches a nearby door, pushing it open with force. Already she was upset - and, she hoped, her morning routine would help her alleviate some of the already-compounding stress. She entered her bathroom, looking upward to the mirror - but only the top of her head was reflected. She could see a number of stray hairs cocking out at odd angles - due, she suspected, in no small part to her fitful slumber and… Even more fitful awakening. 


Satsuki reached into her tub and began to draw a bath - she figured, taking the time to soak in the warm water would alleviate the fatigue she was feeling. As the water welled up… She couldn’t help but reflect on the… Subtler ways this change had come to invade her life. It was obvious that it affected her in grander senses - but she was reminded, nearly every moment of every day she lives this way, on even the simplest of levels. She couldn’t fill the bathtub too much - or she’d practically be swimming in it. What’s more, she took up more of the tub now than she ever had before. As she submerses herself within it, she can feel the broad, doughy flanks of her hips and thighs nudging against the furthest reaches of the basin. The warmth of the water suffuses her almost immediately - and, as she closes her eyes… Her thoughts venture to the bathhouse in Ragyo’s manor. Her eyes snap open before she recollects her mother-daughter bonding time too vividly.


The sheer exertion of sleeping had already caused her to work up a bit of a sweat - and so Satsuki’s softer, stubbier hands run far and wide across her body. Cleaning herself was such a simple affair on any other day - but now, she had to go deep and work around the curves and rolls of pudge placed onto her form. Then, she reached her crotch - and she considered what to do about the excess hair on her body. Her first instinct was to shave it like any other; but…


Even muffled by the water in the tub, Satsuki could hear her stomach growl. Her hands worked faster - and even as much as she was enjoying the warm bath, she now found herself driven by a baser urge than vanity. She washed her hair - even that which was… More recently grown, and dried it as best - not to mention as quickly - as she could once she exited the tub. The bath did wonders for her physical fatigue - the grogginess, however, would take just a little longer to fix.


Steam escaped the bathroom door as Satsuki exited - from there, moving as fast as her diminutive feet would carry her to her vanity. Beneath it lay… Perhaps one of the few fruits of her labors, however meager: a stepping stool.


Nonon had only gotten so far with convincing the sewing club that she was ordering plus-sized doll clothes - and her cover was blown when a particularly-enthusiastic member asked to see how their work was performing. Since then, Satsuki had widened her circle of trust; her butler and Nonon had known about her secret since this whole problem began - but now the entirety of the elite four and the sewing club were aware. They took it… Much better than she expected. The elites; her closest friends were supportive… In their own ways. Gamagori got her a stepping stool to help navigate around her room. Using one, she thought was an indignity… But, as she stepped up upon it today, she realized how easily she accepted its necessity.


The sewing club, furthermore, viewed her as more of a guinea pig. Life fibers had never been observed to do what they’d done to Satsuki - and, giving them the chance to work with the fibers made them… Nothing if not passionate to experiment. Satsuki had always made a mental footnote to curb their passion before they did anything too extreme - or worse, fold to Ragyo’s authority to pursue their passion… But now, she was working more to channel it into a constructive pursuit. Drive and initiative were things she needed in her underlings - the narrower their pursuits were, the less likely they were to focus on the reality of the situation.


Satsuki moved up the stepstool and onto a chair opposite her vanity. The face she found staring back at her was nothing like the face of the woman she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be confident; confident in her appearance and position - well-kept and solid. As she was now… She looked tired. Even after washing and drying her hair- it still wasn’t falling into line just as it should. It looked like she had split ends; stray hairs broke out of the formation of the otherwise immaculate, straight mane she cared for. If she couldn’t keep her own hair in line, she wondered - what hope did she have of ordering her students?


No, no - she couldn’t focus on that. Magnifying her tired look were a pair of faint bags under her eyes; a product doubtlessly due to her near-sleepless night. She runs her fingers over them, as though doing so would help them go away - but, they didn’t. She shuts her eyes and grabs her brush, beginning to run it through her hair and-


“Ow.” she gripes; snagging the brush in a knot. She can feel the brush continuously catch itself on out-of-place hairs; but despite her insistence, she couldn’t just clear them away. She kept raising the brush higher - repositioning it and beginning her slow sweep again and again… Only to reach an impassable blockade. Every time it did so, she felt it - a small flare-up of pain in her scalp, and a twitch of her brow. Even that looked bushier than normal - her already-broad eyebrows having already overgrown and overtaken their generous allotment of space on her face.


