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>_< 0_0

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About >_< 0_0

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  • Birthday 01/10/1994
  • Location Woodbridge, VA, USA

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    Drawing, writing, reading, hiking, driving, video games, clubbing, drinking, history, philosophy, foreign policy, nuclear technology, military stuff -- and chicks.

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  1. Oh nooo, who could've seen this one coming? Chapter Seven It wasn’t until another week had passed before I noticed something amiss – not with Gobbo; the little rascal remained hidden as the bacon in her belly digested – but with me. It happened one pleasant morning. I stretched myself awake with the sun’s morning rays bathing me in a warm, orange glow, slipped out of bed, and began dressing for the day. I was already humming happily to myself, thinking of new pastries I could bake for lunch, not to mention brewing a couple bottles of common potions to sell in the village for once. Indeed, my life was improving in all respects. To have my day ruined was an impossibility – simply unthinkable. And that’s when I saw it. As I drew back the backstraps to my smock to tighten it across my front, a little bulge pressed against its middle. I paused immediately, not even daring to breathe as I stared down past my modest bosom at the unwelcome new feature on my body. A little mound of softness was making itself known, pressing softly around the edges of my navel like the bagels I’d been planning to make for supper. All at once, I felt my skin chill to the bone and my head grow faint. Could it be? Was it possible that I… but no. It couldn’t be! I, the Shroom Witch, ace student of alchemy, would never… Good gods and goddesses! How could I let this happen? I could grab a whole handful of my stomach! The fat was forming a tubby ring around my middle! How could I not notice? Had the elasticity of my lingerie and loose dresses betrayed me? Had a sedentary life in a mountain home reduced my metabolism so much? Had I overindulged in my own baking? No. No, surely not! But what, then? How was it possible to have grown so soft – and how soft, exactly? What if my buttocks jiggled with every step? What if my chin had grown soft? It was too difficult to tell just by pinching myself. I desperately needed a mirror. Such things were not necessarily an exotic luxury, but they were not common either. In any case, my personal appearance had never mattered to me enough to buy one. Such things were for the vain wives of merchants or perhaps a royal seamstress fitting a noblewoman’s ball gown directly to her body. No. I was not so self-absorbed as to need such a thing, not when I had more important matters to attend to and there was nothing about my figure to worry about – Until now. A new fear began to form within me: fear that the goblin would notice my chub before I could get rid of it. That must never happen! So I began to dress accordingly, abandoning my idle plans for baking and readying myself for a trek down the mountain to the village below. My pantry was filled with enchanted glass cans stocked by my mysterious predecessor. That meant she’d bought them nearby, and the villagers would surely know more. They better not notice my pudge. “Oi!” a peasant woman sprang to her feet from a field of tall grass like a curious elk. “Shroom is coming to see us!” The quiet little village came to life with the sound of several dozen gawkers. This time I did groan, but more because of the uncomfortable clothes I’d donned for the journey than anything. The trip down the mountain had been the first long journey I’d walked in weeks, and for the first time I began to truly notice the subtle changes of my body. For one, my brassiere was proving inadequate for the task of preventing too much bouncing in my chest. I wasn’t used to the sensation of my own breasts jostling against my chest like dunnage in a ship’s cargo hold, and was thoroughly sick of them already. But such discomfort paled in comparison to my utter hate and frustration with my own posterior, which was jiggling for the first time in my life, reminding me with every jump across stray logs and mud puddles that I desperately needed to diet. I could even feel its poofy flesh bulging from every corner of my panties, and I’d already paused twice to unwedge them. But now that I’d finally reached the village, surrounded by so many admirers, I had to do my utmost best to ensure my gain was as hidden and secret as the royal treasury. “My but aren’t you hot in all those layers, darling?” a woman asked innocently. “Fine, I’m fine,” I said quickly. “I’m quite alright, thank you.” “She’s positively sweltering in that scarf and winter coat!” an onlooker pointed at me. “Lookit the sweat beading ‘cross her brow!” “Oh, come off it Petey,” the man’s wife slapped his side with the back of her hand. “Shroom must know something she hasn’t told us.” “P’raps a mighty storm be coming? It’d be a shame since her growth potion got the harvest in its prime two moons early!” “She’s come to warn us, then!” “No, not that,” I pursed my lips and took pause to cool my frustration. “Do any of you know where I can find a glass smith?” Of course, the village was far to small to have any smith – much less a glass smith. Yet it was no time at all before the overly-helpful villagers had guided me to the tavern once more. It seemed I was fated to meet Brian the Baker once again. “Well, oh well,” he grinned. “You’ve come back! And here I was worrying you didn’t like the food I’d made after all.” “No, the food was quite delicious,” I blurted before realizing what I’d said. “Um…” “Why don’t you put your coat and hat on the rack and settle down for a drink or two?” “I can’t – I mean… that is, I need to buy a mirror.” “Well, then! It appears you’re in luck, for a traveling merchant stopped by not long after your last visit. I happened to purchase one of his larger mirrors for myself… what’s it worth to a beautiful little lady such as yourself?” “I’m not a little la – I mean… have you ever heard of maternity lotion?” “I have,” he began pouring beer into mugs. “I brought a gallon… we could trade it…” He finished pouring the beers and took a look at the large, corked jar of lotion I’d just pulled from my travelling purse and placed on his countertop. “I know a few around the village who would be appreciating a sampling of this soon,” he tapped the glass with a finger for emphasis. “And it’s useful for a great many more things than pregnant wives as well.” “That’s true.” “But it’s not quite worth a full-length mirror. Not quite.” “What, then?” “A few rounds of beer,” he said smoothly. “With me.” “O-oh…” I instinctively sucked my stomach in at the mere thought of filling it with anything. “Beer?” “You enjoyed it so much last time, remember?” he smiled innocently. “And it’s a nice tradition as well.” Drinking anything was not what I wanted in the slightest, but the more I thought of it, the more I realized how hot and thirsty I’d made myself traveling in my winter’s coat in the late summer heat, and how hungry I’d become not daring to eat a bite all day, and so it was that I took the mug in my hands and let Brian bump his own against it. “Just a couple…” I blushed as I prepared to take a sip.
  2. It might be a little surprising, but I never had much of a thing for stuffing because I like girls being comfortable when they eat. Today however... today is the exception. It is time for a proper stuffing chapter! Chapter Six First the baking, next the grilling. I’d delayed cooking any of my newly-purchased meat because I wanted to perfect my baking before trying simpler arts. At least, that’s what I told myself. In truth, it was because I hadn’t a taste for cooked meat. The servings I’d tried at the academy were never quite fresh, and were either too stringy or too greasy for my sensitive stomach. But a month had passed already, and my stash of flour was getting low, so there was nothing to it but to grill. So it was that I woke to the sound of morning birds, made myself ready by sunrise, and made my way to my larder. It was a small, half-buried chamber beneath the house, entered through a tightly-locked hatch from the outside. When I’d first discovered the room, it had been nothing but a dirty hovel filled with old webs and half-gnawed chicken bones suspiciously littered around the edges. Still, I barely had to stoop to fit my diminutive frame inside, and my enchanted instruments made quick work of the clutter. A few freezing spells were all it took to transform the dirty den into a larder fit for a nobleman. I looked about the larder now, surrounded by hanging meats chilled by enchanted mist wafting permanently down from the rafters above. The raw flesh sparkled and glittered as the morning light touched it from behind me. Beef sirloin, flank of pork (Brian had insisted this was the best part), five whole chickens, some samplings of river-fish caught upstream of the village, and a couple hares were what I had to choose from. It was quite a selection… but I would choose the pork for today. After all, it seemed the fattiest of the selection… “Cut into strips…” I muttered to myself for the fifth time. “…then lay across the grill…” I was busy at work in the kitchen, doing my best to follow Brian’s cookbook to the letter and make “bacon.” The method appeared simple enough, and it certainly didn’t seem as if I’d spoiled it if the amazing smell wafting through the house meant anything. Astoundingly rich – overwhelmingly rich. I’d never been more sure that untested food would taste delicious. Perhaps it was time to taste a sample? I gave my freshest batch of bacon strips a curious look. I’d been using three grills to hasten my cooking, one to rest over the fire, one to lay new strips upon, and a third to lay upon the table to cool. That final grill had stopped sizzling, in fact. I could certainly taste one – I still had to eat, after all. So I took hold of a bacon strip in my delicate hand. It was so brittle, nearly half of it snapped at my touch. It made me worry I’d overcooked them, but then I took a bite and a moan of delight escaped my lips. The bacon was still hot – it bit me as hard as I bit it – yet its taste was unlike anything I had ever had in my life! It was as delicious as its overwhelming smell promised and more! Such a perfect blend of meat and fat had never been experienced before. To think that such an ugly beast could be so… perfect! Gobbo would surely gobble these up. A sudden crunch of wood followed by a muffled thump and a panicked yelp startled me from my thoughts. I twisted ‘round with a spring in my step to find none other than the goblin thief herself tumbled in a heap of rotted wood and plaster on my rocking chair. She groaned with discomfort, but not pain. Apparently the chair’s thick cushions had broken her fall. “Oomph,” the goblin stared upwards at a small hole in my rafters. “What happun…” “Gobbo,” I lay my hands on my hips. She gawked at me in utter shock, gasping that I could be so close. For a single heartbeat, she was too petrified to move, until finally springing to action, desperately flailing every limb to escape as I sprang forward and reached out – “Got you!” I cried triumphantly. “Get off! Off!” Gobbo kicked her stubby legs in vain as I held her at arms’ length from me. “I’ll bite you! I’ll knot your hair!” Her empty threats made me cackle with delight, for I had caught the pesky varmint at last, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to escape. My hands were gripped firmly about her waist, and I noted how plump and soft its sides were growing with no lack of satisfaction. Satisfying, also, was her round, doubly-orbed backside and stocky thighs. But now that I had her, what was I to do? I could toss her out the window, but I knew she would find a way inside easily enough. I did want to exact punishment for the Big Hat incident. Perhaps a proper thrashing of her plump cheeks was called for? Perhaps… but not quite clever enough to make us even. I desired a more satisfying punishment – and I was beginning to realize exactly what it was. “My, my aren’t you a greedy little goblin,” I chuckled. “What were you doing up there? Plotting to steal my bacon, were you?” “No…” Gobbo answered softly, ears drooping to her sides. “Now, now, don’t lie,” I began turning back to the table. “I’ve seen my sweets going missing; I’ve heard the broom busy sweeping your dirty crumbs off the floor. You’ve taken quite a liking to my cooking, haven’t you?” “W-what are you doing? Where are we going?” Gobbo’s high-pitched voice rose to a squeak as we passed the empty cauldron towards the table. “Simple,” I placed her gently upon the chair at the head of the table. “If you love my cooking so much, well, it seems only fitting that as punishment you’ll finish eating what I’ve made. After all, it’s never proper to waste food.” “Never!” Gobbo shook her fists defiantly and kicked her feet – only to realize that her legs wouldn’t move. “Uh?” she rocked side to side with mounting panic, but her legs never budged an inch. “What is… you witch! You glued my ass!” “Oh, I’m afraid it’s not so simple,” I purred with satisfaction as I pulled a thick book from my shelf and lifted the goblin to place her upon it. “See? Why don’t you sit on this? A little boost to help you reach over the table.” “My legs!” she cried. “My legs!” “Oh, stop it. Your legs aren’t hurt in the least. I merely enchanted them as I did the rest of the tools in the house. They are mine to command now – and I command them not to