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Magic Milk


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You've got me guessing on so many levels!

I hesitate to make any predictions lest I jynx it.  I wonder if... nope, not even that.  Hmmm...  I guess the only safe comment I dare make is if her drinking the milk only needs to be a one-time affair, or if she will drink more. 

A fun image came to mind of Melanie figuring out the cause, and avoiding the milk.  Perhaps even dumping it down the drain.  Then later, Ben surprises her with some hot fresh pancakes.  After savoring them she gets a familiar sensation.  Asking her hubby about the pancakes, he says; "Aww it was nothing.  I just threw some mix together with some eggs, added in a little vanilla, and mixed in that milk in the fridge... "  Melanie rushes to the refrigerator in a panic and opens the door.  And lo and behold.  There is the milk back again!

PS  Ok, I can't help myself.  I wonder if one of those missed calls was from Sarah?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited by greinskyn
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3 hours ago, greinskyn said:

You've got me guessing on so many levels!

I hesitate to make any predictions lest I jynx it.  I wonder if... nope, not even that.  Hmmm...  I guess the only safe comment I dare make is if her drinking the milk only needs to be a one-time affair, or if she will drink more

 

Welol, have I got good news for you! You’re WAY off the mark — what I have in mind is much more epic! The bad news is... I keep missing my one-chapter-a-day objective. I’ve been volunteering with some election campaigns until I go to China. Also, the DNC debate in Cegas was fire 🔥 

cats eat GIF

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I love her being clueless initially.  It is easy to justify as Melanie doesn't struggle with her weight.  She's just not familiar with failure.  It will be fun to see how she faces her struggles.  That for me can be the real fun... especially with magic, as we know the futilty of the fight in the end.  Hopefully, even if there are mental changes Mel puts up a good fight.

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Heyyy, guess what? We're in the climax of the story! That's right! Melanie is going to get HUGE! Don't believe me? Just read this chapter then:

Chapter Six

Alright, here you are,” the teenage waiter with the mole on his neck approached our table with two small plates in his hands. “Chocolate cheesecake. One for you… and one for you.”

               My breath stiffened at the sight of the decadent delicacy placed before me. The slice of cheesecake was so thin and slender, invitingly soft and colourful, and yet I knew that it was packed with fat and sugar calories. Staring at the entrancing swirls of syrup and chocolate on its top, I absentmindedly wondered if there was any food as quite as… dangerous.

               “You know what you’d like to order?” the waiter leaned an inch closer to us, drawing-out his notepad.

               “We’re ready,” Jerry grinned from behind his menu. “I’d like an eight ounce steak.”

               “How would you like it? Rare, medium, or…”

               “Medium rare,” Jerry nodded, satisfied. “Oh, and also a coke.”

               “Gotcha…” the waiter scribbled quickly. “And how about you, ma’am?”

               I swallowed slowly, staring at my own menu options. I had decided on getting the grilled oriental chicken salad… I should get the grilled oriental chicken salad… but the steady rumble I could feel in my stomach reminded me how I had skipped lunch, having decided to help Sarah restock shelves instead. The sandwich section looked inviting – particularly a picture of a mouth-watering bacon-cheddar grilled chicken sandwich with a side of fries. Fuck it. I could treat myself. This was a special day.

               “I’ll have this…” I pointed discreetly at the picture as I angled the menu in the waiter’s direction. Why was I being so secretive? It’s not like anyone would think less of me.

               “The bacon-cheddar grilled chicken sandwich?” the waiter blurted cluelessly. “Got it… and the side of fries as well?”

               I sighed quietly, closing my eyes briefly before opening them again with a smile. “Yes. That would be good.”

               “What drink would you like?”

               “Coke,” I replied instinctively, feeling my bowels rumble with surprising force.

               “Alright… is there anything else?”

               “That should do it,” Jerry nodded.

               As the waiter shuffled away, I noticed that Jerry was eyeballing me with approval.

               “You think you’ll be able to eat it all?” he asked coyly.

               I shrugged as I plucked my dessert spoon from the table. “I just happened to skip lunch today, so I’m extra hungry.”

               “Well, like I said, if you have trouble finishing it, let me eat it. Deal?”

               I chuckled in spite of myself. “We’ll see.”

               With that, I tucked my spoon into the nearest corner of my chocolate cheesecake and took a bite. It was good. Really good. No, that was an understatement – it was amazing! It was like an explosion of sugary-goodness had hit me. It was so flavourful that I could feel a wave of pleasure flash over my skin in an instant – or was that only my imagination? Was it possible to make something taste so good?

               “Mm,” I mumbled quietly as I dunked my spoon for a larger bite. “This is pretty good.”

               “It’s alright,” Jerry shrugged. “I was going to get the strawberry one, but I wanted to try chocolate because I had a hunch it would taste better?”

               “You mean you don’t like it?” I gave him a look.

               “It’s alright,” he shrugged again. “I just think this one has a little more dairy in it than I’m used to…”

               My nipples stiffened suddenly as he mentioned the word “dairy.” Like puckered-lips, they pressed sensitively against the tight embrace of my sports bra. It was annoyingly distracting – almost enough to make me stop chewing cheesecake, but hey, it was my fault that I decided to wear a sports bra. I was just gonna have to live with the consequences.

               “I like it,” I smiled. “A lot. By the way, how was work today? Still understaffed?”

               “For sure,” Jerry replied. “I had to beg my manager to come out here…”

               “Oh!” I jumped as my phone buzzed in my back pocket, making my cheeks twitch instinctively.

               “Huh? What’s up?”

               “Nothing,” I sighed as I pulled my phone out. “It’s just… ugh!

               “What?”

               “Sarah’s asking me how to close shop,” I huffed as I read the text message. “She’s like: ‘what do I do when I’m done counting bills from the cash register?’ Really? She needs help with that? Now?”

               “How does she not know that?” Jerry asked.

               “I guess because she’s never closed shop before?” I shook my head. “Whatever. I’m putting this phone in the corner so it doesn’t distract me from eating.”

               Jerry laughed. “Yeah, she’ll figure it out. Heaven forbid she interrupt our dinner.”

               “For real, though,” I leaned into my cheesecake, eating another bite. “Especially when this cheesecake tastes so good. I know… I’m being such a fatass…”

               The throbbing in my ass intensified. The throbbing had been happening for a while, but with so much going on, I had forgotten it the same way you forget you’re breathing – but now there was no escaping the fact that it was throbbing, beating like your legs do after sitting on the toilet for too long. Was that what it was? Was I sitting in a way that had cut the bloodflow to my cheeks? My cheeks felt warm, even as I tried to ignore them.

