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I have this story I've been working on. It's about a female app developer who creates an app that can alter the appearance of its user. She designs it so that you input a BMI from 60-100 to change your body weight to. She gives a sort of "keynote" presentation of the app, along with a demonstration (on herself) of how it works. She hastily finished the app right before its launch, but she forgot to include the function that allows the user to change back after they've altered their weight. She realizes this while she's on-stage, but doesn't mention it to the audience. She then begins to receive a flood of complaints from users who tell her that they can't change back to their original weight once they've fattened up. She has her own problem, she weighs 564.5 pounds now since she gave that app demonstration at the launch. She's only 5'3, so this is definitely a lot of weight for her to be carrying around, giving her a 100 BMI. I am still trying to work out a resolution/ending to this story. I would love people's help in doing that. I would love the community's help in finishing this story, as well as any good additions that can be made. I would also appreciate any input, including any constructive criticism. Also, let me know how you like the story. Can it use some work? Does it have potential? The App Developer Delilah Ortiz worked for a Silicon Valley tech start up. Their mission was to develop apps which could transform the human body. Delilah, having always had a fascination with all things fat, decided she wanted to create an app which could temporarily make people fat. At first her colleagues laughed and thought she was joking. Nobody took her idea seriously. Being that Delilah was quite petite, standing around 5’3 and 135 pounds, people thought she was just messing around. They also told her nobody would be interested in such a thing. But today was her chance to prove them wrong. Delilah was just about putting the finishing touches on her new app. She had planned a grand reveal of the new app, which she had dubbed simply as ‘Fat App.’ She didn’t have time to test it out, but she was going to demonstrate its ability on herself. She designed the app to use BMI as the thing people can alter about their bodies. She set it up so that you take a full-body selfie of yourself, then set your desired BMI, from 60-100. The app will then give you a preview of what it can change you to before it actually does it. Then if you’re satisfied with the BMI selection, you can hit the ‘Apply’ button for the change to take effect. Delilah wanted the app to be as user-friendly as possible. As Delilah finished inputting the last bit of code into the app, she noticed that she only had fifteen minutes until the official launch party for her app. Delilah was kicking herself for having procrastinated this long. She knew not testing the app prior to its launch was a bad idea, but also more reason to double-check everything prior to the launch event. One feature she especially wanted to make sure worked was the ‘Reset’ button. This feature would automatically change the person back to their original weight. Delilah got several texts telling her she needed to be out in the auditorium for the launch party. So Delilah quickly and hastily put in her last bit of code, then rushed down to the auditorium where the launch was being held. She made sure to grab all her stuff too. When Delilah got to the auditorium, she noticed the room was packed, with some extra people standing in the back. As she took the stage, people began clapping. Delilah became nervous. She gathered her thoughts and took a deep breath. Calmly, she approached the podium. She began her presentation by holding up her phone and discussing the potential it had and what it could do. But then she told the audience that there was ‘so much untapped potential’ within such a device. She said, “what if I could alter my appearance, for fun, to be overweight. As you can see, nobody in their right mind would currently call me overweight.” The crowd laughed. Delilah then grabbed her phone once more and unlocked it. “All I have to do is take a selfie, full body preferably, and input it into the new app I developed.” Delilah then proceeded to take a quick full body selfie, using a mirror that had been brought out by one of her assistants. “Okay now we have our selfie. All I have to do now is to open the app, and allow it to use that selfie. It’s gonna ask me what I want my new BMI to be.” As she was talking, her phone screen was being projected on the large screen behind her. “Okay audience, what say you?How fat should I get? Should I set it all the way to the max of 100?” The audience began to cheer excitedly. “I think I got my answer.” Delilah then set the slider for the BMI to 100. “All I have to do is press ‘Apply’ and this will change my body size to one where my BMI is 100.” She pressed ‘Apply’ and for Delilah everything around her suddenly froze momentarily. She felt as if she lost consciousness for a second. When she finally came to, she felt something odd. It was as if her whole body was stuck in concrete or something. Everyone in the audience stood still as they watched her. There wasn’t a peep to be heard in the whole room. Delilah looked around and saw people pointing at her. She looked down and was immediately notified why people were staring and pointing. She was huge! Her belly and boobs prevented her from even seeing the floor beneath her. Delilah realized that her clothes had morphed with her. Her slacks and blouse, even her heels, all morphed with her. Though, her clothes fit a whole lot tighter now. She could feel her large belly putting pressure on the seems or her blouse. Her belly hung down to her knees, so it was also inside her slacks.

(The following is my contribution to @Batman76's D&D style RP. As DM, he has been doing his best to sabotage my character's superior elven figure 🤨) DM's PROMPT: Kayla thought of having a hundred thousand pleasure slaves at her beck and call but was shaken from contemplating her eventual power by the city she would one day own. The dark skinned wizard was used to the woods and small villages, but this town had tens of thousands of people in it's walls! More than enough to up set her sensitive elf nose and ears with their scents and sounds. When she owned everything, Kayla would institute better sewers and noise pollution for sure! But that was for tomorrow. Kayla hadnt come to this city at random after all! This was Red Port, one of the southern most republics and only a hop and a skip away from the lush southern continent. Kayla had spent most of her coin on a disgusting human ship ride here so she could... PICK ONE: Join a pirate crew to earn fortune and glory!: Tessa Red-Wing, an angel blooded pirate with crimson feathered wings pays a high bounty for any magicians to join her crew. She apparently goes through Sorceresses quite quickly but Kayla will surely evade whatever fate claimed those vain, empty headed fools once she joins the crew of the "Maiden Buster!" She just needs to show off her skills... (Roll INTELLIGENCE) Gain political power! The new Duke of the city is recruiting for his harem. Kayla may not care for her assuredly gorgeous elven looks much but knows she will stand out among the flabby, ugly human competition! Soon she'll have the Duke wrapped around her finger and rule this island with an iron fist! (ROLL CHARISMA) Attain ancient power! Red Ports jungle interior is home to many ancient ruins rumored to hide vast magical artifacts, gold in piles and ancient arcane power! Kayla is too join an adventuring party heading into the jungle, meeting them at a human eatery...(Roll WILLPOWER to avoid overeating and CONSTITUTION if failed) Find a lost master: Abigail Featherweight was an elf wizard who fought harder than any against the rise of Queen Saree. She escaped when the fight was lost and is rumored to be in Red Port. Kayla doesn't care much about politics that don't put her in charge but Abigail is rumored to be training apprentices at a magic school disguised as a bakery of all things!? If Kayla can find and impress her, she could grow even more powerful! (Roll WILLPOWER to avoid overeating, CONSTITUTION if failed. INTELLIGENCE to impress

Hi curvage. Most of you might know me as someone who posts gains, but recently I've been branching out a bit into weight gain fiction. I haven't had the time or privacy to download and organize pictures lately, but luckily it has been slow at work, where I can at least get away with having a word document open. Here's what I've written so far. Enjoy: UNITS OF MEASUREMENT “Great, I’ll see you at the house tomorrow!” Hannah pressed send. “Whoo! Get it girl!” Kelsey shouted. The other girls at the large round table laughed. Hannah and her friends were taking part in their usual Friday night routine which largely consisted of consuming copious amounts of alcohol, dancing, and flirting with guys at the club. Their usual group of seven was probably a bit intimidating and maybe a bit easy to judge. At first glance, they seemed like your attractive, but basic, sorority girls who only cared about partying and keeping up superficial appearances. However, once people got to know them, they found them to be a pretty down to earth group that knew how to have a good time. They fully embraced the “work hard, play hard” mentality, and at the moment they were playing hard, nursing their buzz at the bar while cheering their friend on for setting up a date with a hot guy from Tinder. “Stop you guys” Hannah said, though she had a smile on her gorgeous face. Hannah was probably the one in the group who looked most like a model. One look at her dating profile and everyone could see why. She had shoulder-length straight brown hair, the classic prominent cheek bones, and piercing blue eyes. She stood at 5’8, giving her enough height to have presence, but not enough to tower over people or scare men off. She was also very thin framed, weighing a thin 136 pounds, perky breasts, and a nice slightly rounded butt. At least, Hannah used to be thin framed. The nights of going out and mornings of taking pre-med courses had taken a bit of a toll on her figure. Her bikini picture on her dating profile might have displayed a perfect body, but Hannah had been putting on weight since the latter half of the past summer. Knowing she couldn’t afford to go abroad for a semester due to her course load, Hannah opted to spend 6 weeks in Italy through one of the university’s summer programs. The trip was one of the times of her life, but came at the cost of softening her a bit, having sampled many types of pasta, wine, and gelato. When she got back, she only had a few days of downtime before moving back into her sorority house for her junior year. The course load ended up being just as intense as she anticipated, and, while living in the sorority house was always entertaining, it wasn’t exactly the best influence. As a result, she hadn’t been able to dedicate much time to eating well or exercising and she was starting to feel the literal weight of her new lifestyle. Having good genetics and height on her side, Hannah wore her new weight well. Her belly might have just started to stick out slightly, but she still looked fantastic overall. Her butt and boobs received the brunt of the weight making her look curvier, and her upper arms, the area most people saw fat accumulate, had only thickened a little bit. Barring the opinions of the shallowest of people, Hannah still looked drop dead gorgeous, and Hannah still had a lot of success in her nighttime outings. That said, she was aware of the tightening of her clothes as of late and wore what was once a loose dress that night to draw attention away from the slight roll around her waist. “Besides, I think I might actually really like Mason” Hannah continued. “Who wouldn’t. He’s so hot!” said Jackie. Normally Jackie was a bit on the quieter side, but being the shortest in the group at 5’2 and weighing maybe 100 pounds, she was feeling her second drink. Hannah and the others always thought Jackie was very pretty, but could be stunning with a few adjustments. She had half Asian features with beautiful thick straight hair that fell at about shoulder length, and kind brown eyes. She didn’t have much trouble finding guys interested in her, but the girls thought if she filled out her waifish figure a bit more, she would have someone to go home with whenever she wanted. They didn’t vocalize this to her since they didn’t want to create body image issues for her, but they tried to subtly nudge food and other calories in her direction, often to little success. “Sshhh Jackie, quiet down a bit” said Amanda. The group of 7 lovingly referred to Amanda as the mom of the group. Amanda stood at 5’3 and was your typical blonde-haired blue-eyed sorority beauty who turned heads the last couple years. The group used to joke that Amanda and Kelsey were sisters, since they were both had similar features and voices. However, Kelsey was maybe an inch taller and these days she looked much slimmer than Amanda. If Hannah were to guess, Kelsey weighed maybe a trim 110-115 lbs. whereas Amanda had started to thicken. Unlike the rest of the girls, Amanda was in a relationship as of last year, and with it she had put on some comfort weight. She still looked great, but Hannah guessed she put on about 30 lbs. and weighed between 140-150 lbs. She was definitely wider overall and looked “big boned” despite having a naturally thin frame, but she certainly wasn’t fat yet. However, Amanda’s body wasn’t the only thing that changed with her new relationship. No longer feeling the need to go out and meet people, Amanda had cut her alcohol consumption and assumed the role as the responsible person in the group. She still enjoyed the girls’ company though and was always down to grab a drink or two with them. “Anyways, what makes you think you like him?” said Morgan. Like the other girls, Morgan was also very pretty facially, with hazel eyes and wavy light brown hair. That said, she was definitely the chubby girl of the group. She wasn’t quite full-on fat yet, but Hannah estimated she was probably about 220 lbs. She didn’t carry the weight terribly. Her boobs carried a decent amount of the weight and her stomach stuck out, but not further than her boobs. She did have a double chin and her arms looked like they strained her sleeves a little more than Hannah remembered the last time she wore that shirt. Despite the weight, Morgan was still very pretty and managed to bring attractive guys home on occasion. “I mean, besides the fact that he’s really attractive, I just felt like I could really talk to him. He really related to my travels in Italy and he’s pretty funny,” Hannah responded. “Hannah, you went abroad for 6 weeks. You don’t need to make it a part of your personality,” Abby joked. The table laughed. That was Abby for sure, funny and direct as always. Abby was about 5’5 with a darker complexion due to being mixed race. If Morgan was the “fat one” in the group, then Abby was the next closest. Hannah estimated she weighed a thicc 180 lbs., but luckily Abby was blessed with the genetics that made it mainly go to her boobs and ass. She might have been an hourglass a few lbs. ago, but having put on a few recently, she was starting to look rounder. However, her charming personality and direct nature meant that her extra weight didn’t hurt her chances at all. In fact, Abby was probably the most successful at getting one night stands in the group, and she fully intended on doing so tonight. “Yeah guys I get it, but seriously I’m excited to meet him at the party tomorrow” said Hannah. “Well good luck. I meet nothing, but douchebags on Tinder” responded Sydney, the last of the group of seven. If there were another person in the group that looked like a model, it was Sydney. She stood at 5’10 and was a trim 135-140 lbs. by Hannah’s estimation. She had shoulder-length raven black colored hair that slightly curled at the bottom. Her eyes were a shade of deep green that made you feel like she could see right through you and she had nice full lips. Her legs were long and slender, making her look like a runway model. Hannah liked Sydney but wasn’t quite as close to her as she was with the rest of the group. She got along with her very well, but she always felt like there was a slight tension there. Hannah often chalked it up to feeling a bit threatened by her given her gorgeous looks. Sydney had never given Hannah any indication that there was a rivalry going on and had always been nice to her, but Hannah always worried Sydney secretly judged her. The feeling got worse when Hannah had started putting on a few and as she expanded, she couldn’t help but feel like she might be upstaged by Sydney somehow. Hannah was getting chubby. Sydney was stunning. “Wow way to kill the mood Sydney” said Kelsey, probably being the next most outgoing in the group. “I say we celebrate Hannah meeting Mason and then we try to find Mason’s of our own tonight.” Kelsey raised her drink and the girls clinked glasses before gulping down a big portion of their drinks. The group ended up getting a couple more drinks before heading to the club. Normally Hannah would try to get some action, but she had Mason on her mind and even in her drunken state kept her eyes on the prize. Still, that didn’t stop her from having a good time. She ended up getting a few too many drinks with the girls at the club and danced her ass off before heading home. ---------------------- The room was still spinning for Hannah when she got back. She had a lot of fun with her friends again, but she wanted to try to get some rest so she could be mentally sharp for the party the house was hosting, and more importantly, for meeting Mason. She kept picturing his 6’2 bodybuilder body and could feel herself getting a little wet. Her hand instinctually reached toward her crotch. Control yourself, Hannah she thought as she pulled away. She knew she had to make it to her room and didn’t want to embarrass herself or wake the other sleeping sorority girls who hadn’t gone out that night. Carefully, Hannah made her way to her room, thankful her roommate Courtney was abroad this semester so she wouldn’t be waking anyone up. She passed the mirror and noticed that the dress, the one she purposely picked out because of it being looser, was grabbing a bit more at her belly. Ugh I really need to lose some of these pounds. I know some of it is just bloat from the drinks, but I’m feeling like a whale lately. She took her clothes off and noticed her belly sticking out a bit more. She then made her way to the bathroom on her side of the hall. While wiping her face off, she noticed the electronic scale in the mirror ominously waiting for her. Hannah hadn’t weighed herself in a while. Last time was a little bit after her trip to Italy, which was when she resolved to lose the extra 11 lbs. That had been before the whirlwind of a school year began, and before she knew it her clothes were starting to feel very tight on her, sometimes exposing her slightly flabby midsection. She had been avoiding the scale at all costs, but in her drunken state, Hannah didn’t find it as foreboding. I guess I might as well see the damage Hannah thought. She completely removed her clothes, powered the scale on and stepped on it. 180 lbs?! I’m closer to 200 than I am to 100 at this rate. I have to get this under control! Hannah tried to think about how much weight she gained. She remembered when she went to Italy she weighed almost 62 kilograms. Hannah remembered that because she thought it was funny to see such a small number from the weird European system. That put her at how much? Hannah couldn’t handle the mental math, so she pulled out her phone. 62 multiplied by 2.2 made her about 136 lbs. Yeah that sounded about right. So she put on-- “44 pounds?!” she gasped quietly to herself. It was even worse than she thought, and Hannah began to feel a bit self-conscious. Despite her looks, Hannah was never super vain, but it still hurt to not be in her prime. Fully naked, she examined herself in the mirror. She could have sworn her face looked a little softer and her belly had a thicker roll. What is Mason going to think when he sees me like this? She closed her eyes and breathed for a bit. When she reopened them, she eyed her naked self in the mirror again with a fresh perspective. Sure, she was softer, but she still looked very good overall. She was sure Mason would still find her very attractive, especially since they shared such a connection. Don’t panic Hannah. It’s just 44 lbs, and you’re 5’8. The pounds don’t show THAT much and you still look pretty good. After some rationalizing, Hannah felt a bit better about the situation. Maybe it was the alcohol in her blood, but it only was bothering her a little bit now. She knew that she would be getting it under control soon. Hannah stared down at the display again and noticed the number had gone away. While looking down, she saw that there was an option on the display to toggle the units of measurement to kg. Hmm, maybe I should check my weight in kilograms again. For old time’s sake. She pressed the button to toggle the settings and stepped on the scale. 