leap from that table till you’ve finished your breakfast!” “No,” she squirmed desperately. “No, I don’t want it!” “But you do,” I grinned. “Why else were you spying in the kitchen? I bet you couldn’t resist the first whiff of my bacon strips. Well?” “I was a little curious, but I don’t want it anymore! It’s smelly!” “That’s too bad – because the spell holding your legs won’t be broken till you finish your food.” As I’d been speaking, I’d loaded the first batch of bacon onto a plate. I placed them before her now: a dozen smoking, crispy strips. “Eat up,” I scratched one of her ears (which swatted furiously back like a cat’s). “Got to make room; there’s plenty more…” She caught sight of the meat left to be cut and cooked – ten pounds of pork the size of her head – and despaired. “Noooo!” she moaned. “Yessss,” I purred. With a strip between my thumb and fingers, I fed the first bite into the goblin’s mouth and beamed with delight as she began to chew. She closed her eyes, refusing to look in mine, and with a sniff resigned herself to pawing her hands over the remaining strips and gnawing them. So began my greatest cooking session yet, cutting raw pork, laying it upon my grills and feeding it into the flames whilst pulling more back out and letting it cool. All the while, Gobbo resigned herself to chewing, making surprisingly-quick work of the delicious strips, yet still struggling to free herself from time to time. All for naught, of course. She ate her bacon just the same. Plate by plate, the little goblin dutifully chewed her way to freedom, glowering indignantly as I piled fresh bacon for her to eat. The head-sized slab of pork was steadily whittled-down like a sculptor’s rock. It wasn’t until it was half gone before she mustered the courage to speak again. “You think it’s funny?” she muttered as she chewed with her mouth open. “You’re really going to try eating me? Gonna throw me in a stew? Well, you won’t do it! You won’t want to! I’m too soiled and dirty!” I couldn’t help but laugh – it was rather comical. “Me? Brew goblin stew? Never! Bacon tastes far better don’t you think?” To prove my point, I sampled a bit of bacon myself. It was delicious, and far too much so to be wasted on my prank. I hadn’t even eaten my own breakfast! Of course I’d partake in it. Regardless, Gobbo stared incredulously at me, perhaps letting me whittle down her enormous share of the food before swallowing her mouthful and defiantly stiffening her chin. “Then… you can eat some,” she straightened herself as much as a short humanoid could. “I’ve had too much already – no way I can eat any more. I’m stuffed.” “Stuffed?” I grinned with a strip of bacon snapping between my teeth with a satisfying crunch. “Stuffed? You think I hadn’t planned for that?” Gobbo’s ears lowered, betraying her fright. “What… but, I can’t! There’s too much!” “Perhaps you noticed the butter dripping off your bacon?” I pointed at her plate. “I’m afraid it’s not butter.” “Not butter? I can’t believe it! I watched you make it! I mean uh…” “Yes. Mostly butter, but mixed with a very special salve,” I leaned by the fireplace and tapped a half-empty bottle atop the shelf hanging over it. “This is maternity lotion – a magical substance for expecting mothers. It prevents unsightly stretchmarks, you see.” “Witch!” Gobbo screamed as she gripped the table’s edge with both hands. “Sorceress!” “Yes,” I smiled. “The lotion is coating your stomach from within. It will let your belly stretch and grow quite round indeed – enough to let you finish your food without any trouble whatsoever. Now then, enough talk. You have plenty more to eat.” Now that Gobbo was aware of the lotion, she was acutely aware of how swollen her belly was getting, and wouldn’t stop moaning unpleasantly as she felt it grow with every bite. I sighed and did my best to ignore her. It spoiled some of the fun telling her about the lotion, but not enough to make me stop giving the goblin her just desserts. I toiled onwards, stacking bacon onto her plate as she grabbed a stick in each hand, making theatrics of the whole thing. All the while, her belly continued to round itself out, resting heavily atop her lap and expanding in all directions, akin to a ripe lime – better yet, a ripening watermelon. I couldn’t help but stare at my handiwork with satisfaction as I would any plant in my immaculate garden. Truly, I had a green thumb. The slab of pork slimmed away slice by slice, till it was gone at last. My morning of grilling bacon was nearly over. With the last batch cooked, I let the fire diminish to a simmer, and moved the last slices to that fateful plate. I sat myself across the table from my captive guest, smiling innocently at her with my hands cradling my head. She glared back, still chewing. “I hadn’t thought of it,” I plucked a bacon strip of my own from the half-finished final plate. “But I just realized even though your belly can stretch round as a pumpkin, you probably aren’t hungry anymore…” “So full…” Gobbo groaned, putting up a pitiful front. “Ah-ah… manners,” I nipped at the corner of my bacon. “You must finish your last bites.” “Too full… can’t eat…” “You know, if I eat too many of these, who knows if the spell holding your legs will –” Gobbo shovelled the last of the bacon into her mouth with shocking speed. Before I could say a word, she munched what looked like three mouthfuls at once and swallowed a visible wad of it down her neck. “Ah, of course,” I said idly. “The maternity lotion is all over your mouth and throat as well…” “Ha!” Gobbo bounced giddily on her seat. “My legs! I have my legs back –” Thmp. “Oh,” I peeked under the table. “Careful now… you’re a lot rounder and heavier than you were. The goblin had fallen to the floor with a splat of her round gut. Fortunately, the semi-elastic dome of her belly had protected her from injury, and she was already springing clumsily to her feet cradling her bulge with both hands. “Now let that be a lesson to you!” I called after her as she scurried madly around the nearest corner. “Well then…” I smoothed the front of my smock. “Time to make a breakfast of my own.”
  3. Took a small break over the weekend because I did overtime, but now it's time for Shroom vs Gobbo again Chapter Five It may be surprising, but I had never taken myself to baking before. The art of making food was a time-consuming habit fit for common townsmen and their wives while I, a student of the magical arts, was far too busy to indulge in such a hobby. I’d barely considered food as anything more than fuel as I studied my tomes and brewed my potions hours into the night. Things were different now. There were no exams to cram for, no annoying classmates preparing to prank me, nor even the bustle of academy life to distract me. I could devote an entire day to baking if I so wished, and as I delved into the craft, I wondered why I hadn’t done so sooner. Baking. I smiled to myself as I carefully removed fresh buns from the fireplace. Was there anything in this world so similar to my first love, alchemy? So similar, in fact, that every skill I’d gained from one translated seamlessly into the other. Cutting sticks of butter was like slicing taproot, mixing spices and honey into my creations was as simple as mixing any magical ingredients, and the baker’s cookbook was no harder to read than my personal spellbooks. So I’d devoted myself to baking. Learning how to turn flour into dough was simple enough, and once I’d perfected that, the rest came naturally. Day by day, my collection of breads grew, from a humble stack of breadsticks, to a basket of muffins, loaves, and cinnamon buns. It was more than I could hope to eat alone, but then again, that was the point of all this. Gobbo was sampling my treats from the very beginning. At first she was ripping dough from my batches whenever I turned my back more than a few moments, but that stopped almost immediately when she caught that first whiff of baked bread. From that day on, my baking went unhindered, all the better for her to snitch fresh goods. No doubt Gobbo thought she was clever enough to not arouse suspicion from me, the little thief, but I had a keen eye and a keener mind. I knew exactly how many rolls and muffins I’d made, and could clearly see each missing item. Stray crumbs were all over the house. I could almost tell where the goblin was by the sound of my enchanted broom sweeping her messes off the floor, though she no doubt had learned how to avoid the broom long enough to enjoy herself – but that wasn’t important. The pest was well-fed, and it was time to accelerate my plans for her. Now that I’d perfected the art of baking and gotten the goblin hooked on my delicacies, it was time to discern what treats she liked the most. The breadsticks were the first of my goods to start vanishing, but they were long and rather tough to bite into for such a small humanoid as her. As soon as I started making small, softer delicacies, the breadsticks were ignored. For now, her favourite treat was cinnamon buns. They were my first attempt at using icing in my baking, and the sweet, dripping liquid spread over my sumptuous buns was clearly a smash hit. In fact, it seemed they were so delicious that they disappeared faster than my other goods. Apparently, the goblin cared more about getting her cinnamon bun fix than covering her tracks. How sloppy of her. I was making a second batch of cinnamon buns that very moment, in fact. As I’d mentioned earlier, I’d just pulled them from my fireplace and set them on the windowsill so they could cool enough for me to spread the icing over them. I wasn’t afraid of Gobbo stealing any before they were ready; she knew they’d be doubly-delicious with the icing than without, and would wait for me to put the finishing touches upon them. I smirked as I leafed through my cookbook and studied the copious notes I’d written into the margins. My little green nemesis was certain to enjoy my latest creation. I’d tinkered with the standard recipe and improved it with an extra stick of rich, fattening butter she would no doubt find irresistible. I read a few pages of the cookbook, idly imagining what other delicacies I could create when a gentle breeze from the open window reminded me not to forget icing the cinnamon buns resting within it. I closed the book with a merry hum and readied the butter knife and the jar of icing. That’s when I spotted her in the garden: Gobbo lay resting in the bare patch of dirt she enjoyed playing in, reclining on her side with a croissant in her palm like a miniature queen. I gasped at the sight, for I hadn’t caught sight of her since the bucket incident. The goblin had her back to me as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Wasn’t she wary of been seen by me? Yet despite my initial shock, I couldn’t help but admire my handiwork beginning to take its toll on the little goblin. Gone were the dark splotches plaguing her pale, green skin, replaced with a healthy hue of green like a patch of freshly-sprouted grass. Gone also were the lanky, malnourished limbs, all signs of bone padded with soft flesh with a hint of muscle within. Gobbo had gained quite rapidly in only a few weeks. Ironically, it seemed to have done some good for her health. Gobbo must have heard me somehow, for she glanced over her shoulder at me, mouth full of croissant. We stared across the garden at each other, neither speaking or moving much. I watched her slowly chewing with her mouth open, utterly lacking in table manners, before swallowing and returning her full attention to what was left of “her” food. With her back turned to me, she lifted her free arm and gave her ass a resounding smack. I smiled at the sight, for I couldn’t be more pleased. Gobbo thought herself to have the advantage. She thought herself to be the true master of this dwelling, feasting upon my culinary creations with impunity like a highway robber collecting extortions from hapless travellers. She thought she was winning the fight against me, but I knew better – and the evidence was in the very cheeks she’d slapped to assert dominance. Rounded and juicy. Firm yet plump. Just like these cinnamon buns… And I hadn’t even started with the meats yet…