               “Anyway,” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, trying to shift my lower body so that my jeans would fit. “You mentioned work?”

               “Oh yeah,” he shook his head. “We’ve been trying to find a new assistant manager for, like, forever. Ever since Tom quit last month…”

               My jeans weren’t fitting. If I were alone, I’d just stand up and shimmy myself back into them, but I was on a non-date with Jerry in a public area. The best I could do was adjust myself in my seat and hope that I could fix the problem that way. Even as I discreetly shifted my weight left and right, I could tell that it wasn’t going to work. In fact, the more I twisted my hips, the more I felt like I was wedging myself tighter into a position I wasn’t supposed to be in.

               Was my butt… bigger?

               The thought made me stiffen in my seat as I listened to Jerry talk. My butt felt big. I felt like a fatass. Maybe that was because I had accidentally wedged myself into my own jeans. Yeah. I’d wedgied my panties into myself. That was it. It was a pretty weird feeling, but I could handle it. I was on the cusp of gaining an assistant manager position in Jerry’s store. I could feel it. All I had to do was play cool and keep my cards close – for five more minutes.

               And then my cell phone buzzed against the table. This time it kept going, which meant it was a call and not a text.

               “Damn,” Jerry chuckled. “Who’s that? Sarah?”

               “Nope,” I leaned over my phone, uncomfortably aware of how tight my jeans felt against my ass. “It’s my hus – it’s my roommate.”

               “You’re what?” Jerry made a cute face. “Who was it?”

               “My roommate probably wants me to buy Budweiser again,” I shrugged. “She’s my hubby, you know?”

               “Yeah, I get it.”

               “That vibrating is annoying,” I noted as my phone buzzed against the table. “You know what? I’m taking it back,” and with that, I grabbed the phone and dropped it between my legs. I didn’t pocket my phone because I didn’t feel like struggling to shove it in. Not while Jerry was looking at me.

               “I notice that you aren’t eating the cheesecake as fast,” Jerry smirked.

               “Don’t get me wrong,” I began shovelling the delicious dessert into my mouth again. “It’s super good…” I paused to chew on a large piece, rolling the soft substance between my teeth as I looked in the distance for words that could describe what I was feeling. “Really good. I dunno why you think I’m not gonna finish it…”

               As I was explaining my own gluttony, I felt my stomach continue to churn. This was unusual because I was already eating. A growling stomach was supposed to mean that you were empty! Yet here I was, finishing-up my cheesecake and feeling hungrier than ever. It wasn’t unheard of, though – you often don’t realize how hungry you are until you start eating – so I went ahead and shoved that last bite of cheesecake into my mouth. What did I eat yesterday? Maybe I was just making-up for lost calories. That would explain why I was so hungry.

               As I thought this, I felt a heavy pop in my belly – just below my naval.

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This is gonna be a loooonnnng climax. Like, one or two more chapters 👌

Chapter Seven

               The pop sensation was mildly surprising. It was enough to make me raise my eyebrows just a tad as I chewed my last bite of exquisite cheesecake. Did something in my lower stomach really just pop, or did I just imagine it? Was it gas? I didn’t feel gassy. If anything, my lower stomach felt pretty relaxed – even more relaxed than usual.

               “Good idea, right?” Jerry asked as he finished his own slice. “Sometimes it’s worth having desserts first.”

               “Mm,” I smiled, swallowing the last of the cheesecake. “Yes. I’ll give you that one.”

               Another pop. This one hit just above my navel. The force of it made me flinch slightly, and I put a gentle hand over my stomach. Just what was that feeling? Bloating? It was hard to tell through my flannel shirt and cotton tank top, but everything my hand touched felt smooth and warm… maybe too smooth. Where were my lower abs? Was my stomach always like this whenever I sat down?

               I shook my head. “But I shouldn’t make a habit out of this. Gotta watch my figure…”

               Then I felt another pop. This time, my hand was already over my stomach. I could’ve sworn I felt my skin move – except “move” wasn’t even close to describing what I felt. It was as if the skin on my upper abs had… detached from the muscles they covered, unhinging from the coiled fibres as they floated freely just in front of them. My whole stomach felt so warm and relaxed, as if I had binged a pot of hot tea rather than a thin slice of cheesecake. Was this what a sugar high felt like? It had been awhile since I’d eaten today. That cheesecake was all that was in there.

               “You don’t need to watch your figure,” Jerry replied smoothly.

               “I guess not,” I shrugged. “Not yet, anyway.”

               “I could watch it for you.”

               My eyes flared with shock, but not because of his bold one-liner, but because when I dared to loosen the grip my abs had on my waistline, I felt a wave of fat roll over my belt. What in the hell was this? I could see my stomach trying to curve over my jeans. It was as if I’d finished a Thanksgiving Dinner! This was serious bloating. Was I allergic to something I ate? Lactose intolerant?

               This couldn’t be happening to me. I needed this promotion, so I took a slow, deep breath, sucked my stomach back in, and gave Jerry a coy look.

               “Pretty brave words you said just now,” I smirked. “Not many boys would dare talk about a girl’s weight.”

               “I’m no boy,” he smirked. “I’m a man.”

               “Okay, that was a Dad-joke.”

               Before he could make a witty reply, the waiter returned with our steaming plates of food.

               “One eight-ounce steak…” he leaned down, placing the plate on the table.

               “That’s mine,” Jerry grabbed the plate happily.

               “And your sandwich ma’am.”

               “Whoa…” as I stared at the gigantic serving of food being placed before me, my nostrils flared with the overwhelming smell of delicious, steaming food. I breathed the fumes deep into my lungs, feeling my chest swell against my blouse. I could’ve sworn my tits had grown another couple handfuls, but that was just crazy. My pants were tight, my stomach was bloated, and – damnit – it just made sense that my tits would also feel big.

               “Is everything alright?” the waiter asked.

               “Oh… yes!” I beamed forcefully. “It’s just… a lot more big of a serving than I thought.”

               “I can help you eat it,” Jerry replied quickly.

               “It’s fine,” I shook my head. “I can handle it.”

               “If you need takehome carriers, let me know,” the waiter turned to leave. “I’ll be back later.”

               Sighing with a mixture of exasperation from the last, few, inexplicable events and relief that my food was ready to be eaten, I smiled down at my plate and daintily plucked the uppermost French fry from the pile.