82 kgs. That number didn’t sound so bad. By European standards, she hadn’t even broken into triple digits. Compared to her old weight, she had only put on, what, 20 kilograms? That sounded much better. 20 sounded like a much more manageable number. She knew it was kind of silly because it was all the same amount of weight, but something about the smaller number just made it easier to accept for her. “I wish we all weighed kilograms instead of pounds” said Hannah thinking out loud a bit **. She stepped off the scale and resumed wiping off her makeup. Sure, she might be chubby by her high standards, but when she thought about it, the looks and the flirts from guys hadn’t really slowed down. She was sure she could handle a number as small as “20 kilograms”. She smiled to herself after finding her confidence again and turned her thoughts away from her weight to her big day tomorrow. She had to set up for the party they were hosting at the sorority house tomorrow, the party she invited Mason to. Tomorrow should be a lot of fun she thought as she drifted off for the night. ----- Hannah yawned loudly as she woke up the next morning. She must have had way too much to drink last night because she still felt off. Her head was in moderate pain and she just felt a little disoriented. Was she still **? Hannah saw the early morning light beginning to filter into her room, making the outlines of her furniture lightly visible. Perhaps it was the dim lighting or the leftover alcohol in her system, but Hannah couldn’t help but feel like the room felt a bit different. Did she move some things in her drunken stupor last night? She then noticed a big outline under her covers. She must have forgotten the clothes she left on her bed last night and covered them last night when she pulled the covers up. She’d done that a few times when she’d gotten blackout **, but while the details of the night before were a bit fuzzy, she seemed to have at least some recollection of the events, so she couldn’t have blacked out. Suddenly it hit her that she really had to pee. She flung the covers off feeling a strange resistance in her arms and squinted her eyes toward the bedroom door. She then tilted her body towards the side of the bed, eyes half shut, and began to push herself up from the bed, noticing it felt oddly laborious to do so. She felt like there was someone pushing down on her as she struggled to stand up, but she got on her feet. She took a few steps then accidentally bumped her hip into her dresser. Since when was that so close to the wall? She must still be **. Why else would she still be this uncoordinated? She kept her eyes narrowed to filter as much light out as possible and walked towards her bedroom door, noticing it was difficult to move her legs. It felt like they were fighting each other, but Hannah did spend a lot of last night dancing and standing so perhaps they were fatigued. Accepting the explanation of drunkenness and fatigue, Hannah did her best to ignore the resistance of her body and walked out of her room into the hallway, then into the bathroom. Due to it still being early morning and the bathroom facing away from the morning sun, the bathroom was nearly pitch black. Reluctantly, Hannah went to flick the lights on, bracing her drunken sensitive eyes for adjusting to the brightness. She blinked a few times and turned around towards the bathroom mirror, before gasping loudly. What Hannah saw was inexplicable to her. It wore her maroon nightgown and it looked like it had her hair and eyes, but was much wider than her. At first, she thought the girls were playing a prank on her by replacing her bathroom mirror with a fun-house mirror, but on second glance it looked too realistic to be some sort of distorting. Suddenly feeling alert and sober, Hannah looked at her body for the first time this morning. The first thing Hannah noticed in the mirror when looking down was a huge pair of boobs covering herself. The nightgown was pretty loose on her, but she noticed they were sticking out much further and sagging much lower than she remembered. Upon closer inspection, she noticed another thing sticking out of her gown. It was her belly. What the FUCK is going on? Hannah thought, before realizing once again she really had to pee and walked to the toilet. She sat down on the toilet with a grunt, realizing she seemed to be higher up on the seat. Once she was finished, she got up with another grunt. As she washed her hands, she took the time to fully examine herself in the mirror. Yep, that was definitely her. Hannah noticed she still had her piercing blue eyes and well-groomed straight brown hair. However, her prominent cheekbones were all but gone at this point, as her face had widened and sprouted a double chin. Being morbidly curious about her sudden morbid obesity, Hannah decided to examine her new strange body. Her nightgown, which had been loose on her normal self, seemed to have grown with her, so she decided to slide it off as she backed up from the mirror, now noticing it might have also grown slightly larger with her. Hannah took a long hard look at her new body. Despite being way fatter than she ever pictured being, Hannah was weirdly relieved that her good genetics seemed to still have worked out for her. Well, as much as they could for someone of her gigantic new size. Like before, her boobs and ass seemed to carry most of the weight, with her ass being almost as wide as the doorway to her room. Her massive boobs sagged heavily, but this time they rested on a new belly that expanded outwards. The belly was very large and formed one huge roll rather than a double belly. Her belly expanded width-wise to attempt to meet her hips, but her hips had also expanded outwards to accommodate for it, as well her new tree trunk thighs and round calves. Hannah rotated to her side to view her profile and noticed that her belly was sticking out quite a bit, but was overshadowed by the depth of her massive boobs, boobs which she wasn’t even sure how to measure. What are they, L cups? Maybe even M cups? She also noticed she had gained in more unflattering places than before. Examining her profile some more, she first noticed that her arms were extremely thick now, fat accumulating above and even slightly below the elbow. They looked like they were as thick as her legs the night before if not thicker. Her ass also exploded outwards, blemished with slight cellulite, and they were topped with a belly and love handles that separated her legs from her torso. Despite her panic, Hannah counted her blessings. She wasn’t quite as belly heavy as many girls she had seen that were her size. She almost had an hourglass figure, if that hourglass had two massive watermelon sized bulbs filled to the brim with sand, and a neck that that was more sphere-like than cylindrical. She then started feeling her body up and down, realizing it was a bit tougher to move her arms. First, she grabbed her belly, feeling its soft flesh ripple with the resistance of her fleshier hand. She then grabbed her boobs, realizing her pudgy hands could no longer entirely hold them. She turned around and craned her neck to look at herself as she grabbed her huge ass. She could see it jiggle with the light touch of her hands. She then turned to her profile again and took a few steps forward and back, realizing just how much of her body seemed to bounce with her heavy footfalls. Her boobs, multiple back rolls, butt, even her arms seemed to move with the excess adipose. Hannah would have been weirdly fascinated if it weren’t her body, but she was still shocked looking at her transformation. After a while of examining and feeling her new body, Hannah noticed the bathroom scale in the mirror’s reflection once again. Hannah’s heart was pounding. She already felt anxiety stepping on the scale last night, and that was before her sudden expansion. Did she really want to know just how big she was now in this foreign body of hers? Hannah still wasn’t even sure if this was all real, and having a definitive number telling her she was heavier would make things seem more official to her. No, she had to know. The more information she had, the more she might be able to find out what happened. Plus she might know what she had to do to lose the weight. She braced herself and stepped on the scale 396 lbs? What the fuck?! She was nearly 400 lbs. Hannah didn’t know how to react besides with overwhelming shock. Before she could ponder it more, she heard a knocking on the bathroom door. “Hey are you almost done in there?”. It was Jackie’s voice. Hannah couldn’t let her see her like this. How would she react to her sudden expansion? Would Jackie even know it was her? There was nobody in the house as big as her, and even though Jackie wasn’t the type of person to rat out guests, she knew she was bad at keeping secrets. If the others found out, she might get kicked out of the house. Or worse, they might realize it’s her and then who knows what would happen to her reputation. Regardless, it couldn’t be good and Hannah was not ready to face it. “Hey I’m almost done, but I realize I forgot my towel. Can you close your eyes so I can leave?” “Hannah is that you? Uhh sure I can do that” Jackie responded a bit perplexed, knowing they had seen each other naked a few times. “Thanks, I’m coming out” Hannah slowly opened the door, peaking her head out through the opening to make sure Jackie was respecting her request. Hannah couldn’t help but gasp when she saw her. Jackie, petite 5'2 Jackie was fat. Hannah couldn’t help but gawk for a moment. Jackie was by no means huge, but she certainly had put on a lot of weight. Her face looked softer and wide, accentuating her Asian features, but she had yet to develop a double chin. Unlike her flat appearance before, Jackie now had some breasts to grab. Unfortunately, the belly they rested on stuck out a little bit further. However, both new features were overshadowed by the complete change in Jackie’s lower half. Jackie had developed a pear figure, and her hips and butt expanded outwards. Sure, Jackie was beyond the point where she should have gained to fill out her figure, but Hannah had to admit it was at least an improvement over her previous stick-like appearance. “Hannah, are you alright? Are you coming out soon?” Jackie said, her eyes still closed. “Oh, uh yeah I’m coming sorry”. Hannah awkwardly shuffled her way out of the door. She tried sneaking out by slightly cracking the door, but realized her massive body wouldn’t fit through the doorway unless the door was all the way open. She opened the door all the way and then waddled her way back to her room. Hannah collapsed on her bed. It had maybe been only a 20 to 30 minute bathroom trip, but Hannah felt exhausted, both mentally from what she had experienced and physically from standing for a prolonged period of time. She lied down in her bed, noticing her boobs were close to her face, and tried to digest what had happened. So she was almost 400 pounds. Jackie was fat too, but hadn’t seen her so she never really saw a reaction. The only thing Hannah had to go on then was that Jackie seemed to be act like her normal self, so evidently she didn’t notice she had also gained weight or she didn’t care. Hannah had a tough time believing she didn’t care, so maybe she had also spontaneously gained weight, but didn’t have the awareness that Hannah did? Or maybe she had always been that way? Did that mean there were others? How did this happen then? Hannah was beginning to question her sanity. Then Hannah saw her phone. Of course, maybe she could search it somehow… But what would she search? She pulled up Safari and searched “spontaneous weight gain” hoping to find a news article about a disease or maybe chemical outbreak that caused this. However, all she found were articles of what you might expect: a healthline article mentioning “Unintentional Weight Gain: Clauses, Symptoms, and Diagnosis”, a WedMD article talking about reasons for weight gain, a health.com article mentioning what might cause sudden weight gain, etc.” She sighed, right as she received an Instagram notification of someone liking her photo. Instinctually she clicked on it, her phone taking her to the photo in question. It was the bikini photo that she also had on her Tinder. The photo featured her posed on a beach during golden hour, one of her legs bent with her other outstretched, leaning on her left arm. Except this time she was fat. Hannah looked it over in detail. That photo had been taken at her thinnest, so she should not have been nearly as big as what she was looking at. However, there she was, confidently showing off her curves. Hannah did notice that, while way heavier than the original, she didn’t look as fat in that photo as she did in the mirror moments ago. Her boobs were still big, but not nearly the size of her head like they were now, and while the pose did not do her stomach any favors, she could tell it wasn’t sticking out as much. Her legs also looked a bit slimmer and her double chin was not as pronounced. Despite her looking smaller, Hannah was still wondering why she ever had the confidence to post this in the first place, when she then realized that she still had a little over 600 likes on the post, just like she had the night before. She scrolled down the comments, noticing they were completely the same, filled with praise and creepy comments from men. She scrolled back to the top comment from Courtney that said “Beautiful😍😍” and noticed her profile picture looked a bit different. Hannah clicked on her username. She was initially greeted by pictures of London from Courtney’s semester abroad, but as she scrolled down she noticed something: Courtney was also fat. She still had her blonde curly hair, but there was no question she was obese. She scrolled down further to rush week last semester where Courtney had a photo of the whole sorority in front of the sorority house. Hannah remembered it well, as all of the higher ups in the sorority posted it for good publicity and she had to like the same photo multiple times. However, this time the photo was slightly different. It looked almost identical, except it was taken from slightly further back to fit all of the girls in frame, because all of the girls were fat. Hannah pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, noticing she grabbed more of her doughy skin. She was awake alright, despite being in some big nightmare. So was everyone fat now? That would explain the thirsty comments and likes on her bikini photo despite her size. By this new world’s standards, she was thin in that photo. It would also explain why Jackie, while much larger than before, was still not obese the way that Hannah currently was. Jackie was overly skinny in their normal life, so it would make sense that she was fat, but not overly fat, in this world. Similarly, Hannah had put on weight recently, so it would explain why she was bigger now than in her bikini photo. But just how much weight had she put on? Hannah began to question it when she heard a knock on her door. “Hey Hannah it’s Jackie again. Can I come in?” Hannah thought about it for a second, but then realized she didn’t really have to keep her weight a secret anymore. “Sure, come in” Jackie walked in the door, and Hannah once again got to examine her inflated figure. Yes, Jackie was definitely still fat, though not quite the blob that Hannah felt she was. “Hey so I just wanted to make sure you’re feeling okay. You seemed a little off at the bathroom, and plus I’ve never known you to ask me to close my eyes when you leave the bathroom before. I mean, we skinny dipped together during rush week. Did I do something?” Hannah felt a bit put on the spot, trying to come up with an explanation other than being put off over her sudden obesity. “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling a little self-conscious lately. I just feel kind of…fat. And I’m a little nervous to meet Mason tonight when I’m not looking my best”. “Oh please, Hannah. It’s just a few kilos. You still look amazing. So many girls would kill for your body. If Mason isn’t head over heels in love with you by the end of the night, then something is wrong with him” Despite her enlarged state, Jackie’s words meant a lot to Hannah. It was nice to know that in this strange universe, people still saw her as attractive, and it made her a little less nervous to meet Mason tonight. Even though it was a much different Jackie than what she was used to, Hannah was happy she was just as supportive as ever. “Thanks Jackie, you’re making me feel a lot better”. “You should feel better, you’re gorgeous. Plus, we need you at your best to help set up the party in a few hours”. Hannah chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there.” “Great, then I’ll see you later.” Jackie smiled and exited Hannah’s room. Like most good social interactions, Hannah replayed the recent conversation she had with Jackie in her mind a few times. She was already feeling more relaxed knowing how she was viewed in this bizarre world. But something that Jackie said was a little bit strange to her. What did Jackie say again? “It’s just a few kilos.” Kilos as in kilograms? Why would Jackie be referring to kilograms as an American? Was she poking fun at her time in Italy? Hannah didn’t think so. It wasn’t like Jackie to joke around when people were feeling vulnerable, and it seemed to slip out of her mouth so naturally, as if it were a word she was used to. Then Hannah remembered her weigh-in today. Why did it default to pounds? Didn’t she switch it to kilograms last night? Something was fishy. Hannah, grunted again as she forced herself to get out of bed, this time minding her larger hips’ tendency to bump into things. She made her way back to the scale in the bathroom, which she could now confirm was larger than she remembered. The units were at the toggled setting which should have been kilograms based on placement, but when Hannah turned on the screen it read “lbs.” on the righthand side. Hannah toggled the switch to the opposite selection, and sure enough it switched back to kilograms. She pondered why kilograms was the new normal and had a theory, but she needed to confirm. She stepped on the scale. 180 kgs. Hannah recognized that number immediately. She had weighed in at 180 lbs. last night. Now she weighed the exact same number, except it was in kilograms. Hannah thought back to her drunken wish last night. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Somehow, whatever magical forces there were misinterpreted her request out loud and had made everyone weigh kilograms instead of pounds. It would explain why everyone in this world had ballooned overnight, and why someone as skinny as Jackie hadn’t become a complete butterball. In this universe, Jackie was still rail thin, crazy as that might seem. Hannah was confused and frustrated. Why, out of all the prayers the universe could have listened to it chose this one, which wasn’t even a real one? And clearly this wasn’t what she meant. Whatever power answered this request had to be a malevolent one. She tried to digest this information, then came to the realization that she had recently put on 44 lbs. At the time, she was happy that it was only 20 kgs., but if the world had replaced kilograms with pounds that would mean she put on 44 kgs, which would mean she put on… “96.8 pounds. Almost 100 pounds” she whispered to herself. Hannah was kicking herself. It was one thing to put on 44 lbs., but in this universe she had put on 44 kgs. There was no way she would have ever been skinny if this transformation had occurred, but knowing she was lugging around an extra 100 lbs. due to her indulgence made her regret her past decisions even more. Ugh it is what is I guess. I just would have liked to be a smaller blob. Hannah walked back to her room, already noticing her heart rate beginning to climb. She pulled up her bikini picture again. She would have killed to be “just” 300 lbs. like she was there. Sure, 400 lbs. in this universe might not be viewed the same way as in her old universe, but it didn’t stop her from feeling the physical effects. She got back to her room and plopped herself on her bed again, noticing her belly and boobs jiggle.

