Still trying to determine just how much bigger Tina had made your already huge butt, you fail to catch the garment she throws over the door of the fitting room. You bend over unsteadily to pick it up, your fat jiggling and shifting awkwardly as you try to account for your fattened female form. A sharp and decidedly feminine gasp escapes your plump lips as you feel your big butt bump into the side of the stall before you've even made it all the way down. You're forced to bend over further anyway, and your fattened cheeks squish against the wall, pancaking out as you go lower and lower. Clearly the fitting rooms weren't made with a woman of your size in mind, you catch yourself thinking.
For a moment you're relieved; Tina's new recommendation clearly isn't a thong. But on closer inspection you realize that it's much, much worse.
"Oh come on, booty shorts? I get that you made me a fatass but do you really have to rub it in this much?" you pout.
'If you hate the idea that much, I could just make your butt even bigger until those fit you like a thong..." Tina trails off before laughing.
You gulp.
"But I picked those out just for you! I found the lettering on the back to be quite accurate, don't you?"
Lettering? You suddenly realize that you'd only been looking at the front side of the hot pink shorts. Turning them around revealed large white letters that spelled out the word T H I C C.
"No. Nope. No, I won't. I'm still a man!" you pout, stamping your foot and inadvertently causing your fat butt to jiggle and quiver. You had to admit, it didn't come across as very manly.
Tina says nothing, but the feeling of a few more inches piling onto your bloated backside says enough. Your butt is almost more than the fitting room can handle, you're close to pressing up against the walls while just standing there. Any more disobedience and Tina might make you too big to get out.
"Fine."
You take a deep breath and then step into the booty shorts, cramming your fat thighs into the obviously too-small holes. The fabric groans around them, squeezing your thick, flabby legs as you inch the shorts upwards, closer to your butt. It's more exercise than this body is meant to handle, and in no time you're panting, sweat dripping from every fatty inch of you. The shorts reach your ass and your mind boggles--there's just so much of you. So much ass, and such a tiny amount of fabric to cover it. You pull sharply upwards, figuring your best bet is to try to get them on with all the force you can muster. The shorts slide up over the soft expanse of your ass easily enough, but they begin to wedge into your deep crack. "Mmmmmmmmph fuckkkkkk..." is all you can manage in response, the physical exertion and sudden sensation forcing you to lose any pretense about your current situation. The grunts and groans escaping your lips are all female, and there's nothing you can do.
Eventually you can pull the shorts up no more. Between the deep wedgie and the sheer size of your new butt, there is nowhere else for them to go. Turning to the fitting room mirror, you blush a deep crimson, your embarrassment immediate and overwhelming. You might as well have put on a thong, as the shorts had wedged just about as deep and covered just about as much. The lower two-thirds of your huge butt was completely exposed, the shorts rested near the top third but did little to cover it. The letters were warped just short of being unrecognizable, and the I had disappeared altogether into your crack--which, you realized, made your crack essentially complete the word.
"Are you done in there?" Tina yells. "We're leaving soon! You're coming with me to..."
Where does Tina take you next?
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