               “So,” I took the French fry to my lips for a bite. “I heard you were looking for a new assistant manager.”

               “Yeah,” Jerry mumbled between mouthfuls of steak as he continued to carve more bites.

               “Well then,” I replied after swallowing the first fry. “I have an idea – ooh!”

               “What’s wrong?”

               “Nothing,” I squeaked as I stared down at my thighs. “Just dropped a fry or something.

               But that was a lie. As I had been talking, my thighs had been pinched. Pinched by the denim fabric of my own jeans right in the inner thighs where it hurt the most! I gaped down at them in disbelief, awestruck with the sight of every crease in my jeans mysteriously vanished – and what the hell was this? My thighs were not this big! They couldn’t be, but I could see inner-thigh flesh resting softly over my seat.

               In vain, I tried to adjust myself in my seat, desperately hoping that somehow I would be able to loosen myself from my jeans’ tight embrace, that what I was feeling wasn’t what I thought it was.

               Struggling against a slowly-mounting sense of alarm, I took a deep breath and smiled at Jerry. There was just no way. It was impossible! People don’t… grow like this. I wasn’t… I couldn’t… I wasn’t getting fat!

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5 hours ago, greinskyn said:

 THIS is amazing.  The sensations, the dawning awareness on her part... mix so well with her careful plans going up in smoke!  You have us all primed for her journey.   I for one can't wait to see how Mel reacts to her new figure.  It certainly will make dressing and shopping more interesting.

Things are about to get dicey 😬

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The transformation continues 😉

Chapter Eight

               Fat… that’s what I felt like with my ass and thighs filling my jeans, with my tits constantly pressing  against my tight sports bra with every breath, with my… gut threatening to bulge over my belt. I felt fat – but that was impossible! I was in peak physical condition. I went to the gym three days a week, I weighed 124 pounds… damn it, I did yoga! Fat girls don’t do yoga, do they? No! They don’t!

               It had to be an allergic reaction. I mean, allergic reactions can make your skin swell a little, right? I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves as I tested myself for shortness of breath. Right. I could still breathe, which meant this allergic reaction wasn’t so bad. I could still do this. No one had noticed that I was a little bigger, so it must not look as bad as it felt. I was wearing a tight blouse and jeans combo, after all.

               “So,” I put on a smile, ignoring the pinch of my inner thighs against the seams of my designer jeans. “I was just thinking that I would be a good fit for your assistant manager vacancy.”

               “Really?” Jerry’s eyes lit-up, no doubt thinking of the possibility of flirting with me at work every day. “What makes you say that?”

               “Well, if you think about it…” I shrugged as I plucked another French fry up. “The thing human resources looks for the most is experience, and you know I’ve worked in the same chain store as you for awhile, so…” I bit the tip of the fry while making eye-contact, doing my best to look cute.

               “Girl,” Jerry’s mouth hung open. “That is brilliant! I could write-up a recommendation letter for you…”

               “…and we’d be working together,” I chewed thoughtfully.

               “Yes! Mel, I love this idea. It’s an awesome idea.”

               “It is?” I asked innocently, plucking another fry and eating it.

               “Uh, yeah?” Jerry was obviously astounded that I “didn’t know” how good of an idea it was. “Only one snag though: since you’re already employed, we’d need permission from your manager to go ahead with it…”

               My thighs twitched as my cell phone buzzed between them –again.

               “Ugh!” I rolled my eyes as I reached down to retrieve the vibrating object.

               “What is it? Who’s calling now?”

               “Oh no,” I groaned as I stared at the screen. “It’s Amber.”

               “What’s she want?”

               I didn’t answer as I read the text. Melanie, it read. Sarah just texted me about how to close the store. She says she’s tried texting you and you aren’t picking-up. What is she doing alone in the store?? I thought you said you’d be closing today???

               I rolled my eyes, sharing a look with Jerry. “It’s work-related. Who texts their employees after work?”

               “Right?” Jerry grinned.

               “I’m just gonna text her… ‘there was a schedule conflict; had to take care of some business…’”

               “Nice!” Jerry laughed.

               “And… sent,” I put my phone back into its place between my thighs, crossed my arms, and leaned into the table. “Now then… let’s get back to – what did we call it?”

               “Business,” Jerry smirked as he nodded his head slowly.

               “Yes,” my eyes narrowed. “B—”

               A deep rumbling from the centre of my body interrupted me. It was louder than the tummy growls from before; this one was so loud that I worried that Jerry might have heard it. I could feel it too: a light quivering in my left thigh that traced itself up past my hip towards my waist, leaving a sensation of tightness in its wake.

               “Ooh…” I straightened in my seat, staring down at myself. “What is – ah!”

               “What was that noise?” Jerry asked. “Are you alright?”

               As I watched, a plush wave of softness rolled-up my right hip and popped over the side of my pants as a new love-handle. I gaped in disbelief at the new flesh, its bulge just barely hidden under my tucked-in shirt, but embarrassingly sensitive.

               “I’m okay,” I winced with bated breath. “I’m just feeling a little… oh no, not again!”

               Not my other thigh! My jeans were skin-tight as it was! But even as I groaned at the ceiling, I felt the wave of plushness wash other my other hip, just as it had before, and just as before, a budding love-handle popped out, resting snugly over my belt.

               “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”

               “Oh God,” I gasped, bracing myself between the table and my own seat. “I think… I think I need to go to the ladies room real quick…”

               “Need help? You look a little flushed.”

               Wait a minute. I couldn’t run away. I couldn’t! If I stood-up, Jerry would see my… no, I couldn’t even bear to think of him seeing how fat my… oh my God, this was the worst allergic reaction I’d ever had! Damn it all! This day was going so well! How could my body betray me like this? How could this get any worse?

               “Hey,” Jerry looked over my shoulder. “Is that Amber?”

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1 hour ago, Batman76 said:

Oh you fucking tease. You used the collector clip and everything.

I found that clip on a high school computer when I was fifteen 👌I had to discreetly tilt the screen and keep the YouTube window small for maximum sneakiness. When I found it, it made my whole body shiver! Who knew that it would inspire a short story?

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At this point, it's a wonder just how big she's going to get 😆

Chapter Nine

               Like a startled cat, I flashed a look over my shoulder towards the lobby. What I saw made my eyes flash with a dangerous mixture of alarm and disbelief.

               “Oh God…” I winced as I felt the skin on my side fold over itself as I twisted around. “It is Amber! What the hell is my boss doing here?”