This is a darker supernatural weight gain story. I apologise in advance for the lack of proper grammar or coherent tense, this is my first story 😕 PROLOGUE: THE FAT FLAT WITCH The block of council flats rose out the concrete jungle like a pimple, forever making its’ presence known through the brutal discordant racket of the inhabitants. The occult detective approached the chaos unperturbed. Slipping through the front door without effort, he banked left and up the staircase, bracing himself for the uncomfortable noise of everyday life, intensified by the curse blanketing the area. The vague, volatile arguments of floor six’s occupants were louder than the rest of the estate by a margin. Thankful for his earplugs, the diminutive detective carried onward towards the end of the corridor, to the door vibrating in a frequency few could perceive. Before he could knock, it swung open by its own accord. Despite his age, the young man had seen too many bizarre occurrences, and caused too many, to be fazed by it in the slightest. Though it still took him a moment to edge through the doorway into the flat beyond. While the world outside was messy and loud, the flat was eerily silent and minimalistic. The detective gently shut the door, removed the plugs and adjusted his hooded jacket as he followed the hallway into the lounge. The décor remained sparse except for an overabundance of candles clustered over what little furniture and shelving was present. A nightmare for any safety inspector, but an enhancement to any illusion happened to be cast. “I’d thought they’d send someone older” purred a statuesque brunette, who raised herself out the shadowy corner armchair and into the candlelight. She was stark naked. “I’m almost a little insulted, you must be what, 19?!” she giggled, trying to draw attention to her pert breasts as they bounced slightly by squeezing her arms inward and pushing out her chest. “23, Ms Cabot. My name’s Henry. Could you please not stand so closely to my right, it’s mildly unnerving” The illusion dispersed. The tall, lithe stunner evaporated, and a flabby, angry, middle aged woman materialised beside him. Equally naked. Shocked for an instant, the detective was almost caught by the knife swung aggressively at his head, but swerved out of range and hopped to the other end of the room; awaiting another attack by channeling his mana through his slender arms. The attack came almost immediately. Henry deftly deflected the knife, which had been launched telekinetically at his head, into a painting to his right. The two combatants circled each other. Ms Cabot seemed tired already. Her large breasts continued to heave upwards and then settle just over the bottom of her ribcage, which had been buried under blubber via decades of being an overindulgent homebody. Her thick legs and globular arse jiggled with every motion she made. She wouldn’t be able to keep up him if she tried, so Henry assumed a ranged approach would be the only way she could effectively attack him. He assumed correctly. Threads of oily gunk began rapidly squirting out the witch’s palms, and once they reached a metre in length Ms Cabot swung her soft arms across her chest to snap the threads like two razor wire whips. Whips steadily increasing in length, and therefore reach. Most sorcerers would have begun to panic about the increasingly restrictive environment, but not Henry. He danced between each lethal whip crack, then unleashed small bursts of concussive force from his extended index and middle finger when he became cornered to snap the threads back towards their user. This continued until Ms Cabot’s whips converged upon the corner armchair Henry had perched on…and entangled them within its thick wooden frame. It only cost her a second, but one she couldn’t afford. Before her whips had been brought under control, the young occult detective had closed the distance, digging his index and pinkie finger into a love handle. A small bolt of electricity connected the digits. Ms Cabot shook, jiggled and collapsed. Not waiting for her to stand, Henry tore what looked like a circular ink stamp from the inside of his jacket and pinned the older, larger woman to the ground with a twist of her arm. Skilfully popping the lid off the stamp he brought it down hard between her shoulder blades. Ms Cabot let out a quick shriek as the soul seal activated. Ink diffused through the witch’s skin, first as a singular blot before separating and etching an intricate web of sigils around her entire torso. The process took several nervous seconds to complete. Henry tried to ignore the fact he was straddling a completely naked woman nearly old enough to be his mother. That said woman’s body was gently rippling underneath him from her exhausted panting… Or his growing compulsion to grab a handful of her flabby sides that were oozing around his legs every time she breathed out. Brusquely getting up, Henry slipped a letter out his jacket and placed it aside the still shattered Ms Cabot, who slowly twisted her head to look at the envelope, cellulite ridden butt still jutting towards the ceiling. The 39 year old rolled clumsily onto her back and sat up, grunting in the effort. Her gut flopped over her crotch and bulged out onto her chunky thighs. Sitting down, her belly apron was squashed into a globe of flab which made her look 6 months pregnant. Henry tore his eyes away and struggled to focus on the task at hand. “Ms Margaret Cabot, for offences including: illicit pathokinesis of the inhabitants of your place of residence, strictly prohibited bodily modification of two women from the local university…and attempted murder of a government official, your soul has been sealed. You will no longer be able to access your mana until permitted by O.S.C.U.” Wanting to leave and burn the experience from his memory, the occult detective swivelled on his heels and paced across the lounge towards the door. A snigger Henry stopped in his tracks. “She was right about you, little detective! Did you enjoy gawking at my big, heavy tits as they flopped about?! Or how my tubby thighs are so thick I had to waddle around our little play-area? I could feel your excitement straddling such a fat cow…did you like how my globular ass pinned me to the floor, and how I wobbled like jelly under you?!” A slap snapped Henry’s gaze from the door to the defeated witch. She stuck out and slapped her colossal butt again for emphasis, causing a cascade of ripples throughout her corpulent body. Her cheeks bounced lazily, like two beach balls filled with cake mix, protruding out like a shelf behind her. “Who was right about me?” Henry hissed. He felt frozen. He wanted desperately to leave but he NEEDED to know more. His desperation felt unnatural to him. Why was he so transfixed? Was it some vapour from the candles? “You’ll find out soon!” Cabot paused for a second before turning round and groping her belly, lifting it up so it stuck straight out in front of her, “And it’s a massive, bulbous tummy like this one that you’ll ultimately worship in the end, not your precious O.S.C.U!” She rubbed her rounded gut and moaned unnaturally. Her paunch seemed to expand after every breath, swelling out past her fat udders and wobbling as it went. If it had looked 6 months pregnant before, it was now months overdue, but still completely soft and doughy. “You’re going make such an adorable little traitor Henry…and your erection tells me you can’t deny that!” Margaret leaned forward, her now obviously larger belly dragging her down onto all fours. Despite having no access to her own magic, something was causing the witch to swell outwards. She dragged herself across the floor, her tits and gut slapping into each other and her bulky thighs as she approached. But before she could reach Henry, she collapsed onto her gelatinous belly. The expansion had stopped, leaving Ms Cabot immobile and futilely wriggling around trying to grasp his crotch with her chubby fingers. Abruptly snapping out with indecision, Henry sprinted out the flat and slammed the door. That didn’t happen, it couldn’t have. Maybe the candles gave him a weird high after he’d beaten her and let his guard down? He wouldn’t betray an organisation that had been his entire adult life. He didn’t have anything else. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t… He needed help. Maybe he should ring the director? ***** CHAPTER 1: OFFICE OVERINDULGENCE Catherine staggered past the WHSmiths on her usual morning trek through the city centre to work. She’d clearly overdone it on the previous evening’s run, again, and was paying for it in stiffness that made her doubt her commitment to staying in shape. Her doubt was misplaced, her work rightly demanded absolute dedication to her physique. Any slip up during their duties could be a fatal one, and Catherine didn’t have any particular skill in magic to compensate for not being in peak fitness. Whether she’d be able fight anything in her current condition however, was another question. Catherine swerved down a back alley just off from the main highstreet and was met with a comforting site. Jade seemed in just as bad a shape as she was. The imposing woman was cradling a coffee and muttering under her breath, clearly hungover. “Have fun?” Catherine teased, craning her head to look up to the far taller woman. Receiving an exasperated grunt in response, she decided to press further. “How’s Mateen, did he enjoy a muscular girl overwhelming him as much as you’d…” Catherine was cut off by a swift thump, which almost toppled her over. “Shut it pipsqueak! Can we just go in already?, I heard the director wanted to see us this morning, so I need to get it over with so I can go curl up and die please.” The two women stumbled across the small car park and practically fell into the main reception of O.S.C.U headquarters. An elderly secretary waved them on. Both casually thanked her, referring to her using different names. The secretary grumbled something about not being appreciated, but Catherine and Jade were already well out of earshot and past their attention span to notice. They paced, and then suddenly sprinted towards the far wall. A sickening squelch erupted upon contact as they were sucked beyond it. Arriving in the main offices, they took a right and cautiously ascended upstairs to their desks. The O.S.C.U office building seemed specifically designed to encourage field detectives to go out on their assigned cases. Desks were wedged together haphazardly and filing cabinets sprung up like weeds wherever there was free space, creating a cluttered garden of oppressive paperwork. The employees attempted to remedy this with a random array of personal items, marking their territory of chaotic mess from the rest. In vain. It was a shithole. Finding their personal section of the shithole, handily marked with a stack of fitness magazines, unread romantic novels and a game of thrones poster they’d tried to torch after season 8, Jade and Catherine collapsed into their chairs. They were surprised to spot that the director was decidedly absent from her office on the far side of the 2nd floor. Nor could they spot her below from the balcony. Director Theresa Sanderson was arguably the tightest laced member the Occult Special Crimes Unit had ever recruited, and a stone cold force of nature. She was so assured of her abilities that she released her surname to the public shortly after her promotion to director. A surname could be used a strong tool for curses against any but the strongest of wills, and the director refused to care in the slightest. The last time she’d been late for work was when she’d been exorcising an arch demon of hell that had torn apart half a borough. There was a reason the 35 year old was considered the vanguard of occult justice. So where was she? “Should we go knock on her office door again?” Catherine was beginning to get worried, though admittedly her sore legs dissuaded her from taking the initiative to head over herself. “We can wait another couple minutes. She’s probably in the loo or something Lottie, no need to threat” Jade seemed to have recovered abit from her headache, and the 27 year old instinctually sank back into role of reassuring cool headedness to combat her younger colleague’s high energy impulsivity. Quickly becoming bored, Catherine began rummaging through their shared desk space. Catherine despised paperwork, so ignored the case files on the desk completely in favour of the odds and ends in their drawers. Elastic bands were twanged, paperclips stacked and pencils beat like drumsticks, but nothing scratched the itch she had to do something. Just as Jade was about to lose her patience and snap at her, something caught Catherine’s eye. Subtle movement from Sanderson’s office. Alerting Jade, they both sighed in relief and headed over. The director must have slipped into work without them noticing. Before they made it, a petite figure abruptly appeared in front of them, barring their way with a grin that dominated the rest of their face. “HI nice to meet you my name’s Isabella from the record department, are you here to see Director Sanderson too?!” exhaled the tiny young woman in front of them, fidgeting on her heels like an excited child. Her elven heritage was unmistakable. Besides her size, Isabella’s long, partially prehensile ears were twitching as much as she was, and her saucer-like eyes gave her a feline, and slightly unsettling quality that contrasted her otherwise adorable demeanour. Taken aback by the cute assault, Jade and Catherine merely nodded and headed towards the door to the office. Isabella flitted past them and burst into the room without knocking. While initially stunned by the snappy entrance, the director welcomed them and gestured for them to sit. The half-elf woman immediately took her seat, but the other women took their time... something wasn’t quite right with the director. For starters, Theresa’s severe business suit had been replaced with a soft cardigan. Her usually pristine desk was in a mess, and instead of stationary arranged by size and colour, snacks littered polished mahogany surface. Theresa was visibly struggling not to nab one as she introduced the women to Isabella. Jade was mildly annoyed when the director referred to her strength as ‘beast-like’, but held her tongue. Her concern for the director was rapidly becoming more of a pressing issue. Theresa lost her battle with temptation multiple times throughout the introductions, nibbling on bar after bar of chocolate. “Are you okay director?” Jade cautiously queried. Theresa looked confused by the question, and hurriedly went to searching for the case file describing the group’s assignment. Realising it was in a cabinet behind her, Sanderson hefted herself upright. The director’s body had once been an intensely wiry vehicle of destruction, but it had apparently softened into a vehicle of lazy nights and overindulgence. While no means massive, Theresa was now noticeably skinny fat. Her arms, once thick with muscle were now slimmer and jiggled slightly as pushed and pulled the cabinet in her search. Her butt had widened and sank slightly, and the seams of her very uncharacteristic sweatpants audibly strained when she leant over the lower shelves. Obtaining the thick file at last, a small roll of blubber crept over the waistband of her trousers as she silently sighed in relief. “Sorry about the delay, I’ve been preoccupied with other things and misplaced it.” Jade shot Catherine a death glare before she could comment. She sunk back into her chair, becoming bored. “But I hope that doesn’t delude you to this case’s utmost importance. The Leckermaul coven of witches has been a thorn in the occult world’s side for centuries, and their crimes against both the magic and mundane communities have been steadily increasing over the past 3 decades. The lives ruined and taken by them cannot be left unavenged. A recent development has brought them back into the limelight. A fellow investigator incapacitated one Margaret Cabot last week, and she decided to come forward this morning with information on the location of another, more prominent member.” Catherine sat back up in her seat. The coven weren’t the most dangerous group of rogue sorcerers, but the recognition from taking them down would easily put her on track to rise within and outside the organisation. Catherine had loftier ambitions than being a detective her entire life, and a job like this would allow her to open doors into something greater. “You have been assigned to apprehend this member, Miss Jennifer Kale, from the Fae settlement of Shyllone and extract as much information as possible from her” “Just the three of us?” Jade questioned. While she was excited, there was no way only 2 field agents could take an entire coven on, even ones as skilled as her and Catherine. “No, the team will remain small, but there will be 4 of you in total. You two will be the muscle, and Miss Isabella will carry out consultation and negotiation within Shyllonne. You will also have additional help from another detective specialising in the combative application of magic.” Catherine scoffed at that. While taught to everyone in the department, there was rarely any wide application of magic beyond enhancing ones physical abilities and the enchantment of tools in her opinion. Most who attempted anything more complicated ended up dead fast unless they were truly gifted. Theresa spotted her derision, “I assure you that I personally recommended this detective for a reason Catherine. His name is Henry.” ******

Hi my name is Nathan Black, I'm a newly published author on Amazon. I have some shameless self promotion ahead. I wrote a book that might be up everyone's alley here. In it, the leading character, a vampire, is helped by his ex girlfriend who happens to be a magic user. In this world Magic requires energy to cast and in young magic users this energy must come from the wizard's body. Casting magic burns huge amounts of calories so in order to survive Jessica has to gain weight in anywhere from a few pounds up to several hundred pounds. The book is available in paperback through Amazon and Amazon Kindle. If you have a kindle unlimited plan you can read it for free. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading! https://www.amazon.com/Curse-Pandora-Woke-Dead-Book-ebook/dp/B01HYQEEU4/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1470601699&sr=8-3&keywords=curse+of+pandora#nav-subnav https://www.amazon.com/Curse-Pandora-Woke-Dead-Book/dp/1530112044/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1470601699&sr=8-2&keywords=curse+of+pandora

Hi all, This is a story that I have been working on for some time but had been waiting to post until complete. It's a tale of a young man whose lust for his mom sets him down a magical, time-bending, and fattening path. I hope you enjoy. Mom and the Magic Ring By Vigilante Prologue: The Lady and the Ring ‘Splash, splash, splash’. Prudence Pole was usually asleep at this hour, a quarter past two in the morning, but tonight her hurried footsteps through ankle-deep water echoed loudly off the sewer walls. Under ordinary circumstances a lady of her standing, the youngest of an old and noble family, wouldn’t have stepped foot in a place like this - where the filth of Plymouth City channelled into the sea - but desperate times called for desperate measures. - - - - Two years ago she had been the sole heiress to a sizeable estate and immeasurable fortune. Pole ancestry boasted some of the greatest explorers that the world had ever seen. Her family had discovered new lands, and grown enormously wealthy off the resources they had plundered. That had finished over three generations ago of course. Nowadays the Pole’s sat back and enjoyed the material riches that their forebears had acquired, an art which Prudence had refined to dizzying new heights. In-between the partying, socialising, and extravagant living, Prudence was patiently waiting for her parents to agree on an appropriate marriage. At least, that’s what she wanted them to think... Since the tender age of 16, she had been involved in a scandalous romance with Edward, one of the family’s stable boys. Though initially intending to spite her parents by choosing a poor (or perhaps the worst available) match, she was quickly swept off her feet by the young man’s kindness, sincerity, and host of other virtues in which Prudence herself was sorely lacking. With every passing month she fell deeper in love, and by 20 they were scheming their elopement and a new life far away from the city. That was, until his untimely death in a hunting accident. It plunged her into a deep depression that consumed her every waking moment, to the point that she couldn’t even bear to leave her room. Her parents, concerned that their only progeny was going to waste away in her ivory tower, sent for doctors and healers from across the land, with the promise of wealth and power for any that could bring their daughter back to them. Over the following years many came knocking on her bedroom door, but all left disappointed. That was, until an unexpected arrival one cool summer evening - an elderly woman, with skin as dark as the night sky - who spoke of arcane magic and voodoo restoration. Prudence’s parents might have turned her away at the beginning, but they were now so desperate to find an answer to their daughter’s strife that they welcomed her into their home with open arms. The voodoo healer had started much the same as her forbears, asking questions about Prudence’s life, deducing that her affliction was one of a broken heart. But as Prudence stared into the woman’s cold, black eyes, she found herself strangely entranced, unable to look away, and before she could stop herself was telling her about Edward, their undying love, his accident, and the empty void this had left in her life. Words tumbled out of her mouth like blood gushing from an open wound, and the woman listened silently. When finished, Prudence had slumped back in her chair, out of breath and out of sorts, while the woman had risen from her seat and moved over to the fire that was cracking softy in an impressive stone hearth. She began chanting in strange tongues and casting an odd collection of objects from her long, matted overcoat into the flames. They danced blue-green, and as Prudence stared she saw flickers of Edward’s face amongst the soot and smoke. The woman asked for a trinket of her lover’s, something touched by his own hands. To her dismay, Prudence had realised that she had only one such object in her possession, a black onyx ring that he had gifted her on her 18th birthday. It was a common gemstone in an ornate but cheap bronze setting, worth no more than a single silver shilling, but she treasured it far above the many other precious jewels that her name bequeathed. As much as it pained her, the brief glimpse of Edward’s face in the fire had given her a sense of hope, like there might be something to live for after all. After a moment’s hesitation, she tore the ring off her finger and, shaking, handed it to the woman. As the healer held it in her hands above the fire, she turned to Prudence and said in her deep, raspy voice, “my people lived a solitary and peaceful existence. I was a child when they arrived, your ancestors. We did not speak their language, but we understood their intentions soon enough. They took our land, our idols, our food. We were left with nothing and forced to flee - many never made it, starved to death as we sought out a new home. Such unimaginable hunger…”. Her beady black eyes narrowed. The hairs on the back of Prudence’s neck stood to attention. “The