  4. Lydia took a peek in Kyra’s direction… (Rolled WILLPOWER: 41, FAIL) … but her view was blocked by the enormous, truly massive three-story cake looming before her. ”Ohhhh gawds,” Lydia gasped. “Ohh what is is this… it’s almost as tall as me! What doya mean we have to eat these to get in the gate? My stomach is not that big!” ”It doesn’t have to be,” a cute succubus sitting on her left thigh purred and stroked her blonde hair. “Why don’t you take a slice? Each bite will make it easier.” “Where’s my coffee?” Lydia looked around the table at all the gluttony taking place. “It was right here! Who’s drinking my drink? Kyra? Can you see my drink? I can’t see you past this massive, mountain of dessert.” ”Have some,” the succubus ran her fingers deep through the roots of the bard’s hair. The touch of her firm fingers against her scalp as they parted locks to let the breeze kiss her skin was surprisingly soothing. It was as if the demonic woman knew exactly how to calm her thoughts. Buttons were being pushed Lydia had no idea she had. And she gave in without saying she was. ”You want some?” Lydia asked as she readied the first fateful slice of cake. “It’s weird if you sit in my lap without, like, having any…” ”I’m a succubus,” said the succubus. “Believe me: nothing is too strange for me.” (Rolled 1d20+15: 33 pounds) The slice of cake was the most sumptuous and delicious Lydia had ever tasted. Every bite was the texture and moisture of a rain cloud, yet singed her mouth with rich flavors that made her gasp. It was as easy to slip through her lips as it was desirable to do so again and again, the perfect combination for idle binging. And the consequences immediately began to be felt. Not more than a couple bites had made their way into the bard’s soft pooch that she began to feel her pant legs growing tighter. Already tight, they began constricting every square inch of her cushiony thighs, and the seam running across her loins began to pinch. Her little pooch, overshadowed by her plump posterior and eye-popping breasts, swelled more than a few bites would warrant, and rolled softly over the sides of her trousers. It was uncomfortable, to say the least — which was why Lydia lay her fork on her plate as soon as it was cleaned. “Ooh,” she leaned back and groaned. “All that from one slice? I can’t…” In response, her succubus friend lay a gentle hand on the laces holding-in her swollen pooch and began to unlace them. “Don’t worry my pet,” she purred as she tugged the loosened trousers down and pulled the belly within them out. “It will be easy enough if we let your skin breathe.” ”Please,” Lydia moaned. “If my booty gets any bigger I’ll break the chair’s armrests.” The succubus stole a mischievous look behind the bard and grinned. “You still have six inches of spare room before we have to worry about that — but I’ve got a secret to tell you.” “What?” Smirking, the succubus leaned towards her ear, so close that her lips were teasing her lobes. “I like your butt and I would like to see it grow so big it breaks the chair.” ”R-really?” Lydia blushed from such attention, and the proposal was so radical, it sparked excitement deep within her. It was wrong… so why did it feel so right? ”I love sitting on your lap,” the succubus whispered, tongue teasing her ear. “I love how soft and squishy it’s getting.” (Rolled INTELLIGENCE: 48, FAIL) ”I love you too,” Lydia hugged her manipulator’s firm, narrow waist. “You have abs… I really love abs. My friend Roxanne has abs.” ”Yes she does,” the succubus glanced briefly across the table before moving to cut another slice of cake. ”You know, I’m pretty excited to learn what’s behind the door,” Lydia rambled, unaware of the succubus nudging a loaded plate closer to her. “Like, what’s behind it, do you know? I hope you get to come with us — we could travel together! There’s this tavern nearby that I’ve really been looking forward to crashing — well, I think it’s nearby. Technically I don’t know where we are —“ “Here,” the succubus nudged the plate softly into her breasts. “Have some more.” “Sure, uh… where was I? Oh yeah! The tavern. I’m trying to think how we can sneak you in. I got my cosmetics in my purse, so I can give you a little glo-up…” ”I have a better idea,” the succubus placed the fork back into Lydia’s hand. “You hush for a time. Enjoy a little slice of cake while I rub your beautiful belly and make sure it’s comfortable.” ”Yass girl!” Lydia hummed as she took another bite of cake. “Just don’t let me forget what I was thinking — I forget all the time.” ”You won’t forget if you think of me,” the succubus kissed her cheek and nipped the edge of her ear. (Rolled 1d20+15: 35 pounds) So the bard idly ate her second slice of cake, reveling in the soothing embrace of the succubus, who loosed and parted the clothes off her growing body with frighteningly smooth expertise. Such finesse was done that Lydia barely felt the pinch of her clothes at all. Buttons were parted before the swelling mounds of her breasts could rise through the gap above, lace was pried-free leaving room for her belly to grow and rest gently upon her thighs, love-handles were lifted out from under clothes to let them rest on her sides, and arms were massaged as they filled their sleeves. All the while, Lydia’s plump ass grew ripe and rounded. Like a prize pumpkin, it’s growth had it rubbing against the seat and pressing against the sides. It was more horse-like than human with each passing minute, and fat as a cow’s hind. So smooth was the transformation from plump to obese, Lydia hardly noticed the seams of her trousers had given way long ago. Indeed, she’d have grown fatter still if not for her endless talking between every bite. (Lydia has gained 68 pounds for a total of 308 🥵)
  5. Got caught by a surprise double-shift and didn't get home until now, but that just means this chapter's extra long. Chapter Four The village itself was so small, it didn’t even have a name – well, I suppose it did, but I hadn’t bothered remembering it. It was just another loose knot of a couple dozen wooden buildings clustered on either side of a dirt road barely fit for a ride on horseback – much less a carriage. That’s right: one dirt road. It didn’t even thread all the way through, merely ending somewhere between the tavern and the inn. This truly was the end of the road. That might explain the excitement caused when they spotted me easing my way down the mountainside from the cover of the forest. “Petie!” a peasant woman called across an entire field of goats. “Petie, come quick! The witch has come to see us!” That got the whole village’s attention. They all started coming out of their dwellings, dropping whatever menial tasks they were busying themselves with to gawk at me and my big hat. I resisted the urge to groan and roll my eyes, for I needed to barter a good bargain. “Hello… people…” I suddenly remembered I wasn’t good at class presentations or any public speeches whatsoever. “Is there a baker amongst you?” The few dozen peasants gawking at me didn’t seem to notice my bashfulness, but helpfully guided me to the inn with doting hands. “Aye, she be needin’ a bite to eat, I reckon,” a strong farmer herded me forwards with a gentle, yet firm prodding of his thick fingers against my back. “And a good strong drink, perhaps?” said another, reaching for my free hand. “What happens to be your name, lass?” asked a third, smiling with a toothgap wide enough to fit my finger through. “I’m not a lass,” I replied. “And witches keep their names secret, else they be woven into curses – but you can call me… uh…” The crowd silenced itself, eager to learn my name. Here was my chance to shed my old reputation, to have a name renowned and held in high esteem. It had to be a good one… but what, exactly? “I’d heard tell from the messenger last month you were known as Shroom or some such?” Fuck it. “Shroom. Yes. I’m called Shroom.” So we entered the tavern – me and a whole village of insufferable simpletons. I suppose they couldn’t help but be in awe of a magic-wielding witch such as myself – especially when they were so unused to visitors in the first place – but something told me they were more interested in my youthful figure. I saw plenty of the younger ones eyeing me with bated breath. A pity that I had no interest in them. Truly a pity. The tavern was spacious enough for such a small village – no doubt they all gathered here nightly. The tavernkeep was a sprightly young ginger churning butter behind the serving counter. Sausages hung from the walls like festival ornaments, and fresh breads and cheeses lined the walls behind him. For the first time that day, I smiled, for I was in the right place, at last. “Well, good to see you, good to see you!” the tavernkeep grinned. “I’m Brian the Baker.” “And this here’s Shroom,” a villager slapped my shoulder. “She’s a witch, by the way.” “Serve us a round of drink!” said another. “Actually…” I tried to speak over the commotion. “I’m here to make a trade…” “We can talk about it over a mug,” Brian set multiple such mugs on the counter. “The ladies drink free today!” “That won’t be necess –“ I paused as the tavern erupted in cheers. “That is… I want to bargain.” “Good, very good,” Brian’s voice was as smooth as the beer he was pouring into the mug before me. “What coin have you got for bargaining?” “I have this,” I reached into my traveling purse and withdrew a large, corked bottle filled with growth potion. “This will help your crops and livestock grow.” “I’m familiar with it,” Brian chuckled. “Good gods, lass!” the peasant next to me gawked at my purse. “How did you fit that into there? It’s huge!” “It’s just an inventory spell,” I snapped. “Leave the poor girl alone; she’s talking to me!” Brian waved him off. “So!” he leaned close. “A gallon of growing potion?” I could grow my flowerbed with this much – maybe the hedges as well.” “But this is far more potent – at least triple the strength of whatever you’ve seen. A dose of this will grow wheat an inch a day until it wears-off.” Brian had uncorked the bottle for a whiff before sneezing and corking it again. “Truly… worth a small fortune, this is…” “In food,” I clasped my hands for emphasis. “I’d like to be paid in food because I can only grow so much myself.” “What kind of food?” “Meats and breads, milk, cheese, butter – lots of butter – and, oh yes, any desserts you know how to make.” “But how do you reckon you’ll be hauling this back up your mountain path?” “Nothing inventory and featherweight spells can’t handle,” I smiled and gave my traveling purse a pat. “Then it’s settled!” Brian raised his mug. “We’ll toast to it!” “But –” Too late, the tavern erupted in cheers once more. Everyone had their mugs raised for the occasion. Damned peer pressure. “Well, alright,” I raised my mug. “But only one…” “Uhn…” I stumbled my way back to the garden in front of my house. “What was in those drinks? No way it was just beer…” The journey home had been long and perilous, filled with uncounted potholes, stray logs, and slippery rocks. It was a small wonder that I made it without falling stupidly on my drunken face, but at least I had what I needed: a couple dozen pounds of rich, fattening food safely tucked away into my enchanted purse. Gobbo would never know what hit her waistline. At last, I was wiping my tired feet against the doormat of my house, opening the door and stepping inside for – Splash. Water doused my face. My big hat knocked off my head. A loud clattering as my laundry bucket fell to the floor. Light titters and cackling from just out of sight. “Damn it, Gobbo!” I huffed. “Fuck!” She’d gotten me good this time. The water had me thoroughly soaked. I’d have to strip and hang my clothes out to dry before I started baking. It was with a heavy sigh that I stood outside in the cool mountain air and began peeling my cold, wet clothes off of my clammy skin. “Grit your teeth and bear it,” I muttered as my fingers shivered against the damp cloth. “You’ll be warmer with all this off your shoulders, and there’s fresh firewood inside.” First to go was my big hat, of course. A breeze instantly brushed the loose braid of my long, black hair, and I shivered at its unwelcome touch. I needed to finish with this quickly. Next, the smock, followed by my traveling dress were unceremoniously pulled overhead and hung on the clothesline. Wind was blowing directly against my pale skin now, and goosebumps rippled over the top of my breasts and across my flat stomach. Well… mostly flat. That Baker had bought me more than a few beers, all churning and rumbling in my stomach. I couldn’t help but rub the taut skin and hope I belched some of the bloat into the wind – but that would be too much to ask, apparently. “Huh…” I let a deep breath escape my lips. “The lingerie’s damp. They’ll have to go too.” Of course I had proper lingerie. All witches did. To wield magic was a boon to many comforts of the flesh, including the very clothes we wore, and it wasn’t uncommon for academy students to take part-time jobs enchanting our wardrobes. Any self-respecting magic wielder wore fabric that could stretch and fit the very form of the body it clothed – and they did more than clothe. They cradled the very flesh, providing support and comfort in equal measure. My lingerie was modest, but no less impressive. A brassiere wrapped around my slender shoulders and under my arms to cup around my breasts, preventing uncomfortable amounts of jostling yet allowing enough room for their skin to breathe. Panties hugged firmly around my waist and hips beneath a girdle that pulled my stockings tightly up my slender thighs. All were a matching, vibrant blue – my favourite colour. “Right,” I reached back and undid the clasp on my back. “Just get it over with…” My fist-sized breasts were no match for the mountain weather; the nipples instantly hardening as my very breath began to rattle. I braced for a similar chill for when I finally slipped from the panties when I heard a suspicious rustling behind my protruding rear. “Gobbo!” I screamed. Too late, I turned to face my foe, only to see my big hat scurrying away with little goblin feet! “This is the last straw!” I dashed after my hat, cold air burning the inside of my chest. “When I catch you I’ll –” The prank was over as suddenly as it began. My big hat lay resting in a patch of weeds just around the corner of the house. I plucked it and placed it on my head quickly, wary of losing it again. “I thought you’d know better than to touch a witch’s hat,” I said slowly, eyes tracing the tall grass. “Don’t you know what dangerous magic is trapped within –” Ping. I yelped and clasped my stinging left cheek. Weeds rustled violently as the goblin made her escape. Did she just… throw a pebble at my rump? “Don’t you dare touch my clothes!” my voice echoed against the mountain crags beyond. “If you so much as lay a finger on them you’ll – you’ll burst into flames!” Empty threats, but Gobbo knew no better. I’d had enough with the outdoors anyway. I was going to start a fire and warm my bare skin by its side as I read a book – and after that I would cook and bake until the stars shone bright.
