Maggie put the last piece on, it was difficult considering she had to keep her glasses on at the same time but she got there. She could have gone without her glasses but everything would have been blurry. With all the planning, plotting, and dreaming the last thing she wanted was it to be out of focus. She was certainly crystal clear, or the reflection of her was staring out back at herself from the mirror in her brother's apartment. Not looking at her face, since that was hidden behind the dark lens and the silver mouth of the Pink Ranger's helmet. Yeah, THAT one from the old Power Rangers TV show.
She remembered how her brother had loved it when he was a little kid, running around with his friends from the neighborhood yelling about how they were the Red, Black, Green, Blue, or White Ranger. Always telling her that she was either the Yellow or Pink because, "Those are the girls." Now she was the Pink Ranger, or a version of her. She had special ordered one piece from Etsy, from the same seller that had made the rest of the costume, sans the helmet. So instead the item from the show which was a sort of dress that combined the top and bottom, she bought a Pink Ranger skirt that was actually super cute and she really wanted to wear it around, but wouldn't be able to. Not after today. It was a hundred twenty dollar item that she would hide in the back of her closet, just like she did her old diaries.
"You're a freak Weaver." She told herself as she stood there looking at herself in the mirror, her voice coming out muffled and distorted.
It was bound too because the person in the reflection was wearing not only a helmet but one that incorporated a face mask into it. The designers had hidden air holes, well slits into it, which made it easy to breath inside it but she had recorded herself talking in it, just in case. Her words were understandable but voice changed to unfamiliarity. She found herself rolling her eyes at herself, because she had been turning her head left and right, checking out the silver section of face below the black visor and between the pink chin guards of the helmet. There was no part of her face visible and it had been silly.
Silliness or nerves, either or both they were stopping her from looking elsewhere, because almost everywhere else she was a serious derivation from the Pink Ranger. There was the fact that the Pink Ranger, from ANY of the many iterations of the shows, had never been a chubby girl like Maggie Weaver was. The other major change was she was missing most of the costume. The boots were the same, white vinyl that went up to her knees, pink diamond pattern at the top. There was the belt, white with the gold buckle, a holster at her left hip. Underneath that was the pink skirt like piece, the bottom cut into a very wide V the edge trimmed in white. Between her wrists and elbows was the same as the show too, or a similar looking "bracer" version of the boots. White with pink diamond patterns.
After that though... Things were VERY different. There were no white gloves on her hands, just the pale white of her skin, her short nails each painted a pink to match the costume. That was a minor inconsistency, all the rest were very major. She had nothing on underneath the skirt, no shiny pink pants. Nothing. Nothing as well from the belt all the way to the helmet and her elbows were the bracers were. Naked! She was the porn version of the Pink Ranger, probably not a version many guys would watch being as thickly padded as she was.
She wasn't happy about her belly being visible but the corset she had bought was too cheap and even if hadn't ripped on her, the color was too far off. Giving her tummy a squeeze, a pout, but considering the fact that the girl she was impersonating was the same height and very close to the same weight as her, it wasn't too concerning. Or that was what she insisted on repeating in her head. Even though she had been surprised when she heard Theresa and her weighed nearly the same. The fellow brunette was curvy for sure, but she certainly carried it WAY better than Maggie thought she did. Her breasts being exposed she didn't mind, the fact that they weren't as big as Theresa's seemed to be didn't bother her either. They were big enough! It was the one thing she always found guys staring at on her. Her hips were also wide, her butt bigger, and she had no idea what Theresa's pubic hair situation was like.
That seemed to resonate with her the most. She was shaved, crunching the numbers it was the best option. If Theresa was hairy then it was always an option that she had shaved that morning for Alex. She could tell him so if he said something, "I shaved bright and early, hope you like it." If he didn't say anything than his girlfriend of eight months was shaved, no more worries about that just like anything else. But the worry was if Theresa was hairy, had no hair while Maggie was imitating her, then they messed around again tomorrow and she had hair again. Would Alex say something? I mean it would make him sound crazy that he thought his girlfriend had somehow been hairless. But if he said something, would she believe him, could they piece together that somebody had tricked him?