ring will grant you the power you seek, to bend history to your will. But at a price. You will atone for your crimes against my people. Rewrite your story, but beware the flap of the butterfly’s wings”. With that, the aged healer opened her palm towards the floor and let the ring tumble downwards. As it grazed the fire’s tallest flame there was a flash of light, an earth-shattering ‘bang’, and a blast that knocked Prudence of her feet. Darkness overcame her. She had awoken to the sound of panicked voices. Her young maid, Eugene, rushing across the room to sit down by her side, her mother’s cries of relief that her daughter was shaken but unharmed, and her father’s violent curses about the voodoo healer, who had slipped past his guards and out of the estate without being seen or heard by a soul. It was many hours later that Prudence had ushered the last of them out of her room, and rushed over to her fireplace. Plunging her hands into the sooty remains - the last of the embers had died some time ago - her hand closed around a warm metal object, and heart racing, she pulled out the blacked ring. Wasting no time at all, and all but disregarding the healer’s ominous threats, she had forced it back onto her bony finger and mustered all of her energy, thinking back to the day of Edward’s accident. And it had worked. She couldn’t explain how, but on opening her eyes Prudence was no longer stood in the middle of her sooted bedroom, but rather outside the aged Manor House gates. A horn sounded from behind them, and they creaked open, revealing a large hunting party headed-up by her father’s large grey destrier, and by its side... Edward. If he had been surprised by his secret lover’s appearance, dressed only in her nightgown, outside the gates, it was nothing compared to Prudence’s shock at seeing him standing before her. Thankfully she was accosted by her family’s guards before she could lunge herself at him, and thinking on her feet, span a hasty lie about wanting to go riding that morning and needing her horse to be attended to. It was not long before she was walking back towards the stables with Edward, as the hunting party rode-off deep into the forest. She took him there and then, amidst the muck and dirt of the stables. Purest pleasure pulsed through her veins as she rode back and forth atop him, and afterwards, they made plans to leave the house the very next day and start their new life together. As she lay down to rest that evening, Prudence closed her eyes and wished herself back to the present... - - - - Prudence splashed through the sewer, wheeling around a corner and coming to a fork in the tunnel. Curses! What had the city guard she bribed told her...? Left...? She dived down the leftmost passage, and as the long tunnel stretched out into the darkness ahead, she drifted back into her reverie... - - - - Prudence had opened her eyes to the drab interior of a bunkhouse room, the hustle and bustle of a busy market street audible through an open window. A baby cried from a raggedy old cot at the foot of her bed, and she sat up gingerly, getting out of bed to try and make sense of her surroundings. As she took her first step, Prudence felt an odd sensation around her midriff, and looked down to inspect herself. She was... fat! A pasty white belly bulged out from beneath her tits, and as her hands moved around her body she felt rolls where there had previously been curves, and pudge where there had previously been muscle. How could this have happened?! The baby cried again, louder this time, and Prudence moved over to the crib, picking it up and rocking it gently. It rested its head against her heavy breasts and dozed quietly, while Prudence’s mind whirled. She waited for hours, in the hope that Edward would walk through the door and help her piece together her missing memories. After what seemed like an age there was a scratching of keys at the door. Blackened and tired-looking, he trudged into the room, and after he had settled down on a threadbare armchair Prudence coaxed the truth out of him. They had arrived in London two weeks after having fled her parent’s estate. It was not long afterwards they discovered that two would become three – Prudence had fallen pregnant after their romp in the barn. Edward had taken the first job he could get, down at the wharf, while Prudence had put her feet up at home and... gorged herself. Going from pampered heiress to a lowly expectant mother was clearly quite a change of pace, and apparently, her willpower wasn’t as strong as she thought. By the time she was due the midwife thought she was expecting triplets. Instead, she delivered one healthy baby, and one obese mother, who was given a strict telling off for getting so plump. That hadn’t changed anything, however, and Edward noted bashfully that now Prudence was even larger than she was when she was ready to pop. She listened with increasing horror - how had this happened? The voodoo healer never warned her about such side effects. Or... had she? “The flap of the butterfly’s wing”... Atonement for the starvation of her people... Unimaginable hunger… Oh dear... As Prudence went to bed that evening, her belly full from the weight of the large dinner she had shovelled down - her new body was ravenous - she considered her next move. Perhaps she could make the best of this? Weight gain aside, she finally had what she wanted - Edward, freedom, a family - maybe she’d stay here and make this work. She rolled over to embrace him, but as the rolls of her stomach touched his back, he shuddered and grunted, “oh... not tonight darling... not since... well, you know I preferred your old body...”. No sex. Prudence closed her eyes and, in a flash, was standing back outside the Manor House gates. It was time for a re-write. As the hunting horn sounded she readied herself for a second encounter with Edward, but had been shocked to discover that her added girth had stayed with her for the return journey! Surely someone would notice that she’d put on 50lbs overnight?! But they did not. As the hunting party faced her through the open gates, no one looked surprised to see a plump Prudence standing in front of them. When she told her father that she wanted to go on a horse ride he had even clapped his hands together with glee, and boomed, “physical exercise? Well, I’m not going to stand in the way of that!”. A few minutes later she and Edward had re-tread their footsteps back to the stables, and making sure that a brief kiss on the cheek was as lucky as he was going to get today, Prudence said her goodbyes and skipped back up to the Manor House. When out of sight, she closed her eyes and wished herself back to the present. The smell of freshly baked bread stung her nostrils. Opening her eyes, Prudence was momentarily overwhelmed by the swarm of people in front of her, all pointing and chatting loudly. “Come on dear, we’ve got hungry customers to feed!”, a familiar voice called from behind her, and wheeling around she saw Edward wearing a large chef’s hat and standing in an impressive open kitchen. Moving effortlessly, he rolled a large slab of dough, took a tray of sizzling brownies from an oven, and put the finishing touches to a tray of red-velvet cupcakes. Tearing her eyes away from Edward’s newfound culinary prowess, she took a moment to inspect in her surroundings. She was standing in a bright and airy bakery, behind a counter that was chocked full of goodies which a hungry public was waiting impatiently on the other side to purchase. The queue stretched out of the door and around the corner - it must be quite popular! She caught the name etched into the other side of the storefront, and managed to translate it from back to front. “Princess to Pauper Bakery, London, est. 1621”. So, had she and Edward moved to London and started up a shop? Well, it seemed to be going rather well, this was much more like it! Remembering why she had travelled back in the first place, Prudence grimaced and looked down at her body. What she saw made her heart fall like a stone. She was still fat - fatter even - her little apron bulging outwards on all sides, as it struggled to contain the corpulence within. She caught a glimpse of her profile in the metal over to her left - her belly jutted out further than it ever had, giving her the appearance of a soft, fat, pregnant lady, whilst her backside had grown saggier, counterbalancing the new weight around her middle. She had to be at least 100 pounds larger than she’d been before. She was shaken from her shock by a middle-aged woman shouting from across the counter, “come on, I haven’t got all day. These cakes must be to die for, I mean look at what they’ve done to you!”. Before she could muster a response, Edward bounded up behind her and reached an arm around her front, cupping her flabby belly. He bounced it softly and laughed, “when we opened up shop two years ago this was as flat as a washboard, but after I started leaving the leftovers for Prudence to snack on during the day...”, he lifted her blouse to reveal her soft lower belly to the onlookers, “it started to grow!”. Prudence blushed as the crowd of women in front of her craned their necks to get a look at her bulging tummy. Some gasped and pointed, others giggled and whispered behind hands to their neighbours. Edward continued, “in these difficult times, what with the poor harvests last year, it’s truly the sign of a remarkable product that a woman can eat herself up to this size. And in honour of my wife’s weight gain...”, he squeezed her gut with both hands, emphasising to the onlookers just how much fatty flesh was hanging off her middle, “today if you buy a dozen products, you’ll get a half-dozen free!”. The crowd hummed with excitement and rushed forwards, money clenched in shaking fists, and he pulled away, but not before whispering, “excellent, this should create quite the buzz around town. Make sure to eat double helpings of leftovers from now on - I want them to see you bigger every time they step through the door”. So she was his fattened advertisement? A walking billboard for how good his cakes were, that he’d let even his wife double or triple in size? Prudence closed her eyes, and in an instant, the smell of baked bread was replaced by morning dew, as she found herself back outside the increasingly familiar Manor House gates. She waited patiently for the sound of the hunting horn, which, like clockwork, sounded a few moments later. Out strode the hunting party, her father and Edward leading the charge, and she spun her now well-rehearsed tale about wanting to go for a morning ride. Her father looked back, confusion etched into his face, and said uncertainly, “but... darling, surely you remember... your horse is still unwell… his poor back...”. His cheeks shone red underneath his bushy grey beard. “I’ve been trying to buy you another, but finding one that can handle a woman of your... well it’s proving difficult. Perhaps if you were to lose a bit of weight...”, he trailed-off, avoiding her gaze. Prudence was surprised, though glancing down at her new wider body, she supposed it wasn’t that hard to believe. Thinking on the spot, she corrected herself and requested instead an able-bodied young man to assist her with rearranging her furniture, knowing full well only one of the hunting party before her fit the bill. And so it was that a short while later she and Edward were making the familiar trip across the lawn towards the stables. All the while, Prudence considered her next use of the ring. Being poor hadn’t worked out very well, and being self-made had been even worse, but perhaps if she was able to retain some of her wealth rather than leave it all behind that would make all the difference? Once they reached the relative solitude of the stables, they schemed to steal from her family vaults, and after a few days of preparation, staged a successful heist. They only took a fraction of the contents of course - a bit of old silverware, some of the less impressive jewels, a few gold bullion - but it was more than enough for the two of them to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. Once safely in their carriage to London town Prudence closed her eyes and wished herself back to the present... - - - - Prudence stumbled as her foot caught an uneven stone on the sewer floor, and flung her arm out to stop herself from falling. Mercifully, her hand grasped around a rocky outcrop, and she was able to steady herself before she came crashing down into the disease-ridden waters below. That was close - a broken ankle down here and she might not have any choice but to use the ring again, and that wasn’t an option she wished to explore. Prudence took a moment to collect herself, and then continued her journey, taking additional care to watch her step. She thought back to that fateful third use of her new powers... - - - - A light breeze swept across her face, as the air turned hot and humid, stinging her nostrils. Prudence opened her eyes to see a young woman wearing a silk veil across her face, fanning her softly. “You’re awake my Lady, I thought perhaps we had lost you all afternoon to this heat. Hottest summer in a century they say”. She wasn’t kidding - Prudence could feel the sweat dripping down her back, and still slightly dazed, swung her legs off the chaise lounge she was sitting on and tried to stand. But... she couldn’t... The veiled woman stopped fanning immediately and rushed down to put an arm around her, crying, “you should have warned me, my Lady, you know I’m here to help with such matters”. Grunting, she pulled Prudence up off the seat and into a standing position. Prudence gingerly attempted to walk forwards, but her legs were still struggling to move. She looked down to see what was the matter, and to her horror realised that she couldn’t see her legs at all! They were obscured by the crest of an enormous belly, which was as round and flabby as it had ever been. She turned towards a tall free-standing mirror in the corner of the room, and saw that she was even larger than before - rolls of fat bulging out in all directions. A shadow of her former beauty. “What... how... so fat?”, Prudence mumbled, as the woman guided Prudence closer to the mirror, the true extent of her weight gain becoming clearer with every shuddering step. The woman supporting one of her flabby arms replied cautiously, “well... when you moved here you hired me and the other girls to help out with cooking and cleaning, and it wasn’t long before... we started feeding you too”. Her cheeks flushed red, and she continued, “‘the ultimate decadence’ you called it. Not having to lift a finger, even to feed yourself. And, well... it didn’t take long for you to start... growing”. She hastened to add, “but I think you look fabulous my Lady, a true picture of wealth and elegance”. In truth, as she stared at her reflection all Prudence could see was a gluttonous piggy staring back at her. ‘Rumble’, ‘rumble’. The ground had started to shake, as if struck by a series of increasingly strong earthquakes, as something heavy moved closer and closer towards the open door. As the thunderous footsteps reached their peak, in walked an enormously fat man that Prudence didn’t recognise, or... did she? Edward?! If Prudence had considered herself to have gained weight, it was nothing compared to what had happened to her fit young lover. Edward’s hips were four times as wide as they used to be - overflowing with milky white blubber that poured over the top of the towel that was draped around his thighs. His belly hung low over his crotch, and he was not wearing a top at all, which highlighted the two juicy melons hanging from his chest. They were each larger than her head and bounced satisfyingly with every step. Edward waddled into the room and took a seat in a heavy reclined arm-chair, his fat bulging up against the sides. Two veiled women followed him into the room, carrying an assortment of desserts. One settled to his left and started hand feeding him chocolates from a silver platter, whilst the other stood to his right, and gently caressed his belly. Now seated, Prudence could see up the small towel he was wearing, but there was no sign of his manhood. It appeared to have been lost to the blubber closing in on all sides. The sight of her feminised, fattened boyfriend etched into her retinas, Prudence considered her next move. She would simply have to use the ring once more, until she found a way to fix this mess. And she did. Again and again, each trip proving more disastrous, and fatter, than the last. She tried staying and home and giving up on her dream of eloping, only to find that she’d been fattened up by her parents for a marriage to a wealthy bachelor with a penchant for the larger lady. She tried telling her parents about Edward and pleading with them to let him live with her at the Manor House, only to find that she’d been banished to a monastery in Italy where the matronly nuns had fed her up to the point that no man would want to sully her good name. She tried pleading with Edward to make sure she stayed thin over the next couple of years, no matter what she said or did to the contrary, only to find that he had started to enjoy watching her eat and get fat, turning into her dedicated feeder. She even tried breaking it off with Edward, as much as it pained her, only to find that seeing him with other girls had sent her into an even bigger spiral of depression, and had her overeating more than ever before. After this last jump, Prudence couldn’t bring herself to try again, the emotional and physical toll was becoming too much to bear. So over 350lbs heavier than when the ring had first graced her finger, and surrounded by the empty dessert trays that she just gorged herself on, Prudence sat on her balcony and watched Edward chatting to a busty housemaid in the grounds below. So engrossed was she in their conversation, that she barely registered that her young maid Eugene had joined her on the balcony. Eugene frowned as she surveyed the empty plates surrounding Prudence, “I thought your mother gave you strict instructions that sweets were off-limits until you could fit into last year’s birthday gown?”. She followed Prudence’s gaze out across the grounds towards the stables, where Edward and the housemaid were now kissing passionately atop a hay bale. “Damn that Rosamond, her looks will get her in trouble one of these days”, she continued huffily, “but at least she’s out there having a bit of fun. Maybe if you were more inclined to put your mouth around men’s lips instead of cakes, you’d be a bit happier with your lot”. The old Eugene had been a pretty but shy girl, star-struck by her charge’s status and beauty. However as Prudence’s weight climbed so did Eugene’s confidence, and it had not escaped Prudence’s notice that whilst she was quick to tease, Eugene never failed to keep her well-fed. She had concluded that the maid rather enjoyed keeping her morbidly obese. “I’m trying”, she lied, shifting her weight nervously, “I might be able to fit back into it...”. Eugene snorted and stepped into the bedroom, returning a few moments later with a cream corset, the undergarment necessary to fit into the rest of the dress. She then knelt in front of Prudence and parted her nightgown, revealing her vast body underneath. Eugene giggled, “you’re crazy if you think that all of this”, she placed a hand on each of Prudence’s overflowing tits and gave them a hearty shake, “is going to fit into that”. The humiliation made Prudence’s cheeks flush red, but there was something oddly satisfying about having her body jiggled, so she let her maid have her fun. Once she was done, Prudence defiantly stood-up - the effort of which required a good deal of grunting and left her a little out of breath - and let the nightgown fall to the floor. Even Eugene looked shocked as she saw her huge naked body, wobbling gently in the early morning sunlight. Every cellulite-ridden roll, the product of years of over-eating, exposed for the world to see. Unsurprisingly, Prudence was only able to get the corset about two-thirds closed, her great belly bulging out so far in front of her that it made fastening the garment impossible. She hadn’t realised quite how fat she had gotten in just under a year... Eugene giggled and said smugly, “see, I knew you wouldn’t be able to fit into it! Your mother isn’t going to be happy at all. Her precious daughter needing another new wardrobe to contain her blubber!”. She walked around Prudence, inspecting her backside, giving the soft flesh a gentle stroke, her fingers bouncing in and out of her craterous cellulite, pausing briefly to bounce one heavy buttock in her hand. “I think one of these weighs as much as me!”, she giggled, tracing a finger along Prudence’s flabby flank as she walked back around to face her. Eugene was momentarily distracted by something over Prudence’s shoulder. Turning, she saw that things were steaming up down by the barn, where Rosamund was now topless, her bare, bony, back rising up and down against Edward, who was propped up against the stable wall. A sudden urge to use the ring washed over her like a hot shower. She could punish them - perhaps go back in time and find a way to get them fired, or fatten them up like she had been, or even... make it so that they were never born... A bright flash out of the corner of her eye snapped Prudence from her daydream, and looking down she saw that the ring was pulsating a fiery red, in time with her fast-beating heart. This is what it wanted... She knew what she needed to do. Closing her eyes in a now well-rehearsed routine, Prudence thought back to the day of the accident, and after a moment felt the ground shift under her feet. A familiar horn sounded nearby, and the hunting party emerged as the old gates creaked open. Perhaps it was the sight of him fondling another woman, or the fact that Prudence was jaded by his actions in alternate timelines, but her heart no longer skipped a beat when she saw him walking towards her. In fact, she felt nothing for him at all. Prudence watched as Edward rode off with the hunting party, to his death, and closed her eyes one last time. Open opening, she rushed across to her bedroom mirror to inspect herself. No thinner, but no fatter either. Waddling out onto her large balcony she gazed across towards the stables, and squinted as she looked for Edward’s familiar face. It was instead met by two boys that she didn’t recognise, presumably his replacements. Was it finally over? Cursing Edward, the voodoo healer, her greedy ancestors, and finally the ring itself, she cast it off her finger and tossed it from the balcony. She listened intently for the satisfying ‘splash’ a few seconds later as it landed in the lake below. She let out a sigh of relief and looked down at her now free hand... except... the ring was back on her finger! Prudence panicked, and repeated the action, throwing it further this time, and watching its descent into the glassy water below, but in the blink of an eye it was back on her finger, as if it had never left. She spent the rest of the day attempting to destroy the ring, but water, fire, brute force - nothing worked. It always found a way back onto her pudgy hand, and in doing so the lingering temptation to use it again hung over Prudence’s head like a guillotine, ready to fall. Tired and frustrated, she trudged down to dinner in one of her few dresses that still fit, and was greeted by her mother and father at their impressive oak dining table. The effort of attempting to rid herself of the ring had left Prudence ravenous, and her request for third helpings of potatoes had resulted in raised eyebrows from her parents, and a sly smirk from Eugene, who dutifully ferried the heaping mounds of carbohydrates to her willing feedee. When the final course arrived conversation turned to the elephant in the room. Eyeing the mound of profiteroles that Prudence had served herself, her mother snapped, “I hardly think you need any more food dear. It hasn’t escaped my notice that the seamstresses have had to let out your clothes again. I’m told they’re running out of fabric”. She leant across the table and gave her daughter’s ham-like arm a jiggle, the upper arm fat slapping gently against the excess flesh pouring over her bra from her side-boob. She sighed heavily. “At this rate, we’ll have to move your bedroom to the ground floor. I can’t listen to your wheezing as you walk up the stairs, it just breaks my heart...”