  6. At this rate I can finish the whole story before Silv comes back Chapter Three The growth potion was ready at long last. After constant mixing, grinding, and mixing again, it was so strong I could feel the inside of my nostrils tingling from its potent fumes. It was so concentrated, I didn’t dare taste-testing it for quality, else I’d suffer a sharpened appetite that would keep me twisting in bed all night. The hot, churning brew in my cauldron was a simple yet effective potion commonly used for crops and livestock alike. Once cooled, it could be poured in fields like water. Plants moistened by its touch could grow a season’s worth of height in a mere month, and animals drinking it would fatten-up so long as given enough real food to eat – as would Gobbo, so long as she actually drank some. That last thought gave me pause. How would I trick that wily Goblin to drink what looked and tasted like a potion? How indeed… the drink was strong enough to make my eyes water; I did drop several leaves of mint into it… I would have to mix it in with some real food without ruining the taste, and I had to leave it out for her to snatch without making it obvious that’s what I wanted her to do. I spent enough time plotting for me to turn my hourglass twice as I sat on my soft, cushioned chair by the fire. The fire itself was dimming as I let the cauldron above cool to a steaming simmer. The fresh smell of mints permeated every spare inch of the house. Gobbo surely knew I was “cooking” at this point. She might even be watching me now, hatching her own plan to steal a bowl of my “soup” (one of my bowls went missing four days ago). I sprang to my feet. “That’s it!” I said excitedly. “Soup!” Soup was the perfect front for my recent actions. Gobbo hadn’t seen me brew potions yet, and she assumed witches used wands for all their spellcasting, so I knew she suspected nothing as I placed the cooled cauldron on the kitchen table and went to the pantry to fetch potatoes to slice and drop into the “stew.” To my surprise, she was standing atop the table when I returned. How bold of her to stand before me like that! Still… I could work with this. “Gobbo,” I feigned undignified shock. “First you sneak and steal my things and now you’re standing –” “Not so fast!” Gobbo darted behind the cauldron for cover and wrapped her arms around it. “No funny business! I can spill the soup!” “My soup!” I covered my mouth to hide my bemusement. “You wouldn’t dare.” “I can do it!” Gobbo grunted and shifted the heavy object half an inch to prove her point. “You think you’ve outsmarted me?” I grinned. “I’ve noticed you filching my snacks when I leave them for too long. So you have a taste for my cooking, do you? Well, you’re going to learn today – because this time I added some spice to it.” Gobbo’s right ear twitched, which I’d learned was a tell that she was excited to unleash some sort of mischief. “Spice?” she asked. “Be careful, it’s hot,” I smirked. “And I haven’t added the potatoes, so it isn’t even –” “Hot? Spice! I’m a desert goblin! I am the hot!” And without any prompting from me, she took a deep breath and dunked her face into the growth potion with a messy splash. The cauldron was so big, she had to stand on her toes and lean her whole body to keep slurping. I dared not laugh, for her ears were flexed back behind her half-submerged head, but I did grin maniacally. She’d really fallen for it. “Gah!” she emerged for breath after a minute of guzzling, wiping her mouth and nose with her palm. “See?” “You ruined it!” I cried as she leapt from the table and darted into another room. “You ruined my soup! Now I have to dump it in the garden and start all over!” It was all I could do to keep myself from bursting into laughter. This was easily the greatest trick I had ever pulled. Four years of endless academy pranks and suffering had been made up for in a single afternoon! And this was just the beginning. The next few days passed slowly, all the more-so because my senses were primed for evidence of my hard work bearing fruit. My greedy goblin pest remained safely out of sight, but she was a goblin and prone to making messes. Evidence of her activities littered corners everywhere: spoons and bowls on the floor, a fork sticking from an apple in the pantry, a burst watermelon covered in bite marks left by the back door. The evidence was clear: Gobbo’s appetite for stolen treats had grown, my growth potion was working its magic. But it wasn’t enough just to let her snack fruits and vegetables from my pantry. Such food wasn’t fit for a growing goblin! She deserved finer, juicier delicacies. She deserved baked treats and meats, and I was going to buy some just for her. So it was that I went to bed, staring excitedly at the rafters above as I absentmindedly rubbed my thighs against each other. Tomorrow I would wake before dawn and hike down the mountain to pay the villagers a visit. It was time to build a personal stock of meat and dairy.
  7. I'm back with the second chapter! These are quick to write because they're shorter and have less lore to juggle around. Next chapter should be up tomorrow as well. Chapter Two That night, I stirred restlessly in my twin-size bed. The bed was not uncomfortable – far from it! The sheets were finely-woven silk dyed crimson red, and the mattress was enchanted to be filled with air. Truly, it was like sleeping atop clouds. Yet I kept waking to creaks in the night, wondering if it really was trees swaying in the wind or Gobbo returning to reclaim “her” house. But my worries were for naught. There was no sign of the desert goblin that night, nor the next, or even the next thereafter. I was soon chiding myself for my anxiety – to think that I, a fully-trained witch and grown woman, could be so easily startled by a two-foot goblin! If she so much as tried to slip under my skirt again, I’d punt her through the nearest open window – no magic required. So I set myself with tidying my new dwelling, enchanting a broom to sweep the filthy floor, an axe to chop a fallen log for firewood I’d haul inside for the fire later, and a duster to polish every remaining surface and banish the spiders. Such enchantments were difficult to choreograph correctly, but it was worth doing so that I’d never have to lay a finger on the peasant tools again. Still, it was quite draining on my mana to cast so many spells, so I settled into a little afternoon ritual of drinking tea to replenish myself. It was in the midst of such a ritual that I heard a panicked screech and a violent clatter. “Oh, fucks sake,” I cursed as hot tea spilled across my chest and dripped into my cleavage. I scrambled to my feet and hurried across the house. The noise had come from the pantry, a small nook stuffed with canned food and sacks of flour that were the perfect size for a raccoon to hide behind – or a goblin. I found the pantry door ajar. Inside, a can of peaches had tumbled to the floor – and my duster lay by its side, snapped in twain. I groaned at the sight of it. To think that I was about to relax from spellcasting for the day. Now I had to mend the duster. I plucked the canned peaches from the floor. At least that hadn’t shattered. No doubt the last witch knew a little something about enchanted glass-smithing. Impressive. This household of mine never ceased to surprise me. And it surprised me at the most inopportune moments! When I returned to my tea cup, I found it completely drained. A suspicious note had been placed beneath it, stained with tea, and splotched with my most expensive ink. Niss try! The note read in abhorrent chicken-scratch lines. No won is fast as GOB – The goblin’s name – written proudly in extra-large letters – remained unfinished as she’d no-doubt heard me returning. Alas. “Damn it,” I muttered. “She’s stolen my quill…” It was a game of cat and mouse – witch and goblin. A battle of wits and cleverness. Unfortunately, I was nearing the end of my wits, and the goblin was a cunning foe. Gobbo was indeed a clever one. Despite barring the doors and windows every night, she still found a way in every day. I knew she was getting inside because things kept happening. Yesterday, a plate goes missing. Today, my freshly-baked breadstick. Tomorrow? Only time would tell. And within a whole week, I had only heard her pattering thrice, and seen her but once. She’d learned the enchanted tools weren’t after her so she hadn’t broken any (thank the good gods), but it was only a matter of time before she did something truly detestable to try and make me leave. I sighed as I stirred the boiling concoction in my cauldron for the fifth time. I had to find a way to shut that goblin out for good, but how was I supposed to do that when I could barely catch sight of her? I didn’t even know how she was getting in every night. In the meantime, I resorted to alchemy. Alchemy. The most relaxing of the magical arts. I always resorted to it to de-stress. The mere whiff of a potion’s aroma was enough to relax my mind and loosen the knots in my back and shoulders. Hours of potion-making was what made me so good at it. Today, I was brewing a growth potion. It was simple enough to make, only a light mixing of ground ingredients set to boil for a time. Just a couple more turns of the hourglass, and I would be able to pour it over the garden for my hungry herbs. As it cooled, I collected a light sampling with my ladle and took a sip. Earthy texture… a slight tingling on my lips, but not quite enough kick to it. Another pinch of mint should do it. So I got to my feet and made my way to the kitchen counter, looking for my mortar and pestle where I’d been grinding the mint leaves in preparation. The sun was shining warmly outdoors, so I’d left the shutters open to let natural light into the room while I worked. But as I passed the window, I saw something that made me freeze: a pair of long ears poking from the grass just outside. It was Gobbo, of course. No doubt, she thought she was well-hidden – and she would be if not for the ears. Once I caught sight of her, the trace of her body was easy enough to see: crouched on all fours with her back turned to me, creeping with barely-controlled excitement towards a pair of black-capped chickadees chirping as they hopped on a patch of bare Earth. I could’ve moved for her. I could’ve tried casting a spell or bolting for the door, but I knew the noise I’d make would’ve had the goblin sprinting for cover before I could stop her. So I watched from the window, watching Gobbo’s ass cheeks parting the grass as she readied her attack. She got halfway across the yard before the birds sensed her presence. The game was up. Gobbo sprang her ambush early, pouncing an impressive three feet into the air as she clawed at the escaping prey, but her hands swiped thin air, and she tumbled back to earth with an unplanned backflip. The failure apparently didn’t phase her, what with her rolling playfully in the hot dirt kicking-up a small cloud of dust. It was enough to make me smile wistfully to myself. So this was how a goblin entertained herself. Playing in dirt, tracing her unclipped nails against its surface, carrying a mortar filled with ground mints and dropping the contents into her mouth – “My mints!” I yelled with sudden realization. “You stole my mints!” Gobbo glanced back over her shoulder at me and had fled back into the woods in an instant. I was rushing outside to the bare patch not soon-after. The mortar lay abandoned, the ground mints spilled and scattered in the wind. “Damned goblin,” I growled as I stooped low to reclaim my property. “Is there anything she won’t nibble?” The thought stirred within me as I returned to stirring my growth potion. Was there anything the goblin wouldn’t eat? Everything edible was apparently a coveted delicacy to the little thief. No doubt it was! Her body was waifishly-thin, and she obviously didn’t cook. “Hmm…” I smiled deviously as my potion began boiling once more. “A goblin with an appetite… what to do, what to do…” Poison? Out of the question. Such brews required rare ingredients I did not have in my garden. Besides, their brewing instructions were closely-guarded state secrets not even shared with guilds. Laxative, then? Tempting… but no. Gobbo would know what I’d done and certainly leave a foul present where I least wanted it. Definitely not. What, then? The potions I could make from memory were numerous, and there were more to be learned from the shelves of books my predecessor had collected, but few were useful for the situation. Invisibility? Cat-eye? Healing tonic? Vigour-enhancement? Shampoo? No, no, and good gods no. I had to think of something useful, else I’d be brewing growth potion all night just to help myself think – I gasped to myself. That’s it! Growth potion! All this while I’d been trying blunt tactics for my little problem, when what I needed was subtlety, deception, and – oh yes – some cunning. My foe was nimble and quick; she could dart and hide anywhere before I could so much as shout after her. I would have to neutralize her strengths – and I would use her gluttonous greed against her. Grinning, I dipped the ladle into the boiling broth and took a small sip once more. It stung hotly against my lips. It was strong enough for the garden now – but I had bigger plans for it. It needed to be even more potent. Time to grind more mint.