The only thing she had going for her was the fact that they should never come to the conclusion that of all the people in their lives, it was HER who had done it. And even if they did suspect there would be no proof! As long as she got in (Got it in as she had been dreaming of since she was fourteen!) got out then she was in the clear. All she had to do was get what she wanted, the sex that would finally scratch the itch of her secret fantasy, then get out of his apartment and she would be good. Out the door and across the hall where her clothes and real identity were hidden. Nobody would be coming in there on a Sunday morning to view the place that still needed painting. She could wait in there all day until the coast was clear, then sneak the rest of the way out of the building.
Maggie had no idea why she was going through everything again. She had already come too far to back out now. Had built this all up in her head too much. This was probably her one and only chance at a thing that she desperately needed. All spawning from a bemused comment her mom made several months ago. Chuckling as she mentioned that neither of them should ever tell Alex but that his girlfriend looked a lot like her. Maggie. His sister. Maggie knew what her mom meant, they didn't look alike really. Theresa was pretty (and cheery and friendly) a curvy gal who was built like guys who liked curvy gals always dreamed. Big butt, bigger boobs, and not so big in the middle. But they had the same color hair, the same height, weight, and Alex would never dream of being with her like she dreamed of being with him. Would dump Theresa if told how alike the two looked, this opportunity was too good. That had given her hope, Theresa telling her what she was going to be for Halloween had given her the idea.
Telling her months early had given her time, to plan, and to psych herself up.
Safely in the helmet she turned to the bathroom door, her borrowed clothes laying on the floor along with Theresa's other dirty pajamas, where they would hopefully remain unnoticed. For some reason she tried to open the bathroom door as quietly as possible, before remembering she was "Theresa" now. This was her apartment, feeling bolder in the disguise, in the guise of Theresa she walked out into the place. Her stomach fluttering at the fact that her tits were out, her thighs exposed, and it should have been proof alone that she was a different person, her belly was just there to be seen! And she wasn't holding it, hiding it, or curling up on herself. All things Theresa would not do and Maggie would for sure do.
Trying to control her breathing she walked through the main room; a combo of where they had the TV and couch, their small table and three chairs, and the kitchen. Turning on trembling legs to walk towards the bedroom, she did have to stop, hand against the wall as her strength threatened to leave her. Then she continued on repeating the mantra she had come up with over and over in her head.
"He loves her. He can't keep his hands off her. We're the same weight. We're the same weight." The curvy shy girl transforming into something much different as she got to the end of the hall, catching sight of reflections of herself in the glass of the pictures on the wall. She was not Maggie! She was Theresa! And Theresa was chubby but still got pounded by the beautiful boy in the next room on the right, and this morning she was about to get pounded the same way. "He loves her. He can't keep his hands off her. We're the same weight. We're the same weight."
When she saw Alex was awake she nearly turned the otherway and ran, for some stupid reason. He was sitting there on the bed, blue t-shirt wrinkled but in a way that seemed professionally staged, he looked so handsome! So perfect! Blonde brown hair messy but like he'd ran his fingers through it to wrangle it down a little. That playful smile on his face that had been in her head since she was young, as he watched something funny on his phone. He wasn't The Rock underneath that shirt and the sheet that covered his lower body, but she knew he was still fit. Very fit! In a way that didn't just make her want to just run her hands over his body, but her tongue as well.
"Good god woman!" Seeing her out of the edge of his vision, startled but much to her delight he instantly thought he knew who she was. "I thought you left for work." Instead of retreating she continued her way in, mostly because after his sentence he had noticed the state of her. "Holy fuck I like this."
"Really?" Almost slapping a hand to her forehead (For as little as that would do) because despite the baffling quality of the helmet she had told herself NOT to speak unless she had to.
