Patreon Prompt 207

Prompt: A woman’s summer job at an amusement park involves her dressing up like the park’s mascot, an obese armadillo man. As she puts the outfit on, she realizes too late that her position will require her to get very into character.

   Cindy grimaced as she gazed upon the pile of rubber in front of her. Not knowing what was worse between the pay and humiliation, she sucked it up and got ready. As she struggled to get the suit in the right position, her eyes became transfixed on the poster in the dressing room baring the park’s mascot. Arnold the Armadillo was a chubby cartoon character that had been entertaining kids of all ages for many years. As she pondered how she was going to maintain the act lugging around the heap of rubber in the hot sun, she felt something akin to a leech latch onto her leg.

   Looking away from the poster, Cindy let out a scream as the suit began to move on its own. Her body became engulfed in the rubbery mass as it clung to her skin. The costume moved on its own to ensure everything was in the proper place and that her face was fully covered by the head piece. Left in complete darkness, she jumped back as she felt the zipper slide itself up to complete her costume change.

   A blink of her eyes had her once more staring at the interior of the dressing room. She instantly knew that something was off as she tried to move around in the costume. Each shake of the outfit’s blubbery limbs felt all to real. Sliding the gloves along the long nose on her face and the red shell covering her back made it feel as if she was touching her own skin. Waving about her tail as she slowly began to realize what had happened to her, she wobbled her way towards the dressing mirror to get a good look.

   Standing in her reflection was Arnold Armadillo, his body moving in accordance with her thoughts. The cartoonish appearance was somewhat ruined as her eyes looked down to see a sizable bump around the costume’s crotch area. Daring to let a single finger graze against his newly grown manhood, his guttural yelp of distress as he felt it twitch called forth the park manager to open up the door.

   “Ah good, you’re suited up,” he said, treating it as just another day on the job. “Okay, head into Room B. Rachel Rattlesnake will be waiting for you to take care of your ‘little package’ before you head out.” Before Cindy could have a chance to speak, the manger began pushing him out the door. “Now hurry up, you have a show at 10 and I’d rather not get another call from a concerned parent. People are so oversensitive these days.”