  8. The thought never occurred to me, but now I dread wondering what exactly you've been thinking.
  9. Hey 🤫 this is the first of a few chapters of a short story written for @SilverPathfinder's birthday. She's not on the internet for at least a week, so there's no harm in posting now -- SILV IF YOU HAVE INTERNET DO NOT READ BEFORE YOUR BIRTHDAY lol Chapter One Hermit witches sure do live the best. I smiled warmly at that thought as I kicked my bare feet from the edge of my back porch. Yes, I thought once again. This is what’s best in life. My classmates from the magic academy were a couple months ahead of me in their new careers. Listening to them complain about work only taught me what I didn’t want to do. The half-dozen or so who earned lofty positions as court wizards were drowning in work and politics. Battle mages were stuck in four year contracts and distant campaigns. The sorcerers and sorceresses fared better as independent contractors for adventuring parties, but choosing a competent party was a gamble. As for wizards, well… it took decades to become one of those. Besides, I wasn’t about to become a man no matter how wise and powerful they were, thank you very much. Some months had passed and I’d still gotten no closer to choosing my career. Seers were out; I’d flunked that one class I had in divination anyway (why does it matter that I’m an “Aquarius?”). Druids were tempting because I really adored nature, but my classmates were toxic and seeing them twice a year for equinox rituals was just too often. I needed some space, to be alone and treat myself while I figured-out what to do next. So it was that I’d become a hermit witch. A small mountain village wrapped in dense wood and morning fog had been desperately trying to hire a new witch after their last one had disappeared two years ago, but they couldn’t afford much, and no one wanted to live so far away from everyone and everything, much less be responsible for nothing more than simple ointments for sick livestock – no one, that is, except me. Now I had a humble cottage on a mountaintop, a full twenty minute walk from the village below, and a splendid view of the soaring eagles over the rustling fir trees as far as my eyes could see. True, I was alone up here with no one to talk to, but people were just so dramatic and caused so much stress, so really, I was looking forward to living by myself. Besides, I had everything I needed: my own personal garden growing food and alchemical ingredients alike, a stone fireplace with a cauldron big enough to hide in, a surprisingly-soft bed I had no doubts was magically-enhanced by my missing predecessor, a fully-stocked pantry, enough books to last me a year, my walking staff, and – of course – my pointed big-hat. I smiled as I caught myself adjusting it against my head. My massive, obscenely-white, two-foot wide pointed big-hat. How cliché of me. Such a headdress had been a staple of witches everywhere once upon a time, but the novelty of the thing had worn-off over the years. Not that I cared – I couldn’t resist buying the biggest hat I could find at the academy. All my classmates made fun of me for wearing it everywhere and pointed-out how its wide brim was like a mushroom, I couldn’t care less what they thought – even if they all started calling me “Shroom.” I owned the mushroom-girl reputation, and I owned my big-hat. I loved my big hat – Something scuttered behind me. I twisted back. What was that? Whatever it was had bolted nimbly from one end of the porch to the other. I got off the porch and brushed the front of my smock. Was there someone in my cottage? Come to think of it, the footsteps were more a light pitter-patter, so it couldn’t have been a person. Some thing was running around, but what? A squirrel? No, it was bigger. A racoon? Come to think of it, I’d heard two feet instead of four… There! Movement just around the house’s corner. A long, pointed ear was in sight, twitching excitedly. I stared at it for several moments, neither me nor the unknown creature moving. The ear was long – at least a foot in length – and covered in fur like a rabbit’s pelt. Unlike a rabbit, the fur was short and coarse. Whatever it was, it wasn’t sure if I’d left, so it peeked its little yellow-eyed face around the corner – only to scurry away. “Hey!” I ran around the corner after it. “Stop!” It’s little legs were no match for mine. I caught sight of it before it could dart around another corner, a pale, puke-green humanoid with surprisingly-round ass cheeks. “Stop or I’ll hex you!” I bluffed. It stopped in its tracks and turned to face me. At last, I was able to take a proper look at my unwelcome guest. It was a female goblin, roughly a foot and a half in height (two and a half counting the ears) indicating it was a fully-grown adult, though young. The long, leathery ears indicated she was a desert-breed, though whatever had brought her here to the forested mountains was a mystery. The cool, foggy climate had clearly taken a toll on her little body, the thin sheen of fur covering her skin being pale and splotched like a rotting, unripe banana, and not an ounce of fat to spare anywhere. Yet despite the harsh climate straining her body, it had clearly hardened her spirit. Her eyes gleamed a vibrant gold as they stared at me with clever mischief. “Now then,” I composed myself. “Let’s talk about why you’re in my house.” “You’re house?” the goblin’s voice squeaked, but her words carried the weight and pride of any dwarven warrior. “You just got here! I found it first!” “You…” I fumed-inwardly as I did my best not to stutter, as I was prone to do when frustrated. “No. This is a witches’ cabin. The villagers –” “Witch?” one of the goblin’s ears fluttered. “Witch? You’re not a witch!” “Yes I am,” I felt my face grow red-hot. “Then where’s your wand? Witches have wands.” “No they – not all of them – I mean us…” “You can’t hex me without a wand! And I’m staying here – finders keepers!” “I’m sure the villagers will –” It happened so fast, I barely had time to react. In one breath, the goblin was standing before me, grinning ear to ear, and in the next, she’d darted straight under my smock, smacked me hard across my cheeks, and bolted-out the other end. “Yoink!” the goblin cried gleefully as she made her escape. “You…!” I tripped and fell on my face. Too late, I discovered why the goblin had cried “yoink” – my panties were halfway down my thighs. “You’ll pay for this!” But the goblin was already out of sight. Only the furious rustling of forest underbrush betrayed her retreat. “You’ll never catch me!” the goblin’s voice taunted me from the woods like a ghost. “Haha! You lose! Gobbo is the best!” By the time I got back on my feet and hiked my panties back into place, my new arch-nemesis was already gone. Only the echo of crying eagles remained. “Just you wait Gobbo,” I muttered to myself. “You think I’m not a witch? I’ll show you a witch. You’ve never met a witch like Shroom, ace-student of alchemy…” In the meantime, I was shutting the window blinds and resting the wood-bar on my door tonight.
