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Greedy Goblin Girl Grows Girthy


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Cats Tissues GIF by AFV Pets

Chapter Twenty-Eight

               The first thing I did when Brian left was immediately rush to my room to inspect myself in the mirror.

               “Stupid little button,” I grumbled. “What exactly did he see?

               As I said the words, something rustled from the far end of the house. “Shroomy…” a pesky voice called-out.

               I ignored Gobbo, of course, for I had more important things to worry about. Brian had seen me in my indignantly-stuffed state! And he’d entered my house completely without permission! What even was the point of a mountain cottage if anyone could visit before the sun had even risen?

               Shroomy…

               I’d have to tell him my feelings when I saw him again, but for now I had a more urgent matter to attend to. I stood before my mirror. The glow of the fireplace in the next room shone against a sliver of my outline. It was time to get a proper look. I took a deep breath, lit a light spell in my hand, and –

               “Shroomy! Where are you?”

               Oh dear, it was worse than I thought! My smock covered most of the front of my dress, but stopped at the crest of my chest where it protruded farthest. Above it were three buttons straining to hold my dress together – there were supposed to be four!

               I sighed sadly and leaned forwards for a closer look. So this is the what Brian had been staring at: three buttons holding gaping fabric together over bulging cleavage, and the largest gap of all was right in the centre, revealing the cups of my cowskin one piece.

               And as I worried over myself, Gobbo wouldn’t stop rambling outside my room. “Stupid…” she muttered over the sounds of mysterious rustling. “Can’t… rrrh!”

               But whatever mischief the goblin had gotten herself into, it would have to wait. I needed to replace the button, and I happened to know a spell to do so. Lost buttons were a surprisingly-common problem in the academy, and while any seamstress could easily fix the problem, it came with a price. Hence, the mend spell: a boon for any poor academy student. It was tricky to utilize; technically the caster was tugging multiple ends of frayed fabric together at once, but I’d cast it many times, for my reputation as a bookworm had encouraged many a classmate to approach me for help with their own wardrobe malfunctions.

               “Right,” I muttered. “Mending spell. Just like before. Trace the finger… visualize all the threads… and…”

               Something banged against the table outside. “Ow-wuh!” said Gobbo.

               Fuck,” I yelped.

               I’d been too quick. The fabric was too tight against my bulging chest, and the pinch of the button returning to its proper place made me breathe too sharply. The buttons strained, the gaps between them gaped wider, until –

               Pop.

               “No!” I tried to catch the rogue button.

               Pop-pop. Pop.

               My buttons lay strewn about the floor, and my dress had flown wide-open across the chest. My breasts surged forward with surprising force, rounded and full. I gasped at the shocking sight, and the ease of my breathing without constraint was not enough to subdue the sheer horror I felt at the sight of how massive my breasts were getting.

               My breasts were bigger, and had visibly increased in size since I’d first consumed my own growth potion. It hadn’t been long since I could contain them in the palms of my hands. No longer – they were cabbage-sized now.

               “How can this be?” I held my breasts with shaking hands. “It’s barely been a day…”

               Old thoughts resurfaced in my mind. Milker’s formula and growth potion mixed together in my body within barely a week’s time was certain to have unforeseen side effects…

               And before those thoughts could properly marinate, they were interrupted by a dreadful clatter just outside.

               “Help me!” Gobbo squeaked. “It’s not going. Ahhh!”

               I groaned and pried my eyes from the mirror. “What, you?” I snapped. “Why are you –”

               I could not believe my eyes. Gobbo was trapped in the empty bag of crisps! No doubt it was the closest hiding spot for her when Brian had unceremoniously intruded upon us, but now that he was gone, the plump goblin had learned too late that her body no longer fit into the hiding space like it would have recently. She was struggling madly, stumbling blindly about the house with the bag stuck over her head and body.

               “Shroomy! Hey!” she ran after the sound of my voice and crashed headfirst into a chair. “I’m stuck! I’m stuck!

               “Oh gods, what’s come over you this time?” I grumbled.

               “It won’t come off!” Gobbo spread her legs into a wide stance and began thrashing her head like a furious bull. “Rawr ragh! Please! Get it off! Rahhhgh!

               “Just hold still and let me grab it you stupid thief!” I stomped after her and grabbed the bag of crips from the top.

               “Ahh, you’re shaking me! You’re shaking me!”

               “Try to hold still so I can help you for once,” I grit my teeth. “Stop fidgeting! It’s almost off…”

               Slowly, then all at once, Gobbo popped free of the bag and landed on her plump bottom with a meaty smack.

               “That hurt,” she whined as she rubbed her rump.

               “Oh, stop being so dramatic,” I picked her up by her armpits and lifted her into the air. “See? You’re completely… fine…”

               I froze, completely lost in the moment. There I was, with my fat goblin held helpless in my arms as I looked her in her golden catlike eyes, and suddenly I realized that somehow everything had changed. All this time I’d conspired to sabotage her figure so I could catch her and banish her from my house forever. Now I was holding her, and she was looking at me with wonder like a pet dog. When had my plans changed? When had I subconsciously started taking care of her like she belonged here? Why did I free her from the bag of crisps?

               Gobbo blinked and tittered happily with a sigh.

               “We’ve gotten so fat,” she patted my gaping cleavage with her grubby hand.

               I yelped and chucked her into the cushioned chair by the fireplace.

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And so the goblin finally notices/points out her weight gain and the witch's as well, so now I'll be waiting to read what comes after this. Gobbo is apparently more accepting of it at first glance though Shroomy of course isn't and the embarrasment at being spotted by her friend without meaning to will be funny I bet, maybe she gets teased by Gobbo?...I'll have to wait and see.

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4 hours ago, scl04 said:

And so the goblin finally notices/points out her weight gain and the witch's as well, so now I'll be waiting to read what comes after this. Gobbo is apparently more accepting of it at first glance though Shroomy of course isn't and the embarrasment at being spotted by her friend without meaning to will be funny I bet, maybe she gets teased by Gobbo?...I'll have to wait and see.

Against all odds, Shroom is the only one who seems to have an issue with her weight gain

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

               Ehp!

               Gobbo tumbled softly against the cushions of the chair with her arse in the sky. She glared at me indignantly from the narrow space between her chubby, stubby thighs.

               “Why…?” she asked.

               “Why?” I glared back at her with my arms holding my chest. “Why? Why did you do that? You can’t just pat anyone as you please – and I’m not fat!”

               “Not yet, anyway…” Gobbo quipped.

               “What? No… no, of course not!” my voice rose in pitch. “What are you talking about?”

               Gobbo paused briefly to roll herself upright with a slight grunt before replying. “It’s on purpose, isn’t it? Goblins put on weight to last through the winter, but I didn’t know humans did too.”

               “Oh…” I laughed nervously. “Oh, is that what you meant? Um, yes haha! Why didn’t you say so? Of course it’s been on purpose!”

               “You’re really good at it – this bulking, fattening thing,” Gobbo hummed innocently from her seat and patted her fat rump appreciatively. “I’ve always had trouble eating enough each year for winter, but it’s been a breeze with your magic cooking.”

               “Well, it’s not magical cooking per se…”

               “My butt’s never been this big before,” she slapped her cheek so hard it made the other one jiggle. “Just look at it. It’s human sized now – maybe even bigger. I’m probably set for next winter season too! Anyway, let’s finish breakfast!”

               “Really? You can’t be serious…”

               But she was serious, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized this whole situation was to my advantage. So my little weight problem wasn’t as secret as I’d thought. Fine. If anyone were to know, it was best for it to be a hermit goblin who gossiped with no one, even better that she thought it was all according to my plans, and best of all… I was beginning to think of exactly how to use this situation to my advantage.

               So I sighed and put on a pleasant face. “Right… well, no time to waste. Have a seat at the table and dig-in. You’re far too skinny.”

               Gobbo, of course, was already seated and chewing vigorously on what looked like half a croissant.