               “It’s a small town,” Jerry offered helpfully. “Where else is she gonna eat? Taco Bell?”

               “Is that… is she with Adam?

               “Ooh, she’s dating Adam?” I could hear Jerry trying to lean over my shoulder to get a better look. “Adam owns the strip-mall you work in, right?”

               That… bitch! I ground my teeth together as I did my best to ignore the low growls rumbling within me. That bitch wanted me to cover for her so she could date Adam? Amber was a gold digger? Not that I was any better – except I was! Yes… I wasn’t gold digging, per se. I wasn’t trying to marry money. No, I was getting myself a job – to get away from her! But if she saw me here, I could lose everything…

               “Jerry,” I turned my attention back to my non-date, splaying my fingers across the table’s edge as I stared him down. “Amber can not see us together.”

               “Okay?” he made a face, moving to cut another bite of steak for himself.

               “I’m serious,” I leaned forward, lowering my voice to a low hiss. “I just texted her. She thinks I’m doing business.”

               “So?” he spoke through a mouthful of meat. “You finished work already. I don’t –”

               “She thought I was going to close the shop.”

               Jerry stopped chewing. “Oh…”

               “Quick!” I shuffled my hips as I moved out from my seat. “We need to switch places. Real quick…”

               “What? No, that’ll mean you’re facing her –”

               “I’ll hide myself behind you –”

               “But –”

               “Don’t talk. There’s no time –”

               “She’s coming.”

               Fuck. I was already out of my seat, squatting my way discreetly towards Jerry’s side of the table. My ass was sticking-out in Amber’s direction. Fuck! I could feel my rear seam straining against my swollen cheeks. My belt was bending down towards my crack, trying to contain my hips. Fuck! She couldn’t see me like this!

               “Melanie?”

               Fuck.

               Melanie?

               Amber came sidestepping into my field of vision, tugging her sugar daddy by the hand as her eyes darted from my ass to my eyes.

               What are you doing here?” her eyes were wide with fury (Adam, for his part, looked as clueless as Jerry did).

               “Me?” I stood up, tugging my flannel blouse down in an attempt to hide my swollen belly beneath its folds and wrinkles. “What are you doing here? Is this why you’ve been leaving the shop so much? To –”

               “I should ask you the same?” Amber let go of Adam so she could put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing with Jerry here?”

               “Hey,” Jerry waved happily from his seat.

               “I told you…” I balled my fists, doing my best to balance breathing with sucking my stomach in. “… I’m taking care of business.”

               “Oh, is that right?” Amber bobbed her head. “Does your husband know about this monkey-business of yours?”

               “Wait, what?” Jerry glanced at me.

               I ignored his attention – as well as the ominous rumbling beginning to build within my belly. “Yes,” I forced a smile. “Yes he does.”

               “You’re married?” Jerry asked.

               “Is that a problem?” I snapped.

               “Yes!”

               And then the god-damned waiter came back. “Is everything alright?” When he spotted Amber, his mouth popped open. “Amber? Babe?”

               It was Amber’s turn to cringe. “Hello…”

               “Who’s this? Is he your dad?”

               “It’s over between us. I’m moving on.”

               “What? You’re dumping me?”

               “Man,” Jerry shook his head. “This is too much drama for me. Excuse me while I eat this steak…”

               My belly rumbled louder, my skin vibrating with the force of whatever was bubbling within.

               “Oh God…” I groaned as I backed myself against the wall. Sucking-in was starting to get really hard!

               Amber, Adam, Jerry, and the stupid waiter all paused their argument to look at me.

               “What?” Amber asked. “What’s your problem?”

               “Don’t look at me…” I grit my teeth, struggling to breathe. “Don’t… ugh!”

               Like a reverse diarrhoea attack, I lost control of my bowels. My abs lost the fight to contain my own girth, and released a roll of fat that bulged against my shirt for all to see. It was bigger now, joining itself to my love-handles and wrapping around my back. My face chilled with cold sweat as I continued to struggle breathing.

               “Wow,” Amber raised an eyebrow. “Did your waist-trainer just pop? I had no idea your were this fat. So much for yoga…”

               “S-shut up you… you fucking whore…”

               “Whoa!” Jerry held his hands up. “Language!”

               You shut up!” I snarled at him. “Can’t you… can’t you see that I’m…?”

               “Fat?” Amber suggested. “I think we can all see it now.”

               Out of nowhere, a deep belch escaped my lips, even as I gasped for breath. My hands instinctively went to my belly. The strange feeling of soft skin bulging a couple inches over my jeans made my fingers flinch. My abs were gone. How could they be gone? This fat couldn’t all be me…

               Fat. My lips trembled as it dawned on me. The softness my hands were cradling through the fabric of my blouse wasn’t gas or swelling. It was fat. Oh god… oh my god! My body was transforming! It was growing! I was turning into a fat bitch!

               This couldn’t be real! It had to be a dream! It’s impossible to get fat like this! I wasn’t in some strong-female-lead-Nutty-Professor-reboot! That movie was weird! No! This couldn’t be happening!

               The building pressure in my chest begged to differ. As I continued to hyperventilate, my sports bra had continued to feel tighter and tighter. It was obvious now: my boobs were trying and failing to break free of the elastic fabric containing them. They were designed to prevent any bounce and jiggle in the name of fitness and exercise, and that’s exactly what they’d been doing since I started growing fatter. But now I had a choice: did I want to keep wearing this thing, or did I want to breathe? I sure as hell wasn’t going to strip in Applebees.

               “Fuck you…” I huffed. “Fuck all of you! I’m out of here…”

               With that, I stormed past Amber, shoving the waiter out of my way as I made my way towards the emergency exit.

               “Hey!” Jerry called. “Don’t forget to pay your half of the bill! You owe me on Vinmo!”

               “Melanie!” Amber called. “Get your fat ass back here! Now!”

               But my fat ass was already on its way through the emergency exit, ignoring the alarm as my belly jiggled against my belt with every heavy, angry step.

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2 hours ago, greinskyn said:

Great imagery as always.  Melanie's plans evaporating along with the fit of her clothes is very enticing... especially with the added humiliation with Amber.  Thanks for sharing!

One or two more chapters 

star wars GIF by Johanna Kenney

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  • 2 weeks later...

Okay! One more chapter should do it! 🤰

Chapter Ten

               It wasn’t until I reached my car door that I really started to panic. Now that I was away from everyone, there was no real reason to maintain my composure, and all my stress started coming out at once.