  10. Ugh... I spent HOURS getting this done. I know it's been a while since the last chapter, but I've been doing all kinds of stuff. Love that it's done, though; I've been holding back plenty of stories just so that I could finish this first. Chapter Five Linda “Hey.” My arch-rival Amanda was actually trying to talk to me. Acknowledging her was the last thing I wanted to do, but looking away only made me realize there were random people on the street staring at our fat, wobbling bodies. I had to turn my head back and look at her… “What?” I sighed. She was looking at me with those annoyingly-long eyelashes, chin doubling slightly, and the bottom of her belly was jiggling out from the bottom of her straining shirt with every thigh-brushing step. It was somewhat satisfying to see her swollen so huge in so little time, her reputation as a fitness influencer thoroughly-ruined – until I remembered my belly was even bigger and my own reputation as the hot cheerleader equally-ruined. “Where exactly is your friend taking us?” she asked. “We’ve gone two blocks and my thighs are chafing already. “Bridget?” I looked ahead at my treacherous friend walking side by side with Amanda’s equally treacherous friend. “We’re going to her place, I guess. Isn’t that what she said earlier?” “Could you ask her how much farther?” “Why? Are your thighs too thick around to walk properly?” “Um, yeah? And whose fault is that?” “Yeah, well… in case you haven’t noticed, I got a belly the size of two watermelons and gotta feed it what it wants. Whose fault is that smartass?” “Hey, I know you cheated and –” “Quit it! Both of you!” Annie called back. “Yeah, can we, like, have some peace and quiet for five minutes?” Bridget chimed-in. “Well, that depends,” Amanda snapped. “Is this house we’re going to five minutes away?” “It is if you can afford to waddle a little faster.” Amanda completely lost it at that comment, but ironically her attempts to get close enough to Annie and Bridget to properly point her finger in their faces made her pick up the pace. As for me, I tuned-out their annoying petty banter. There was only so much of their stupid voices I could handle in one day, and I’d reached my limit at least an hour ago. In my attempts to look around the neighbourhood for something to distract me from them, I caught sight of the flying soccer-ball that was Kiki, buzzing overhead just beyond the treeline. All this was ultimately her fault, and no matter what sort of backstory Bridget gave me or monologue from the fat fairy herself, I still didn’t get it. So this was all some sort of ritual to give her fertility powers, but why did it have to result in two totally innocent girls getting fat? Why me? There better be a way for us to shrink back to normal. Amanda I should’ve known Linda’s goth friend lived in a crack-house. I’m sure she and her housemates liked the peeling paint and overgrown lawn for its haunted-looking aesthetic, but they were definitely the only ones who could put up with it. “Christ,” I groaned as Bridget creaked the door of her room open. “I swear, if a mouse runs past my feet, I will scream.” “There’s about five different comebacks I have for that,” Bridget replied as she entered the room. “But we need to focus on rescuing Brad.” “Is that a pentagram?” Annie sidestepped a suspicious circle drawn on the floor. “It’s decorative; don’t worry about it,” Bridget sat at her desk and turned her chair to face the inside of the room. “Mind if I smoke?” “Uh… nicotine or 🌿?” “Eh…” Bridget shrugged and lit something handrolled hanging from her mouth. “Fuck it.” It was not nicotine. “Oh my god,” Annie groaned. Bridget blew smoke from her mouth like a dragon. It would have looked mysterious and intimidating if she didn’t immediately have to stifle a small cough. “Want some?” she offered. “Actually, hold that thought. We got to – cough – we got to talk about saving Brad. Where’s Kiki? Where’d that little butterball float-off to?” “I’m…” Kiki’s wings sputtered as she buzzed herself atop a lava lamp. “I’m here…” she waved a stray trail of smoke from her face. “Good. Now we’re all here,” Bridget took another drag. “Now trust me, having yall crammed into my personal safe space is as stressful to me as it is to you; that’s why I’m lighting-up. Let’s get everything solved here and now so we only have to do this once…” Bridget broke into another fit of coughs and wheezing. Annie and I shared a concerned look. Even Linda joined-in, though she quickly looked away when I noticed. “Damn…” Bridget’s eyes, meanwhile, were red as the setting sun. “So… let me get this straight… Kiki is a fertility goddess or some shit… and, like, she has to recharge her powers every so often… because of a deal with Didisatra… supta… Didi-whatever. Right? Right, Kiki?” Kiki’s eyes were as red as Bridget’s. “Oh! Right. Yes…” “And now Didi is back,” Bridget tried and failed to blow a smoke-ring. “With a bee army or whatever. And she kidnapped Brad. I got a couple questions. Why did she do that and how do we get Brad back?” “Hoo,” Kiki nearly fell from her perch. “What’s in this smoke?” “Don’t worry about it. Tell us how to save Brad.” “Uh... Didi has always been jealous of me. I think she’s kidnapped him because…” “Because what?” “… because I was hanging out with him?” Linda and I exploded from our seats. “You what?” Linda jabbed her finger with every word. “You stay away from him!” “Why would you do that?” I pushed Linda away to face Kiki myself. “Hey, hey, settle down,” Bridget said quietly. “Unless you wanna, you know… get fatter? I dunno…” “Actually, they do need to get fatter,” Kiki replied. “Wow, big surprise…” Bridget continued smoking. “I’m serious,” Kiki insisted. “The only way to get Brad back is to complete the ritual.” “…why?” “Because…” Kiki’s tipsiness finally got the best of her and she fell off the lava lamp with a wet smack of her belly against Bridget’s desk. “Oof! Because that’s the way it’s always been! If you two don’t get fat fast enough, I won’t get my powers back and I’ll be stuck like this forever!” Bridget finished the last of her cigarette and threw the last bit remaining into an empty Monster can. “… how fat?” Kiki didn’t reply out loud. Instead, she stretched her arms out and hung them in front of her as if holding a truly enormous gut. “The hell with this!” I got to my feet again. “I’ve had it with this! Why should we be working with the one who ruined us? I mean, look at me. My thighs spread, like, a whole yard across when I sit, my belly bulges out of all my outfits, and god help me, I’m trending on Instagram because of how fat I am!” “For once, you’re right,” Linda replied. “Why should we trust her? She started all this.” “Hold up, hold… hold up…” said Bridget. “Let’s hear her out. You two are already fine as… I mean fat as hell. So what’s the harm in getting bigger?” “You know why we can’t afford that! Our figures are our livelihoods! We need to stay in shape.” “Hey, you two made a deal to stop eating and that worked-out real well, didn’t it?” “Hey, watch it you!” “Well, what else are we supposed to do? Rescue Brad ourselves? We have no idea where he is right now. Last I checked, none of us even has his number.” Annie, having been uselessly quiet most of the conversation, finally spoke-up. “Actually, I think I know someone who does…” Linda So we left my best friend’s house, me and Amanda waddling after Annie as Bridget straggled behind with Kiki on her shoulder, both too high to convince us to stop or listen to them. I hated walking now, what with every step making my fat stomach bounce and jiggle. It was so fat now that it was folding over my waistband, and sometimes – if I moved to fast – it slapped against my pelvis. The warm, spring weather that had once been so enjoyable was now making sweat bead between and under my massive, melon boobs, and my new side rolls were feeling sticky. In short, walking made it impossible to ignore how huge and fat I’d become. “I can’t believe we walked all the way to the crack house just to walk all the way back,” Amanda huffed. “Look,” Annie grumbled. “Neither of you want to get any fatter, and this is our only other option. We’re almost there anyway.” “Finally,” Amanda rolled her eyes. “The goth girl is tripping balls.” “Guys, we need to go back…” Bridget groaned skyward. “I forgot my pants.” “You’re wearing pants, Bridget,” I sighed. My friend glanced down for a moment to confirm my words, nearly yeeting Kiki from her shoulder in the process. “Alright, keep it together for, like, five minutes,” Annie said. “This is the frat house, right? This one with the smashed window?” “Yeah,” I nodded. “Looks like the bees are gone.” “Come on,” Annie sprang onto the porch. “We’re going in.” Amanda and I gawked after her, sharing moment of disgust at her obscenely prancing up the steps like a gazelle. So she was all of a hundred ten pounds; she didn’t have to rub it in our faces like this! In any case, I couldn’t be bothered to match her pace. “You first,” I told Amanda. “Why?” she snapped. “You trying to snap pics of my giant ass again?” “No, I can’t fit up those stairs with your ass hogging all the space! Hurry up!” Rolling her eyes, Amanda ascended the three steps with painful slowness, the old wood creaking ominously under her weight. Honestly, I should’ve taken pics like she thought I would, but smirking at how wide she’d grown was satisfying enough. Every inch of that gelatinous rear end was because of me and my huge appetite. Had I really eaten enough to make her gain a couple hundred pounds in a couple days? Considering the takeout, the beer chug, and the whole ice cream stand, it sure felt like it. I’d barely started my own journey onto the porch before Annie knocked on the door and forced it open without waiting for an answer. “Grant?” she called. “Grant!” I was blocked from entering by Amanda’s massive ass being in the way, but I could see just enough past her shoulder to tell what was going on – or could I? The frat boys were all huddled in a circle in the living room like some football team planning a play. Were they… wearing cloaks? What the hell? Grant poked his fat head up from the huddle. “Hey, can it wait?” he asked in his dumb Chris Farley voice that made it hard to take him seriously. “Our pledge just got kidnapped by a giant bee, so if you could wait outside for a hot minute please.” Frustrated, I barged past Amanda and blasted Annie aside with a swing of my hip. “What?” I stood with my hands over my hips. “Don’t you recognize me? Brad’s boyfriend?” Grant pointed at me as his bros perked-up and stared at me. “You’re the girls who chugged two whole kegs all by yourselves!” “Damn, what happened to them?” one of the dudes chuckled. “They’re bigger than you Grant.” “Look, I don’t have time for this,” I walked into their midst, gaining confidence as they edged away from my rounded girth. “Annie told me you have Brad’s number. We need you to call him so that we can find and rescue him.” Grant didn’t answer right away, opting instead with scratching the back of his head. “So, you think we haven’t done that already?” “Well?” Amanda raced to my side. “Did he pick-up or not? Where is he?” “He says he’s in the dance hall, but that isn’t the –” “What are yall waiting for?” I turned leave. “We’re storming the dance hall!” “No, hold up!” Grant called. “The bees –” “Fuck the bees!” I called back. “Yeah, fuck ‘em!” Amanda threw the house the finger. “Come on, yall.” So we left the frat house behind and made our slow, waddling way towards the dance hall. I could hear yelling something about a plan, but by then we’d slammed the door in his face – and who cared what his plan was? If it was any good, he and his bros wouldn’t still be huddled in the house! I’d trust my arch-rival Amanda over any half-baked scheme – even if two of our party were currently half-baked. At least being high kept them quiet… Amanda The “dance hall” was an enormous room in the Vernon building that was usually empty. When it was used, it was often filled with tables for donors to sit around as they listened to the college president talk about how important it was to be generous. Now, however, the tables had been replaced with boomboxes and banners. The room was about to be used as intended, because prom night was a mere couple weekends away. In any case, the dance hall was on the other side of campus, so Annie called an Uber and stuffed us all inside. By then, Kiki was so high that she was barely moving, so the driver just assumed she was some kind of kinky-looking plushie (I hope?). It was a tight squeeze in there. Annie took the front seat to give directions while Linda and I wedged our fat bodies on either side of Bridget. That shit was awkward! My hips were so wide that Bridget basically had to half-sit on top of me, which meant she was leaning her face into Linda’s side boob the whole drive. She wouldn’t stop snickering to herself either, the stupid slut. If only I could make her the fat one… When we finally arrived, Linda opened the side door too fast and spilled-out of the car like a bean-bag under pressure. The shock made Bridget tip over off my flank with a fit of giggles. At least that meant that I could slide out of my seat with some dignity. “Thanks for the ride,” Annie told the driver as she got out. “Hey, no problem pretty girl,” the driver replied with some African accent I couldn’t quite put my thumb on. “You be careful going in there. I heard there’s a bee swarm inside.” “Thanks?” “They got two fire engines outside and won’t even go in. Lots of bees. Too many bees.” “Thanks.” “You can call me anytime you want. I’ll pick you up, pretty girl.” “Thanks… okay