               “Wan’ some?” she offered the stump of a croissant sticking from her fist.

               “Oh, don’t worry about me!” I replied with all the coyness of a cat. “You eat as much food as you can. You’re far smaller than me and need extra padding against the cold. It’s best that you eat as much as you can before I can… that is, uh… while I finish baking the rest.”

               “You sho’?” she spoke between bites.

               Eat Gobbo! Now excuse me while I… hold on…” I paused on my path to the kitchen counter as I walked past the spellbook Brian had opened on the table. The pages currently opened piqued my curiosity. “What is this?

               “Wut?” Gobbo leaned curiously over the table to look past my hip. “Wut’s that? More magic?”

               “Indeed,” I lifted the book into my arms for a closer look. “Magic… and it will suit my – our – needs quite adequately.”

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Chapter Thirty

               Breeaaap!

               I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Gobbo couldn’t help much with my spellcasting preparations, so she’d feasted on the bulk of my cooking. Unfortunately, there was only so much food to hold her attention, and now that she’d finished with it, wandering about the room and belching was all she was currently good for. The belching – that thunderous, baritone belching that echoed against the rafters – was getting on my nerves. It made me want to kick her into the bedroom and shut the door, but I resisted the urge. I should be thankful that she ate so much of the food. Every bite filling her belly would mean one less for mine.

               Not that it mattered, should this spell work as I suspected it would.

               “Heheh,” Gobbo tittered as she walked behind me. “’Scuse me.”

               “Gobbo…” I inhaled deeply. “Did you eat all the muffins?”

               “Almost,” she said proudly. “Why? Want some more?”

               I glanced to my left, where my third muffin lay half-eaten alongside a few uneaten croissants. “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind…”

               “Here!” Gobbo dropped a muffin on my food stash and plopped her fat bottom beside mine. “So how’s this spell work?”

               “Well,” I replied. “You see this red circle I’ve drawn upon the table?”

               “Uh huh.”

               “Ever heard of conjuration? All conjuration spells require a conjuring circle like this one. That’s what this will be – except we won’t be conjuring any beasts or beings like you’d expect. No. Instead, we will be conjuring fat.

               “What’s that word mean?”

               “Conjuring?” I stifled my mounting frustration. “It means… you’ll see. I think you’ll like it.”

               “Is it going to fatten us up?”

               “Only one of us – unfortunately,” I hid my smile by shoving a bite of muffin into my mouth. “Because we’re going to be… mhm… conjuringmy fat into your body.”

               “Ohh,” Gobbo’s ears twitched and her eyes were round as dinner plates as she gazed upon my circle with new appreciation. “But won’t that make you thinner?”

               “A pity…” I swallowed the rest of the muffin. “Truly a pity, but yes, Gobbo. This spell will thin me, but it’s a selfless sacrifice I am willing to make.”

               “Why?”

               “Because uh… you’re the smaller one between the two of us.”

               “You just want to make sure it works before doing it to yourself!”

               “Um, no…”

               “Is this spell going to make us milk like that one time?”

               Gods no – and I’d rather not hear of that incident ever again. Now then, go ahead and sit in the middle of the circle.”

               Gobbo eased herself onto the table without any encouragement, but plenty of effort. Her gelatinous cheeks wobbled loosely as she lifted her considerable bulk upon the tabletop, and the wood creaked beneath her feet before squeaking loudly as she seated her self in the conjuration circle’s midst.

               “Like this?” she asked.

               “Exactly so. Now hold still while I make some final checks…”

               A perfectly-round circle, supplemented with multiple interior lines to assist in its measurements, and decorated with a variety of elaborate runes. All matching their descriptions from the spellbook. It had been some time since I’d done conjuration; I’d only taken two classes on the subject to complete my core curriculum, and had avoided the art ever since, for I much preferred alchemy. Alchemy was a precise art; you knew exactly what you put in the cauldron. There was no such certainty with conjuration; a mistake could cause fundamental changes to the expected result, or nothing at all. It was a ritual prayer to unseen spirits as much as it was a spell – spirits my professor swore could smell fear and sabotage your conjuring if you weren’t confident enough.

               My professor probably told us that to make us study harder. I was almost certain of it.

               “Right… the spell is ready. Be sure to sit still as I recite the words…”

               With Gobbo sitting cross-legged and fidgeting with anticipation, I held aloft my arms over her and began to read the ancient words written on the page. It was a foreign tongue, written by dark elves, but familiar enough that I didn’t fumble the words. Gobbo gaped at me through the whole ordeal, till my recitation ended. I breathed deeply, consciously aware of my cabbage-breasts pressing against the sides of the dress whose buttons had popped so recently. It seemed at first that nothing had happened.

               Then, slowly yet steadily, Gobbo began to grow before my very eyes.

               “It’s working!” she yelped excitedly. “It’s working!

               Gobbo was indeed growing fatter. Her cushioned ass cheeks began to expand and spread across the table with a muffled rubbing sound. They filled-out and rounded like water skins, and their increasing circumference began to make her slowly rise off the table. Her taut, full belly relaxed as it swelled into her lap, and the chub of her thighs made her uncross her legs. It was working!

               Except it wasn’t.

               “Something’s not right,” I glanced down at myself without daring to move my arms from their position. “Why aren’t I getting thinner?”

               “Oh, lucky!” Gobbo laughed. “This is fun!”

               “Hold still, you! I’m trying to think!”

               “This is the best spell ever!”

               “It’s botched you bloated fool! Where is all this blubber coming from?”

               And then I saw it: my little pile of snacks by my side growing ever smaller with each passing moment!

               “The food!” I cried. “It’s coming from the food!”

               “What is?”

               “The fat! All the fat in the house is conjuring into the circle!”

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On 9/27/2022 at 2:39 AM, Mr.Grignard said:

Well, it’s nice to know that even in the world of sorcery there are no shortcuts. You’d think she’d no better than to do stuff like this on the fly.

Not that I’m one to judge. I’m definitely the “DIY” type when it comes to knowledge, and I know what it’s like to have it backfire.

If only she were this committed to actual diet and exercise. Oh well...

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Chapter Thirty-One

               Gobbo gasped with horror.

               “Not the food!” she tried and failed to scramble to her feet. “I need it!”

               “Don’t move like that!” I warned. “Steady! This spell’s hard to control as is!”

               How typical of my little goblin housemate to feel the loss of foods to munch mindlessly upon was the most pressing of our current concerns, and not the fact that the food was converging within her body. I wouldn’t be so upset about it – I could get more from the village once the storm was over – except it was entirely subverting the spell’s purpose! My fat was supposed to seep away into her body. It was such a simple concept, so why was it going so terribly wrong?

               Gobbo was really porking-up now. Her plump bottom had matched my own’s breadth and heft, protruding obscenely outwards due to her diminutive proportions. Now it was growing ridiculously huge, expanding in all directions like an overly-cushioned seat. If I scooped her into my arms now, she would literally be an armful, more akin to a small hog’s weight than a proper goblin. Truly, I’d never seen such a fat goblin ass.

               So fat was Gobbo growing, in fact, that even she seemed alarmed by it.

               “Uh, Shroomy?” she patted her chunky thighs with mounting panic. “It’s not stopping… you need to make it stop!”

               “Be quiet and let me think! I need to check my notes.”

               “Shroomy! Too big!”

               “Hold still.

               “Shroomy –”

               The conjuring circle’s rim burst into flame.

               Eeek!” Gobbo flailed her arms about from within the flaming circle. “Get me out!”

               “Oh, settle down already!” I said while attempting to sound like I was still in control. “It’s fine. Just a small fire. See? Like a candle flame.”

               Why is it on fire!?

               “I don’t kn – I mean, it’s a rebound. That’s what it is. Some spirit is being cheeky.”

               Why is it cheeky? Tell it to stop!”

