Early in the morning, I dress in the following wardrobe to go with my new satin lined tailored suit:

White Cotton Long Sleeve Buttoned Front Undershirt
White Cotton Buttoned Front Long Johns
Black Wool Calf Length Socks
Black Elasticated Double Sock Suspenders
White Cotton Collarless French Cuffed Shirt
Gold Plated Metal Barrel Chain Cufflinks
Front & Rear Collar Studs
Washable Stiff Wing Collar
Striped Black and Silver Tie
Gold Plated Brass Tie Slide
Charcoal Grey Chalkstripe Wool Trousers with Trouser Cuffs
Black Elasticated Button On Braces
Black Elasticated Shirt Bands
Charcoal Grey Chalkstripe Wool 6 Button 4 Pocket Notch Lapelled Waistcoat.
Gold Plated Brass Double Watch Chain and Mechanical Pocket Watch
Black Lace Up Toe Cap Walking Boots
Charcoal Grey Chalkstripe Wool 4 Button Notch Lapelled Ventless Jacket.
Large White Cotton Handkerchief
Yellow Cotton Flower, Placed In Jacket Lapel Button Hole
Black Fur Felt Steel Ring Reinforced Brim Bowler Hat
Dark Grey Button Stud Leather Gloves

To finish off, a furled silk black umbrella with brass fittings and a wooden crock handle.

After a breakfast consisting of an entire large casserole dish of spaghetti Bolognese with extra onions, garlic and parmesan cheese to go with a large glass of whole milk, a pot of tea, and an apple, I then go to work during a warm, cloudy and humid summer's day:

I start with chopping wood. My clothes get saturated with sweat, soaking through the many layers of fabric, staining the white cotton and satin lining as it goes. Sweat stains then grow under the arms of my jacket and down its back, also showing along all the seams of my suit. My muscles begin to harden underneath my clothes, making my suit begin to feel tight and confining as I work.

When I have finished with my task, I look at the resultant wood dust covering my fine clothes and strewn around me in the already very dusty yard. Feeling so hot, sweaty and dirty, I drop to my knees in the dust before rolling around in it all for a while, rubbing it deep into the fabric of my clothes as I go, enjoying the feel of sweaty fabric rubbing against the hard muscles underneath, just to get thoroughly dirty.

Afterwards, as I proceed to work on the steam engine in the machinery yard, a light warm drizzle starts. With work to do, I don't bother getting the umbrella which I had put aside earlier. As the light rain soaks through the layers of my attire, my clothes start to shrink around my body, while also making the dirt stains permanent.

Some of the dirty machine parts are really heavy, requiring a great deal of effort to move. As the seams of my suit start to groan in protest with the effort involved in moving them, my muscles harden some more. Other machine parts I need are buried under other larger parts, many of which have sharp edges, also covered in dirty oil. I have to crawl under them along the increasingly muddy and oily floor to get at them. With several places being a tight squeeze to get through, the sharp edges of the machinery inevitably catches on my suit.

Little snags and tears appear all over, though the woollen fabric of my suit is too thick for most of the snags and tears to show. The exceptions are with the seams and cloth around the pockets and lapels of my suit being partially ripped open after snagging on machine parts. Also the knees and elbows, of my suit become threadbare and holed as I crawl through it all.

While working on the steam engine, I use my handkerchief and the hem of my suit jacket to clean and wipe various machine parts, sat on the floor with the back of my jacket resting against filthy machine parts. Afterwards, I place the oily, worn and torn handkerchief back in my breast pocket.

My formerly well shined boots have become heavily scuffed and dirty, especially around the toe caps. My gentleman's gloves have also gotten similarly worn. The occasional puddle of oil and mud as I crawled has ruined the leather further. My bowler has also become dirty, worn and dented. I try to knock out the dents though there are dirt marks where the dents still show.

My clothes from top to toe have gotten permanently stained in mud and oil, the oil and mud having worked through all the layers of my clothes, while also saturating and weakened the seams of my attire. My suit, though intact, has become distinctly shabby and very dirty. The cuffs of my shirt, jacket and trousers have become heavily stained, worn and frayed.