As she looked at herself in the mirror, struggling with a task any one of her lowliest students would have no issue with, she realized that this was exactly the reason people were looking at her in a different light.


She was too cute to take seriously.
She was too weak to stand on her own.
She’s more interesting to observe than obey.
She’s harmless.


Each one a dagger in her heart driven deeper. Eventually, Satsuki lays her brush down. It did its job… In part. There were patches of her hair that looked nice - others just as wild; or made wilder than before by her errant brushing. Even among those that she’d attended to well, she could see stray hairs popping up as she turned away from the mirror.


A labored sigh escapes Satsuki’s lips. “I need some tea.” she resolves, walking to her wardrobe. Her stomach growls again, forcing her to place her hand upon it - the force of doing so causing the pudge to give a soft jiggle. “And some breakfast.”







Satsuki was still licking her lips as she departed her room. Her morning routine had been greatly prolonged by these changes - and while she could attribute most of it to issues arising from her height, there were… Complications that, if not caused directly caused by her new weight, were doubtlessly connected. Whether her body was nutritionally taxed by the radical changes or simply due to another humiliating alteration, she’d developed quite the appetite. Whatever the cause - when the class president was eating five times more food per meal, she highly doubted she’d be able to manage her weight or regain some semblance of her old proportions. 


In essence; the only hope she had of regaining any form of normalcy was to undo the alterations wholesale - and that’s precisely what she’s had the sewing club working on; as long as they’ve known about her secret. A week ago, it would’ve been a brief walk to their club room - more like a factory; given the nature and importance of their work - but striding on shorter legs made for a moderately longer journey. Satsuki arrived as she was accustomed - throwing the door open and striding in without a word. 


Heads turned; looking up from a number of drafting tables ringing the room - even hidden beneath their masks, she could see a handful of students open their mouths in preparation to turn her away, before recognition kicked in. Just a week ago, there wouldn’t have been any chance of her being mistaken for anybody else. Satsuki furrows her bushier brow as she strides across the room, disregarding the others. She finds the club president on the far end of the room; his back to her, conversing with a handful of others.


“Shiro.” she calls.


He doesn’t give a response. Whether through ignorance or attachment to his conversation, the blonde boy pays her no mind. Satsuki huffs, reaching out and grabbing him by the lab coat; tugging on it. A motion, she realizes just as she’s executing it, was more akin to a child getting a parent’s attention than a superior to an underling. 


“Hm?” he muses, turning. “Oh- ah, lady Satsuki. We were expecting you to be here… Earlier.” 


“Sorry to keep you.” Satsuki replies, poison in her tone. Even for as briefly as the balance of power had been upset, it was already showing its effects. Shiro was reacting more like he’d forgotten about some insignificant request more than a decree by the iron-fisted, undisputed ruler of the school - and furthermore, shifting the blame onto her. 


Shiro holds a hand out, and wordlessly another club member hand him a tablet. “Don’t worry about it.” he says - Satsuki can see a smile through his mask; as though he was being magnanimous. “I have your progress report ready - and… I think I have something that’ll surprise you. Right this way,” he motions to a nearby door, moving to it without breaking stride. “and make sure you put a mask on before you come through.” A number of masks hang beside the door - Shiro enters, and Satsuki reaches up for a mask…


Only to find herself unable to lift it off of the hook it hangs upon. Shiro advances without her - leaving her to struggle to grab one. Were it any other situation, she would have ignored it - but she knew full well where he was leading her. The main assembly line of the club room; where the club members toyed around with life fibers like kittens with balls of yarn. Particles and airborne fibers floated freely inside - so wearing that mask was a matter of life or death.


It took standing on the tips of her high-heeled boots for her to manage to pull one down, and use its elastic to sling it upward. It fell flat onto the floor, and Satsuki leaned down to pick it up…


And, in doing so, she became aware; for the umpteenth time this week, how frustratingly short her skirt had become. Her ‘safe’ uniform’s proportions had been based on the trapped one - and a combination of its shorter skirt and the wider berth of her hips made bending down a rather… Exhibitionistic affair. She could feel eyes burning on her back - and backside - until she stood up. When she turned to glare at the other club members, they’d already turned back to their work. As she slipped on the mask, she cursed the fact that it wouldn’t hide her blush.