               “If you could be quiet for one moment…

               “Oh… ooh! It’s burning! It’s still burning! My butt’s getting closer. Shroomie, my butt’s growing closer! It’s hot! It’s hot!

               I let out a slow sigh and relaxed my arms from over the circle, for there was no saving this botched spell. “Right,” I muttered. “Arms up, Gobbo. I’m lifting you out…”

               The flames Gobbo was so frightened of were, in fact, hardly stronger than candle flames, for while the table was wooden, it was hard to light, so by the time I was reaching past it, I barely felt their heat.

               But I foolishly forgot that the spell wasn’t properly stopped. No sooner had I gripped Gobbo by the armpits, I felt a subtle spark against my fingertips.

               Eep!” I yelped as I lifted her out of the circle.

               Gobbo stared cluelessly at me as I plopped her to the ground. “What?” she asked.

               Suddenly, her body rumbled. She gaped down at herself as her bulbous lower half squelched to two-thirds its former size.

               “Oh, look!” she patted her hip. “I’m small again! Eh… smaller, I meant…”

               But I wasn’t paying attention. An ominous rumbling resonated deep within me as I held my breath. I rested my hand against my belly with mounting dread, willing with all my might that what I feared most would not come to pass.

               “No please…” I grunted with effort. “Not… like this…”

               It was all for naught. Whatever minor deity I was dealing with clearly had an appetite for mayhem. The simmering energy within my core shot backwards like a bucking horse. Its force buckled me, and I felt the back seam of my dress rip with a long, resounding tear as I groaned towards the floor.

               The spell was broken and the ringed flame snuffed itself out as quickly as it had begun. I slowly eased myself up, dreading what I was about to discover of myself.

               “What… happened…” I trembled with my arms at my sides, for I dared not touch myself.

               “It worked!” Gobbo cheered. “It worked!”

               I needed to stand before the mirror.

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Chapter Thirty-Two

               The horror.

               The absolute, insurmountable horror.

               I stood before the mirror and contemplated the newest changes in my reflection. My ass was fat, and my dress was ruined.

               “Shroomie!” Gobbo excitedly poked her head through the door. “Are you in here? Let’s look in the mirror!”

               “Out!” I grabbed the pillow from my bed and tossed it at her. “Out!”

               I heard her skittering away. She was probably scavenging for food, which meant I had some privacy to myself once more. It was time to investigate the damage to my figure.

               The horror.

               The absolute horror.

               It had been bad enough when I’d first discovered my figure beginning to swell and soften, even worse when I started losing chest buttons, but this latest development… this was irreparable. The seat of my dress had shredded across its breadth from the crest of one cheek to the other. There was no single seam that had ripped and parted, which meant repairing it was beyond my powers.

               As if repairing the dress would solve my latest problem! Even if I found a way to lace the threads back together, it simply wasn’t possible for them to contain the plump horse-arse I’d suddenly grown. My arrogance with spellwork had been duly rewarded with the worst backfire I could imagine. I’d only ever wanted to slim the fat building in my front and middle, and now it was behind me as well, surrounding me on all sides in an ever-increasing layer of obscene obesity – obesity? No. No, not quite. Not yet.

               Slowly – so as not to arouse my own fear and anxiety – I ran my hands across the breadth of my new ass. The fat had transferred from Gobbo’s plump bottom into my own, almost doubling its size and transforming already soft cheeks into plump, sagging handfuls. If I dared myself to dwell upon my predicament, I’d conclude that the conjuration spell had distributed the fat of our bums equally so that they were the same size. Why? How? Had I used the wrong inflection in the incantation? Had Gobbo fidgeted too much? Had some spirit deliberately toyed with us?

               Or perhaps my failure had been Gobbo’s success. Faint memories of my conjuration professor returned to me, memories of long lectures and convoluted warnings to be cautious. Conjuration was part spell and part incantation. It was a call to unseen spirits to aid in the physical realm. Such spirits were among the most mysterious and misunderstood beings in all creation. Conjuration spells were written in ancient languages and recited exactly so more because it was the surest way to make the spell work and even then it could fail. Some said spirits had no need of such spells to understand what they were being asked to do. There were signs they could read minds.

               Had Gobbo sabotaged my spell by wishing for us both to be fat?

               “Hey,” she tapped the door with her little knuckles. “What’s wrong?”

               “It’s nothing,” I snapped. “Nothing at all. I’m fatter than ever.”

               “Are you upset because your dress is broken?”

               “Yes,” I sighed, and felt my belly relax and press against the last part of the dress holding together.

               “That’s fine, Shroom; because I found another dress for you!”

               “You what?”

               Gobbo opened the door and dragged a dress across the floor to me. “That man left this on the table before he left. I think you can fit; it’s really big.”

               “It is…” I took it from her. “To you, that is. I’m not that big.”

               “That spell was awesome,” Gobbo posed before the mirror and flexed her arms. “I’m so fat now. Look how big my bum is. Shroomy, look! Look how big it got! It can touch the sides of your chair now – I just checked. It’s so big.”

               “Yes, Gobbo, you’re a big bum alright…”

               “But you haven’t looked yet!”

               Gobbo’s newfound girth was the second most important thing to me at the moment, for now that I was holding the dress before me, I was resisting the urge to toss it into a corner and never look at it again. It was a pretty dress, and well-woven, and yet it was of a style I’d never dare to wear.

               “This dress…” I groaned. “This thing is fit for bar wenching, not witches!”

               “Is it because it’s orange?” Gobbo asked cluelessly.

               “Can’t you see its frilly cuffs? The low-cut bosom? The ridiculously-cumbersome straps criss-crossing to contain the cleavage? This was tailored for a buxom maid in some tavern, not a…” I caught a glance of my own buxom bosom, pressing my ruined dress apart with its size. “Well… I suppose there’s only one way to find out if it fits or not. I seem to have run out of options.”

               Moments later, and I was stripped of my old threads and clothed anew. The outfit was far too colourful for my tastes, being a mix of as much orange as my typical black, and the inner layer of lacy white added to its gaudiness. I most certainly would never have been caught dead in such an outfit before, but now it was likely the last thing left in the house that fit me. At least the waist-corset was useful… although it made my bum appear to stick-out further from beneath the dress.

               “Damn that merchant,” I muttered. “I look like I work for him now.”

               “I like it,” Gobbo tugged the dress from its bottom near my knees. “This is the best dress I’ve ever seen!”

               I sighed. “I suppose this would be the only sort of dress he would have with him, all things considered.”

               “What next?” Gobbo asked. “I can’t find any food in the house.”

               “And who’s fault is – oh, nevermind. The snow is too thick for me to go down to the village for more. Let’s check the larder. I need a bite to eat after all this drama.”

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Chapter Thirty-Three

               The larder’s cellar door was outside the house, which meant Gobbo and I had to brave the six inches of snow for a brief moment and stand shivering as I fumbled to pry the heavy double-doors open. It was a truly miserable experience; worse, even, than the conjuring circle spontaneously combusting or even my bum spontaneously exploding. Yet enduring the misery was rewarded this time, for the larder remained fully-stocked. Skinned meats and ropes of sausages hung from hooks across the full breadth of the ceiling, and my frosting enchantment had preserved their nutrition and flavour like salt never could. It seemed the conjuration spell hadn’t reached this far and had left the meats untouched. In any case, such effort withstanding the chill mountain air deserved an ample reward, so I unhooked the nearest hog and hauled it back inside for roasting.

               If only we could devour the carcass raw! Perhaps Gobbo would, but I had higher standards, so I set myself to cutting slices of meat and roasting them over the fire. Long moments passed, measured by turns of the hourglass done by Gobbo to distract herself from her own hunger, and as I busied myself with slicing meats and tossing tinder into the crackling fireplace, my hunger grew ever more ravenous and intense.