. Prudence zoned out of the conversation after this, focusing instead on the plate of profiteroles in front of her, which seemed to miraculously refill itself whenever she turned away. She gorged herself greedily, cream smeared across her cheeks, focused entirely on the food that was slowly filling the pit in her stomach. It was her father’s booming voice that eventually brought her back to reality, “... now if I were younger I’d make the trip of course. The possibility to make a new name for yourself - a land of opportunity - who would pass up such an offer? It sets sail in thirty days, that... well, that might be enough time to get our affairs in order...”, he said hopefully, glancing nervously at his wife. She smiled back at him kindly, “it’s 1620 dear, and you’re not the young man you were when we first met - we should make the best of the life we’ve already built for ourselves, with what little time we have left. Leave the adventuring to the young”. She patted him gently on the hand, making it clear that the matter was not up for further discussion. Prudence was pensive. ‘Who would pass up such an offer?...’, perhaps her father was right - who indeed would turn their nose up at the opportunity to start again in a new land? Who... or what? The ring had already had its fun with her, and she sensed that its power was drawn from the impact it had on its bearer’s lives. Perhaps if she gave it an opportunity beyond the walls of Plymouth City...? Excusing herself from the table, she hurried back to her bedroom as fast as her tree-trunk legs would carry her and began her preparations for the night before the maiden voyage... - - - - Prudence waddled around a bend in the tunnel and saw the faint glimmer of moonlight far ahead through a sewer grate. She’d made it! As she reached the light at the end of the tunnel her destination came mercifully into view. ‘The Mayflower’ was an exquisite piece of nautical engineering. Over 100 feet long, with high sails and a tonnage that could support even her own corpulence, it alone looked capable of braving a trip to the New World. Under the cover of darkness, she slipped out of the tunnel and between cargo containers on the harbour beyond, stepping as gently as her enormous body would allow, and stifling her breathing as best she could. A guard strolled past, just metres away from her, and she rested her back against a barrel of wine and wheezed quietly, attempting to catch her breath after her intense physical exertion. She was so close - just a little further and it would all be over. After the footsteps of the guard had faded into the distance, and the only sounds to be heard were the splashing of waves against the harbour walls and the creaking of the wooden masts in the breeze, Prudence picked herself up and continued to weave through the cargo, until she reached her destination, the luggage rack. She pulled a parchment and quill from her pocket, scrawling a hurried note that she placed clumsily into a small leather ring-box she had borrowed from her mother’s overflowing dressing table. Tears streaming gently from her eyes, she took a final, longing, look at the ornate ring on her index finger. Tearing her gaze away, she ripped the ring from her person and threw it into the box, which she then stuffed unceremoniously into the nearest trunk. As the trunk snapped shut, she caught the name scrawled on its side - ‘T. Fairfax ‘. Thinking a silent prayer for the stranger whose life she may have just irrecoverably altered, she glanced nervously at her hand. It was as puffy as ever, but bare, with just the faintest band of white pale skin where the ring had sat for so long. She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, and began the long trip back up to her family estate, feeling that the weight of the last few years might have finally been lifted from her shoulders. Figuratively, if not literally. - - - - The next morning Prudence Pole was to be found standing on her bedroom balcony, looking out across Plymouth Harbour. The cacophony below built to a crescendo, as The Mayflower cast off its moorings and set sail across the sea to claim new lands in the name of the British Empire. She followed the ship until its silhouette disappeared beyond the horizon, after which she finally allowed herself a heavy sigh of relief, plucking a freshly baked pastry from a nearby tray and taking a large bite. Crumbs tumbled down her nightgown and came to rest on the top of her great, wobbly belly, which she caressed gently. Prudence was feeling particularly peckish today. The ring, meanwhile, pulsated gently in approval, as it began its long voyage across the ocean, to new beginnings...

Ruler of an empire. Unrestricted magical power. Held to the highest regard imaginable by countless loyal subjects. Full legions of powerful warriors, both male and female, at your disposal. Unimaginable wealth. These were the rights provided to she whom the throne deemed worthy of ruling the new empire, a right only the greatest female warriors were able to earn. It had been a tradition for over a millenia, spawning out of a blessing in the disguise of a curse, that had led the empire to such perfect rulers. A bitter witch, once the lover of a king until his interests went to a prettier and younger woman who became his queen instead of the witch, sought a way to ruin him and his perfect wife. Sneaking into the throne room during court one evening, she stood in front of the king, shouting curses until she was able to channel her energy and the stolen energy of all those wizards and witches around her, a forbidden magic, to blast the king and curse his queen by ruining her beautiful figure and making her unrecognizable as the former queen. What the witch had not accounted for, aside from draining herself dry of life energy in her rage filled blast, was that she had ultimately blasted the queen’s throne instead of directly hitting the queen. Made of ancient stone and powerful gems, the witch’s magic had been mostly absorbed and was rapidly morphing the powers shot into it. The now corpulent queen, standing in front of what remained of the mostly drained and slain court, drowned in complete shock and sorrow, mistakenly extended her plush body onto the throne to help calm herself, not recognizing the unsettled magic that erupted as she sat down. The immediate aftermath of that moment remains unclear, but it is said that the queen was absorbed into the throne and all of the gems and crystals shattered into a million pieces, only to be reformed as the throne warped itself expanding outward and gathering all of the shattered material into one magical stone: the empress stone. It was a gem of incredible beauty and with an eerie glow that hinted at its magical capabilities, resting at the top of the now larger and wider throne in a simple adornment. It is unclear how the power of the throne came to be known, but over the millennia, the rules of the throne became quickly apparent, and with it, the power to rule and lead an empire. The throne sought out only the greatest female warriors, the most level headed and courageous, granting them unimaginable power and the right to lead an empire...at the cost of their fit figures. The only natural explanation for this toll was that the throne, in its absorption of the queen, had determined that was the ideal figure of a ruler, but that the other traits were necessary to identify who should be the next leader. It was, in a way, the ultimately selection process with no messy democracy watering down results and no blood lineage leading to incest or jealousy over rulers. It was an emotionless, yet effective process of selecting the next ruler, transpiring at the passing of each empress. Regardless of the how, the impact of that initially disastrous impact on the kingdom had spawned generations of level headed, powerful empresses who quickly and successfully expanded the kingdom’s domain, as well as its prosperity, and led the people to a state none could have dreamed of. The rights and powers of the empress were without question, but the continued success of previous empresses had lead to a problem that none would have predicted, too much success. The empire had grown so vast, so wealthy, and effective at continuing to do so, that ruling it all was quickly becoming difficult for one powerful being to do, even with support. That would be the new pressure for the next empress to solve. Arolyn, of course, was not concerned with any of the history of the throne, but rather, whether or not she would become the new ruler of this vast and expanding empire. Assembled in the throne room were the ten most successful female warriors, generals and leaders of the vast empire, each one, a potential candidate for the throne. A quick glance up and down the line and it would be all too clear that these were not women whose blade you wanted to be on the wrong side of. Varying degrees of lean athletic builds with impressive amounts of muscle tone, over 60 clearly defined abdominal bumps on full display, none of the woman lacking in fitness, not to mention their impressive glutes from hours of combat training. Every one of these women was clearly an impressive warrior, but almost coincidentally were equally stunningly beautiful. Cascades of blonde, brown, black, and red hair could be seen across the line, framing sharp faces crafted from the countless calories they had burned in exercise and wonderful symmetry, enhancing their beauty. Not a single one had a significant scratch that would tamper with their stunning beauty. In another realm, their faces would lead to slender, softer, more seductive figures, but these women were warriors first and beautiful second. In truth, there was only one area where most of these warrior women fell short, aside from hardly any of them exceeding a height of 1.66 meters (5’6). Not that it mattered to the throne, but most of these stunning young women were lacking in one area from a sexual lens: their chest. All of their hard work and constant combat had whittled away anything resembling a hearty breast and it was here that only Arolyn and the shortest of her new rivals seemed to exceed the others, their natural perkiness pushing the loose fitting robe they wore outward. Standing at nearly 1.78 meters (5’10), Arolyn’s amber brown hair cascaded down right to her plunging neckline of her hearty grapefruit sized chest. With nearly each and every muscle of her body visible or rippling just beneath the surface, she was practically the image of perfection physically. The throne, however, considered many different traits for its next ruler, and there was just as likely a chance of her being selected as anyone else. The ceremony was nothing formal, with the current candidates each standing in a line after stripping down naked, their perfectly fit bodies on full display for the full chamber of exclusively women to see. Long ago it had been deemed that since a man had been at fault for this situation, men should never be privileged to see the empress selection, nor her elite servants, for that was the cost of losing the throne. Each woman would sit on the throne twice, the first time for the throne to evaluate each and every woman vying for the title of empress, and the second to magically receive either the crystal crown or a crystal necklace, signifying your undying loyalty to the new empress and your sworn duty to protect her. It also prevented them from ever scheming against the empress, as there was no way to remove the magical necklace and the throne continually monitored the intentions of each wearer. A brilliant addition that the throne, in its processing of the old enchantment, had added to ensure it effectively selected the ruler without immediate competition from those most likely to deem themselves worthy. At long last, the stone atop the throne burst to life and a faint blue aura seemed to settle upon the stone, sending a way of nerves through each of the ten women as their moment of reckoning had arrived. While emotionless on the surface, a skill they had all learned in that moment before a battle, subtle hints displayed their unease at potentially losing the crown. While the power and magic that came with it was a dream so close to these women, the stirpping of all of their earned might to serve a plump empress while their former colleagues fought and conquered was generally viewed as enslavement, a complete loss of power, despite the externally perceived honor of making up a portion of the guard. All of these thoughts and more raced through each woman as they proceeded in a line, sitting their toned derrieres down on the large stone throne, quadricep muscle flexing beneath the surface as they all gracefully settled down momentarily, as if beckoned by the throned. Without any visible queue from the throne, each one would then rise and then return back to where they previously stood. The tension in the air practically electric, each woman unsure as to whether or not there would be any clues from the throne as to who would be selected. After all ten women had been through the procession and submitted their candidacy to the throne, the second step in the process began. The throne, having instantly made its decision, simply did this to allow the humans time to process its decision. In truth, the second sitting down process was not even necessary, for the throne and the witch’s magic could have placed the necessary materials upon each woman before instilling the magic and fat into the new empress, but that wasn’t fun and the throne only had one occasion to play every couple of decades. Each woman, previously radiating, looked as if they had come under a sickness, their once warm flushes seemingly drained from their skin as the moment that would determine the rest of their lives was close at hand. Arolyn felt as if she were practically going to vomit, the nerves so unsettling and the adrenaline pumping so greatly. Her entire future was about to be decided. All eyes were glued to the tight derriere of the first, and shortest, of the warriors as she effortlessly glided up and sat down in the throne, potentially her last seconds as the thin, svelte, sexy fit woman before them. For a moment, nothing happened, but then a faint blue glow appeared around her neck and suddenly a beautiful stone, coupled with blue ribbon that was magically enhanced, settled around her neck. In the aftermath of the necklace, you would have thought the woman believed she was going to die, then her former training and leadership skills kicked in. With a dignified air, she raised her head and walked back in line, forced to stand and watch the future empress be chosen in front of her eyes. One down, meant only nine remained, and Arolyn was seventh in the order to approach the throne. A new sense of energy seemed to bustle throughout the room, each woman wrecked by nerves, but a glimmer of hope was blossoming within them. At least until the next woman sat down. Slowly, but surely, the next five, much to Arolyn’s own surprise, fell prey to servitude instead of ultimate power of becoming the empress. Some of the most impressive women she had ever heard of, some she even considered to be her own superiors in the realm of battle and strategy. But the throne had never been wrong in its history, so she had to place her own blind faith in the throne. Finally, her moment had arrived, her body going partially numb as the adrenaline pumped through her, swirling inside her body with her nerves. Taking that first step, her muscular legs rippled gently to highlight the iron coils of her quadriceps, the rest of her body practically motionless as all her muscles worked to control her movement. It was a challenge not to reveal her nerves in her walk, for she knew the throne would only take the bravest, most courageous, and powerful, but her body shook ever to subtly. Approaching the throne, she turned around, her pert butt hardly jiggling with all of the muscle, but still quite hearty and shapely. Straining her quadriceps one final time, Arolyn lowered her glute and naked frame onto the wide cold throne, letting destiny choose her fate. From a neutral perspective, she certainly looked the most regal to adorn the throne. Her lengthy torso displaying her immaculate abdominals on display with just the slight shadow of her perky breasts protruding outwards in defiance of gravity. The subtle flaring of her hips, accented by the cloak of long her mane, helped to frame her powerful physique as her arms flexed their sinewy muscles towards the arm rests. She was the spitting image of a goddess, powerful yet beautiful. In a flash, that image was gone forever. Arolyn couldn’t help but grin in pure pleasure as a sudden warmth encapsulated her perfect body, her every nerve seeming to come alive. The throne had made its decision, and she was the fortunate recipient of this incredible blessing. Even as her lips spread into a smile, her flesh seemed to come alive as the witches spell began expanding her figure. That once chiseled jawline quickly vanished underneath two additional chins as the fat quickly encased and rounded her beautiful face. The beauty that had previously resided was still there and the sharp intellect of her hazel brown eyes left little doubt as to her intelligence, but there was new softness to her. Accompanying her facial growth, the rest of her body rapidly expanded as well. Her once impressive and gravity defying grapefruits quickly strained the muscles of her back which were rapidly being buried underneath thick layers of fat. Quickly expanding, her once healthy chest continued to inflate and swell, gravity greedily pulling down her practically watermelon sized breasts before her growth seemed to stop. Gravity, however, would not have the honor of ultimately aiding in the holding of her mammoth melons, for her highly defined abdominal muscles suddenly fell victim to an avalanche of fat as her monstrous belly inflated outwards, encompassing her thickening thighs and expanding hips. Roll after roll seemed to form, her entire body thickening in a magical movement as her face grew rounder. As suddenly as her expansion had commenced, suddenly her body stopped moving except for violent jiggling of her newly developed fat. Arolyn could only look down in a mixture of horror and pleasure at her corpulent figure hidden by her expansive canyon of cleavage and the sudden power she felt residing within her body. Sitting there naked on a throne she now just barely fit into, breasts sagging to each side of her gargantuan belly with several smooth rolls cresting on top of each other, her thick legs barely visible as they extender beyond her giant belly, it was impossible to believe moments earlier she would have represented the epitome of fitness. Standing in front of her, the nine candidates, all now wearing magical necklaces to prevent any uprising, knelt before the new empress. While many tried to mask their emotions, several continued to look up at the simply gargantuan woman who sat in front of them. Arolyn, without a doubt, was the largest and heaviest of the empresses any of them had ever seen, based on their artwork of former rules. As a flood of knowledge seemed to suddenly settle into her mind, the knowledge of powerful magic, strategies, leadership, and secrets of the throne, it struck Arolyn as odd that there she sat, the most powerful woman in an empire that was expanding faster than she just had, and no effective means to control its various divisions and regions. The answer, she quickly determined, was kneeling right in front of her. Nine of the most talented, fiercely intelligent woman in the entirety of the empire, with their chiseled abdominals, toned and rippling muscles, strong glutes and intimidating beauty. Arolyn was grateful for the thrones foresight to have some control over her most direct rivals, for each of these women was fiercely intimidating and bright. What the throne has failed to calculate, however, she realized, was the value of using these women as more than slaves or physical servants to the throne. They, much like the many women who had come before them, were nearly as worthy as she had been to wield such power, and it seemed such a waste of talent for the empire. Finally, the spell suddenly fell into place in her mind and Arolyn made her decision. Channeling her sudden well of energy, Arolyn reached out through the space towards each of the women, warmth flooding her body and filling the space around her as she suddenly felt the hard curvature of each women. Their natural life energy was incredible to feel, to taste, to soak up, but Arolyn needed them for a different purpose. Having secured each of their bodies, she shot an incredible wave of magic through to each woman, channeling additional energy from the thrones seemingly bottomless well of power to reinforce her own natural energy. Before her eyes, nine of the fittest women on the planet sprouted heavier breasts, burgeoning bellies, rounder faces, thick thighs, widening hips and hearty derrieres. Each woman developed differently, but not a single one would be recognized for their former selves now that their bellies sagged along with their newly developed chests, and jiggling fat erupted all over their bodies at the slightest movement. The transformation had been incredible to watch as it transpired so effortlessly and instantaneously, but the feeling of magical power in the room was more impressive. While none possessed anything resembling the knowledge or power that the empress now had, she had instilled an incredible gift in each of these strong women that would help them rule their respectively assigned portions of the empire justly and fairly. Each would be able to help Arolyn rule and ensure that their empire continued to expand with proper guidance moving forward. “Go forth my new leaders of the empire, help us continue to prosper onward!” Arolyn said with a smile, slightly out of breathe at her own remark. In the back of her mind, it concerned her deeply how suddenly out of shape she felt, but then the energy of the throne pulsed through her, serving as a reminder that she was potentially the most powerful being in existence. With great pleasure, she watched the room full of formerly spartan-esque woman waddle out of the room to the certain shock of the serving staff, their jiggling and wobbling thoroughly amusing to her as she satisfied her last bit of vanity before becoming a proper ruler. None of those woman would ever lift another sword, and more importantly, never make their impress look even fatter with their thin, lithe bodies. “Guard, please bring in the snack bowl, your empress is hungry.” --- Not my finest piece of writing or probably my easiest to read, but this was just a fun little idea I had been bouncing around. Hope you all enjoy!

