Author's Note

Contains: weight gain, cursed flight suits, identity replacement, dorkification, and Thunderlane becoming a Wonderbolts Superfan

Day 22 - Alter Ego (Thunderlane)

Thunderlane had finally done it. The final nail in his coffin, dooming his chances of continuing as a Wonderbolt. An act of high treason, surely forcing Soarin’ and Spitfire to discharge him from service and bring dishonor to his family.

He’d forgotten his flight suit.

Now normally that’d be an embarrassing but forgivable anecdote that the older Wonderbolts would use to playfully bully him with. They had spare suits at the barracks and, while it was humiliating using a rarely washed suit that a number of other ponies had worn before him, it was better than flying in the nude.

But he was nowhere near the barracks. No, he was at a Wonderbolts Fan Convention, of all things, and there was no chance of an official replacement suit for hundreds of miles around him. And he had to join the current Wonderbolts in just under an hour to host a Q&A.

Which is why he currently prowled the vendor’s hall.

Having walked the hall the day prior, before being swamped by fans asking for autographs of course, he saw that the Wonderbolts fan community had a strange, borderline obsessive fascination with recreating the suits he and his team wore through the years. From the very beginnings, through the odd designs that plagued his predecessors 20 years ago, through to the modern day.

All for a price Thunderlane considered daylight robbery, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

Thunderlane stopped in front of one particular stall in the back, nervously adjusting the mask and sunglasses combo he used to hide his identity. His strong, muscular physique, cocky attitude, and huge, well-preened gray wings surely couldn’t give him away if he hid his golden eyes and goofy grin whenever he saw a fan dressed like him.

The stall in question had surprisingly high-quality replicas of several Wonderbolts uniforms and, reaching out to feel one of the modern ones, Thunderlane could hardly tell the difference in material. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they were stolen straight from the locker rooms.

“Like what you see?”

Thunderlane jumped back as the stall’s owner made himself known. A stout stallion short enough to disappear behind the merchandise as he sat, he stood with a grin that was almost too wide as he regarded Thunderlane. Brown, greasy slicked back hair and golden teeth that glistened brightly under the harsh light of the room, the stallion looked like he’d be better suited to selling off-brand knick-knacks or bootleg VHSes.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Thunderlane’s hands found the modern Wonderbolts flight suit again, stroking its leather surface for support. “It’s… pretty great quality. Almost feels like the real thing.”

The stall’s owner shrugged, his expression not belying any of his thoughts while his bright green eyes seemed to read Thunderlane’s with ease. “It’s quite the remarkable piece! Not many ponies today are selling the current style, nor are they interested in buying it. I take it you’re…” The stallion’s gaze narrowed as he looked Thunderlane up and down, eyes glinting with a mischievous aura. “A fan?”

Thunderlane forced a laugh at that, adjusting his disguise yet again. “Hah, s-something like that! How much would this suit go for right now?”

The stallion hummed, and Thunderlane wasn’t sure if it was because he was truly coming up with a price or because he just wanted to see the Wonderbolt squirm.

“20 bits and it’s yours.” He finally decided, large, golden grin still splitting his face.

Thunderlane blinked.

20 bits didn’t even cover the cleaning cost on one of his suits, much less the actual suit itself.

Reaching for his bag of bits, he shot the stall’s owner a strange look. “Are you sure? Honestly, I was expecting to pay something like 500.”

The stallion hummed again, and Thunderlane briefly kicked himself for talking himself out of such a good deal. There was no way this guy would sell for anything less now that he knew what it was worth.

But the stallion just shrugged moments later. “I think 20 is fair. You seem like a stallion in need, after all.” He gave a strange laugh as he pulled the suit off of his table, folding it up neatly and depositing it in a bag to his side. “Now, it may seem a bit small for a man of your… impressive stature. But I assure you that one size truly does fit all.”

Thunderlane nodded slowly as he handed over the bits in exchange for his temporary suit. He supposed it made sense. The material was stretchy enough, and he could probably just deal with the tightness for at least the length of one panel.

Assuming he kept certain bits hidden behind the table, at least.

Thunderlane bowed his head to the stallion running the stall. “T-thank you sir!” He said with a sigh of genuine relief. “I’ve got no idea what I’d do without this suit.”

As Thunderlane dashed off to get changed, the stallion waved him off with the same grin as always. “No problem! Good luck at your panel!”

Thunderlane grimaced. Of course he’d blown his cover, but he didn’t have the time to worry about that. He had to get changed.

Thunderlane rushed up to his hotel room, ensuring the door shut behind him before entering the bathroom and getting ready to change into his temporary flight suit.

Pulling it out of the bag it was stored in… it was way too small.

Almost comically so as he held it up to himself in the mirror, his muscles and height overshadowing the slimmer, shorter model that the cosplay piece was surely meant for. In fact, the only bits of the costume that were larger than Thunderlane was a distended stomach, wide almost child-bearing hips, and a mildly overexaggerated crotch.