The wool of my suit has also shrunk around my increasingly muscular frame, now hugging the contours of my body where they once draped to tailored perfection. Along with my waistcoat, my shirt has tightened around my expanding chest, the buttons starting to strain against my growing muscles. My now filthy stiff collar has also started to pop open against my thickening neck. Being still a gentleman, between efforts, I refasten it afterwards.

Once an outfit a banker would wear to work, they have now become a real working man's clothes. Well worn, sweaty and dirty, permanently stained with sweat, oil and mud.

The ruined expensive fabrics feel so good, yet so tight and confining, rubbing against my dirty, sweaty body. Feeling the need to grow, I finally unbutton my trouser fly, reach in past the opening of my long johns, extract my engorging member and start to massage it. As my wing collar pops open once more, this time I find myself not caring as a surge of orgasmic growth starts to take me.

My flexing muscles then start to grow in earnest. My clothes tighten further around me, the seams of my suit groaning louder and louder in protest, buttons straining everywhere. The cuffs of my trousers start to ride up my ankles, exposing my woollen socks, with my boots tightening against my growing feet. My waistcoat also starts to move up my torso, exposing my straining button on braces. The sleeves of my shirt and jacket begin to ride up my forearms.

The threads along the seams of the upper arms of my sleeves, under my arm pits and the back of my jacket are the first to give way as they start to pop, the snags and tears around my suit then start to grow.

Ripping sounds emerge behind me as the back of my waistcoat and shirt, having already frayed while rubbing against my braces, tear open completely. The back seam of my jacket shortly follows, tearing wide open. The sleeves of my upper arms, unable to contain my growing biceps, also rip open. My growing forearms then bursts through the cufflink chains holding my ragged French cuffed shirt sleeves together, closely followed by the working cuff buttons of my jacket sleeves, while the now exposed black elasticated armbands, strained to their limits, snap audibly. My tie snaps around my neck, still holding on by the tie slide attached to my shirt. Waistcoat buttons then start to pop off my expanding chest, closely followed by my upper shirt buttons.

As my calves burst open my sock suspenders, my growing feet, already stretching the leather, also snaps my boot laces. The worn out cuffs of my trousers, no longer able to contain my calves then start to rip open at the bottoms, mainly along the seams. The worn holes around my knees and elbows also grow rapidly.

The inner thighs of my trousers bursts open along the seams, tearing upward towards my crotch. The back seam of my trousers then bursts open while rips and tears along the length of my legs continue to grow.

My expanding shoulders then bursts through all the seams of my undershirt, shirt and jacket while my sleeves continue to shred, exposing the skin of my rock hard muscles. The front of my waistcoat and shirt loses the last of their buttons, held together now only by my straining watch chain. The front of my exposed undershirt, the buttons at the top having already popped off then rips down the front as the watch chain finally snaps.

Having already popped the studs of my worn out gentleman's gloves, the leather around the tops of the fingers, having been stretched to breaking point, subsequently blows out. The seams of the gloves rips open shortly afterwards as my hands continue to grow.

My boots then split open at the back, sides and front, the leather soles and rubber heels giving away, my toes showing as they rip out of the front of my woollen socks. Then the rest of the seams of my straining boots finally burst open as my growing feet continue to tear out of the rest of my boots and socks.

The buttons of my braces rip away from the band of my trousers followed by the buttons still holding the waistband of my trousers together bursting free from my expanding muscular torso.

With my growing testes, having long since ripped their way out of the confines of my trousers and long johns, and my member now huge and rock hard, it isn't long before I finally climax. Huge quantities of hot steaming semen are released to splatter over my clothes and body for several minutes until I'm thoroughly spent.

The previously accumulated small rips and tears along the seams and cloth of my clothes have now all ripped wide open. My once smart formal attire has been reduced to shredded dirty rags, utterly soaked with my semen, barely covering my now hugely muscular frame.

I eventually get up, with but a few shreds of filthy fabric still vainly hanging on to my hulking dirty sweaty body, the only other item of clothing left on me being the remains of my busted bowler hat. It is only now I reach for the umbrella before going for a walk in the cool of the nearby woods virtually naked.