Hey, so... I made a thing. Feel free to put your “yays” and “nays” in the comments section: *sigh*, “Morning already...?” Drip. “Gah! Cold! Damn it, another leak.” I grit my teeth and shiver, realizing just how cool and moist my body was. I don’t feel like looking for where the water was coming from. I'll just have to find a new napping spot... again. Letting out a yawn and shaking myself off as best I can, I sliver over to the other side of the cave. It’s time to check my “feed”. Shutting my eyes in concentration, my prison is lit up with a whitish-purple light as my monitors appear before me. Giving my eyes a minute to adjust, I start cycling through my usual “channels” to check on my next batch of targets, and to see if I can find some new marks. “Let’s see, no, no, boring, no, too much, not enough, definitely not, niet, n- wait, stop!” I pause for a minute when one of my monitors focused in on the city hall. A little spike of negative energy appeared right... augh, him again. Mr. Muller, the custodian. Sorry loser, but you had your chance, and your gimmick was disgusting. Next. In the end I settled on a purse snatcher and an addict who happened to be passing through town. Zooming in, I reached out and pushed against the screen, letting my power soak through to the other side. This part was always tiring, and I could only do one at a time in my current state, so I had to focus on following the other one around while I work. In the “real world” my powers slips through with a faint flash of purple light, barely visible to the naked eye, and sticks itself to the biggest source of bad vibes in the area. At the time, my new minion is trying to focus on escaping and avoiding letting people see his face, but his stopped by the sensation of me rooting around inside of him. I had to find a good place to attach the curse or it wouldn’t set right. There, no go back to running, my pet. Now for the other one... The former mutated into some kind of quilled, monkey thing with enhanced agility (how original) and the latter turned into some kind of weird... tentacle zombie. His already considerably pale skin turned a gray-green color and weird worm things started to grow out of him. As expected, with in the hour, the little priestess appeared to deal with them before they managed to cause much damage. The little brat has just been getting stronger and stronger lately, breaking out new weapons and abilities left and right, just like the last five I’ve had to deal with. It’s getting to the point where she’s causing more damage to the city she allegedly protects than me. Even on a lucky day like this, where I get two solid minions at once, it’s still not enough to phase her anymore. A few months ago, this might have at least been an entertaining battle, but now I actually feel kind of bad for the little guys. After the fight was over, I decided to zoom in and follow her for a minute. Not like I had anything better to do. She was a young girl, as most of the priestesses tended to be, and “cute”, at least by human standards. In her magically enhanced form, her long, wavy, hair glowed a bright orange color, which actually went well with her natural blond. Her “uniform”, if you could call it that, was frilly mess of red and white with a short, round skirt that plumed out from her legs, creating that ever important absolute territory where her skirt ends and her knee socks and boots begin. She did have some light protection, namely a set padded, fingerless gloves equipped with an archer's ring and a bit of plating for her shoulders, chest, and back. Not that she really needed it, since the little squirt was harder to kill than a cockroach, especially since she figured out how to make those annoying barriers, and it’s not like she got into a lot of melees anyway, since all priestesses specialize in archery. To “conceal her identity”, most of her face is obscured by a red mask, which obscures her mouth and nose, as well as a set of glasses which cover her eyes. Of course, now that she was finished with my creations, and was out of sight, this outfit promptly disappeared, quickly being replaced with a blue tube top and set of black skinny jeans. As soon as she was finished changing, running a hand through her hair, she ran out into the street to meet up with her friends, Tessa and Samantha, to continue their trip to the shopping center. Apparently our little heroine (her name's Sharen, by the way) broke her cellphone during one her heroic escapades a while back and final had enough currency to afford a replacement. I zoom in a bit closer to listen to their conversation. “So, how did it go?” Sam inquired. “Piece of cake.” The priestess replied confidently. “Really? But weren’t there like two of them this time? How’d you get them both so fast?” “Neither them were very good at dodging, I guess. Plus, their abilities were pretty lame. Kind of like the people they used to be.” Hey, it’s not like I get to pick, you brat! “So, who were they? Are they going to be okay?” “Just some thug and a homeless guy. They'll be fine... probably.” Not that she could tell, but Sam didn’t find that very reassuring. And of course, the priestess quickly put it aside and changed the subject, striking up a conversation with Tessa about her new phone. Sam tries her best to forget it too, nodding along like everything is fine. Just talk to her, your doormat. Keep wallowing in your own despair like that and I might need to pay you a visit, too. Whatever, it’s time for another mark. I rip my attention away from little miss perfect and her two lackeys to try and find another potential source of chaos for my magic to feed off of, but as usual, I didn’t find anything in this boring town. Whether they’ve figured out how my powers work on a subconscious level, or if having a super-heroine for a town mascot counter balances the shear terror of mutating into a horrific monster and going on a rampage, it’s pretty rare I find someone depressed, anxious, or riled up enough for me to curse them, at least to my standards. I mean, it’s one thing to have bad day and feel sad about it, but it’s another entirely to want to hurt people over it, and I’ve long since exhausted this city of violent, disposable thugs and entitled ass hats. So, I either have to sit around and hope I get lucky, or... no, not again. Not after what happened last time. I just need to be a bit more creative. Technically, I can plant curses on normal people, but until they feel some kind of hostile intent towards someone else, and fuel them with enough negative emotion, they can’t really do much. It's really one of those long term investments. I already have a few planted through out the town, although so far those investments have yet to pay off. *sigh*, well, there’s always tomorrow I guess. It’s not like I’m in a rush to get out of here at this point. Hm? One of my monitor's flash faintly as I pass over a coffee shop. It’s nothing substantial, but I detected a faint spike in power from one of the customers. I zoom in lazily, my view drifting over the line of pedestrians until I find the source. It’s a woman, I’d say about late thirties, 5’ 4” and a bit on the chunky side, with a full waist and rounded shoulders. She was dressed professionally in a white button up, a gray jacket and matching pencil skirt. She had her hair tied in a neat bun with bangs parted to one side, and a pair of black framed glasses with square lens which kept sliding down the thin bridge of her nose. She looked exhausted those with bags under her eyes, and she was starving too. Apparently she’s been trying to lose weight but cutting out carbs, but it wasn’t working as well as she hoped. She also skipped breakfast this morning because she overslept and cooking breakfast would’ve taken too long. She had agreed to meet with a work friend today to help her with some paperwork at the last minute, and now in her mind she was taking out on her friend and herself. What the hell. Maybe I’ll follow this one for a bit. Who knows. Could be interesting.

This story is inspired by Batman76, Swahilimonkfish, and a true story ("based on a true story" -- like all those amazing movies). Chapter One “… so what I need to tell you is, we’re never going to date.” I stared at my crush like a deer in headlights. How are you supposed to answer that? “Never?” “Never, never, ever,” she replied as she pushed her fork through her mashed potatoes. Never once did she look at me. I should’ve known better. I really should’ve. But after a couple months of asking her out and her half-shod excuses for why she couldn’t go, I should’ve taken the hint. But I was getting desperate. I had no relationships – or friends for that matter. She slowly carried a fork-ful of mashed potatoes to her mouth with a graceful bend of her long, slender arm. Her arm was so beautiful and captivating – then again, wasn’t her whole body just as entrancing? She was just as tall as me, long and slender, clothed modestly in a soft but form-fitting green sweater and blue jeans. Bracelets and beads adorned both her wrists, and a necklace rested on her soft bosom without looking scandalous. From beneath a full head of straight, black hair, I could see her eyelashes fluttering over green pupils. She still wouldn’t look at me. “So… why?” I finally asked, ignoring my own food. “I’m not a bad person; I’d take care of you.” “But that’s just it,” she said slowly, piecing the words carefully together into sentences she’d probably rehearsed to herself all day. “You’re not supposed to love me.” “What?” “Loving anything in the world is wrong. The only person you’re supposed to love is God.” I felt a cold, invisible dagger pierce my heart. “What are you talking about? That’s crazy! God made everything around us – that’s why I love it so much.” “But it’s a sin, Jason,” my crush stared down at her food. “The world is finite and impure. Only God is eternal. That’s why you’re only supposed to love Him. You want a relationship with me because you long for me, but not God. That’s why it’ll never work.” She was nuts. Was this really my last shot at a relationship in this damn college? “That’s – that can’t be right. There’s no way you really believe that. What about your parents? Don’t they love each other? Don’t they love you?” “Yes, I get that, but they don’t love each other. They love each other… through God.” “Okay…” I tapped the edge of the table with my palms, glancing left and right at the other people in the chow hall, hoping we didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. “You know I’m one of the most religious people here, right? So I can do that too.” She shook her head softly, still staring down. “You think so, but no. You’re really smart Jason. Really smart. But even though you know God, you don’t have a relationship with Him.” “We’ve talked about this,” I tapped my foot anxiously. “I’m terrified of Him – for a lot of reasons. I’ve read Isaiah; I’ve read what He does on a whim. That doesn’t mean I don’t have a relationship with Him.” “But that’s why we’ll never go out and date. That’s why. Jason… you’re really smart. You can do anything if you set your mind to it, you know that?” “Uh huh. Yeah,” she was feeding me the same line every damned girl did at this damn college. I was so smart. But there was always some stupid reason they never wanted to get close to me. Was it because I wasn’t strong and buff? Was it my nerdy personality? Was it my social awkwardness? Who the fuck cared? It always ended the same way. “I know you’re going through a lot right now, but honestly, just give it some time and someday, somewhere, I know you will find the one God sends you to be with.” “Oh yeah,” I could feel my voice cracking. “I’ll just be sure to never love them, pray three times a day, and God will wave His magic wand and we’ll all be happily married with nine kids, right?” For the first time, she shyly looked up at me with her green eyes. She hesitantly reached a hand out to hold mine, but I shook my head, pushed my plate away, and stood up. “I’m sorry,” I said as I dodged her look. “I’m not hungry. I have to go.” “Do… do you want me to walk you home?” Was she fucking serious? “No, no… you’re fine Brandy. You’re alright…” I turned away from her and walked myself home. Hopefully, not too many people noticed the tears starting to slosh against my eyes. At “home” in my barren prison-cell of a dorm room, I turned my PC on and tried to play some Call of Duty to get my latest heartbreak off my mind. With barely any social life, gaming filled the woman-shaped hole in my heart better than anything. But not this time. Everything good in the world was grey. Turning off the game, I sighed and pulled out my Economics homework and turned-on my study playlist. By some damned twist of fate, “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” started playing. When a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes. Fuck. What was I studying for? Why was I here? What was I thinking when I enrolled here at Biltmore College? Laughing through a fit of tears, I held my head and leaned against my desk. A women’s college opened-up to men as of two years ago. I thought I was so lucky when I was the only man who happened to do so. One man, twelve-hundred women, and somehow none were remotely interested in me. Oh, sure, I got lucky every once in a while – a nice conversation, good vibes, potential for something more – and then there was always a reason why it never worked. “I like you as a friend,” “I have a boyfriend back home,” “I like girls,” or “you’ll never understand; you’re a heterosexual white male.” I’d heard it all by now – and every time they’d comfort me with “Jason, you are so smart, but…” So here I was, trapped on an island campus, surrounded by beautiful women – all young, fit, and absolutely gorgeous – and not a single one was interested in me. What the hell was wrong with me? I eyed the bottle of dry gin between my desk and my bed. A few sips turned into swigs. Before I realized it, my half-filled bottle was already empty. Music blaring from my laptop was masking my soul-wrenching cries. Jesus screamed with me to the tune of “Gethsemane” from Jesus Christ Superstar. “I want to know, I want to know my God, I want to know, I want to know my God, want to see, I want to see my Lord, want to see, I want to see my Lord, if I die what will be my reward, if I die what will be my reward…” Why, of all songs, was this playing? It didn’t matter. I was crying so hard at the ceiling that I was laughing. I had no one. No sex, no love, no real friends… had I been lied to my whole life? Wait for marriage and all that… no porn, no masturbating, be patient… Fuck it! If this was what patience gave me, what was the point? I needed to take what I could get! Now! Stumbling to my feet, I dropped the bottle and staggered my way to my laptop. What was a good porn site? I had no idea… could I google it? No… Youtube. I could look up some stripteases. Or something. There had to be something… Nothing. Just some vids with still images. “Click below to see more.” Youtube really had purged itself of anything questionable, hadn’t it? That’s what everyone was saying… but fuck it. After several dead ends, I gave in and clicked a link, willing to accept whatever malware or viruses were attached. At this point, what did it matter? Livestreaming? Girls were livestreaming on here? Body parts bombarded me from all corners of the screen as I nervously clicked on one of the sexier-looking icons. This was far beyond anything I had imagined growing-up. The screen was black for a brief moment. My music stopped playing as the feed kicked-in. There she was. A real woman on the other end with a real body. She was a curly brunette, wearing laced, black lingerie, black lipstick, black eyeliner, and nothing much else. She leaned back with a sigh, reaching up to squeeze her C-cups with her hands, her black fingernails spread wide. Drunk courage should be kicking-in right about now, right? I decided to try faking it. “Uh…” I sniffed as manly as possible. “Nice.” “Do I have your attention?” she asked, sensually rubbing her sides as she squirmed in her seat. “Sure do…” I pursed my lips and reached down for my belt with a shaking hand. “Good… keep doing what you’re doing. Take hold of that cock and don’t let go. Understand? Stroke it slow… as slow as my hands. Keep watching them. Don’t look anywhere else.” “Y-yeah,” I shook with adrenaline. What the hell was I supposed to do in a livestream? How did masturbation work? “Keep going,” she leaned in with her smoky eyes, cleavage hanging below her as she reached behind her to undo her bra strap. “And don’t stop, no matter what. They’re watching.” “Wait, who’s watching –” “Don’t stop. They have eyes everywhere, but not ears…” she peeled off her bra and held it in front of the camera before chucking it. I gawked at her nipples. They practically stared back at me the way they pertly jutted forwards… “So someone’s recording –” “Shh. Listen carefully; I don’t have much time,” she fingered her nipples, tongue lolling as her fingers made slow, sensual circles. “Jason, none of this is real. It’s all an illusion.” Weird flex, but okay. I guess I could roll with it. “Oh yeah, tell me about the illusion babe…” “Think about it Jason. An all-girl college? On an island? And every single one of them is fit and thin?” “Mm. Yeah… the matrix. I’m going to learn kung fu…” “Pay attention to me…” she raised her arms and wiggled her body like a snake so her breasts wobbled in front of me. “You are cursed Jason. Trapped. I’m calling you from the outside. I’m going to help you escape, but you have to do everything I say.” “Anything, babe. Anything…” “Go to the log on the beach you like sitting on. When you reach it, you will see a striped rock. Dig under it and you will find what you need. I’ll be waiting…” And she was gone. The screen demanded that I create a profile and set up a monthly pay plan to continue. I stared down at myself. I never managed to fumble my fingers through my jeans. That probably wasn’t how masturbation was done. Whatever. I leaned back against my chair and stared at the ceiling, arms hanging limp towards the floor. Wait… how did she know my name? Or the log?