Through the door, she passed through a quick decontamination chamber before venturing into the assembly floor. The metronomic churning and chattering of sewing machines filled the air just as thickly as little red motes of light; severed fibers hanging overhead. Tables lined with dutifully-laboring students lined the room - and in the middle of the first row, Shiro stood boredly.


“Wipe that look off your face.” Satsuki orders, trying to retain some semblance of dominance. “The sooner you dispel the illusion that this is some sort of inconvenience to you, the better.”


Shiro turns away, shrugging. “Oh, I’d never think anything of the sort, lady Satsuki. Now, if you’ll keep up this time…” 


Satsuki follows past the rows of students; she could see one-star uniforms in various states of assembly - the further she moved inward, the narrower the tables became; as she began to see two-star uniforms in manufacture. If nothing else - Satsuki was proud that the school was still operating so efficiently without her. She scratched at her bushier brow, quietly wondering - would her plan outlast her? Would it even need her?


She perished the thought before she gave it too much mind. Even in that instant, she was well aware that it was a dangerous train of thought to follow.


Shiro’s hands dance across his tablet, hardly sparing a moment to look down to Satsuki. “We deconstructed the uniform as you requested. In doing so, we isolated a solitary fiber. It wasn’t much - but you of all people understand the threat they can pose.” he explains. “But, what we found wasn’t the interesting part. It’s what we didn’t find.” Satsuki is led to a large, cylindrical machine with a glass center - inside, she can see the luminous red fiber stretched between two vicegrips. “Comparing the thread count and specifics of your… Traditional uniforms, and comparing the typical mechanics of imbuing clothes with life fibers… We found a portion missing. Almost unnoticeable, but, by our calculations... “ Shiro adjusts his glasses. “We believe a handful of life fibers are now circulating inside of your body.”


Satsuki balks. “What…” she murmurs, looking away, then down to herself. She presses a hand to her chest, her breathing beginning to quicken.


“But, that’s not the end of it.” he continues, motioning to the contained fiber. “We’ve come to theorize that the fiber that remained inside of the uniform acts as something of a… Master to the others. By manipulating it, we believe we can cause the others to react. Put simply…”


“You could fix me.” Satsuki says, trying to regain her composure. Shiro nods in affirmation. The news was bittersweet; having a probable cure was doubtlessly good - but that just left her with another problem. Having fibers in her - fibers that could be slaved to something else… Someone else… It was an achilles’ heel. One she certainly didn’t need. She pinches her brow and shuts her eyes, trying to focus - she could… Work with this. She’d just have to handle one problem at a time.


When she opens her eyes, she looks up to Shiro. “What are you waiting for, then?” she says, clearly frustrated. 


“Just your orders, lady Satsuki.” He taps his tablet a few times more and a metal case slides down over the fiber’s containment unit. Shiro reaches for it, and with a quick twist and a sharp hiss, he removes it from the rest of the machine. “We’ll have a test model ready by tomorrow.”


Satsuki huffs. “I’ll be back, then.” she says, turning to leave - only to be interrupted.


“Oh! I almost forgot. Nonon placed another order for an outfit for you. Should I have that delivered to your room, or hers? You know - I never imagined you’d be such a fan of playing dress-up… Well, at least it keeps us busy.”


Satsuki’s hands ball into fists. She doesn’t dignify the question with a response as she marches out of the sewing club. 







Satsuki’s days had become tests of endurance. An average day for her was typically filled with activity - not only for more utilitarian purposes, but furthermore to make her presence known - and further cement the idea of her omnipotence within the school. She had the energy, the time, and the drive to do it - but now…


She spent much of her time in her dorm. Most of her contact with her elite four was through video; their work had been quadrupled in her absence, monopolizing their free time - both to themselves and to report to her in-person. She spent most of her time staring at screens as she monitored the school; and getting disturbingly comfortable sitting on her plumper behind. Satsuki was ashamed of how much of a… Homebody she was becoming; even ignoring her grander goals, it was utterly unlike her on a deeply personal level - sitting around and stuffing her face. 