               My hunger… I sighed and felt my obnoxiously buxom chest tease the straps of my new outfit. Such a sizeable appetite was fit for a beast of burden as opposed to a young maiden. The growth potion still had a hold on me. Not even a couple days had passed and I could already feel the skin of my thighs brushing each other with every step, and the subtle wobbling of my cheeks against my dress behind me. Every step, every breath had me blushing, and I hadn’t even any visitors present! It was too much to bear after so much recent drama, which was why I wasn’t going to worry about it. I refused to think about any of it! The growth potion would wear off eventually, and I would find another spell to experiment with, but for now, only a full, stuffed belly would do. Perhaps it would help clear my head and I would think of something new.

               Winter is coming, I thought to myself as I pulled sizzling chunks of ham from the fire. Now is a time for merriment and holidays. Don’t worry yourself with what you can’t control. Just don’t think about it! Not a single thought!

               “Ooh, it’s bubbling,” Gobbo stared in awe at the ham as I placed it upon the table.

               “Don’t touch!” I slapped her curious little hand. “Wait for it to stop sizzling; it’s still hot.”

               “But I’m so hungry,” she whined. “Isn’t there something else to eat?”

               Her complaints were matched by my own stomach, which groaned long and deep. “Of course not,” I blushed once again. “That damned spell absorbed all of it and… and…”

               “I wish there was something,” Gobbo groaned. “It’s not fun getting fat if you don’t get to eat.”

               “No, of course not,” I rolled my eyes facing away from her. “Not fun. At all.

               “But they’ll cool down soon, right? And then we can eat?”

               “Yes,” I sighed. “I can’t wait.”

               Strangely, a small part of me was able to resist the allure of the smoked-ham’s smell, but when Gobbo began gobbling without me, I had to stop cooking for a time and eat with her before she ate it all! So began the largest, grandest feast since… this morning, actually. Had we truly been gorging ourselves so? But no – I refused to think of it!

               Yet reality had its ways of reminding me how large I was getting. Even before I rose to claim the second batch of ham from the fire, the corset around my waist was squeezing tighter, my bulbous rump kept creaking the chair and rubbing against the backrest, and I could swear that the tops of my breasts were rising against their confinements before my very eyes. But it was all I could do to adjust the dress with a stray hand, for there was plenty more to be eaten.

               “Mmm,” Gobbo’s voice purred-lightly as she patted her round, stuffed gut. “So good! My favourite meat of all!”

               “Truly?” I asked as I placed the second batch upon the table between us.

               “Wait, why are you looking at me like that?” asked Gobbo suspiciously.

               “Oh, no reason except that I think you should eat these a little faster. It’s for the best.”

               “Yeah!” Gobbo stabbed bites of ham and began stacking her plate. “You know, I’ve never eaten this much before… I swear I can feel myself growing bigger.”

               I stopped what I was doing. “What?”

               “Like… my gut touches my legs now. I bet yours could if you wore less like I do.”

               I wasn’t sure how to answer, so I said the first thing I thought of.

               “… you can feel it too?”

               She looked at me, munching while holding a slice of ham with both hands like a squirrel holding an acorn. “Are we getting fatter? Is it magic?”

               “I… I don’t know,” I replied. “Let me eat so I can think…”

               We ate and ate. The remains of the hog were whittled down to the bone, and all the while our appetites were never sated. It was a most peculiar feeling, for while my own pangs of hunger were subdued, they were replaced by a bottomless pit deep within me that desired to be filled to no avail. Two servings were finished, then three, and even four. The pressure building against my corset grew so unbearable I had to loosen the backstraps and let my gut out a bit – and yet I didn’t feel full.

               A fifth serving was finished, followed by a sixth. There was little left of the hog. Our progress frightened me. Was I getting fatter? Even now? I ran a hand across the barely-contained curve of my front and sides, but it was too hard to tell. Perhaps if I were still wearing my own attire, any changes would be apparent, but not when I was wearing something new to me.

               I looked to Gobbo for hints of growth, but to no avail. Gobbo’s flour-sack attire did nothing to clothe her body, but rather cover its features. Her plump thighs and round buttocks stuck-out from the bottom of the flour sack, and the protrusion of her belly was only half-concealed, but it was too hard to discern any recent changes when she was sitting opposite me and behind the table.

               When we finished the seventh and final serving of ham, Gobbo sighed contentedly and patted her belly like a drum.

               “That was good!” she said. “Let’s cook another one!”

               “No!” I blurted. “It’s um… nightfall. We must sleep.”

               “Aw, but –”

               “And I’m honestly tired of cooking. We’ve fattened-up quite enough for one day.”

               “I guess…”

               “To bed, then. Maybe I’ll think of something while in bed.”

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Chapter Thirty-Four

               The growth potion that had ruined my multiple diet attempts had loosened its hold upon me, at last. For the first time since I’d first sipped it into my steadily-growing body, I was not awoken by stomach rumbles and cravings.

               Unfortunately, I was awoken by something even more unwelcome.

               Deep into the night, and even deeper in slumber, I tossed idly within my bedsheets and felt something squish against my toes.

               Eep!” said a muffled little voice.

               I yelped and kicked so hard that the whole mattress wobbled. “What? Who?” my mind kindled to life like a sputtering campfire in a winter storm. “Gobbo! What did I tell you about sneaking into my bed?”

               A small flame spell flickered to life between my fingers. A small lump quailed on the opposite side of the bed from beneath the sheets.

               “But it’s cold,” said the pathetic lump. “Shroomie, I’m so cold. The fireplace isn’t burning and the heats all gone.”

               “And so you snuck into my bed again,” I sniffed. “How did you even do that? No matter. Why my bed. We’ve made you a nest. A thick, woollen blanket should be enough for the likes of you.”

               “But it’s not,” the lump squelched itself tighter, as if bracing against the cold it detested so. “The woolly’s not working. You’re the only warm thing in the whole house!”

               Her words gave me pause. “Gobbo?”

               “Yes?”

               “Do you know why I’m so warm?”

               The lump fidgeted. I could almost hear her tapping her chin in thought. “It’s witchcraft, isn’t it?”

               “Of course it isn’t!”

               “But the bed is magical, isn’t it?”

               “Not like that, it isn’t!” I said. “Gobbo, your body makes heat.”

               “Then why do I feel so –”

               “Because you need to sleep under the blanket! The blanket traps the heat and keeps you warm.”

               “Oh…”

               “Get back in your nest already!”

               “… can we snack –”

               Let me sleep!

 

               I awakened the next morning to the pleasant sight of sunlight shining through the window. While pale from behind a thin sheen of mountain fog, the sun’s rays warmed my face. It was enough to make me smile, and I took a deep breath and stretched my legs clear across the full breadth of the bed.

               Wait… the window was open?

               I sprung from bed with a start. I’d secured every window against the recent storm! What was this one doing open?

               “Gobbo!” I nudged her woollen blanket with the tip of my toe. “Why is the window open? Gobbo?”

               The blanket lay lifeless in a heap against the wall, and I could tell that its occupant had abandoned it.

               “Gobbo? Gobbo!” I called through the whole house. “Where are you? Stop hiding!”

               My bare foot stepped on something as I stepped into the living room: a slip of paper, scribbled upon by a small, untrained hand.

               “What’s this?” I bent to retrieve the letter and did my best to ignore how my belly pressed against my thighs as I did so.

               We need mor fud, read the nearly incomprehensible pencil-scritches. Vilaj has sum. Be bak sun.

               I gasped with a hand against my heart. Good gods! She’d braved the snowscape to steal food from the village!

               “She can’t…” I groaned. “She’ll freeze! She’ll be captured! Prosecuted! They’ll burn her alive!”

               I had to save her before she got into trouble, except that meant braving my greatest fear: my plump body in a bar wench’s outfit for a whole village of peasants to mock and deride.

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Chapter Thirty-Five

               No sooner had I donned my questionably-frumpy garb, I was shoving the front door open against six inches of snow with all my might. I had to rescue that thieving goblin from her own foolishness as soon as possible, and it turned-out that the thick snow had provided me with a boon I hadn’t expected: tracks!