bye…” “Hey, don’t forget to leave a tip!” “Okay bye!” At last the persistent Uber driver sped down the street, leaving us to deal with whatever disaster was awaiting us. “Yeah, I’m not leaving a tip,” Annie rolled her eyes. “Zero-point-double-zero for the zero.” “What did he say about a fire engine?” asked Linda. “Doesn’t matter,” I replied. “They haven’t shown-up at this back entrance, which means we can just walk-in.” “And who cares about an engine anyway?” Bridget chimed-in. “They’d need a whole truck to put the fire out…” “Ugh,” Linda shoved at her face. “What was even in that stuff you were smoking? Just try not to get lost when we go in – and don’t drop Kiki. We need her for this to work.” Sure enough, we got inside with no problems. Apparently the firemen had told everyone to evacuate, but hadn’t actually gone inside themselves. But it wasn’t like we needed their help anyway. If anything, the empty hallways made things easier for us. No one gawking at the hot girls who’d grown obese in two days. No one snapping pics of our wobbling bodies I’d have to track down and blackmail later. No need to tell people to move out of our way as we made our way to the dance hall… Annie was ahead of us, the skinny show-ff, but as she turned the last corner she stopped and gawked. “What the hell is that?” she pointed. As I turned the corner, I saw what she was worked-up about. The dance hall entrance was coated in bees. The things were clumped in buzzing clusters like wild moss, and I could see their wings buzzing in rippling waves across the surface of the clumps with every stray gust of wind from the AC. “Well, how are we supposed to get in now?” I shook my head. “Kiki! Wake up!” “Uhn…” Kiki stirred from her half-slumber in Bridget’s arms. “Wait… where are we?” “Snap out of it and make the bees move!” “Bees?” “Like, tell them to move for us. I dunno…” Kiki’s eyes bugged-out and she began thrashing against Bridget’s hold. “We shouldn’t be here!” “What, you want us to go home and fatten-up, right? We’re not going back.” “No, you don’t understand! We have to escape before it’s too late!” Talking to her was getting me nowhere, so I turned to Annie. “Talk to me. Do we have a plan B?” “Plan B?” she said. “We didn’t even have a plan!” She shouldn’t have been so loud, for as soon as she finished her little tirade, the bees fluttered their wings in a tidal wave of angry flutters. The clumps parted, revealing just enough of the double doors to allow them to creak open. “So,” a sultry voice mocked us from within. “My misguided minion has returned – and early. Too early.” “No!” Kiki moaned. “I can’t come in – they’re not ready!” “Hey, bee-queen!” Linda interrupted. “You better not have hurt Brad! We’re here to take him back!” “Why don’t you come inside and see him for yourself?” the voice replied with a light, yet powerful tone. The double-doors creaked wider, parted by an unseen force. We all looked at each other, getting second thoughts about walking into a room we might not be able to walk back out of. My heart was certainly pounding. But before I could even think of glancing back down the hallway we’d come, the bees took flight, swarming all around us, leaving no other way but forward into the Dance Hall. So I stepped inside – slowly, because my tree trunk thighs were chafing and definitely not because I was scared – and gasped as I saw what Didi had done to the place. Every wall was covered in wax hexagons, each brimming with enough honey to supply the entire state. It was dripping from the ceiling, coming down from stalactites of wax and pooling on the carpet ankle-deep. The buzzing of millions of bees was as constant and loud as a jumbo jet. It was like stepping onto the set of a honeycomb cereal commercial, except instead of a feral, bug-eyed mascot, there was Didivasahrasupta, goddess of fertility – the bee queen herself. There she was, seated on what had once been the prom queen’s throne, now reimagined as her own. Somehow, she’d managed to bring the wood in its frame back to life, and its surface was riddled with blossoms. And there was Brad, strapped and tied to a harness, reduced to be a human stool beneath her exoskeleton feet. Brad! My one true love! He stared at me with a bit between his teeth, unable to even cry out for me – though he did try. “Quit moaning, boy,” Didi stomped her foot in between his shoulder blades. “You don’t want to test my patience – not when you’ve served your purpose.” Before I could say anything, Linda shoved past me with her massive bulk and stood before her. “You let my boyfriend go!” “He’s not your boyfriend, but yeah,” I replied. “Get him out of that harness. He’s not part of this!” Didi grinned, her rows of human teeth the only sign of emotion beneath her insectoid eyes. “You want him, don’t you? It’s why I kidnapped him in the first place. Now I have you both to play with as I please.” Both of us were ready to snap back, but Kiki zipped between us and hovered before the bee queen. “No!” she cried. “They’re not ready! Give me more time!” “I’m afraid I’ve outsmarted you this time,” Didi purred. “You know the rules. Every spring you awaken to fatten two young virgins as an offering to me. Unfortunately, it seems your ‘offerings’ aren’t properly ripe yet. Did you hibernate a little too long, perhaps?” “But springtime isn’t over! There’s two moon cycles before harvest!” “Then why do I see the harvest standing before me?” “I couldn’t stop them… I was… I was **…” Didi tittered with a light flutter of her wings and adjusted the angle of her hips on the throne as she rubbed her legs against each other. For a half-bee, she was all-woman, with thin limbs and waist matched with prominent breasts. An exoskeleton coated most of her body like armour, but in some places it framed softer, fuzzier flesh, propping her breasts like a push-up bra and half-wrapping around the sides of her pelvis. Her belly was the softest part of all, and a bright jewel shone white from her navel. “You want this, don’t you?” Didi tapped the jewel lightly between two fingers to make it shimmer. “My blessing can return life to driftwood, grow an oasis in the desert, and summon hordes of hives to do your bidding. So potent, it can grow an oak from a seed, or fatten a pig in a single night.” “Um, okay?” Linda folded her arms. “So why make us go through this bullshit if you can grow your own harvest?” “You are my harvest,” Didi snapped. “Rather, you are Kikikamikawawo’ole’s, and since you aren’t properly ripened, she can’t have my fertility blessing.” “Great!” I replied. “Now you can let Brad go.” “And make us thin again?” Linda added. Didi chuckled as she took her feet off of Brad and slowly rose to her feet. “Does he mean that much to you? Do you want to take this worthless drone away from me?” “Yes.” “So you wish to make a bargain, then?” “Just give him back, already!” “Well… I’m afraid you’re rather lacking. You two are not… plump enough… yet.” Before I could even think of trying to waddle my fat ass away, the horde of bees began to swirl overhead. They zipped all around me and my rival, forming a wall of angry buzzing between us and everyone else in the room. I cringed at the sight, knowing I could easily run straight through, but not wanting to find out what would happen if I did. Didi’s face grinned through the horde of bees like a tv image with a bad signal. “Such poor specimens,” she held her arm forward like a maestro. “You insult me with these two, Kiki.” “You’re cheating the deal!” Kiki said desperately. “There’s still time!” “But they’re before me now, aren’t they?” Didi chuckled. “And that means your preparation time is over. Such a shame they care more about this boy under my feet than you.” At this, Brad attempted to scream something through the bit wedged between his teeth, but was promptly stomped into submission. “But I digress,” said Didi with a flourish of her arms. “It’s time to fatten them up – properly, this time. Feed them, my children!” “I swear to god!” Linda ranted. “If one of those bees so much as touches me, I’m going to –” “You will do as I command!” Didi snapped. “Else you swell with stings instead of honey.” I was too anxious about the bees to say anything, but when I saw clumps of bees carrying two long hoses towards us from the fountain machine, I had to say something. “Excuse me, but what is that?” I nodded towards the fountain machine, half buried in honeycombs. “Uh, yeah, what the fuck?” Linda cringed her shoulders. “I don’t really feel like getting hose-fed again.” I whipped my head and glared at her. “Again?” “Silence!” Didi commanded. “Perhaps you sour, unripe girls need some inspiration… whomever drinks the most of my hive’s honey shall earn the right to take this one back home with them,” she kicked poor Brad again for emphasis. “You can’t be serious,” I moaned. “Drink,” Didi repeated. “Or have you not noticed your friend is gaining a head start?” I snapped my head towards my arch enemy Linda. Fuck everything and everyone! She was drinking from the tube already? Fat bitch’s cheeks were already big as a chipmunks’ as she guzzled the golden honey as fast as it would ooze down into her mouth. So that’s how this was gonna be? Well then… seemed like it was time for a chugging rematch. As I got ready, Kiki and the cronies watched helplessly from behind the screen of flying bees. “Manda!” Annie waved desperately at me. “Manda! Don’t just drink that stuff! We don’t know if she’s telling the truth! Amanda listen!” “She’s not listening,” Bridget sighed. “Not that she’s smart enough to.” “She’s only doing this because your friend started sucking first!” “Yeah, well, she’s not that smart either.” That remark had Linda glaring back over her shoulder at the goth, eyes full of fury and mouth full of honey. I’m sure she’d have said more, but didn’t want to lose her lead on me. So she turned away, focusing her anger on getting as much honey into herself as possible. A slight coughing fit had her sputtering valuable golden liquid all over the place. Served her right. I’d beat her and get Brad in no time. “Yes,” Didi purred as she relaxed into her throne. “Feast upon my royal nectar. Feast and grow, you spoiled brats.” I did my best to zone her out. The honey pouring into my mouth was the sweetest, richest honey I’d ever tasted. Forget eating a spoonful of the stuff, this honey was so dense, it oozed like magma. At first, this kept it flowing at a manageable pace, but I was greedy and needed it to flow faster down my throat. So I sucked long and hard, and the honey flowed heavily down, an unending downpour of sickeningly-sugary liquid that couldn’t be stopped. It took all my willpower not to gag, but as I glanced towards Linda and her frightening speed, I knew I had to remain focused. Linda’s body was growing. Her belly was filling with honey, of course, but the more I watched, the more certain I was that she was literally fattening by the second. Her lazy, decadent gut poked ever-further from the bottom of her sweater, and sagged downwards like an apron over chunky, pliable thighs. And her boobs were getting huge. They were already obnoxiously big, hogging every spare inch of space in her sweater, but they were growing so out of hand, they were making her sweater rise even more off her belly than it was already. She caught me staring, leering with her narrow eyes at me before smirking her mouth around the tube, making her chin double. Disgusting. Atrocious. Such a fatass. She was a natural at this – and fuck me, I had to be even worse. I could feel the honey beginning to pool heavily in my belly, and I resisted the urge to cradle it with my free hand. Dwelling on how stuffed and bloated I was starting to get was not how I was going to win this. If I wanted any chance of victory, I had to ignore the pain of overstuffing my fat face and definitely not think of how huge my formerly-perfect ass was about to get in the next few seconds. Yet as hard as I was chugging and as taut my stomach was starting to get, the stuffed feeling never came. Instead, I felt something totally unexpected: I was starting to feel warm. “Yes,” Didi rose from her throne and walked towards us. “Drink-up. You may have noticed through your craving-addled minds that your bellies aren’t filling-up. That’s because they’re filling-out.” As soon as she said it out loud, I could tell she was right. While I’d been busy focusing on not **, pressure had begun to build behind me. My ass – once the definition of firm and sculpted – was pressing out behind me, extending its girth in all directions like a balloon filling-up with marshmallows. The tightness it was causing wrapped all the way around my hips, straining my elastic fabric past its already-large limits, and joining with the stuffed gut I could see rounding-out before me. I’d been self-conscious of how small my boobs once were, but now I was self-conscious of how they rested atop my stuffed gut like grapefruits. All the while, my free arm was slowly being pushed away from my inflating side, and I felt new side-boob folds starting to pinch under my armpits. But I still wasn’t growing fast enough! My gut was big enough to hold twins, but Linda’s was twice that size! The thing was massive, and worst of all, she knew it. She was still smirking at me, waiting for me to choke, to spit the tube out and let her win. She wanted Brad all to herself, the spoiled brat of a cheerleader, and she really thought she was going to beat me. But even though Linda was a greedy bitch, there was something she didn’t know: how to deepthroat. With some slight sputtering, I grabbed hold of my tube and shoved it deep down my throat like a fat cucumber or