               “Come on…” I huffed as my boobs heaved my sports bra to its limit. “Come on!”

               I was desperately trying to shove my fingers into my jeans’ front pocket to fish-out my car keys. My favourite pair of jeans had fit me perfectly only minutes ago, but now the denim fabric strapped itself tightly against my skin, hugging every added inch of my thighs and digging into the flesh of my cheeks. Hell, even my pussy was starting to feel pinched. It was a miracle that I could get two fingers in my pocket at all, but I managed to wriggle them deep enough to pluck the keys’ keychain and pull them out. They were so tightly wedged into my pocket that the pocket’s lining went inside-out as I shook the keys free, and my spare chapstick fell onto the street. Not that I cared, though. Fuck the chapstick – fuck everything! All that mattered was getting as far away from Applebees as possible.

               And then what? The ER? Urgent and primary care? A nutritionist? Who the fuck cared? I had to go!

               “Ha!” I said triumphantly as I unlocked the door and squeezed into the driver’s seat. It was time to hit the road –

               Something popped on the front of my jeans as I bounced into the seat. With a startled yelp, I glanced down. Did I just lose a button? Did my fly pop open? No… it was just the sound of my jeans’ front button clinking past my belt buckle as it pushed past. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! Fat was starting to bulge under my beltline, pressing my jeans outward. God! Was a fat belly not bad enough?

               “Hoo…” I did my best to slow my breathing. “Okay… I need to breathe…” I stared down my blouse, mentally readying myself for what I was about to do.

               “Okay, time to…” I fumbled my fingers against the buttons over my suspiciously swollen chest. “… come on… need to… breathe…!

               With mounting panic, I parted either end of my blouse just enough to frantically dig my fingers into the upper-hem of my sports bra and forcefully shove it down to reveal what was honestly a terrifying amount of cleavage. It was inches of smooth, white globes of titty-fat pressed tightly against each other – and then they popped free. I gasped as much for air as I did with surprise at the sight of the melon-sized orbs pressing against the fabric of my blouse. At last, I could breathe deeply, and it made them jiggle sensitively against each other.

               “Melanie!”

               Oh great. I could see my boss stomping her way towards me in the rearview mirror.

               “Melanie! Don’t you dare start that car! We are not done here!”

               The sound of her nagging voice alone was enough to get me to shove the key into the ignition and rev the engine in parking gear. Unfortunately, Amber was still coming.

               “Melanie!”

               I considered reversing the car into her – I really did – but the boy-waiter had just left the building and was running after Amber. No doubt those two had a long, awkward conversation with each other to look forward to, so for their sake, I shifted into drive and sent the car careening over the curb, a small bush, a bit of sidewalk, and onto the main road.

               “Ooh!” I winced as the car rocked back and forth, making every added pound jiggle on my body. “I need to…”

               An embarrassingly deep belch escaped my lips, and I felt my belly press harder against my belt and jeans. It was starting to feel like I was getting a front-ended wedgie to match the one I felt behind me too…

               A truck blared its horn at me as I swerved into the middle lane.

               “Oh, fuck you too!” I yelled, though I didn’t mean it. “Fuck my life! This can’t be happening to me!”

               My phone rang. This time, I was in the car, so the Bluetooth kicked-in and put the call on the car’s speakers. It was my husband again.

               This better be good, I thought as I pressed the answer button.

               Honey! Babe! Where are you!?”

               “Ben, this isn’t a good time right now!” I yelled into the windshield as I gripped my steering while for dear life.

               “I need you to come home!”

               “Ben, I’m getting – I’m having an emergency! I’m going to the hospital!”

               “No! Do not go to the hospital!”

               “I’m going to the hospital!” I yelled, even though I was driving the wrong way to get there.

               “They won’t be able to help you! I know how to fix it!”

               “What!?”

               I said I know how to fix it!”

               “What do you mean you know how to fix it!?” I raved as I turned without signalling. “Did you do this to me!?”

               “You drank the milk, didn’t you?”

               “Milk? The fuck are you talking about?” even as I said it, I suddenly remembered the lone glass of milk in the fridge from the night before.

               “Just get home as fast as you can, okay?”

 

               Ten minutes later, I stomped on the brakes in front of our house and pulled the keys out of the ignition. Already, I was scrambling to undo the seatbelt that was beginning to rub uncomfortably between my breasts, which had only swelled bigger during the road trip. They were almost the size of my head now, and the sports bra scrunched underneath them only served to boost them forwards, making them look even more massive.

               As I stepped out of the car, my shirt came untucked as my muffintop struggled to roll over my belt. I didn’t bother tucking it back in, what mattered was getting through the front door before the neighbours saw me.

               “Ben?” I rattled the door handle as I struggled with the keychain again. “Ben! Open the door!” Why would he lock the door if he knew I was coming?

               When I heard the lock unhinge, I stormed inside and slammed the door as quickly as possible. My race to the house had ended, and I didn’t have to worry about being seen and mocked by strangers and assholes anymore. All the tension left my body at once, and I slumped my bulk against the door, wincing as I felt my heavily-padded ass squish against its wooden surface.

               Fuck. I was chubby now. Everything was starting to bulge out of my clothes. What would Ben say when he saw me like this? The thought seemed to trigger the fat in my upper-arms, which plumped themselves within my sleeves until they felt snug. I was honestly just relieved that it wasn’t a double-chin that sprouted next.

               “Mel?” Ben called from the living room. “Is that you?”

               “Of course it is!” I pushed myself off the door and stormed towards his voice. “Who else would it –”

               I stopped walking when I saw my husband sitting on the living room couch. There was another woman next to him! My husband! Alone in the house with another woman – and a curvaceous, scantily-clad one at that. What the hell was she wearing over her hips? She looked like some kind of Influencer resting between photo-ops in Bali!

               “Who… is this?” I pointed at my new rival, all thoughts of how to explain that I was fat vanishing beneath a haze of rage.

               Ben took a deep breath, averting his gaze from me. “This… is Phil.”

               What!?” I shook so much with shock and anger that my tits started shivering against each other. “You mean the idiot at work you keep complaining about?”

               “Except… no, I don’t complain about –” Ben’s gaze darted towards the woman, who merely smiled and shrugged.

               “What the fuck is going on?”

               “Okay, well… long story short, this is Phil, except her name isn’t actually Phil, and she doesn’t work at the shop with me…”

               “So –”

               “… because I don’t work there anymore.”