               Tracks stretched down the mountainside towards the village in the valley below as far as the eye could see, and their size and spacing told me they could only belong to a two-and-a-half foot goblin such as Gobbo. There was a light, hopping gait to them, betraying her dislike of the cold she was stomping through, and I could see two points where she’d unceremoniously slipped several feet on her plump bum before righting herself again. I shuddered at the thought! At least the sun was out. It was warm enough to melt through her little footprints to reveal layers of damp, brown pine needles and fir cones.

               My mind dwelled helplessly upon my situation as I followed Gobbo’s pitter-pattering footprints. Every cautious step down the snowy mountainside had my body wobbling in the most unflattering manner imaginable. Nothing could distract me from the way my cabbage-sized breasts jiggled and jostled against each other. Their half-exposed surfaces shone against the sunlight like fresh eggs, and rippled with goosebumps like… like a plucked goose. Oh, I couldn’t bear to look at them, and yet I had to as I kept an eye on my footing.

               My gait had changed of late. As my thighs plumped, they extended in all directions, brushing against the undergarments under my dress in ways they hadn’t before, and squeezing tightly against one another in equal measure. Every step had one thick thigh rubbing sensually against the other that had their fronts shaking side to side, and the impact of my feet against the cold ground had them shaking anew, joined by my round front and rounder behind.

               My whole body shook more than a cat’s back flinching from a hesitant touch, but none of the shaking was as embarrassing to me as that of my belly and bottom. How I hated the sensation of their movement! Such things were never meant to move of their own accord, and so much! I couldn’t decide which I detested more, but the mere thought of it had me on the brink of hysterics! The way my belly pressed against the lace corset containing it, the light rubbing of my cheeks against the dress draped over them, the constant, ceaseless shaking of it all!

               It was impossible not to think of my new size with every new inch of it moving so! How was I supposed to handle myself when the villagers saw me? I shuddered at the thought and pushed it from my mind as best I could, but knew I would have to face my fears soon enough. I could see the thatched rooftops of the village through the fir trees. It wouldn’t be long before the first dumb peasant spotted my wobbling approach and called like a rooster spotting the sunrise.

 

               But as I passed acres of snowy pastures and the first few sleepy homes, I was pleasantly-surprised. Busy farmland had been replaced with rolling hills of white snowfall, and every window in the village was tightly-shut against the cold. The land was quiet and empty, and my figure remained unseen!

               “What luck!” I took a deep breath and relished the icy air stinging my nostrils as my chest strained against my dress. “Now I can suffer in peace.”

               Gobbo’s tracks had vanished into the mad mix of footprints on the village’s main road. If I was to find her now, I would need help from someone who knew where to look. It was time to go to the tavern and ask Brian for help.

               So I ascended the creaking wooden steps of his front porch, shivering as I readied myself my first social interaction of the day.

               “I’m not bigger,” I rehearsed lies to myself. “It’s just this dress you gave me…”

               I raised my hand to knock –

               The door swung open. It was not Brian.

               “We’ll I’ll be…” the strange man’s dirty face broke into a saw-toothed smile. “If it isn’t Shroom the Witch! Oi lads! Lads! The witch has come to see us!”

               The man swung the door wide, revealing the raucous scene within, and I realized to my horror that the entirety of the village was staring at me, waiting for me to join them.

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Chapter Thirty-Six

               The eyes of the village fell upon me from every corner of the tavern, and as one they erupted in cheers and toasts.

               “Three cheers for the Shroom-hatted witch!” the man closest to me raised a tanker.

               “No…” I shook my head. “Please d—”

               “Hip hip!”

               Hooray!

               “Hip hip!”

               Hooray!

               “Hip hip!”

               Hooray!

               It was my worst nightmare. Nothing would have pleased me more than to cringe and shrink into the floorboards, or at least turn tail and run all the way home. It was bad enough to have such overwhelming attention brought upon myself, but to endure it while I was in such an overfed state? If only I could faint and not have to look at them! But I had a goblin to rescue, and her trail had led me here. I’d have to do my best.

               Ahem,” I adjusted the fit of my dress and set my Big Hat at a slight angle. “Well… this was quite a surprise. Could anyone tell me where Brian –”

               An old woman hobbled to my side and took me by the hands. “Come sit with us, deary! Now that we’re all snug inside, we can eat and make merry.”

               “Oh!” I blushed as we gathered about one of the many tables. “Eating? Right. I’m actually –”

               “Got you a mug and a fresh plate. Billy! Be a dear and top her off.”

               “Sure mum,” a young man with a dirty beard and even dirtier fingernails poured foaming beer into my mug from a gallon-size pitcher.

               “Oh, silly me,” said the old woman. “I’d forgotten to introduce ourselves I was so excited to see you. I’m Milly and this here’s my firstborn son, Malthus.”

               Malthus tipped his hat at me. “Howdy’do?”

               “Take that hat off boy! You know better than to wear it indoors – not that I mind your hat, miss. I must say, your new dress is… Malthus, what was that word you mentioned?”

               “Sumptuous?”

               “No, the other one.”

               Please,” I interrupted their mindless chatter. “I’m looking for Brian. Where can I find him?”

               “Oh, he’ll be back inside any moment; don’t you mind him,” said Milly. “But we should have some time to enjoy the good food.”

               “Yes,” I bit my lip and felt my stomach rumble with hunger. The delicious aromas of sizzling meats and smouldering bread permeating the tavern were rekindling my growth potion. “It all smells… just fantastic…”

               “You can have mine,” Malthus nudged his full plate toward me. “I’ve had enough, and seems you appreciate good cooking.”

               I was stunned. Did he really say that to me? I was going to ask when Milly started flapping her lips again.

               “Doesn’t she? I’ve never seen a woman grow so fast before! Didn’t think it possible!”

               “But that’s what you get when you make the best growth potions in the kingdom,” Malthus replied without pause. “Girl’s grown so plump she got a new dress.”

               It was all I could do not to flip the table. “Excuse me?” I set my hands on my hips.

               “Mind your manners!” Milly slapped her son’s hand. “She’s a proper witch, not a prize pumpkin – don’t mind him, dearie. He means well, and we’re proud of what you’ve done with yourself.”

               “Oh…” I couldn’t decide what mood I was in anymore, so I resorted to taking some bites from the pile of food on my plate.

               “But tell me,” she leaned close. “What inspired this transformation? Me and my girls have been talking for days about it, but couldn’t dare guess.”

               And now I was in a mood: shock. “You’ve been talking about me?”

               “The whole village! I said the other night it simply can’t be an accident – you fattening-up, I mean.”

               “Obviously,” Malthus rolled his eyes. “Witches look like whatever they want. That’s their cosmopolitan magic, that is.”

               “It’s cosmetic magic,” said Milly. “And I said it first! So – Miss Mushroom Witch – I was right, wasn’t I? You’re fattening-up for the winter, perhaps?”

               This was the worst, most horridly embarrassing conversation I had ever had. Discussing my growing figure with detestable, ignorant strangers was exactly what I never wanted to do! Yet here I was with a captive audience. No doubt they would spread whatever nonsense we discussed with every soul who would listen. The horror! The absolute, unfathomable horror!

               But then again… perhaps it was best I make the most of the situation until Brian returned.

               “Yes,” I stifled a belch with the palm of my hand. “That’s one way to put it…” I stirred my food with my fork to think of a convincing lie. “You see, uh… I practice a certain school of magic, and it allows me to store magic in my body.”

               “Magic-stuffing – ha!” Milly cackled to herself. “So I was right, after all. Oh, I can’t wait to tell the girls!”

               “Hang on,” Malthus stared at me with round, wide eyes. “So the bigger the witch… the more magic’s inside her?”