a really long banana. My body wanted nothing more than to choke against its rough surface, but let’s just say that I had some practice supressing those instincts. In any case, the tube was now in my oesophagus, safely past my windpipe and pouring directly into my belly. Linda stared at me with narrowed eyes, unsure exactly why I’d taken my arms off the tube and placed them behind my head. Smirking, I sashayed my hips like a Tik Thot, mocking her confusion. It was my turn to gloat as she stared in horror at how I effortlessly filled with honey, letting gravity guide the liquid into myself. I’d turned myself into a fully-inflatable human balloon. “Impressive,” Didi nodded. “The pounds just pack on, don’t they? You see, Kiki? This is how you fatten your offerings.” “Uh…” Bridget raised her hand timidly. “’Scuse me. I’m a little high, but… how fat are they going to get?” “How fat?” Didi grinned evilly. “That’s entirely up to them! They can stop whenever they want, but only the fattest one gets to go with their poor, poor sweetheart. Who knows how huge they’ll grow? This one has a gut big enough to slap against her knees,” she leered at Linda’s body. “And this one…” she parted the horde of bees circling us with a wave of her hand that proceeded to spank my right cheek. “… has an ass plump as a hippo’s rump. Between the two of them, they’re half a ton already.” “Wait… wait…” Bridget grumbled. “Aren’t their diets reversed? So even if one gave-up, the other would still be feeding into them?” “Is that so?” Didi laughed. “How creative. You’re more manipulative than I gave credit, Kiki. Perhaps my fertility powers weren’t a total waste on you,” she tapped the shimmering jewel on her navel. “But I’m afraid –” Didi didn’t even have time to cry-out in alarm when large yet nimble hands wrapped around her waist from behind and plucked the jewel from its place. Annie and Bridget gasped in shock, and Kiki buzzed excitedly in the air as they realized who had the balls to attack the Bee Queen herself. “Brad?” Annie gawked. “Brad!” Bridget snapped out of her funk. “Are you insane? The bees will kill you!” But they received no reply from our hero. Brad, ironically the hottest cheerleader I’d ever met, stood solidly before us, a tight grip around the stolen jewel. True, the bit still firmly between his teeth kept him from saying anything if her wanted to, but that’s not important. What was important was the bees weren’t attacking him, and Didi had turned her full attention to him. “You…” she stared upwards into his eyes with all the hatred her comparatively tiny frame could muster. Brad spit the bit from his mouth. “Sorry, what? There was something buzzing in my ear.” “How dare you?” Didi fumed. “You! A mortal man handling my body! Hand me my blessing stone this instant!” “Or what? You’ll sting me?” “I-I will unleash my horde upon your pale skin!” “Go ahead. Release the bees.” I watched helplessly, waiting for the bees to swarm. The tube I’d foolishly set into my own throat was now keeping me from moving! But despite the bees still flying around us, they didn’t change course. Brad was still safe – and Didi was more furious than ever. “Oh cool,” Brad said suddenly. The jewel in his fingers began to glow warmly. “Something’s happening. I think I can hear the bees talking.” “Don’t you dare!” Didi fumed. “Give that back to me this instant!” Brad simply ignored her. “I can read their minds… I can talk to them. Sweet.” “My blessing must be earned not taken,” Didi stomped her foot, all but whining now. “Blessing? Are these those fertility powers you were talking about?” “Stop! If you give it back, I will free both your –” “I am the fertility god!” Brad raised his arms and bounced a routine. “Yeah! F-E-R-T! I-L-I-T-Y we are –” “Brad!” Annie interrupted. “Please! Save the girls!” “Bees!” Brad waved his arms. “Your work here is done! You are free! Free!” Within moments, the swirling maelstrom of bees had left us behind, withdrawing to their honeycombs lining the walls of the Dance Hall. Brad immediately rushed to Linda’s side. My eyes widened with shock. How could he? After everything I’d done, he was leaning into her wobbling flesh without even acknowledging me? “Gimme that,” he pulled the tube from her mouth and wiped it against his shirt. He caught sight of me staring at him and shook his head in disbelief. “Pull that thing out, crazy! Do you want that ass to get fatter?” They were the first words he had ever spoken to me. For a moment, the actual words didn’t register in my mind and I simply stared at him with longing. Then I regained my senses and remembered to pull the tube from my mouth. “What the hell?” I coughed. “Brad, are you serious right now? I came all this way to save you – it was my idea – and you just walk over to this fat bitch instead? She’s so annoying.” “You liar!” Linda gasped. “Brad! It was me who dragged everyone here. Don’t listen to her!” “Hey,” Brad looked at me. “Can you hand me that?” My thoughts vanished again. “What?” “That tube you’re still holding. What, you still need it?” “Oh – here…” “Nice,” Brad smiled. He was holding both tubes now, each still spewing honey all over the floor, and turned his attention to Didi. “So you thought it would be fun to kidnap me, huh? Thought you’d use me to lure these girls here?” Didi had clearly never been spoken-down to. Instead of answering, she laughed (nervously). “Just what do you expect to accomplish with those? You think you can stuff me with my own royal –?” “That’s exactly what I intend to do. You deserve to gain every pound you packed onto these girls.” “They deserved it,” she eyed the tubes with mounting panic. “And that won’t harm me! I’m a goddess!” “I’m counting on that. You’re going to guzzle from both of these.” “No! No, I won’t do it! You can’t catch me!” “If you fly away, you’ll never get this jewel back. Now fit these into your mouth and start swallowing – and don’t stop until you’re ready to help the ones you hurt.” Before the spoiled queen bee could protest, Brad shoved first one, then both tubes into her mouth. Her cheeks swelled full as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and began gulping. Slowly, her flat stomach rounded-out into a taut food baby. “Don’t stop until you’re ready to give Kiki her powers again,” Brad told her. Didi moaned something in response, but no words could form when her mouth was so utterly stuffed. Her hands scrambled from her bulging midsection to her curvy thighs, becoming more panicked with each passing moment. “Tap my hand when you’re ready to give-in.” Didi slapped at Brad’s hand so hard, her tits bounced and sloshed their full length up and down her torso. “Well, well, that didn’t take long!” Brad pulled the tubes away. Didi gasped melodramatically and coughed as she caught her breath, too winded and embarrassed to argue. “L-look what you did to me!” she rubbed her hands against her front showing off a new layer of chub a full inch deep. “My perfect figure – it’s ruined!” “Yeah, imagine tripling in size – now, how about giving Kiki her powers?” Didi looked down defeatedly. “Just let her touch it – like you did.” “Hey,” Brad waved at the fairy-sized woman. “You hear that Kiki? You’re getting your powers back.” Kiki flew towards him, eyes filled with wonder as she hovered before his face. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I thought I’d lost my chance forever…” “Don’t worry about it,” Brad opened his hand and revealed the jewel. “I’m sure you deserve it.” Kiki landed on his hand, took the jewel into her little hands, and basked in its glow. For a moment, she didn’t move, but when she did, her face beamed with happiness and she turned her attention to me. “Thank you for doing your best to eat,” she told me. “I’m sure you would’ve gained enough if we were given enough time.” She reached her hand towards me, and I felt a shock course through my body. It was like she was sucking power straight out of me! Then I realized that’s exactly what she was doing. I was shrinking! And it wasn’t just me. Linda was shrinking as well, and as we grew smaller, Kiki grew bigger. The fairy-sized woman had always been shaped like a winged-basketball, but as she absorbed our weight, she simply expanded from head to toe, growing bigger rather than fatter. She was the size of a beachball within seconds. Within a minute, she was human-sized once again – and Linda and I were slim. “We did it!” I gasped with joy. “Yes!” Linda leapt in the air with her fist raised – only to squeak when her sweatpants slipped off her legs. “Fuck,” I looked down at my own shorts piled around my feet, too late to save my dignity. “Well then…” Didi straightened herself, obviously sucking-in. “Now that everything’s settled, why don’t you…?” “This?” Brad held the jewel between thumb and finger. “How do I know you won’t make me your personal footstool again?” “It’s alright,” Kiki lay a hand on his shoulder. “She won’t do anything to you.” Brad flicked the jewel at Didi like a coin. She caught it and smiled with relief before quickly placing it back into her navel. “This isn’t over,” she said as she rose into the sky. “You may have won this time Kiki, but our contract still remains! Come next spring, you will have to earn your powers once more – and we’ll see if you can awaken on time then.” With a low roar, every bee in the room took flight, swirling thickly around her body until it was impossible to see her, and then flying straight to the double doors, slamming them open, and vanishing once and for all. “She’s gone,” Kiki sighed. “For now.” “Finally,” Linda huffed, hands on her hips. “Brad, can you help a girl out and pick my clothes off the ground for me?” “Hey, watch it smartass,” I snapped. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t trying to steal him from me!” “Whoa, hey, wait a minute,” Brad held his hands out. “You two keep fighting over me and it’s honestly the reason this all happened.” “Uh, yeah?” I nodded incredulously. “We’ve been fighting for you since this started.” “Did you think to ask me how I felt? Did either of you?” “What do you mean?” I replied. “Why wouldn’t you want to go out with the hottest girl on campus?” “Second hottest,” Linda quipped. “Because,” Brad glared at both of us. “You two have made my life hell! First you turn my secret pledge meeting into a giant party, then I have to dance like a clown in front of my bros while you two chug beer like elephants, and then I get kidnapped and enslaved by a giant bee.” “I mean –” “And neither of you ever bothered to ask me about any of that. You two can pick your own clothes up.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Uh, excuse you?” I folded my arms. “In case you didn’t notice, but I – I mean, we saved you from a freaking bee queen.” “Amanda – Linda,” he stared at both of us before continuing. “Honestly? You two are the real queen bees in this situation.” “What’s the matter with you?” Linda stomped her foot. “Aren’t we hot enough for you?” “Actually,” Brad turned his attention to Kiki. “I’ve always thought big girls were cute.” “You…?” Kiki blushed. “…me? But I… I haven’t in centuries…” “Can we?” “I tend to oversleep… but yes. Yes!” So there I was, mouth agape as the man I’d spent all my effort fighting over hugged the fattest fairy I’d ever met. Just what was I supposed to do now? As I stood there helplessly, noted the others around me: my photographer Annie gawking as much as I was, Bridget by her side biting her lip while staring at Kiki’s soft stomach – and Linda, looking straight at me. I stared back. Her staring directly into my eyes was a challenge in itself, but she was also rubbing her belly with one hand, cocking an eyebrow as she waited for my response – and my response was to give my own belly a light pat. This wasn’t over. If Brad liked big girls, he was going to get them.
  11. Ok I know I have way too many stories, but this one's just too good... I was hanging out with my friends the other day and we went to this restaurant. One friend needed help choosing what to eat, so I casually suggested the "Futanari," explaining that it was basically a large sausage. "Just ask them about it," I said. "I've never had one, but it's apparently really good." I chickened-out and stopped him last minute.
  12. You’re like Bender in that Futurama episode where he dates the ship
  13. I’m 80% sure one of my watch commanders had this kink as well. He had this Brazilian gf who he kept giving money. Unfortunately, he was $5,000 in debt. “Dude, stop giving her money you don’t have,” I told him several times. “But I love her,” he would tell me. “So is she short on cash or something? What’s she do?” And he said “uh, she works nights at the gas station…” Weeks later, my coworkers see me and are like. “Hey, you know your friend’s girlfriend? She was at the strip club. She gave me a lap dance!” I was like
  14. You mean kinks that anyone would find weird or just FA’s? I had to think about this for a while, but tails are surprisingly sexy. Imagine a hot chick suddenly feeling a new one growing and pushing against her clothes and bunching in the back — maybe some ripping and tearing action. Then when she actually has a tail, think of all the devious things she can do with it: lift her boobs, cradle one ass cheek, tickle a “victim” with its tip and wrapping it around them. Thin devil tails would be my favorite, but fat dragon tails also work. Fluffy tails would be fun for growing, but they can’t really hold anything— better for being held onto like a pillow or such. If a tail’s fat or fluffy enough, it could even be used as a blanket when cuddling.
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