Flirty Tailor Takes Your Measurements | Written Version

We have another one, folks. This time we're going back to Supple Row to have our measurements taken by the flirtatious tailor Adam Pose, which is one of my absolute favorite audios. This version does differ from the original audio a bit--I turned up the heat a bit and made the Listener a lot more flirtatious than they're implied to be in the original.

This is probably the last written version that I'll be posting for a bit, at least until I can get some new audios out and make the official switch with the tiers and everything. But for now, I hope you enjoy~

It wasn't quite what you'd expected it to be—or, rather where you'd expected it to be. Based on its reputation, you'd expected the tailor's shop to be located in some luxurious private villa in the countryside, or in the penthouse of a high-rise in the garment district. But in reality, it was quite a modest little place, nestled at street-level between an apartment complex and apothecary in a historic but overall unassuming part of town. The trims and fittings were definitely of a finer quality than standard wood, but nothing nearly as decadent as you'd seen in the homes of your newfound social circle. Somehow that made things a bit less intimidating.

You were still quite new to it all: the wealth, the fame, the indulgence and intrigue—and on the whole, you still felt out of place. Not long ago, you were just an average citizen, and now all of a sudden you were an executive member of a prestigious advertising firm and made more money in a week that you had in your entire life. It was surreal, to say the least, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying it. The indulgence especially—your newfound girth was more than proof of that.

It had only been a few months since you'd joined the upper echelon of society, and in that time you'd already filled out quite substantially. You weren't quite sure of how much weight you'd gained, but your belly had definitely grown much fuller and rounder, and every part of your body seemed to feel much softer as of late.

At first you'd felt self-conscious about it, how rapidly you'd grown and how big you'd gotten. Then you looked at those around you, your peers in wealth and success, and you realized that you were often still the thinnest in the room. As it turned out, in this tier of society, being fat and indulgent was not only accepted but encouraged, as it was a sign of just how successful you truly were. In fact, it was common for these socialites—or would "social-heavies" be more appropriate?--to host galas and gatherings for the sole purpose of fattening themselves and each other.

It was at one of these galas that you'd been recommended this tailor shop. According to those you'd spoken to, its owner was the premier artisan of clothing for those in the indulgent class, and there wasn't a single person alive who could craft garments as skillfully as he.

Still, part of you felt guilty about attending this appointment today. Inevitably you were only going to get bigger, and it seemed wasteful to purchase tailored garments only to grow out of them a few months later. But, then again, if his primary clientele were wealthy, indulgent hedonists, he must have known that.

And so, here you were.

A little bell jingled when you opened the door, and the bustle of the square disappeared when you closed it. Just like the exterior, the interior was rather unassuming, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that the decorations and furnishings, while few, were of very high quality and very skilled craftsmanship. The palette was dark but warm, with rich, deep browns and jewel-tone reds creating an air of luxury and intimacy—and perhaps even a bit of romance.

Soft footsteps sounded from another room, and a flocked velvet curtain parted to reveal who could only be the tailor himself. He was clad in a charcoal grey suit with a faint grid pattern that accentuated his form beautifully, and while he wasn't massive by any means, his full, round belly spoke of his fair share of indulgences, and his strong, broad chest showed his pride thereof. He was a handsome man, with warm sapphire eyes and dusty blonde hair coiffed into a neat shape atop his head, as well as a soft, gentle face that made you feel welcome.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting," he said. His voice was refined but warm, like milky tea, and instantly the tension in your body eased. "I've spent the last hour hand-sewing button holes and simply needed a moment of respite."

"It's not a problem," you assured. "I only just got here myself."

"Right, thank you for your patience. Now, remind me again, your name is...?" You told him, and he nodded. "Ah, yes, that's right, we spoke on the phone a few days ago. You're here on recommendation from...Master Growth, is that correct?"

"Yes, he gave me your card at his last event. He spoke very highly of you."

"Yes, Master Growth and I have known each other for years, and it's due in great part to him that I've earned the reputation I have. Always helpful to have a traveling man on one's side—the words of his mouth travel quite far, and now I have clients from all over coming to me. I owe a lot to him." He clapped his hands together once, and his pleasant smile widened a bit. "Well, let me be the first to welcome you to Supple Row, the premiere tailoring parlor creating the finest of clothing for the most corpulent of bodies. I am Adam Pose, the owner of this shop and the trusted tailor of many a wealthy client. I cater to a broad range of widths and girths, male, female, and everything in between, but for each client my goal is the same: to create exquisite pieces that display not only their abundant wealth, but also accentuate their abundant bodies. And I must say, you've got quite the abundant body yourself, haven't you?"