               “Not all witches, but yes,” I sighed. “Such is my fate, it seems…”

               “Well, we can’t have you wasting away, can we?” Milly lay her hand softly against the slight bulge of my upper belly. “I’ll fetch you another helping, love. We’re going to have a plump, powerful witch to help us this winter!”

               Dread began welling-up within me. What had I done?

               And then Malthus stood upon his chair. “You hear that, lads? Free drinks for the Big Witch!”

               The tavern erupted into cheers.

               “Brian…” I muttered to myself. “Wherever you are, hurry-up and rescue me from these buffoons…”

 

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

               For someone who ran a tavern currently hosting every soul in the valley, Brian was taking his time getting back. Seeing no less than four dozen men and women festively feasting on the Baker’s personal stock and cracking barrels of beer open for merriment actually made me nervous about their intentions. What if they’d kidnapped him and had stolen his goods? But there was nothing to it after all. Everyone knew each other, and Brian had trusted a few friends with serving the others and keeping tabs.

               All well and good. If everyone was inside, they weren’t hunting poor Gobbo. I still couldn’t help but fret about my missing thief, for I just knew she was out there causing mischief, but mentioning her presence was certainly not warranted. Who even knew what these simpletons did to unhuman thieves? Besides, I had a bigger, more urgent matter to worry about: my waistline.

               Word spread quickly amongst the curious villagers of my intention to fatten-up, and they were all-too-eager to help. No sooner had I finished one plate and began anxiously pacing the room that I’d be called to a table to meet more dullards and they’d slide another plate to me. The moment I’d drain a pint of beer, someone would pour more for me from the pitcher. The villagers were all-smiles as they fed me, and leaned close to hear my every word. There was a sense of wonder wherever I went, as if I were some mysterious ethereal being and not a freshly-graduated hermit witch living on a mountain. They would ask the simplest of questions about myself: my favourite herbal medicines, the tools I used for gardening, and other such nonsensical things only farmers could appreciate, and yet my answers only thrilled them even more. They’d never heard of Ginseng Roots, and were in awe of such a plant – and I didn’t even touch my gardening tools because they’d been enchanted to move on their own? Such whimsy!

               And the more I spoke, the more I ate. The growth potion’s hold on me was still strong, and I was helpless to resist. Like a grazing cow, I munched and chewed without end. My belly was bottomless, and my hunger insatiable. Only the steadily-increasing strain of the lacing over my belly gave me any hint of how stuffed I was truly getting.

               “My, but I’ve never seen anyone eat that much.”

               I looked-up from my plate. A young woman stared dreamily towards me with her head propped against her palm. Her lover sat next to her with his mouth open, gawking stupidly at me. What were their names again? April and Jon? Not that it mattered…

               “Me neither,” he replied at last. “Not any human anyway. My horse Gelda can chomp a whole trough a hay…”

               “I’m not a horse,” I said through half a mouthful.

               “But you could be, perhaps?” asked April.

               I swallowed. “What?”

               “Transform into a horse?”

               “Oh!” I sighed. “Oh… perhaps… I suppose I could…”

               “Oh, that would be splendid!” April giggled. “I used to daydream about it when I was growing-up, what it would feel like to run around on all fours and such – and so quickly! I think that would be grand.”

               “You always were an odd one,” scoffed Jon. “Always prancing-about, making noises of all the furry beasts…”

               “I did not,” April gasped. “You can’t believe all the gossip you hear.”

               “I’ll believe what I saw, and I saw –”

               “Please,” I leaned back and patted my stuffed gut. “This is all very fascinating, but may I have another plate? I just finished another.”

               “Jon,” April slapped her lover’s back. “Be helpful and get her something big and sweet.”

               “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Jon grunted. “Be right back.”

               As Jon left, April got up as well.

               “Where are you going?” I asked.

               “Here, let me top you off,” April grabbed the pitcher from the table and began to pour beer into my mug.

               “Actually, I’ve had quite a few and – urp – feeling a bit… ooh…”

               “It’s alright,” April chuckled. “There’s plenty to go around. Anything for our growing witch.”

               “Ugh…” I groaned. “I can actually feel myself getting fatter.”

               “That’s cause you cinched your laces too tight, silly!” April pulled a chair close and sat beside me. “Here, let me loosen them a bit. We need to let this dress out so you can breathe proper.”

               “Sure,” I craned my neck and stared at the rafters above. I felt her nimble fingers spidering across my stuffed gut as they redid the knot and tugged at each turn of the lace. “I can’t bear to look,” I groaned. “How does it look?”

               “Like an expecting mother,” April rubbed my gut with appreciation. “How does it feel? Need it looser?”

               “It’s fine,” I paused before replying and relaxed. It surprised me how far my belly went out when I did. I could feel it beginning to rest on my lap. “Relaxing… it’s relaxing.”

               “How about the rest of you? Any discomfort?”

               I finally looked down and laughed ** to myself. The tops of my breasts shook mightily from even the slightest move. “I feel like a cow.”

               “I love cows,” muttered April. “Cows are beautiful.”

               “Oh?” I looked at her and found her blushing.

               “No, not like that,” she shook her head. “But you… you…”

               “You think I’m a cow?

               “No! Well… that is, I like cows, and I like you too…”

               “April,” Jon returned with a heavy plate. “You talking about the furry beasts again? Sorry you had to hear that, Miss Witch; she can get riled-up on the slightest things. Here: I got you more food.”

               But I didn’t give either of them heed, nor even looked at whatever food was on the plate, for I’d caught sight of the only thing that mattered more to me.

               “Brian!” I called. “Brian, it’s me! I require yo – uhrp – your assistance!”

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Chapter Thirty-Eight

               Brian was by my side in an instant, though he refused the open chair Jon offered him. It’s not like I minded him standing before the table; anyone who distanced themselves from the idle gossipers had my respect. He was looking at me now, tracing the outline of my body with his eyes, and his gaze dwelled thoughtfully upon every part of me that had noticeably grown since he’d last seen me the morning pior: my swelling chest, rising a full, extra inch from its confines, the spread of my hips as they swallowed every spare square inch of the chair containing them, and especially the swelling orb that was my belly, which churned and groaned like it hadn’t been stuffed the whole morning. Yet despite his attention, he made no comment, which only made me appreciate his arrival more.

               “Oh!” April said suddenly. “Didn’t you say you were looking for Brian?”

               I blinked and glanced stupidly at her because she was correct for once. Nearly half the contents in my belly was beer, and it was clouding my thoughts.

               “Yes! Um…” I stifled yet another belch that had my whole body quaking. “Brian! Mr. Baker… I need your help. It’s an emergency!”

               “Of course,” he replied. “You wish to tell me elsewhere?”

               Yes,” I sighed in relief, for he seemed to read my mind. “Although… could you help me…?”

               I extended my hand for him and let him lift me to my feet. The breadth of my hips caught against the armrest as he did so, and the chair fell upon its side with an embarrassing clatter. It seemed my thighs were spreading wider even now as the near-impossible amounts of food in my belly digested and fattened me further. It had me stumbling, and I felt my belly squash against him. Oh, if only I had mastered the art of illusion so that I could become invisible!

               “Oh, Brian!” I groaned with a hand on my rounded gut as he guided me to the storage room. “It’s terrible! Just terrible!

               “It’s alright now,” he reassured me. “We’ll be able to hear each other in here. See? I’ve shut the door. Now you don’t have to worry.”

               “I’m not worried,” I replied. “Although – urp – you see, I’ve been searching for someone all day and no one can tell me where to find them.”

               “Looking for someone, you say?”

               “—and to make matters worse, these stupid imbeciles won’t stop feeding me. Look at what they’ve done to me, Brian! I’m nearly popping-out from this dress and it hasn’t even been – wait, what did you say? I’m rather tipsy.”

               “You were looking for me, perhaps?”

               “No – well, yes actually, but – damn it, it’s hard to think when I’m so hungry… have you seen a… a certain creature?”