               It took me a moment for my brain to fully comprehend what he was saying. “…what? Why would you quit? We need that income!”

               It was the curvy-bitch’s turn to speak – at least, she sure seemed to think so, judging from how she began chuckling to herself as she crossed one tanned, shiny thigh over the other.

               “Your husband works for me now,” she smiled softly, preened eyelashes fluttering as she rested her fingertips against each other before her ample breasts. “Do not worry about money, for your mate has been… handsomely compensated.”

               “Okay, first of all, he’s my husband. Second… Ben, this question’s for you: how the fuck are we supposed to fix me?”

               Ben didn’t answer me. Instead, he shared a look with the curvy-bitch.

               “Oh, and third: what’s your name, Phil?” I spat the name from my mouth like it tasted bad.

               “I am Philandra, arch-mistress of Inweyj, the Shasta Tribe’s goddess of wealth and luck.”

               “…I’m going to go back to calling you Phil.”

               “It matters, not…” with that, Phil raised herself from the couch and approached me with bare feet. She really was barely wearing anything. Her panties were a slim strip of cloth girdled in place by bejewelled chains, and her bra was no different. I couldn’t help but notice that her breasts and hips were nearly as plump as mine, though her waist was narrow and trim.

               “That’s close enough,” I held a hand out as she paused before me, eyelashes fluttering as her gaze inspected every inch of my body.

               “My, my,” she smiled softly. “This modern world truly is full of riches and wonder. Such ample growth – and only in a single day…” she turned to my husband. “How much of my milk did she drink?”

               “Mel,” he looked at me. “How much did you drink?”

               “All of it,” I said slowly, stiffening as Phil smiled again.

               “Oh my,” Phil raised her eyebrows. “We need to free you of these trappings…”

               “Wait, when you said ‘my milk,’ did you mean – hey! I said don’t come closer!”

               “Relax… I promise I won’t hurt you…”

               “Ben! Stop staring! Get off the couch and help me!”

               “Honey,” he leaned forward, but he didn’t stand up. “You can trust her. She’s the only one who knows how to help.”

               “This is your fault for putting that milk in the fridge!”

               “I’m sorry,” he bent his head low. “I didn’t know where else to put it.”

               “Hush,” Phil was barely a head’s breadth away from me now. I could feel her warm breath blowing past me as she looked down at the ball of fat that was currently hanging over my belt. My flannel shirt had already untucked itself, so the blouse buttons were only just beginning to strain. She reached for my belly hesitantly, as if to soothe a wild beast. Slowly, with shaking fingers, she rested her hand lightly upon the top of my belly.

               The feeling of her hand running itself across the flannel wrapped around my plush belly was such a bizarre situation that it put me at a loss for words, so I just stood there, watching her rub my mound of fat. She seemed to grow more emboldened the longer I stayed silent, and was soon caressing me with both her hands.

               “Such an impressive size,” she hummed, lifting my belly and squeezing the flesh together. “The milk’s magic attunes itself to the desires of its vessel.”

               “W-what?”

               “Every want, every need…” she swept her hands in slow circles around my sides before resting them over my navel. “It is your ambition that feeds it – and feeds you in return. So impressive. Your husband chose wisely.”

               “’Wise’ is not the word I would use,” I rubbed my thumbs against my fingers nervously. “Also, how does this massage make me thin again?”

               “Oh, forgive me,” Phil chuckled. “But I was born in harsher times. Never have I seen such girth…”

               “Well, I’ve seen enough. Make me thin again.”

               She paused, though her hands still rested over my belly. She looked back at Ben, who looked back at her before looking at me.

               “So…” Ben gave me a look. “About that.”

               “Yes?”

               “That milk was meant for a client in Ghana who… well, I guess that part doesn’t matter. But it’s very concentrated and –”

               “Ben! Stop rambling and make this woman cast a spell to make me thin again! I don’t care! I’m done with this already!”

               “We have to wait for the milk to wear off first.”

               “Great! Thank you! So how long does that take?”

               “Well, that depends.”

               “Depends on what?”

               “I guess the best way to put it is… if you keep desiring, the magic milk should… run out of juice?”

               “You must give in to your greed,” Phil gave my belly another double-handed squeeze. “Let your ambitions flow through your mind!”

               I slapped her hands away and backed myself into the wall. “Enough of that! What are you two even talking about?”

               “Honey… we need you to want things more so that, uh… so that you can get fat as fast as possible and wear the spell out.”

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You know what I'd find absolutely hilarious? If she decided to go to the hospital instead and Ben got arrested. I mean I know that won't happen, but realistically most people would go to the ER thinking someone had spiked their drinks and their were going crazy instead of returning to their apartment. Also how come Ben knew exactly when to call her? Imagine if he hadn't. He would have been in a lot of trouble for sure then. Maybe the CDC would have gotten involved and and accused him of spreading some super fattening disease.

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2 hours ago, superweightgain said:

You know what I'd find absolutely hilarious? If she decided to go to the hospital instead and Ben got arrested. I mean I know that won't happen, but realistically most people would go to the ER thinking someone had spiked their drinks and their were going crazy instead of returning to their apartment. Also how come Ben knew exactly when to call her? Imagine if he hadn't. He would have been in a lot of trouble for sure then. Maybe the CDC would have gotten involved and and accused him of spreading some super fattening disease.

Ben was minding his own business at home, waiting for Philandra to come over, when he figured he should check on the “product.” He has an “oh shit” moment and has been trying to call Melanie ever since 🤦‍♂️

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On 3/20/2020 at 2:39 PM, Batman76 said:

Man this is some wild shit. It's cool to see the magic from only one side for most of this

Yeah, most stories like this are from the spellcaster's point of view or are written in 3rd person so that the plot is fully in view. I really wanted to experiment with exploring what it would feel like to be unwittingly under the influence of magic. It was hard sometimes -- at first, the only hint that something was amiss was that the story's title was "Magic Milk" -- but I'm so glad that I did it.

This last chapter's gonna be epic 👌

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And here we have the decisive end to the strange tale of Melanie's "Magic Milk." I think some more chapters of "The Thin College" are overdue. Sidenote: who do you think she's been selling her "products" to? 🤔

Chapter Eleven

               “Fine… okay,” I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes. “Juice-out the spell… I get it. I’m not stupid…”

               “Piece of cake,” Ben added encouragingly.

               “Right… you said I need to think greedy?”

               “Indeed,” Phil smiled, leaning against my wall with her arms crossed. “Give in to your desires.”