It was the kind of behavior she didn’t even expect of the one-stars. As she was now - she was acting like the pigs in human clothing she so-often derided. She placed a great deal of trust in Shrio and the sewing club to come through for her - and so when they did, she wasted no time in arriving for the first experiment. Her morning routine flew by - and, distressingly, she hardly saw any difference from when she took her time with it the day prior. She arrived at the club room just as dishevelled; just as tired as the day prior - but she found confidence in the sight of an end to her troubles.


Satsuki was ushered into a changing room by club members - and there, she found Shiro’s aforementioned ‘working model’. It… Was virtually identical to the outfit that had cursed her with this form; and appropriately, similar to the uniform she was already wearing. The sole difference was an armband on the jacket; white fabric with a big, black number one. 


Satsuki could feel a sense of warmth as she slid on the fabric - moreover, she could feel something inside of her resonating with it. Shiro’s hypothesis, she figured, was correct - there was something inside her… A part of her, though she hated thinking of it that way. To be bonded with life fibers; to have them a part of her body - it’s something she knew full well her mother would want. She’d never seen the extent of it - but she knew her mother had dabbled in experiments to that end. If Ragyo had her way, she’d be more clothes than woman - and would likely want the same of her darling daughter. The thought made her shudder, despite the almost soothing resonance radiating around her core.


Satsuki stepped out of the room in uniform, adjusting her scarf as she did so. Her heeled boots clicked against the sterile white floor as she was led through another decontamination room - and then, into a round, white room. The door clicked shut behind her - and, with a soft hum, the matte white walls faded - and she found herself surrounded, on all sides, by sewing club students; notebooks and tablets in hand.


“What is this?” she barks, placing a hand on her hip. A speaker on the ceiling crackles to life; Shiro’s voice coming out of it calmly.


“Don’t worry about the audience, lady Satsuki. This whole experience is… Something of a first. Everybody was so eager to study it - life fibers interacting inside and outside of somebody’s body… We just couldn’t miss a chance to observe.” he explains. 


Satsuki’s face goes red, and she scans the crowd for Shiro - unfortunately, unable to find him. “Don’t act like I’m some lab rat.” she spits.


“I’d never think of it, lady Satsuki.” he replies; though his tone says anything of the sort. “But, wouldn’t you agree that it could help us? You’ve poured your own blood, sweat and tears into this academy - doing this just… Shows how driven you are to help.”


As much as she wanted to fight - she had to admit… Shiro had a point. Making a display of her drive and confidence was something she needed right now - the last thing she needed to do was to display insecurity at a time like this. She huffs - and with that, relents. “Just get on with the experiment.” she orders.


“As you wish. Please step into the center of the room.” Shiro calls; and, though just barely, Satsuki could hear him murmur “We need a better view.” Satsuki - seeing no other choice in the matter - obeys. 

There’s a low hum in the test chamber as something begins to happen - something Satsuki can’t place. “Stimulating life fibers… Now.” Shiro calls - and reflexively, Satsuki braces herself. The shock of having her body condensed into this form was jarring the first time - she doubted reversing it would be much easier on her…


If it would happen.


A moment passes, and Satsuki can’t feel anything other than the persistent warmth. The students on the other side of the glass stare at her expectantly; some beginning to take notes. She pats at the uniform - as though that might kickstart it. Unfortunately, nothing of the sort happens.


“Nothing’s happening.” she calls.


“How very astute, lady Satsuki.” Shiro murmurs. “It’s probably a calculation error. It should be…”


Suddenly, Satsuki feels the uniform tighten again. She grunts; her fingers curling up. She can distantly hear a soft murmuring as the students begin to converse - all eyes are on her as the fabric begins to tighten. Tighten? No, that’s not what it was supposed to do. Was it? A bead of sweat rolled down Satsuki’s forehead as she awaited it to move again - and then, she immediately regrets it.


The first piece of clothing to make its move was her underwear. It hiked itself up and wedged itself tightly against her rear and her crotch; conforming to it - pinching in against the soft flab that’d built up around her hips. Her face grew flush as she felt it repeating its actions the week prior - it was pressing and massaging against her; back and front. “No-” she yelps out, pressing her hands down against her skirt; but that didn’t manage to do much. 


