mrcavanaughtf
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Filling Him Out
🕑 Added 2018-12-19 21:43:02 +0000 UTC It's been no secret that my boss cares more about looks than intelligent. He'll promote people simply because he thinks they'll be a good 'face' of the company while completely overlooking the people with the actual skills to help the company. That was the situation I found myself in as, despite being the most qualified person for the position, I found myself at risk of losing out on a promotion to one Clay McDougal.Clay was the office charmer with his good looks and big muscles and I was somewhat lacking in both departments which left me as something of an afterthought. I existed only in the shadow of Clay's popularity and it was nothing short of a certainty that he would be the one receiving the position I had trained the last several years for simply because the boss liked his look and ability to sweet talk anyone. When it came to actual business Clay was useless and time and time again I had proven myself to be the most valuable player on the team but my contributions were all too often overlooked, especially if Clay could take credit for them in my place.
The only person who seemed unimpressed by Clay's schmoozing attitude was one of the other middle managers, Robbie Clarkson. On paper it seemed like Robbie would be one of Clay's biggest supporters - they were both classically handsome with their bodies very visibly reflecting their dedication to the gym and both indeed were very popular with the others in the office. Unlike Clay and I's boss though, Robbie regarded Clay with a cold shoulder and acted as if he was more of a bother than an asset to the company as everybody else seemed to believe.
Having not had much contact with Robbie in the past, I was more than a little surprised when he pulled me aside the morning of my interview for the newly opened position. Everybody knew that the only applicants to the position were myself and Clay and it was seemingly common knowledge that my rival was a shoe-in for the position despite the fact he had bluffed his way through his previous three years in business and his resume wasn't nearly as outstanding as my own.
"What can I help you with, sir?" I asked, attempting to quell the quiver in my voice as I glanced up at Robbie who stood a good several inches taller. There was no hiding that I was attracted to him but considering his senior position in the company as well as the fact he was easily strong enough to snap my skinny frame in two should he want to, I did my best not to draw attention to it.
"You know, Smith, you remind me a lot of myself," he started, his voice deep and rumbling and sending shocks straight down my spine. "I want to help. They've already got their minds made up on McDougal for this position but I think you deserve that chance a whole lot more than he does. I see the work you put in day in and day out. Its time you got some recognition."
I found myself totally transfixed and at a loss for words. Previously I hadn't even been aware that Robbie knew I existed but here he was telling me that I reminded him of himself? It seemed highly unlikely but the offer of help had perked my interest. "How do you propose to help me?" I asked, nervously glancing around the room to ensure that neither Clay nor one of his fanclub was lurking around nearby to overhear us.
Clay handed me a parcel in response. It was surprisingly light and as I peered inside, I found myself staring at white fabric. "A new shirt," Robbie declared, "Wear it into your interview and you'll be a lock for the job. Trust me, I tried a trick just like it and... well, you see where I am now. Long way from just being the tea boy." I tried to imagine Robbie as the lowly office tea boy and simply couldn't do it. There was no way a stud like him would ever be taken for granted! A skinny dweeb like me... well that was much more believable.
I was doubtful that something as little as a new shirt would prompt a surprise win over the perfect Clay McDougal but I was hardly about to coldly reject the gift offered to me so I thanked Robbie and hurried off to change my shirt. As I pulled it over my shoulders I began to feel a surprising warmth and stumbled against the restroom sink to steady myself. Breathing became a laborious task and every time my chest expanded with a breath it didn't seem to retreat but instead grow further until I was now looking at a barrel-like chest with firm, solid pecs and clearly defined abs. The pristine white shirt was suddenly stretched out around broad shoulders and thick muscles and I even seemed to have grown several feet in height, pushing past the six-foot mark.
It was hard to believe but I now had a body to rival Clay and suddenly my chances of getting the promotion seemed to shoot up. I strode into the boss' office with a purpose, holding my head up high and puffing my chest out. For the first time ever he actually seemed interested to hear from me, even questioning when I'd begun to take such good care of myself.
Clay never showed up for the interview, nor indeed for work after that, and it took me a few weeks to understand why. Every now and then I would catch Robbie smirking at me and he would ask questions about the shirt, always reinforcing how good it looked on me. He wasn't just hitting on me - although I was rather comfortable with that thought - but instead was inferring why the shirt was so particularly special. The pieces fell into place while I snacked on a chicken salad one day in my brand new office and I tracked down Robbie, eager for answers.
"He's the shirt, isn't he?" I questioned, deliberately re-positioning to show off more of my muscular frame through the fabric. "You made Clay my shirt." After such a rapid growth in muscle nothing seemed too impossible to believe anymore. The remarks about Robbie formerly being a tea boy and seeing a lot of himself in me had made far more sense after my unexpected changes as I could only imagine his size and beauty were the result of a similar transformation provoked by physical contact with some enchanted item of clothing.
The other man's smile told me everything I needed to know and as the implications of his confirmation rippled through my mind I found myself suddenly eager to bust open the seams of the shirt by flexing out of it. There was no way Clay was getting the better of me ever again and what better way was there to finally prove myself as the better man than to be the only man? Considering how much Clay loved the competition of business, I was sure he would understand.