               “Well, first of all, what I really want is to be thin again.”

               “Good…” Ben nodded.

               “Second, does this woman have to be in here?”

               “Well,” Ben glanced in the scantily-clad woman’s direction. “It’s kind of brisk outside…”

               “Big whoop! I want her gone Ben. I want her gone! I need it!”

               For her part, Phil looked shocked at the prospect of leaving my house. The sight of her eyes widening as she glanced at my husband waiting for him to take her side made my neck tingle with pleasure.

               “Melanie’s right,” Ben sighed. “Philandra, can you do what she asks?”

               “I’ve adorned myself in the cleansing garments,” Phil protested. “My body is ready to –”

               “You can come back when the spell is drained,” he replied calmly. “Like you said.”

               “But it’s cold outside,” Phil pouted.

               “Just wait in the guest bedroom and we’ll get you when we’re ready.”

               Dejected, Phil stole one last, yearning look at my body before tearing her eyes from my swollen belly and leaving the room. I waited until I heard the guest bedroom door click shut before turning my attention to my husband.

               “Great,” I waved my arms and slapped them against my thighs. “Wonderful. That’s one desire fulfilled. Why isn’t it working?”

               “Philandra explained some of it to me before you got home,” Ben told me as he finally raised himself from the sofa and approached me. “The spell functions at a subconscious level.”

               “Meaning what?”

               “It’s not just that you have to want something, you have to be in a uh… needful mood.”

               “Great! How do we do that?”

               “Let’s keep trying. What were you thinking about when you first started growing?”

               His question caught me off-guard. How much could I tell him without straining our marriage even more? Actually, fuck it! He was the one straining our marriage with his influencer-witch and magic milk, not me!

               “Money,” I nodded, glancing down my cleavage to see if it was getting any deeper. “A promotion. I was trying to get a promotion secured today, but… I think I screwed up. I think I’m getting fired…”

               “Aw honey, don’t worry –”

               “This isn’t working! I feel even worse!”

               “You know, I was waiting to tell you about the side-hustle I’ve been doing with Philandra.”

               “Please. Can we not talk about her?”

               “Let me show you our bank account,” Ben pulled his phone out and opened a new tab to show me. The green numbers I could see going into our account were scattered all over the place, but there were a lot of them.”

               “Wow,” I leaned closer to the screen. “How much am I looking at?”

               “About twice what I was making at the shop.”

               A tingle went down my spine at the thought of being financially stable, and as it passed through my torso, my belly rumbled.

               “Honey,” I bit my lip as I rested a hand lightly over the buttons holding my belly in. “That’s a lot of money… how long has this been going on?”

               “A few months, so…” Ben wrapped his strong arm around my shoulders. “Remember how you wanted to buy another truck? A new one?”

               “Yes…” I began to smile as the rumbling grew louder.

               “You can see it, right? Fresh, leather seats, that new car smell…”

               “A yellow car!” I blurted.

               “Yes! Your favourite colour.”

               It happened at that moment – as I dreamed of running my hands over the trucks steering wheel and relaxed in Ben’s embrace, my shoulders broadened. Not with muscle, though, but with fat that puffed itself from my delts and encased them in a soft layer of padding that made my husbands thick fingers sink into them. We shared a look of excitement with each other.

               “It’s working!” I grinned. “I’m getting…”

               “It’s working!”

               “Yes! What else can we buy?”

               “Believe me, we’re just getting started,” Ben’s voice worked into a frenzy, matching my own. “We got a website running and more and more people are buying. Which means –”

               “Road trip?” my eyes widened. “A cruise?”

               “Better. We can pay-off our mortgage. We can buy a new house.”

               “A new house? Really?”

               “Where do you want to live? Want to live in California? Beverly Hills, maybe?”

               Oof!

               The sudden swell of my belly was like a kick from within. This time, I could hear it as much as feel it expand as my shirt-buttons strained to contain me.

               “Oh shit,” Ben leaned closer. “Let me take that belt off of you before it breaks.”

               “Thanks,” I sighed, trying to suck my belly in so his fingers could get to the buckle. “I guess I didn’t realize I needed that too.”

               “For sure,” he said. “Can you… hold your belly up?”

               Feeling myself blush, I complied, feeling the pliable softness of my rounded gut through my shirt. It was like a sack of hot rice… or maybe sand. It was a good feeling.

               “Letting loose is gonna feel so good,” I quipped.

               “Hell yes,” Ben nodded as I felt him undo the buckle and pull the leather belt off me.

               “Oh, you have no idea how good that feels!” I moaned. “This thing was strangling me all the way here!”

               “Let’s keep this vibe going.”

               “Oh… I mean, yes!”

               “So I see that you like the idea of living in Beverly Hills?”

               “Oh yeah.”

               “We can get a mansion by the beach – and a swimming pool too.”

               “A heated swimming pool!”

               “Yeah, we can get a spa too.”

               “No, I mean the swimming pool is the spa!”

               “Oh, that’s a really good idea…”

               “Seriously… why do people insist on building them separately? All that hot, clean water… bubbling over my skin…”

               As we were talking, I could feel the skin of my breasts stretching and expanding. Before I even noticed it, they were each the size of my head. The sports bra clinging to my middle just beneath them was still holding their weight, jutting them forwards. Every movement on my part was making them jiggle lazily against each other, wobbling slowly like a plus-size strippers ass balancing on legs wearing six-inch heels. It made me wonder if my ass was jiggling as much. Well… it made me wonder if they’d jiggle as much, considering how my lower half was strapped tightly into my favourite pair of designer jeans.

               “… and while we’re on a spending spree,” I added carefully. “I’m going to need a new pair of jeans or two.”

               “Oh,” Ben’s eyes widened. “Want to take those off? Maybe it isn’t too late to save them.”

               “We can try… I can’t see the front button…”

               “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it.”

               “Thanks,” I said as he set to work. It gave me the excuse to lift up my warm belly again. Knowing that it would be flat again made it even easier to enjoy its plush softness, and considering how I was trying to get myself into a needful mood, I started doing something I never thought I would: I embraced my own softness. Deep beneath the layers of flab, my abs relaxed. I didn’t have to suck it in anymore. Hell, the bigger my belly got, the better! Every pound, every inch brought me closer to being free of this spell and back to my slender self.

               The very thought was enough to make my belly surge, a single button pinging off of Ben’s head.

               “Ouch…” Ben brushed his hand through his hair. “What was that?”