The resonance inside of her was intensifying; growing to a noticeable, pulsating beat - like a heartbeat rocking across her entire form. She’d gotten used to the new… Softness of her body shifting about in the past week; jiggling - but now, it felt like that sensation was happening across her entire body. Between the warmth inside and the anxiety she was feeling, she’d begun to sweat. This didn’t feel right at all - this didn’t…


She yelps again, her knees buckling and sending her falling forward as the possessed fabric strokes her more firmly; more deeply. “Shiro you bastard!” she shrieks. “Stop this right now!”


“I can’t!” he calls back - and for the first time in this damned week, he sounds sincere; sincerely panicked. “I’m trying to settle it down, but it’s not doing anything! This is…” he pauses, swallowing hard. “Fascinating…”


Once more, Satsuki feels a sense of helplessness enter her. She couldn’t fight against this - and now, nobody could help her. She was at the clothes’ will - and she could feel that pulsating reverberation… Narrowing. The quivering sensation was duller in her head; on her shoulders, back, extremities… And seemed to be channeling to more… Choice areas. She could feel her puffier nipples tenting against her bra as the sensation intensified around her breasts. Every pulse felt stronger - stronger there; stronger in her rear, and stronger in her…


Satsuki groans as she feels the fabric over her crotch tighten - not because the fabric itself is changing; but as she feels the flesh beneath it pushing outward. She feels the same sensation repeat with the next pulse; and carry, further, into her rear; into her breasts. Her underwear shifts; rubbing against her nipples and pussy - it’s all too gentle of a caress; far from forceful. If she were the type to… Allow herself such indulgences, then she might even say it was enjoyable - but now, sweating and quivering in front of a captive audience, she realizes that because she  doesn’t allow herself to indulge, this enforced pleasure might be having a greater impact. 


No matter her heritage and inheritance to REVOCs, no matter her personal motivation or confidence, no matter what - she was still a high schooler; and she wasn’t exempt from feeling aroused. Even with all the factors that would typically work to suppress this reaction - the shifting flesh and the gentle stroking of her own clothes against her body made sure that Satsuki was putting on a show. 


Satsuki could feel something building around her; a pressure rising that she felt powerless to stop; but obliged to try. “Shiro!” she cries. “Do whatever you can- stop it!” The desperation in her words feel like acid on her lips. It’s painful - but, she swears, necessary. She looks down at herself - and already she can see that she’s changing again; and not for the better. She wasn’t growing upward - she was growing outward. At first, she thought, she’d regained a bit of perkiness in her breasts - but now, she can tell that she hadn’t regained anything - they were expanding on their own right. The only firmness returning to her soft body was in that of her breasts - and, as she feels her skirt rising behind her, her rear too. Rather than packing on formless fat, her… Assets were shaping up to be round and shapely - but, as Satsuki feels around behind her, she can tell that they’re still pathetically pliable.


“Shiro!” she shouts. “Please…!” All of a sudden - she feels the pressure relax around her; and above the dull thrum of the machinery in the room and the muttering of the club members, she can hear a soft skittering. Looking downward - with some effort, she can see a couple buttons from her uniform’s jacket rolling across the ground. 


With that, the pulsing slowly stops - returning to a passive warmth. Satsuki reaches up to lay a hand on her face - but the jutting mass of her swollen breasts makes even such a simple motion a chore; having to work around her own body to do so. She sits, on the floor of the test chamber; her hair dishevelled, her face sweaty, her eyes tired, and her uniform damaged from her body bursting out from inside of it. And, as she does; she has a captive audience to watch all of it.


“Test number one… Results in failure.” Shiro says, only the slightest bit unnerved. “Please exit the chamber, lady Satsuki.”


By now, Satsuki wants nothing more than to do so. She adjusts herself on the ground - and in doing so, she can feel a bit of fabric slip past her chubby thighs. Thinking nothing of it, she stands - or, tries to. A rush of vertigo hits her, forcing her back down onto her hands and knees. “Oh…” she groans out. “This is… Terrible.”