               Brian raised an eyebrow. “A goblin, by any chance?”

               I was immediately upon him. “You’ve found her? Whatever you do, you mustn’t harm her! You can’t! She’s my goblin!”

               “I caught a goblin trying to steal from the coop. She’s in there now.”

               Take me to her!

              

               We were out of the tavern in an instant, Brian trampling through the snow while I followed the path made by his boots while hoisting the ends of my dress. Some of the villagers watched curiously from the door, but the cold was punishing, and they returned to their feasting inside.

               “The coop is right ‘round this corner,” said Brian. “Got a dozen chickens roosting inside, though I might buy more come spring; the coop is roomy enough for them.”

               I paid him no mind. All that mattered to me was Gobbo and what terrible fate she may have earned. If only I had kept her closer and kept her fed, then she might still be by my side as I cooked for the day. Horrible thoughts blackened my mind of what Brian and the villagers might have in store for her, and it was all I could do to match Brian’s pace without slipping in half-melted sludge.

               “Here,” Brian stopped before a rather spacious coop on the side of the tavern. “Goblin’s inside. I shut her in with this wooden slab blocking the hole. I’ll lift it aside and –”

               I sprang into the hole as soon as he moved the slab. I didn’t need to listen to him, I needed to see Gobbo for myself and make sure she was unharmed!

               Unfortunately, the coop’s entrance was more fit for chickens than a growing witch.

               “You alright?” Brian asked from behind.

               “I’m… oof… I’m fine…” I grunted. “It’s so dark and quiet in here…”

               “I was going to tell you I could go inside since I’m rather slender.”

               “You think I’m too broad for this coop?” I asked. “How ludicrous… I just… need to suck-in and… hrr… wiggle… but it’s too late to back-out in any case.”

               “I believe in you,” he said. “I’ll help if you need it.”

               “Really…” I grunted. “Where are these chickens? It’s totally silent in here.”

               “Likely sleeping, as they will.”

               “Wait,” I froze. “Is there a rooster?”

               “There is, yes.”

               A chill ran down my quivering back as fear overcame me. Old memories long-buried within me resurfaced of my greatest, deepest fear: roosters. That evil, massive bird! Strutting about the field amongst its flock like an overseer of a chain gang. I was not even three feet tall when I had my first battle with the winged terror, crying in fear as it flapped and pecked at my chest and ran me all the way home. I’d begged father that we eat it for supper, but he’d only chuckled and told me we needed the rooster so that it could raise offspring – a whole new generation of roosters.

               The rooster was here, in the darkness, and I was helplessly stuck with my arse halfway squeezed into the coop!

               “You alright?” asked Brian from just outside.

               Hush,” I whispered. “Not so loud… you’ll wake him.

               “Who?”

               Him…

               To my utmost horror, I heard a faint clucking from above. There was no time to waste! The time for action was now!

               Brian, listen close,” I said. “You need to push me in. I don’t care how you do it, but do it now.”

               “As you wish.”

               I felt his course hands palming the bulge of my cheeks. His fingers flexed with the strength and confidence of one accustomed to herding livestock. I only had just enough time to brace myself before he gave a mighty push. I felt my cheeks scraping every corner of the entrance, and an ominous rip sounded from below my waist, yet I grit my teeth and bore it. My body was getting through; it would only take a little longer before I was finally –

               Pop.

               I was through, and better yet, I had done so without awakening the rooster. Now I could stand on my feet and brush the straw off my dress.

               “Shroom?” Brian leaned his face across the entrance, which blocked half the meagre sunlight shining inside. “I’m afraid there’s a tear running across the back of your dress. Seems I might have pushed too hard.”

               “Hush,” I stood-up. “It’s alright… I just need to find my goblin.”

               “Need a light?”

               “Actually, I can manage…”

               With that, I cast a flame spell in one hand – and was thoroughly stunned by what I found.

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We are getting close to the end! I'm currently brainstorming new story ideas. Like... half a dozen ideas. They're all good, but I can't start all at once...

Chapter Thirty-Nine

               The flame in my hand flickered within the cradle of my fingers, and their shadows danced against the wooden walls of the coop. Chickens clucked lazily at the light from their nests, but none did more than cast a sideways glance at me. I sighed with relief, for there was no sign of a rooster.

               “Oh, here’s the rooster,” Brian said from outside.

               Don’t let him in,” I hissed back at him.

               “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him busy. C’mere Maximus! What were you doing down there…?”

               Safe at last. It was time for me to find Gobbo. The coop was a large structure for such a small flock. Cubby-holes lined each side, but barely a third of them had a chicken roosting within, and there was no sign of Gobbo to be found.

               “Gobbo?” I searched each cubby-hole with the flame held at my side.

               It was unusual that the goblin hadn’t answered, and I feared the worst. Brian had trapped her in here; did that mean he’d harmed her? Had Maximus the Rooster harmed her? The possibilities had my heart pounding, even as I reasoned against it. Brian had trapped her inside by sliding a block of wood over the entrance, and Maximus had been outside the coop, so there was no reason for panic. Except…

               Except the panic was still there. It wasn’t enough that she was probably safe, I needed her with me again. I’d lost her for a moment and my spirit had been distraught with worry ever since. I needed her because…

               Because…

               There: tucked-away in the corner on the tallest level was a ball of vibrant green – a little humanoid curling itself into the tightest ball it could to fit into a nest of hay. Its massive cheeks bulged sideways like mighty green gourds, and a single, long ear quivered erect from its little head like a cornstalk.

               “Gobbo?” I asked again.

               The fat thief remained still, but her ear twitched exactly the way it did to tell me she was indeed awake. Why was she pretending? I reached my (unlit) hand for her waist to rouse her from her false slumber.

               “Hey,” I nudged her. “Wake up.”

               She raised her head and glanced back at me with gold, glowing cat eyes. “I’m cold…”

               I felt my fears wash away, revealing my base instinct to chastise my house pest. “Well, why leave the house, then? Don’t you know I was worried about you?”

               “Um…” she glanced askance at the coop’s entrance. “…no reason.”

               “I know you left thieving for food; don’t you lie.”

               “Did not,” she curled herself tighter.

               “Then why did you write that letter –”

               Hush,” Gobbo’s eyes narrowed. “Who else is nearby? There must be no witnesses.

               It was at that moment that Brian joined the conversation. “No witnesses here. Just myself.”

               “No…” Gobbo moaned. “Shroomy! He’ll get me! Shroomy, stop him! Quick! He’s coming inside –”

               But it was too late to stop Brian even if I wanted to. The man was far more slender than myself, and slipped into the coop with minimal effort. Even now he was by my side, brushing hay from his shirt.

               “No need to worry,” he said. “So… you brought a goblin to live with you?”

               “No,” I replied. “Well… it’s complicated.”

               I got there first,” Gobbo insisted. “It’s my house.”

               At this, Brian chuckled. “As a matter of fact, the house is actually mine.”

               Gobbo and I stared incredulously at him. “What?” I asked. “But what about the witch before me?”

               “Tis I,” replied Brian.

               Huh?” Gobbo was so loud it sent a chicken flapping for the exit. “But witches aren’t men – and they use magic with wands! Well… usually with wands.”

               “I can see where it could be confusing,” the witch known as Brian replied. “But who’s clothes do you think I gave you? None other than myself. Wasn’t it unusual that a small village would have clothes fit for a sorceress in stock? I thought you’d notice and ask, even if you are a fresh graduate from the academy.”

               “Of course I noticed,” I sniffed. “Although… why are you working as a baker in the village?”

               “Ah, well…” he smiled and leaned against the wall. “It pains me to say it, but as drawn to wizard school as I was, seems it was not drawn to me.”

               “A wizard?” Gobbo stared with awe. “So you tried to turn into a wizard? They’re so powerful – so dangerous!

               “It’s a hard school,” I said. “Doesn’t it shed half its students within a semester?”