Thunderlane couldn’t help but laugh as he tugged at the crotch of the suit. “Geeze, who in Tartarus was this suit made for?”

But the laughter only lasted until the moment Thunderlane realized that he’d still have to put it on. And, begrudgingly, he began to strip down completely to get this all over with. The quicker it was on, the quicker he could get through the stupid panel.

To the suit’s credit it certainly unzipped and wore like an official one, gliding up his body comfortably for the first portion. It began to get a little rough as he tried to pull it up his calves, eased up considerably around his crotch and waist, but by the time he got it to his chest he struggled to get it stretched across his wide chest and swollen traps. He was only barely able to slide his wings through their holes and zip the back closed.

He couldn’t even figure out how he’d be getting the hood of the suit on, letting it flop in front of him for the time being.

Looking into the mirror, the problem was clear to Thunderlane. He held his arms out away from his sides, fearing that lowering them would cause his muscles to ripple and shred the suit from the shoulders down. The same was true for his chest, the latex fabric of the suit pulled taut enough across it that the Wonderbolt wasn’t sure if even breathing would split it wide open.

“One size fits all my a… aah~”

Thunderlane’s breathless complaint quickly transitioned to a needy whine as an intense heat filled the suit. Pleasure wracked the poor stallion as the tight suit began to tingle and thrum, practically buzzing with a strange arcane energy.

The bit of Thunderlane that wasn’t distracted with the brewing pleasure grew a bit concerned as the tight flight suit grew… less so. Calves that bulged and swelled with each step now fit snugly in their containment, arms now slowly felt more comfortable relaxing at his sides. Even his impressive chest, before straining the very integrity of the fabric, now seemed to shrink and sag to perfectly fit the confines of the suit.

But that wasn’t to say the size disappeared entirely. No, as Thunderlane continued to shrink, muscle replaced itself with adipose that latched itself onto his belly, thighs, and rear. Formerly trim and cut, Thunderlane felt his stomach balloon into a nice, full gut while behind him grew a wide, wobbly ass.

With widening hips and thickening thighs, it would be easy to mistake Thunderlane as a plump mare from the neck down. To the stallion’s horror and arousal, he realized that he’d become his own type.

“What the fu- uhn~”

Thunderlane’s voice cracked as he moaned, surging upwards as the stallion’s body shrank downwards. He lost an entire foot of height, now a much less impressive 5 feet tall, but every inch of it found its way to the roomy crotch of his suit. Throb by throb and inch by inch, Thunderlane’s already sizable member swelled between his thick thighs, bulging the pouch that strained to keep it contained as it grew to ludicrous proportions.

As Thunderlane’s hands ran over his body in disbelief, the now feminine, yet decidedly male, stallion stared at his reflection with detached shock.

The stall’s owner hadn’t lied about him fitting in the suit.

But he couldn’t show up to the panel like this.

No, he needed to go back to that stall and get the owner to undo whatever curse or spell the flight suit cast on him. Bracing himself for an embarrassing sprint, Thunderlane rushed to leave his hotel room.

But with every stumbling step he took, he could feel his sensitive new body jiggling and rubbing oh so nicely against the latex flight suit. From his oversized bulge to his seat devouring ass, to even his plump moobs, Thunderlane’s entire body worked against him to get him feeling like an embarrassed, blushing mess.

He couldn’t be seen like this. If a single fan saw him in this state he wouldn’t only be disgraced as a Wonderbolt, but also as the stud he struggled to present himself as. One wrong move and he’d forever be known as the bottom-heavy femboy of the Wonderbolts.

And Soarin’ would never let him live it down.

Despite every instinct telling him not to, he pulled the hood of the costume over his head to preserve his anonymity. Hoping that now he could just fade into the crowd of Wonderbolts Superfans, Thunderlane again rushed towards…

Thunderlane rushed…

Thunder…

Thunder Clapper felt a wide grin bloom across his face as he looked himself in the mirror. He openly ogled the way his short and stout body fit perfectly in the suit that had been practically gifted to him. One hand rubbed against his plump belly in small circles while the other groped his plush, wobbling rear.

“G-golly, it’s like the suit was made for me!” Thunder Clapper moaned out, swelling buckteeth pushing a cute lisp into the dorky stallion’s light and chipper voice. “I should go back to that stud’s stall and… thank him~”

Just the prospect of that caused Thunder Clapper’s hyperactive libido to go into overdrive, the large bulge in his replica flight suit growing upwards until every throb and vein of the dork’s impressive cock could be seen with ease.

Thunder Clapper wasn’t embarrassed however, his hands caressing his bulge through the suit as he giggled loudly. He loved his big, handsome body and loved seeing the reactions ponies looked between his plump belly, mareish hips, and huge, fertile stallion-breaker.

But the laughter didn’t last for long, Thunder Clapper finally realizing how long he’d spent sliding the suit on and staring at himself in the mirror.

“Ah h-heck, I’m gonna miss the panel!” Thunder Clapper cried, rushing off to the door to his hotel room and jiggling all the way.

He couldn’t miss seeing his favorite flight team in person, after all.