Mr. Pose took a few steps closer and examined you. You felt a bit of redness creeping onto your cheeks as his eyes traveled up and down your body.

"What business are you in, if I may ask?"

"I'm on the executive board of Obesus, an advertising firm."

"Yes, I've heard of them. I believe I've served a few clients from there, as well. How long have you been there?"

"Just a few months."

"Ah, is that so?" A playful smirk appeared on his lips. "Well, it seems you've taken to your position quite well, judging by that big belly of yours. But with a name like 'Obesus,' that's only natural."

The redness on your cheeks grew hotter, and you averted your gaze. "I...suppose so."

He chuckled and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Oh, come now, there's no need to blush! Remember, in our circles, obesity is a sign of fortune and prosperity. For someone in your position, it's not only expected but encouraged that you fatten up. Surely you've heard this from Master Growth before—I am a man of size myself, as you can see, so please, don't be embarrassed. I assure you, by the time I'm through with you, you'll be flaunting your fat at every function you attend."

Your blush didn't subside, but hearing that was definitely comforting. Despite his prestige, Mr. Pose radiated a kind of warmth and pleasantry that made you feel as if you'd known him your entire life. Suddenly you didn't feel guilty about outgrowing your clothes-to-be—then you'd have an excuse to come back here and bask in that warmth again.

Mr. Pose stepped back and clapped his hands together. "Now, what type of function am I designing for, hmm? Are you looking for something casual, more in the daywear range, or something a bit more luxurious, for nighttime revelry?"

"Well, I'm still rather new to all of this, so I think something a bit on the simpler side would be better. I haven't quite developed expensive tastes yet—except for food anyway."

He chuckled. "Yes, that's very clear. We'll go with casual option, then. But even so, I will take the utmost care in ensuring that every roll and curve of your bountiful body is accentuated in the most beautiful manner." He winked. "So, if you'll come with me to the dressing room, I'll get your measurements. Follow me."

You trailed behind him as he led you through the curtains and into a small room with a large three-panel mirror and a counter topped with various sewing tools and notions.

"All right, if you'll just remove your coat for me, please."

You did as instructed, but before you could set it down, he had taken it from you and hung it on a small rack behind you.

"Now then, just stand up as straight as you can, and if at any point you find you need to sit down, just let me know, and sit you shall. I know that for some people of size, standing for long periods of time can be especially exhausting, and I wish to ensure that you're as comfortable as possible during this process."

"I should be all right—but thank you, Mr. Pose."

"Oh, please, call me Adam. Save the titles for the galas. I like to treat my clients more as friends than business partners. That said, I do like to maintain a level of professionalism, and I will need to measure some potentially...intimate or sensitive places during this session. But rest assured that nothing inappropriate will transpire between us today—that is, unless you'd like it to. I do have a lounge in the next room if you'd like to have some fun."

Adam's eyes glittered with a mischievous twinkle, and you blinked a few times in surprise. "Ah...come again?"

He chuckled lightly and turned to the tools on the counter. "My apologies for being so forward—you'll learn quickly that I am quite the flirtatious type. I hope I didn't offend you."

"N-No, not at all! I was just...surprised, that's all."

"Well, if being surprised means I get to see that adorable little blush of yours, perhaps I should startle you more often. But for now, we've a schedule to keep, so let's proceed."

He turned to you once again, holding an extra-long measuring tape. "I'll start with your torso and work my way down. Back straight for me, please."

You did as instructed, and he wound the tape around your chest. It was a sizable number, but there was still plenty of slack left in the tape, well over a hundred inches. Would you ever grow to that size, you wondered? There had been a few guests at Master Growth's party whose sizes had left you absolutely dumbfounded. Some were so wide that they needed two or three chairs to contain them, and others had bellies so large that their arms couldn't reach the table. It was shocking, to say the least, but there was a little part of you that couldn't help but feel inadequate in comparison. And maybe even a little jealous. After all, they had dozens of people frequenting their table the entire night, chatting and laughing and feeding them. You wondered if you could ever attract that level of attention.

"Are you comfortable?"

You jumped a bit at his voice. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Lost in thought, are we?" He was making his way down your arm as he spoke. "Care to share?"

"It's nothing, really. Your measuring tape just reminded me of some of the guests Mr. Growth's gala. I've never seen one so long before, but I guess it's necessary when catering to people that fat."