               “Nothing,” I gave my belly an experimental squeeze. “Do you think I’d get this fat when we have a baby?”

               Ben looked up towards my face, but all I could see of him were his eyes; the rest of him being obscured by my massive boobs. “What, you? Fat? Nah… you’d never let yourself go. Except maybe these will get fat…” he gave my left boob a pat, making it wobble against its twin.

               “Ooh!” I snickered. “Let’s add ‘implants’ to the wishlist.”

               “Implants? Implants? You don’t need implants honey; you’re beautiful the way you are.”

               “Aw really? You’re so sweet.”

               “But if you do get implants… maybe put them back here…”

               Eep!

               My husband had spanked my ass! It was completely without warning! Normally, it wouldn’t matter, but the sting of his strong hand smacking the extra-sensitive padding of my ass didn’t just surprise me, it spurred within me a deep sense of lust I never knew I had, and my body reacted immediately.

               Ben had no chance of escape. The front button of my jeans – already loosened by him – pinged free even faster than that stray shirt button did. My belly sank into the gap, prying my zipper apart one tooth at a time. I groaned with delight as the pressure on my middle lessened, but the relief was short lived. An aftershock hit me in the ass, which began to strain against my jeans to the point that the seams began to tear.

               “I…”

               Before my hands could investigate the swelling, my jeans began to burst. It started in the inner seam of my right thigh, which ripped from knee to crotch in an instant. White skin poured out, reddened and enflamed for being confined for so long. Next was my right thigh, which burst through both seams. Blood began to flow back into my legs and cheeks, every inch of skin throbbing and tingling against the warm, conditioned air of our home. It was an amazing feeling.

               “Ben… Ben I feel… ooh…”

               My pelvis began to creak. I could feel my hips growing with each throbbing heartbeat, and my ass and thighs raced to keep up. The tears in the sides of my jeans travelled up the sides of my hips, pausing on their crest for a moment as the pressure continued to build. Then, with a final creak, one of the sides tore completely, and my jeans fell uselessly about my calves – the only part of my jeans still intact.

               Ben stared at my widened hips with a sense of awe and slight longing, pursing his lips as my elastic, skin-coloured panties clung for dear life. I stared back at him, acutely aware that my breasts had begun to throb as well.

               “…I want you,” I gasped quietly.

               He blinked. “Sex? Right now?” he whispered.

               “No…” I whispered. “Not with her in the house listening to us.”

               “Oh, okay…”

               “But I am hungry,” I bit my lip. “And if I’m going back to being thin soon, then… fuck it. I wanna eat something nice. Something delicious.”

               “Let’s do it!” Ben rushed towards the kitchen. “I’ll get the Budweiser.”

               I rolled my eyes. “I said ‘delicious,’ Ben.”

               “… I’ll get the Barefoot Wine…”

 

               What followed was a series of increasing signs of decadence and debauchery that surprised me. Even more surprising was my own hunger, which never quite went away. We drank the whole bottle of wine as I ate a leftover apple pie in the fridge. Then, still famished, I ate a tub of Ben&Jerrys ice cream from the freezer – and then another. Next, I ate a large bowl of Honeynut Cheerios (mixed with Normal Milk), all while I finally caved and binged on Ben’s stash of Budweiser.

               As I ate, my body grew. My belly did its fair share of growing, stretching itself outwards and pooling over my thighs, but it was the rest of me that stole the show. My ass and thighs expanded outwards in all directions, until they filled the chair I was sitting on. Eventually, Ben had to snap the chairs arms off so I wouldn’t get stuck. My boobs swelled rounder and bouncier, defying any attempts by what was left of my shirt to be concealed. Then the seams around my arms ripped, and we tossed the shirt aside.

               By the time Phil was brought back into the room, my panties had snapped and Ben had shoved another chair under me to support my gigantic bulk.

 

               “Well done…” Phil stared at me in awe. “Well done!

               “Thanks,” I replied, arms resting over my Ben-sized boobs.

               “She is far bigger than I could ever have imagined!” Phil fawned. “This world truly is full to bursting with opportunities. My products will sell so well…”

               “Ben!” I snapped. “Don’t let her fondle me! I… I can’t get up…”

               “Alright Philandra,” Ben sighed. “We’ve worn the magic out of her. How do we fix her?”

               “’Worn the magic out’ is not quite correct,” Phil replied. “I would say that the magic has… matured… fermented…”

               “Wait,” I grumbled. “You said that we had to wear the spell out, so why are you saying it’s matured? Phil? Answer me! Why are you – Ben! Tell her to get off the table!”

               “You misunderstand me,” Phil replied softly, approaching me like a cat on all fours. “The spell has worn-out, but my magic has filled you. To the brim.”

               “How do we get it out?” I asked, leaning back as Phil crawled close.

               “I think you will like it,” Phil purred. “What we are going to do is milk you until your body is empty again.”

               Wha -- !?”

               “Ben, prepare the bowls and pans!”

               “Ben stop her –”

               Ben walked back to the kitchen cabinets. “Right away ma’am.”

               “Ben! You tricked me!”

               “He did no such thing, dear,” Phil lay her manicured hand over my shoulder. “We’re going to milk you thin again, and there is so much milking to be done. Gallons and gallons of milk… so many clients… I can almost hear the clink of gold…”

               “I told you,” Ben returned with every single bowl in our kitchen stacked in his hands. “We don’t use gold anymore. We use dollar bills?”

               “That poor paper? Who decided that paper was worth gold? Whoever did it must have swindled all the gold from everyone…”

               “Wait…” I frowned. “How much money are we talking about?”

               Ben and Phil shared a look. As Phil broke into a grin, Ben wrapped his arm around my pillow-soft shoulders.

               “Let’s say…” Phil tapped her cheek in thought. “…it is worth more than its weight in gold – or poor paper.”

               It was as if a weight was lifted from my shoulders – even if my boobs were bigger than I had used to be – and the last of my anxiety left me.

               “More than it’s weight in gold?” I began to smile. “Well… I weigh a lot. A whole lot.”

               “Come on Philandra,” Ben slapped my shoulder. “Let’s milk our cash cow.”

               “Ben,” I cringed. “Not another Dad joke…”

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11 hours ago, Batman76 said:

This was a ride from start to stop, loved the slow build up leading to explosive obesity. I'd how for a future where she goes through cycles of being an obese milk cow.

 

And I'm looking forwards to more thin college

Waxing and waning with the seasons, whenever she develops a yearning for more quick cash — and perhaps something else 🐄

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