When the rush passes, she moves upward, her heeled boots teetering on the ground. Once she’s balanced - she turns around and takes her first step forward…


And falls forward; her fall cushioned by her newest source of torment: her plumper breasts. She’d hardly gotten used to her new center of gravity - and now, fate saw it fit to add another offset to her weight both on her chest and behind her. She struggles to get back up,when she hears something odd from behind her.


Laughter.


She looks over her shoulder, and she can see a number of the club members laughing or hiding their faces with their notebooks. A look of confusion washes over her reddened face before she looks toward her back - to the jutting curvature of her rear… Which, as she notices a definite chill in the air, she realizes was completely bare.


“A-ah…” Satsuki stammers out - a dizzying rush rises to her head, and her face feels like it’d been pressed against a heater. As her body was swelling outward, her clothes couldn’t take the stress - but it wasn’t just the buttons of her uniform; so too was it her underwear. The tattered remnants of her slightly-dewy panties lay behind her - and the whole room had a perfect view of not just her enlarged ass; but of her swollen pussy and the dense mat of hair that covered it.


Her boots slid on the floor as she staggered to get up - and her hands pawed feebly at the ground as she tried to regain traction. Another step in this unfamiliar body sent her tumbling back down onto her side; evoking a more raucous bout of laughter. “No,” she whimpers. “no- no, no no…” She could feel her confidence cracking like it was in a hydraulic press. She reached behind her and threw off her boots, bolting through the door to the decontamination chamber.


Once locked inside, jets of air blasted at her from every direction - several from below, which she had always caught when she’d been cognizant enough to be aware of them; but with her mind already in a delirious tizzy of humiliation, she couldn’t catch her skirt before it was blown upward; and once more her ass and crotch were lain bare. The instant the door on the other side opened, she sped out. Her feet slapped on the sterile white floor, fleeing past the nearby students. “Don’t look!” she cries - a baleful shout rising up out of instinct. Her hands were pressed firmly against the crotch of her skirt, keeping the front down - but leaving the rear bare. Short as it was, it couldn’t cover the whole of her bloated ass in its entirety - and it regularly flipped upward as it jiggled; as she ran. Of course - her shrill, squeaky-voiced shout only drew more attention.


The rest of the school melted into a blur around Satsuki. It turned into nothing but a field of shapes and colors, all while her heart pounded in her chest and heat burned in her cheeks. She distantly registered throwing open the door to her dorm, but the next cognizant thought she had was once she was in her room. She was facing her bed; her hands were balled around the sheets - her first instinct was to throw herself onto it - but, she realized… She couldn’t reach; not without her stepstool.


She slumped onto her knees, leaning against her bed. Tears battered against her eyes; struggling to get out - and, while some managed, Satsuki held them back. This entire situation was… Unfathomable. Her body had gotten worse; even in her most pessimistic expectations of this experiment, she never imagined it’d result in something like this. She’d just flashed an entire room full of students; the very students who were instrumental to fixing this. Lastly - and perhaps most damning of all…


Satsuki’s first reaction was to run, hide, and cry. She didn’t understand the depths of the changes she’d faced - whether the fibers inside of her were just entwining themselves around her body, or if her mind, too, was bound. She didn’t know if she was being driven to act this way - or if it was all organic; if this was just how she was acting - how she was, in a body like this. She didn’t know what possibility was worse.


Satsuki sniffles, rubbing her cheeks; clearing them of the scant few tears she allowed herself to shed. Her hands lower themselves to her jacket, unbuttoning it and throwing it off. She threw off the cursed uniform - tomorrow, she’d send it back to Shiro. Whether or not she’d do so in-person had yet to be decided. This, she realized, was just the first test. How many more would there have to be, she wondered - how much worse could she get?


She turned to her mirror, and winced - she could hardly fathom getting worse than she was now. At the very least, her body was… Proportionate before. Her hips were a little wide, but her body was scaled appropriately. Now… Her breasts and ass would look jarringly large even on her normal frame. Her nipples had swollen too; they themselves and the areola around them being larger. Every step she took made her assets wobble - and she still bore the unflattering pudge about her stomach and thighs. Her pussy, too, was different - no longer buried under the newly-grown hair, it was puffy and… In a word, excited. 