"Yes, I've been doing this for many years, and having an extra-long tape is an absolute necessity. I've catered to nearly every shape and size you could imagine: pot-bellies and barrel-guts, broad chests and bulging bosoms, curvaceous hips and plump bottoms—but I will say, your shape is definitely one of the nicest I've seen. I can only imagine how nice it will look when clothed in my garments. Though something tells me you won't be keeping them on for very long, what with how good you'll look and all."

The redness returned to your cheeks. He wasn't wrong. Food was a very sensual thing, you'd learned, and oftentimes these fattening galas led straight to the bedroom.

Adam chuckled as he recorded the last measurement he'd taken. "Mmm, there's that blush again. I'm surprised you haven't fainted with all that blood rushing to your head." He set down his pencil and stepped over to you once more. "You know, I think I was wrong earlier. You should blush more often—you look so adorable with reddened cheeks. Like a plump, juicy cherry just begging to be bitten." He leaned in a bit closer, his eyes twinkling and his lips practically bouncing with a smirk. "I certainly wouldn't mind taking a bite out of them."

You liked to think you were rather restrained as far as sex was concerned, but hearing that made you want to grab him by the lapels and suck the air right out of his lungs. It was no wonder he had so many clients! With that face and that tongue, he could charm the pants off of anyone he met and return them with a jacket to match.

"I'm sorry, I hope I haven't offended you. If you couldn't tell, I find you very beautiful, so I'm having a hard time keeping my flirtations in check."

"You haven't offended me at all," you replied, trying your best to reciprocate his smooth tone. "In fact, I...quite like them."

You wondered if it was inappropriate to engage in this way. This was a place of business, after all, and you'd only met less than an hour ago. But it was also Adam's place of business, and he had just admitted that he found you attractive—certainly that entitled you to a bit of fun, didn't it?

"Ah, is that so? Well, good. Not only do I love making people look good, I also like making them feel good. That said, it is time for me to measure your lower half—starting with your hip, which...also includes your bottom. Is that all right?"

You smirked. "By all means, Mr. Pose, wrap yourself around me."

Adam's eyes widened a bit, and a faint bit of pink dusted his cheeks. Just a moment later, he returned your smirk and wound the tape around your hips. His eyes lingered on the number for a moment, and you felt the tape squeeze you just a bit tighter.

"Like what you see?" you asked.

"I do," he replied. "It is a...very nice number, and I always get a bit excited when I see such nice numbers. A prosperous body speaks to a prosperous life, and it seems that you are prospering quite well."

"Hopefully I continue to do so," you said. "That way I can give you some more nice numbers to gaze upon in the future."

"Well, let's not discount the present. I haven't finished with you quite yet. I still have the rest of your leg to go, and then the neck, as well."

"Then by all means, continue."

Releasing your hips, Adam knelt down before you and wrapped the tape around your thighs. Every part of your leg must have given him very nice numbers, for he lingered on his knees far longer than he surely needed to. By the time he went to measure the rise, you were tingling with pleasure both inside and out, and feeling his hands maneuvering about your crotch and pelvis was enough to send a little shiver up your spine.

"Stay still," he whispered. "I don't want any inaccuracies."

"I do," you replied. "Then you'd have to measure me again."

He chuckled and stood upright once more. "And here I was thinking you were meek and frightened—seems you've got quite the mischievous side, don't you?"

You shrugged. "Food isn't my only indulgence."

He wound the tape around your neck, which had been steadily disappearing for months, and pulled you in a bit closer. "Nor mine," he murmured. Your foreheads touched, and his eyes twinkled like crystals. "May I?"

You closed the distance for him. It was a gentle kiss, as well as a brief one, but long enough for you to feel just how soft and tender Adam's lips were. Your own were tingling when he pulled away.

"Thank you for the tip," Adam said.

"Hopefully I can say the same."

He chuckled and draped the tape around his shoulders. "You are quite the delight. I haven't had this much fun in a long time. But I'm afraid you are not my only client, and our time together is rapidly winding down. So regrettably, we cannot continue at this given time. However, I've taken all of the necessary measurements, and I've got a good idea of where to start. I should have some preliminary sketches done for you within the next few days, and then within a week or so I should have the block drafted and mocked up in muslin. When it's done, I'll have you come in for a fitting, and we can pick up where we left off. How's that sound?"

"It sounds fine. I'm eager to see what you come up with."

"Yes, and I'm eager to run my hands all over your corpulent form again—to fit the bodice, of course. But please, promise me that you'll continue blushing the next time you come in—cherries are my favorite fruit, you know."

"I'll be sure to feed you well, Mr. Pose."

He smiled. "Splendid. I can hardly wait for our next session together—but for now, I'll walk you out. Follow me, and please, don't be afraid to appreciate my measurements while we walk."