               “That wasn’t it,” he shook his head. “But never-mind that. When I left the school, I returned here. No one knows who I am – I have unfinished business and must keep a low profile – but I can take care of them well-enough running this tavern – and it’s good to see that my old house has been taken-care of by you two.”

               “It’s just…” I swallowed. “This is a whole lot to take-in – it changes everything!”
               “Nonsense,” he replied. “Although I would like it very much if you kept visiting me,” he smiled knowingly. “You might be wanting another dress, after all.”

               “Yes,” my hand strayed to the tear in the back of my dress. “This one’s ripping apart – not that I ripped it –”

               “I don’t mind.”

               “What?”

               “I don’t mind giving you another. In fact… now that I know of the goblin, I could stitch something up for her too.”

               “Nice,” said Gobbo. “Because I am cold.”

               “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

               Gobbo hesitated. “Um… you promise not to be mad?”

               “What did you do?”

               “I did nothing! But… I was going to take some eggs…”

               “Where are the eggs?”

               “They broke…”

               I threw my hands. “Well! What did you expect with a rump like yours? You barely fit in there as it is! Come on, let’s go…”

               I reached for Gobbo and cupped one hand under her massive cheek. Something soft and fuzzy brushed against my fingertips as I began to lift. I lifted further and discovered a pile of fuzzy, peeping balls.

               “Chicks!” I was in awe at the sight of them.

               “They started hatching and I didn’t know what to do…” said Gobbo.

               “A good omen,” said Brian. “Let’s go inside; the chickens will take care of them.”

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Chapter Forty

               Winter had come to the valley, and the landscape was a blinding-white blanket as far as they eye could see. People and livestock were huddled safely inside as they awaited the first melt of spring, and nowhere was more snowed-in than my own home in the mountains.

               Gobbo and I had settled into a quiet winter routine like a pair of bears roused halfway through hibernation. I would wake as lazily as the sun while Gobbo snoozed beneath an undisturbed mound of blankets at the corner of the bed. Barefoot, I would wander about the house and light every candle before lighting the fireplace and bringing the home to life. The sound of crackling firewood and clattering pans would rouse my hungry goblin companion sooner than later, and she would seat herself upon the kitchen counter munching sugar-lumps as she watched my work with apt attention and curiosity.

               I cooked a different delicacy every meal, each more delicious than the last if I could manage it, and we would chow down every crumb in any case. It was no small wonder that my diets had failed of late. But did that matter anymore? I liked to think not, especially with the world being snowed-in with no one seeing me in such a plump state except an equally-plump goblin that told me my body was the perfect bed-warmer. Such talk was most improper amongst polite company, but then again, I only had a goblin for company.

               I could certainly put-off worrying about dieting until springtime… but until then, there was only me, the goblin, our full pantry, a stuffed larder, and The Orb.

               Ah yes… The Orb. Once Brian had revealed his true identity, he had been much more open to some of his secrets, such as the enchanted, mystical ball that now rested upon a small altar before my fireside chair. He’d gifted it to me to make the long winters bearable, for he had company enough in the village, as he put it. It was certainly a welcome addition to our home; I could only cook for so long.

               So it was that as soon as Gobbo and I cleaned our plates, we made our way to the fireside chair for a long session of pondering The Orb.

               “So what should we watch tonight?” asked Gobbo.

               “Be patient, you fat brusselsprout!” I chuckled as I aimed my plump arse towards the middle of the chair. “I haven’t even… sat down yet – oomph…” I started in fright, for the most unwelcome snap had sounded from the chair.

               “Did you break it again?” asked Gobbo.

               “No um… hopefully not. I’m too tired for another mending spell,” I sighed with some dismay, for my thighs were beginning to press against the armrests cradling my widening lower half. I ran my hands across their breadth, noting every new pound. The chair was getting quite snug indeed. I sighed to myself; there was no use in worrying about that now. At least there was someone who enjoyed it…

               “I’m here!” Gobbo ran excitedly before me with her arms raised high for me to retrieve her.

               “Come now, I know you can jump into my lap yourself,” I grunted as I lifted her. “Oof… then again, maybe you’re far too big for that now.”

               “I’m huge now!” she said happily. “See? My bum’s like two pumpkins.”

               “As is your belly,” I noted with a lazy sigh. “You greedy goblin girl.”

               Gobbo cackled at that. Being fat didn’t bother her – nor indeed did my own fatness as she leaned against my round belly and nestled her head between my breasts. “So how about The Orb?”

               “Right,” I said as I activated the magical device with a lazy wave of my hand. “Who to watch, who to watch… Beatrice, perhaps?”

               “The royal herb witch? Aw, but we watched her last night, and plants are such a boor!”

               “Only because you don’t know their true powers,” I replied.

               “Let’s watch the royal court again! I like that bard with the dancers.”

               “That was a royal feast day and they certainly won’t be feasting two nights in a row. Not everyone eats as much as you…”

               “How about the Oktobre-feest in the big city?”

               “You and your feasts… is your hunger ever sated?”

               I was flicking my hand constantly now, switching from vision to vision. A world of wonder at my fingertips and I somehow had no clue what to ponder upon! A puzzling state of mind, to be sure (or perhaps it was an absence of mind), but I had faith that if I browsed long and far enough that something would take my fancy. A wandering hero, a brooding war chief, or perhaps my old classmates were up to something interesting…

               “Ah!” I said at last.

               “Mm?” Gobbo yawned with a twitch of her ears. “What? Who’s that?

               “It can’t be…” I grinned at the vision within the glass globe: a young, blonde elf, standing half-naked before a vanity mirror. “Is that Elaina I see? That proud, snobbish git…”

               “An elf?” Gobbo nestled her head deeper into my bosom. “Another classmate of yours? She’s a little plump for an elf…”

               “Yes,” I giggled maliciously. “And yes, she is looking a little more padded than usual, doesn’t she?”

               “She isn’t that fat,” sniffed Gobbo. “I’m definitely fatter.”

               “Ah, but look at her belly,” I pointed. “See how it pooches at the bottom, look at how she holds it with such worry – and her thighs. Definitely some softness there.”

               “I guess…”

               “Take that Elly,” I shook my fist. “That’s what you get for all those silly pranks. Oh, the gods serve sweet justice after all! May your thighs touch forevermore!”

 

               We pondered The Orb late into the night – or rather, I did, for snooping on old classmates proved to be too dull for dear Gobbo. She lay curled upon my lap like a cat, and I pet her absentmindedly with one hand as I revelled in the suffering of my hated class bully, Elaina. Yet I could only dwell upon the not-so-perfect elf for so long, and my attention drifted down to the plump goblin sleeping atop my thighs.

               She looked so peaceful slumbering in my lap. Usually she was hyper late into the night and resisted sleep, so it was a rare treat to have her snuggled and still like this. Only her chest was moving now, as it swelled and deflated with each slow breath. Even the ear sticking straight upwards no longer flinched as my hand pet her body. Her body felt plush and warm against my fingertips, and was covered in a healthy sheen green skin and fur.

               “You’ve grown so fat,” I whispered so as not to wake her. My free hand migrated to my round gut resting halfway across my lap. “So very, embarrassingly fat.”

               I really needed to slim myself down before my classmates learned of my predicament. Come spring, I would try everything in my power to become thin again, and if that failed, perhaps a small quest would be in order. There had to be someone out there who had mastered the cosmetic arts, some magically-slimming elixir that would give me my figure back, some undiscovered genie, some god or goddess I could pray to… someone, something, anything. All I knew for certain is that however I went about it, I would always have my greedy little Gobbo by my side.

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On 10/26/2022 at 1:58 AM, kellymac909 said:

I'm so sad that this is over! Honestly most days ended up with me in bed checking if there was a new chapter out and reading it them. Amazing story and I hope sometime in the future maybe we'll see more of Gobbo and Shroom in some capacity.

My next story happens to be about an orc warrior…

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