She looked like some bizzare sex pet. Stacked assets, swollen sex, soft and petite. She bet that she’d even stand eye-level with most peoples’ crotches. The only area she was dissimilar in was her grooming; her bushy brows and dishevelled hair - now, her eyes looked even worse, a little red and puffy from resisting a breakdown. A far cry from the proud and driven iron-fisted student council president, in any case. 


Satsuki raises a hand to her eyes to rub them again; still feeling a little misty. She reaches for her stepstool and uses it to climb up onto her bed - when she lays her bare ass on the covers, it feels… Different. The meager act of sitting was odd; with her ass now taking up so much space - and providing such a… Cushion beneath her. She bounces a little; feeling the padded flesh quake and jiggle below - and feeling her breasts rock up and down as she did.


Having a chance to rest after her sudden exit, she can feel her legs cramping - and she can feel a burning in her chest. She ran much faster; much further than she thought she could anymore - and it was certainly taxing, especially being… Weighed down as she now was. Her hands run under her breasts, hefting them upward. Experimentally, she ran one over her nipple - and even as large as it was, as she touched it, it engorged further. Compared to the rest of her body, it looked like a rosy cork at the end of her bloated breast. 


A shuddering exhale escaped her lips as she did so. Despite the humiliation she’d just suffered - that throbbing excitement hadn’t yet abated. She couldn’t tell if the state of her pussy was just due to the fibers’ alterations - of if that was… Natural. She reached downward, intending to touch it… But she stops just short of doing so. The last thing she needed to do was start enjoying this. Before, there was nothing to enjoy - and now that there… Might be, she knew better than to indulge. Enjoying it was the first step to normalizing it. And, even if the road was long and hard… There was a theoretical end, somewhere along the line.


Satsuki shuddered at the thought of being stuck like this. A simpering nervous wreck in a bloated and soft form. She knew full well that her physical capabilities were greatly diminished, and with them, her mental faculties. She wasn’t strong anymore. She wasn’t swift. She didn’t have a commanding presence. She couldn’t be proud anymore; because there was nothing to be proud of - and it would only get worse before it got better. What was worse, she realized… Was that it was still early in the morning. She had the entire day to go - and for once in her life… She didn’t want to do anything at all.







The sound of heels clicking against stone reverberates within a darkened hall; its ceiling high and vaulted, leading to a grand room. Two pairs of echoes move throughout the room; so close to each-other so as to nearly be indistinguishable. The first comes from Ragyo Kiryuin; and the second from her assistant Rei. The almost metronomic sound of their lockstepped footsteps is broken as Ragyo speaks.


“What is the most important lesson you’ve learned during your time with me?” she asks, her eyes forward; and Rei’s eyes on her back. 


Rei looks down, then upward. “That people don’t wear clothes. Clothes wear people.” she responds, as if practiced - namely because she was practiced. This was a question Ragyo would prompt her with constantly. Even if she couldn’t see it - she trusted the response brought a smile to her employer’s lips.


“This is true. A truth that I hope, in my lifetime, is accepted universally.” she says. “But, some people cling defiantly to falsehood. Preferring to live in illusion and darkness,” Ragyo runs her well-manicured hands through her hair. “than in light. Would you believe that my very own flesh and blood would do this?” 


Rei shakes her head; even if the gesture isn’t seen. “I wouldn’t imagine, ma’am.” 


“This is true. Sadly. But, it’s a mother’s duty to teach her daughter about the truths of the world. So, I want you to tell me…” She glances over her shoulder. “How well am I doing?


Rei’s fingers tremble as she brings up her clipboard. “W-well. Reports from Honnouji Academy state that…” She lowers her head, avoiding Ragyo’s gaze. “Satsuki hasn’t been seen in public in some time. Our intern in the sewing club reports that… She’s…” Rei gulps. “Not what she used to be.”


“Meaning?”


“I think she’s learned-” Ragyo’s eyes narrow. “I think you taught her a very important lesson.” Rei quickly corrects. 


Ragyo smiles and turns back down the hall. “She’s a smart girl. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” she beams. “The gift I gave her. It’s wearing her. But… What would a human do when their clothes no longer fit? Or when a new season comes?”


“They get new clothes.” 


Ragyo chuckles. “And I’m sure Satsuki will come to fit wonderfully, in time.” She stops before the door at the end of the hallway. “I’m glad she’s learning so quickly - because her lesson isn’t over yet.”


