Shopping difficulty

Thanks for all the advice, I just got back home and let me tell you, shopping certainly isn't as simple as I remember.

I didn't sleep last night, I don't seem to get tired anymore, so how I managed to miss the train, despite a super-powered run to the train station is still a mystery to me, but I guess being late is one thing that wasn't improved. 

I thought that, if I was going to new wardrobe anyway, I could spare one more old shirt. I wasn't planning on letting that train leave without me, so I reached out, grabbed the side of the train car and braced myself to stop the train. Now, I'm easily strong enough to dig my hands into the metal of the train car, I'm probably even strong enough to lift the car one handed (I should try that sometime), but I missed one small detail.

You see, the train was already going 40 miles an hour, and it weighed hundreds of tones. I was standing still, weighing "only" 242 pounds. Instead of me pulling the train to a stop, it just dragged me off my feet, my hands still firmly grabbing the steel train car. Now, that wasn't the worst problem, the train was rather quickly approaching the pillars for the overhead wires. So, while I was still hanging on, trying to figure out what happened to ground, I slammed into the steel support pillar at about 60 miles per hour. 

The aftermath was a little humiliating. I wasn't hurt of course, but when I got up I noticed two crumpled steel sheets in my hands that had been torn from the train car. After getting up and brushing the dust from my shirt and noticing that it was still somewhat intact, if a bit stretched from my still bulging biceps, I noticed the solid steel pillar. In addition to it leaning almost 45 degrees to a side, there was a rather pretty Amanda-shaped impression in it. My face, breasts and abs had shaped the pillar into an almost perfect negative of me, except where it had been crushed inside my cleavage. 

I looked at it for a second; it reminded me of those old cartoons, before realizing I couldn't leave it like this. Gently grabbing the steel pillar, I bent it up again, smoothing out the hard steel with my other hand. To make things worse, the 'effort' of it caused my arms and back to tear through my already strained shirt. Sighing, I tore some more off, turning it into a crude tie top.

Deciding that, maybe, public transportation wasn't for me, I instead ran to the shopping district. I arrived four minutes later, slapping myself for not doing this in the first place.

Following Benji's and Volupia's advice, I headed for the a lingerie/swimsuit store first. It took some time to figure out my new measurements, but I finally picked out three sets, the most modest one would just fit me, the other two I bought as large as they came, so they would at least stretch a little when I grew. Showing the (rather cute) guy behind the counter how each set looked on me even landed me a nice discount, as he rushed to the bathroom without checking out the last set.

Next I got about a dozen sets of pants, skirts and tops, most of them fit rather well. That is, all of them were tight, showing my stomach, lots of cleavage, pulled tight across my chest and shoulders or thighs, or in the case of the skirts, very short. In other words, they were perfect.

Finally, I decided try for some clothing that would fit when I was fully pumped up. The largest outfits I could find were 5XL, so I got a few and went to the fitting room. I started flexing; doing leg raises with my hands against the walls, one-handed pushups with my legs straight up in the air, anything to get nice and pumped up. For a store with plus-sized clothing, they sure had small fitting rooms, or maybe it was because I was so big, as none of the clothing even fit over my shoulders or calves. Disappointed, I stood perfectly still, waiting for my muscles to shrink enough for me to fit in my old clothes.

My last stop was a special store I always liked, but never entered. They sold leather, latex and PVC clothing. I realized it would look great on my new body and picked up two pairs of super tight, but slightly stretchy latex pants, a few PVC skirts and a crop top (they only had one in my size), together with some stiletto heels. The girl behind the counter couldn't stop staring as I tried each of them on and modeled them in front of the mirror. In fact, it drew quite a crowd of people, all of them gathered at the window, hoping to see what I would try next. I heard a small moan as I came out with my old clothing, now ready for the trash bin after all the pulling on and off. All the people parted meekly as I walked out of the store, smiling widely.