Chapter 11 "My friend's running late...umm, she's still in the duty free," Olivia explained to the airport staff. "Am I okay to board?" With unwarranted instinct, the airport staff member gave her elevator eyes. "Uhh. Yeah," the skinny guy garbled. "No sweat, enjoy your flight." "I mean - am I okay to board with her ticket? Hers and mine?" He gave her a perplexed look. "She's a total drama queen," said Olivia. "She's always late. She's the one who'll come running up with four bags in each arm, like ten seconds before boarding closes - I thought it'd be help if I could speed up the process...you know?" "You're sure she's okay with this?" "A hundred percent," said Olivia. "She'll thank me. And you...err...thank you..." She bustled by his desk, one passport, two tickets in hand. Feeling his eyes on her ass, Olivia dropped her wheel bag and let it roll behind her. She spied her reflection in the clear glass of the corridor stretching to the airplane bays. Her ensemble consisted of a stretchy white t-shirt and an old, fleecy purple zipper jacket. Her ripped black jeans were new - the widest she could find. A scraggly, homemade scarf shrouded her newly jostling cleavage, while a branded pink raincoat, slung over the shoulder, tactically covered the roll of uncovered flesh peeking from her beltline behind her. A dark pair of shades completed the look, complimented by a thick set of headphones in matching colours. If she was going to survive the next twenty-four hours, Olivia needed to block out the world. Don't get flustered, and don't get upset she told herself. Everything will be fine, so long as you don't cause a scene. Olivia neared the final turn. Her legs were beginning to burn again. She hadn't walked so far in so long. The comfort break she'd taken in the lounge had been worth it, but it had left her with little time. She pushed on through the tunnel, stretching her waddling strides. An air hostess was waiting to greet her, her eyes lingering wide. Her own eyes widened in turn. The woman looked as if she'd been cut from a magazine. She waved a greeting, her nails trimmed and painted, gave a frozen smile and a staccated hello. Olivia lumbered to a stop, and showed her the tickets. "12C, on the left. Middle, by the emergency exit doors. 13C, directly behind." "Behind?" said Olivia, surprised. "I thought they were together?" "No Ma'am. You have two seats on separate rows, if you look at our diagram..." Olivia tuned out. She felt the sweat. She felt cold. How could she have made such a stupid mistake? She wound back her mind to the night she'd made the booking and tried to get a clear picture - naked, slovenly, cloven from her designer makeup, covered in crumbs from comfort food, drunk on a rising stack of cans of beer to steel her for the moment her parents saw her in her shocking, eye-bulging, pitiful new state... "...as you can see coloured in green -" "Uhh. It's my friend's seat. We need to sit next to each other!" Olivia stammered. The hostess paused. Olivia earned her second puzzled look. "She has...she has needs. You might be wondering where she is...she's - with the staff in the departure lounge. They're helping. Are you able - could you swap some people around? I'll - hey, I'll give her a call..." Olivia mumbled and coughed. She produced her phone, and instinctively turned the volume as low as it would go. "Ohh....Madison, hi, how are you?" she called. Olivia cast her glances left and right, hiding the black screen under her hair. She noted everyone had found their seats. She was last to board, and the plane was nearly full. "Oh...I see. Yeah, yeah, I understand. So you're..." Suddenly she felt her fingers tingle. The screen lit up. A chopped recording of Taylor Swift filled the monotone air. Olivia exchanged the hostess' befuddled complexion. She was first to break away, turning to the passengers. She made the ill-awaited announcement. The student thumbed the call button, quickly. "Olivia." "I mean - sorry...hi Maeve, how are you?" The big girl scrunched her brow. "Maeve? Seriously? What is it - " She lowered her voice to a whisper "- why are you calling me?" "Listen - I know what's happening," said Maeve. "You don't have a disease." Olivia glanced around the plane. The hostess had her arms raised, conducting her fellow ushers like an orchestra. The grumble of the passengers made for uncomfortable music. A horde soon clogged the aisle as families struggled to reset their carry-on luggage. Olivia looked over the other shoulder. She double checked. No-one was listening to her. "No, you listen. There's something seriously, genetically wrong with me. If you're going to preach that I'm fat because I've been overeating, thanks for stating the obvious. But it doesn't matter what I do. I've tried diets, I've tried the gym, I've tried to dance again, I've tried starving myself, I've prayed - nothing is working!" "Olivia - I know why..." "You study English. Since when were you a doctor?" "No...I'm not but - please trust me. I...figured out what it is. Whenever you get mad, you gain weight." "I'm pretty sure I'm mad because I've been gaining weight." "That's - there, you're halfway to understanding. It's a self-propelling cycle." "Are you trying to sell me your book or something?" muttered Olivia. "What's your point?" "It isn't natural and it isn't something this holistic wellness ranch place is going to fix..." "It's a hospital," Olivia insisted. "Unlike you, they're professionals." "It's a curse," Maeve blurted out. Olivia lifted her phone from her ear and stared. She tittered in disbelief. "A curse? Really?" "Yeah, we'll call it that." said Maeve. Olivia laughed. "Okay, two points. One, there isn't a 'we'. Two, curses aren't real. There's always an logical explanation!" "Please, listen to mine - okay, maybe curse isn't quite the right word, but I can tell you what is is if you - " "Freak." Olivia cut her off. She pocketed the phone in a huff. She was done. The last overheard locker clattered shut. She surveyed the scene around her. The hostess was encouraging the last few holdouts to sit. She gave her a tap on the shoulder. The lady flinched as if she were shocked. Olivia mimicked the reaction. "Oh...err. Sorry!" The lady raised her eyebrows, regained her smile and straightened her crispy jacket. Olivia's mind raced to her shirt. A flick of the wrist and she corrected where it had ridden up suddenly over her stomach, cotton gripping her bothersome fresh flesh. "Yes ma'am?" "My friend - I just called her, she's not coming with me," she declared. The hostess batted her eyes. A simultaneous groan echoed from the rows around her. "Just you then," she exclaimed. "That's no problem. Your seats are free. Please be seated." She took two deft paces backward and showed Olivia to her row. Olivia followed on, wincing as she felt the bite of the button under her jelly roll. She considered the warmth of the air, her slight sweat and the cabin pressure, struggling to turn her head facts she couldn't add up. The dull pain blinkered her thoughts. She jabbed a thumb through her waistband, easing the ache as her jeans pinched her with every step. A woman in her eighties slept gently by the window, a doily-like cover on her eyes. Olivia thanked the hostess, clacked open the locker, and in a quick movement clandestinely produced the seatbelt extender from the top pocket of her bag as she pretended to wrestle the zipper shut. Palming the strap as she closed the locker, Olivia brought down her arms and shuffled into her spot. She gave a grunt of discomfort. It was tighter than she'd predicted. Twisting round, the student lowered both armrests as much as she could. She quietly clamped the extender to the male end of the regular harness, and brought it across her round, turgid tummy. Her t-shirt was riding up; she corrected it. Olivia scooted her butt further but found she had reached her limit. Her stomach pressed on her cramped thighs and her boobs were up to her chin. Olivia sighed. This would just have to do. She clicked the extended seatbelt shut. She peered over her sunglasses. The hostess was still standing over her. "Ma'am, I'm afraid we can't get ready to fly just yet." she said, between demeanour of cheer and despotism. "Our procedures require our cabin crew to have access to the aisle at all times." The hostess clasped her hands. Olivia felt stung. She took the hint with a puff of baited warm breath and a lowly whispered curse. She had just sat down, and she felt drained. The student took stock of herself - a hefty love handle, her ass, the side of her thick, wobbling thigh; all had bust the unwritten limits of her right armrest, and were bulging off the precipice of her seat. Rolling her eyes, she lifted the armrest on her left and tenuously adjusted her position. Her tummy grumbled. Olivia winced. She rested her bottom between the seats, and leant back on the plastic divides. She nudged and budged her body, trying to make herself comfortable. "Our apologies, our regulations state that won't be a viable option - we need you to be seated and to be wearing a seatbelt prior to take-off." "Ugghh, okay. Middle seat it is." Olivia made sure to lock eyes with her powder-puffed oppressor as she slid jauntily across the row. She seized the leftmost armrest for leverage and pushed with her legs. Her jeans lifted from the seat, tearing like Velcro and her fingers tingled with static. Suspended for the briefest moment, Olivia swung her bottom deeper into her gaudy, plastic confines. She heard a sudden squeak. Her heavy hip bounced and buffered into her window seat neighbour. Olivia threw her head around, her face paling. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" she cried, mortified. "I didn't see you!" She lurched to the right, or rather she tried to. Olivia winced as cramp wrapped round her calf, strangled by her jeans. Digging in through the pain she inched herself away a little more. She flipped her hair, fighting her body into position. "You're on my leg," the elderly lady croaked. "Shit - I mean, sorry!" Olivia chastised herself for cursing. She fumbled and shoved her weighty waist rightward, until she felt the familiar sensation of hard plastic pressing her coccyx. She was wedged in the space between seats again. Olivia looked up to the air hostess in desperation. The slender woman extended her manicured fingers. Her arm brushed the dishevelled girl's heaving chest, a palm softly placing itself on her distressed fellow passenger's shoulder. "We're so sorry!" she said, palpably emotional. "We have an upgrade we can offer you. Are you able to follow me to business class? Are you hurt?" She raised her eyebrows once, twice quickly in Olivia's direction. "Excuse us!" she hissed. Olivia whimpered. She swayed herself into motion. She half stood, half rolled her way from her seat, planting a chubby leg back in the aisle. She hauled the rest of herself out into the cooler air. The hostess zipped down into the space she occupied, a comforting arm stretching around the valued guest's shoulder. "I'm...err...I'm just gonna go to the restroom..." The student twisted away from the awkward scene and barrelled for the toilet. She opened her eyes to the rest of the flight. She swore she heard a sharp, collective intake of breath as she sighed, holding her head low. Olivia swung her legs, mumbling apology after apology as her hips brushed by. Some apologised back. A row of boys shifted to the side, a few comically far, earning a laugh from their friends. The older women tutted. The younger stared with pity. The worst was the rearward rows, and the squat, bryl-creemed businessmen in the premium economy seats. There was one who pretended not to see her, or hear her after she pleaded excuses. Groaning, she trundled by, his shoulder brushing the sides of her belly, soft fat slipping past a cheap, crinkled suit. Olivia winced. She could have sworn she felt him smirking. The door couldn't have come quickly enough. By time she pressed up against the handle her spirits were shot. She rattled the door, stepped through, twisted and closed it tight behind her. Olivia was in darkness. There was minimal space to move. She fished her phone out from her vice-like pocket. She couldn't see a light switch. She couldn't sit. She could barely turn around, but with a grunt and a thrust, she did so. She was alone. She locked the door. The former dancer began to seethe. Hot and waxy tears ran down her cheeks. She covered her mouth, determined not to let anyone hear her. She wished the plane would just take off, with her in the shadows. She wished she was invisible. She wished everyone else was every bit as uncomfortable as she was. She wished she was slim, fit, graceful again most of all. She heard voices outside, simple chatter, kids cajoling each other, broken in segments by the obnoxious blare of the businessmen on the last row. "We're running ten minutes late," His partner swore. "Au contraire," said a third man. "I'm confident we'll arrive ten minutes early, after the crew force her off..." "Throw her down the slide," someone laughed. "She'd roll to China." Olivia's temper flared. Her brow boiled to volcanic proportions. Her fists were clenched tight. Her chest grew warm, her breaths grew furious and ragged. Didn't they know who she was? Didn't they know the girl she used to be? How dare they? How could they? How could everyone see, but nobody know? Suddenly the pressure welled up in her midsection. Olivia choked. Her cheeks flushed in agony. Before she could seize her stomach the noise hit her eardrums. No longer in pain, she felt under her belly. She found one edge of her jeans, then the other, split by a gaping zipper. There was no button there. It had gone. Olivia's fingers curled at the feeling of soft flesh, sticking out in front of her, hanging in half an inch of space where there'd been nothing at all. Olivia's mouth hung open. She hadn't moved her feet. But her gut was now pushing against the door. Shell-shocked, she took out her phone. "Maeve, it's me. I believe you." she breathed, the moment she heard her pick up. She wiggled and nudged. The door rattled. Olivia peered through the millimetre slit left in the wall by the hinges. Someone was waiting for her. "I'm glad. Where are you now?" Maeve replied. Olivia bit her lip. "A runway. About to burst out of an airplane toilet...oh god, I must weigh a tonne by now. How come I didn't notice it before?" "You weren't meant to notice, the weight gain happened to you overnight because I delayed it, I mean - the curse was delayed..." "YOU DID THIS?" screamed Olivia. "I'm really sorry!" Maeve wailed. "I can fix this! I didn't want it to be like this, I swear! The curse - the...thing, I think I'm losing control over it, I just wanted you to know so you can stop..." There was silence on the line. "Ugghhhhh" Olivia moaned. "Ohhhhhhhhh!" Her bottom pressed harder on the sink. Olivia leant forward. Her belly flattened along the width of the door. She gasped. Her breasts were beginning to brush the signage. Her shirt pulled tight across her shoulders. Olivia heard a stitch split. "Please," Maeve pleaded. "Please don't get mad! Just do something to get out of there!" The student staggered. A rumble emanated from the soles of her feet. She shivered as the buzz crept through her tendons. The plane had ignited its engines. Her burst of growth had pinned her in place. Olivia's blood ran cold. "You can't go," Maeve urged. "Get off the plane!" "I - I can't get out," Olivia whimpered. "I'm about to fly!" "The thing - the thing I used to do this to you. It's called -" The line howled with hiss of static. " - from a book I read but then I lost it, I don't know where it is!" "What did you say?" said Olivia. "I can't hear you!" "Please - don't shout! Don't -" Kkkkrrrrhhh....krrrrhhhhhhh…. "Maeve, it's okay, I'm not mad - tell me what it is, tell me what to do!" Kkkkrrrrhhh…. "- livia, we're being watched. You've got to keep quiet!" "Just tell me. Hurry, I think I can - hhgggnnnhh....heerrrrnnggghh!" Olivia pounded the door and tried to unstick herself. "We need to stay together!" shouted Maeve. Olivia heard a rumble from deep down below. The tinny lights shivered and buzzed. The plane was shifting its gears. "You need to stay here!" Olivia fumbled for the latch, palms sweating. She pushed her left hand past her heaving stomach. She drew a breath. Her fingers slid on the steely bolt piece. "Tell me." whispered Olivia. "Maeve, tell me what's going on." "I used a - krrrrcchhh - device. It's c - krrrrcchhh - Penultimator!" The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog THE QUICK BROWN FOX JUMPS OVER THE LAZY DOG " - . The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog Aaaaand that wraps it up for the night! Any and all comments, critiques and criticisms worth your time will be given mine. Leave a like, I hope to see you again for the final chapter! Shift, exclamation point. I sighed as I checked the time. 1:52 am. I clicked the post button and switched tabs to a piano cover of Yesterday. My eyes were straining and I dimmed the screen. The music helped ease the ache. I switched tabs again to an article I'd skimmed past a couple hours before on rising cat ownership. I read it until the song stopped, glugged some water and closed the page, then the curtains. I was ready for bed. Down below, I heard someone open the front door. I lived alone. I stopped breathing. I turned in my chair, my mouth opening slowly. Two wet footsteps struck the tiles of the porch. I wasn't imagining the noise. A rustle of material and a thud echoed down the hallway as someone discarded a soaked raincoat on my shoe rack. Click The hallway light was on. Click I switched my bedroom light off. I dimmed my laptop to black. I scrabbled for my phone as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I stepped away from where the light was seeping through under the door, into the shadows by the wardrobe. Thud....thud...thud.... Serial killer. Do I shout out? I stuck a hand in the door. I gripped my old hockey stick. Thud....thud.. The footsteps were closing towards me. I unlocked my phone, and entered three digits. Creak... The figure had reached the stairs. It was coming for me. Creeeaaakk…. The footsteps grew slower, louder. I had nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run - but back down the stairs, audibly groaning as someone ascended. "Hello?" "Ughhh...hey! I finally found you...." The voice was a stranger's. But it was young. Feminine. Loud and accented. "Are you looking for me?" I said, balking. "Geez, didn't you see me waving at your window?" she gasped, then huffed. "Of course you didn't. You were on your computer." She paused for breath. My mind hung on the inflections. Far as I could tell, she wasn't from England. "Phew....so I tried the front door, your doorbell doesn't work, but you left it open - so..." She flicked on the stairway light. "Sorry - do I know you?" I asked her. "Yeah...kinda...phew - look, we'll get to that later. Second door on the left's your room, right?" "Err, yeah. Wait, I'll get the door." Heart still pumping, I returned the hockey stick to the wardrobe. I found some slippers and threw on a hoodie. The pyjama bottoms would have to do. I tossed an empty can of Coke in the bin. I pocketed my phone, switched the light back on, and opened the door. There was a girl in ripped jeans, a thin purple zipper jacket and a white t-shirt, leaning with her hands on the balustrade, a loose scarf dangling over the edge. She pushed back her soaking blonde hair over her shoulder and looked me dead in the eyes. I tried my best not to peel mine away. I couldn't overstate the obvious. She was fat. She was immense. Her every move exaggerated her mass. As she approached my doorway her rolling stomach hung out from under her shirt, drooping over the crumpled zipper of her straining, buttonless jeans, puffing out her shirt into a taut band around and between her belly roll, supported by faint, silvery vertical lines. I couldn't afford to peer down any more as she drew closer. My mind built a picture of her stretchmarks as speech marks, flanking her round belly button. A similar noise escaped from my mouth. She stopped, inches away from me. Her plump lips tightened. "Can I come in?" My eyes were on the doorframe. I was dumbstruck. "Uhh...huh, I dunno," she said, mocking my voice. "Can you?" I'd gone mute. She groaned. She motioned for me to move out the way. I did. She stepped forward, and true to my inklings, the hinge side gave her hips a firm press. For a second she was held, but she was heavy, and she bouldered through. She smoothed a hand down the redness on her side, then rolled her shoulders. Her jacket, like the soft, chunky arms it wrapped around, looked purely vestigial. She clearly couldn't close the zipper across her body. The girl closed the door. She occupied the centre of my room, vast and fat, coughing soft and rapid breaths. "Hey. First of all...fuck you, this is all your fault. Second of all, don't talk unless I tell you. Don't make me angry. Third of all, I'm exhausted. Can I sit down?" "Uhh...sure?" "Thanks. That walk couldn't have been worse. Why do you have to live up a hill?" She deposited herself on my lounge chair. I heard a wheeze of air escaping leather. "I'm so unfit. I haven't been to the gym since I split my leggings trying to run on a treadmill, it was - how d'you put it - humiliating, watching my butt wobble in the pristine glass." I simply stared. She was giving me a queer look. "Am I ringing any bells here?" "I...err...I don't think we've met before..." "No, we haven't." the girl said, shrugging. "But you definitely know me. You know everything about me. You know more about me than I do." I found my own chair, by the laptop. "I'm lost." I admitted to her. "Who are you, exactly?" "I'm Olivia Johnson. Remember me? I'm the straight-A student college star dancer you wrote about and thought - wow, wonder how I can wreck her life? I know! Destroy her figure with some rapid, uncontrollable college weight gain." I blanched. "Yeah. I remember you. And clearly I must be dreaming." Olivia smirked. She lifted her shirt to just underneath her breasts. "No, this isn't real. You're from one of my stories," I told her. "Nooo" she said, mocking my voice again. "All of this...is very, very real." She drifted closer. Her belly was stretched, round, plush with armfuls of quivering fat. "Feel it," she offered. "Give it a rub. Don't you want to?" "This is a dream!" I repeated. But I wasn't waking up. "Touch..." she cooed, pursing her lips. "Feel me. You don't have to hide it here. I know what you really want." Closer and closer she came. She put a shoe on my chair's rolling wheel. I felt my hand travelling upward, to protect myself. But then I stretched out a finger... No sooner had my fingertip poked her stomach than she had seized my wrist with claw-like nails. She slapped me across the face. I felt a burning sensation. "That's for making me get fat. Totally what my plotline needed. Aspiring dancer, star of the family, super fit, starts college and balloons into a separate ZIP code. Thanks." "Nightmare," I decided. "Holy shit. I'm having a lucid nightmare." "I'm real, you dumb asshole! The story you wrote about me was true!" "But...but how is this happening? I didn't write a part where you come alive and travel all the way to my house and break in to confront me! Look...here, let me show you!" I grabbed the mouse, swivelled it and brought up the document on my laptop. The title flashed up in bold. Olivia's New Moves. I scrolled down. Chapter 11. "Look, I haven't even finished the whole thing. You... you're on the plane to your home state. You've left your last lecture that day, it's the end of term. You wanted to go to a health facility for summer, Maeve called you, you got stuck in a toilet. You're trying to get off the plane - how did you get here?" "It's that stupid device," said Olivia. "The Penultimator, it's a thing that transfers fiction to the real world? It is real. The college, the classes, my family, stupid Maeve, all that fricking food - you don't know how, but you created all of it. I got off the plane. I did a search to find out what Maeve told me in the toilet and I found your story online. My story. Word for word, exactly what happened to me. I tracked your username, found your accounts elsewhere, found out where you lived, skimmed your address off a data hosting company and then found you." "Wow," I mumbled. I curled my toes. "Where do I start....err, didn't know it was that easy. I should change my passwords...hang on a minute." I scrolled. The words ended where I thought I'd left them. My sign off. Shift key, exclamation point. "I didn't write any of that last part. The train, the walking. In fact I literally just wrote the plane sequence. How could any of what you just said have happened?" "You haven't written it, but you're going to." "That doesn't make any sense." "It does. Think about it. Nobody writes in the present tense. Everything you've written about me happens in the past. You're going to write how eventually I flew over here, how I boarded a train, how I walked a mile from the station in the pouring rain and found you in the past tense. Like everything else, got it?" "Got it. I think..." Olivia glowered at me, indignant. She tapped her watch. "And?" "Oh...right, I'm guessing you want me to rewrite what happened? The whole...weight gain thing?" Olivia patted her stomach, eyes on me. "You're driving me crazy. I'm literally getting heavier as we speak. What do you think I want?" "Sorry" I mumbled. "I could just delete everything? That's if, you know...you're okay with being wiped from history, maybe." "Try it," she shrugged. "Maybe it's my time. Maybe I had it alright in my little existence as someone's fantasy." Wincing, I clicked my documents and sent the whole folder to the recycle bin. I returned to the internet and ventured to the forum where I'd made the last post. One like, one comment. Not bad for seven minutes. I found the edit button. I highlighted the text. I hit backspace, running page after page away. I found Chapter 1. Olivia's New Moves. She was in my room. She was still there. She was still - I quickly glanced over my shoulder - fat. The text glowed blue. My finger balanced on the button. I closed my eyes. Gone. I scrolled up, and scrolled down. No more fiction. But she was still there. "Errm. Are you feeling anything?" I asked her. "I feel fat," said Olivia. "Just like you wanted, right?" "Didn't work then," I murmured. "Unless..." "Unless what?" "I can figure why. I put it all online. I can't eliminate the possibility that someone copied and pasted them. Maybe for a collection? There's no way I could get it back." "Someone's collection. You're flattering yourself...but shit, you're probably right." Olivia sighed. "You'll have to write an ending with me getting skinny again. Sorry to put you through the torture." Somehow, I had to smile. "I'm not that bad, am I?" "Let's see." Olivia folded her arms. I turned back to the screen. I fished Chapter 11 out of the recycling bin, opened it and scrolled until the page was blank. I began typing. Olivia decided she wanted to lose weight. She walked to the gym. "Walked?" said Olivia. "Seriously? You're letting me walk? I'm walking now? Dude, I waddle. That's how you've moved me since Chapter Eight - she squeezed herself from the booth and waddled to the restroom. Because I'm so swollen from all the plates of food I stuffed myself with at the buffet, remember? That's how I get from A to B when I leave my room, increasingly rarely these days..." She seized a thick roll of her belly. "Hmm. I wonder why?" She gave it a furious shake. "Point taken." I said, bleeding a little on the inside. Like I'd imagined, it took Olivia's fat more than a moment to settle. "Weird. I never saw the point." she said, still jiggling as I turned in my chair to the laptop. "Why was I in bed all morning? Was I tired because I'm fat? Was I lazy because I'm fat? Maybe I was too embarrassed to go downstairs to the real world...because I'm fat? You left it pretty ambiguous. Guess you've got a few different tastes to please, huh? More fool me thinking there's only one fricking track in the world of your fetish." I reddened. "It...could be worse?" I said with a shrug. "No shit," Olivia muttered. "I trawled through a lot of stories after I found mine. Lot of heavy reading. You didn't feed me to a giantess, I guess. Also, am I supposed to thank you for not making me immobile? That seems to happen a lot." My eyes dashed to my edit history. "Yeah. Totally." I mumbled, the colour of my cheeks draining as the first thoughts were struck down by one more harrowing. "Err...are any of the other stories real too?" "Who knows?" the softened dancer replied. "Maybe they are real, to the good writers." She rolled her eyes. "That's...hey, that's not an insult," I said, cheerily. "Oh yeah? I hate you," she blurted. "Your stories like, really suck." "Owch?" "Not done." She eased my hand off the mouse, scrolled up and highlighted the sentence she wanted. "A hefty love handle, her ass, the side of her thick, wobbling thigh; all had bust the unwritten limits of her right armrest, and were bulging off the precipice of her seat. Who the hell do you think you are? Do you get off on Shakespeare too?" "Again..." I shrugged. "Wouldn't call that an insult." "Urgghh! You're the worst! Stop flattering yourself, you fucking narcissist!" I kicked myself from the desk and rolled away. "Give it a go yourself," I suggested. "You're better than me, clearly. Prove your point." "If I could write my own story - " Olivia grumbled " - would I really be standing in your bedroom. I already tried, it didn't work. You're the one with the power to change this." "Look, I don't know how I did it." I said. "You mentioned the Penultimator - that's just a word on a page, to me. I thought I made it up. I don't know what it is. I wouldn't know where to find one. If we could just stop arguing for like, one minute, maybe we can come to some sort of agreement? Then I can go to bed, wake up and it'll be like it was all a dream. No sod that, we're too far gone. A bad trip on acid." I breathed in. "If I'm going to write something that's - if not good, at the very least, plausible - I need to get a feel of what it's really like for you. What was it like, being in my story? Was I controlling you? Did you feel like some sort of puppet?" "No," Olivia said, calmly. "It wasn't. Not in a sense you were directing every movement. I had plenty of freedom between chapters, just not when I was around junk food, clearly. I think you used the phrase eating machine? And seriously, why did you keep making me hungry at midnight? It was so annoying! I had to get up, squeeze into my forlorn pyjamas, somehow not wake my parents while I plodded down the stairs to cram my face and go back to bed on a full stomach! No wonder I slept late so much!" I was about to warn her not get mad again but, as if on cue, she yawned. "You have a place to stay tonight somewhere, right?" I said. "No," Olivia said again with a shrug. "You haven't written one for me." "I'll put you somewhere nice. If I wake up and you still exist we can think about this tomorrow." I flicked on the bedside light and tapped on the keyboard. And after her detour to the bedroom, Olivia grew sleepy. She left through the open door, descended the stairs and was promptly whisked away for a night at the London Ritz I hit enter to post. I spun in my seat. My muse was still standing there, incredulous. She shook her head. "Nope. Not happening." said Olivia. "Maybe it'll work when you go down the stairs," I said. "Maybe there's a footman and a limousine?" "It didn't work. I can't leave through the open door. It's closed, you idiot." "Oh." I muttered. "Sorry...I must be tired too." "Screw it. Get some sleep, you'll write better in the morning. I think I can handle one more night of morbid obesity." I rubbed my eyes. "Fine." I closed my laptop, stood up, opened my wardrobe and fished out my sleeping bag from between the hiking boots at the bottom. I took my laptop in one hand and the bag under my arm as I approached the door. "Where are you going?" said Olivia. "Living room couch." I mumbled. "But this is your bedroom." "And that's your bed for the night. Enjoy." "I can't take your bed from you." "You're not going to fit on the couch. No offence." For the first time that night, she laughed genuinely. "Oh, because I'm huge? Can't let anyone forget it, can we?" She slapped a hand on her plump rear end. "Aren't you a little afraid I might break your bed into splinters? Because I'm so overweight?" She plopped herself down hard on the mattress and the springs squealed. Her boobs were bouncing. But nothing yielded. The bed held firm. "It wasn't made out of plywood, like yours," I said. "Pretty comfortable too. Goodnight!" "Hey, wait," she shouted. "You're making me feel guilty" I found myself grinning. "I wrote a sense of guilt for you?" "I guess so... your writing's awful by the way - I mean, you can stay up here, if you like. It's your place. I don't want you to feel like I've crashed everything." "Wow, Olivia. Thanks, but I'd rather not feel the bruises in the morning. It's an old floor." "I mean in bed, idiot," she whispered under her breath. "Stay with me. I know you're having a rough ride with your stories coming alive at your doorstep but I don't know what the hell's up with me either. It's something bigger than me, if that's even possible. I don't what it is. I just don't want to be alone. I'm always alone. Please?" My feet were rooted. My stance was awkward. "...I can do that." I said. "Woohoo. Get in bed." she replied, deadpan. "Err...let me go brush my teeth." I hopped out of the room to the first door on the left, the bathroom. The first thing I did was splashed cold water in my face. I stared at myself in the mirror. Still real. I could tell as I could hear my bed creaking, with the sound of Olivia slowly stripping her damp clothes off her body. I hung on the last two words. I splashed some more cold water. I took my time with my teeth. I wanted her to be comfortable. I wanted her to believe I was the opposite of everything I'd done. Returning to my room, I shuffled to what was now my side. Her clothes were strewn all over the floor. The t-shirt was pulled out of proportion, and on the verge of ripping. I opened the duvet. Her pillowy form was under the sheets, softly stirring, naked but for her knickers, or panties as she'd have called them. Her breasts had tumbled to each side of her frame, braless. I breathed out. Shit. I hadn't given her a bra that fit since Chapter Eight. I left my side of the sheets tucked in. I lay down over the top, and pulled the duvet to my chin. I stared up at the ceiling. Olivia flicked her eyes at me. She looked me up and down. She saw what I'd done. "Ughh!" she mock-groaned, with a giggle. "Such a virgin." I was too tired to press a case for the defence. She threw the duvet over both our heads, and bucked her hips until she faced the bedside table. She loosened the sheet, kicking her legs free, shoving the edge under her back then rolling over the top. Olivia stuck out a hand and switched the lamp off. Then, breathing a little less softly, she rested. I faced the wall. I uncurled my legs, and rose my head in consternation as gravity drew them to the other side of the bed. My unexpected guest was tanking the mattress from the edge, creating a wallowing depression. Her form unmoving, Olivia was sucking me in, and she knew it. I relented. I rolled from one shoulder to another, facing her side. Now there were centimetres between us. She felt my breath on her shoulder. She softly cranked it up. I let it touch my chest, breathed in, breathed out and closed the gap. She let me push her dark golden hair a little away from my eyes. "Is this...is this really okay with you?" I repeated, whispering in her ear. She took my hand. She purred as she placed it delicately on her plush, yielding waist. "Mhmmphh. Night Campbell." I sighed, then I yawned. "Mhmmm. That's not my name..." I heard no reply. In seconds, the biggest little spoon in the world and I were asleep. If she snored I didn't hear her. I remembered only my dreams. They were never like my stories. I saw a dog, equally sleepy, lazing lonely on a plane, unmoving as a lithe fox swept from the hazy shadows, unflinching as it leapt over its back, again and again. A drooping pair of eyes, and a flash of brown.

"So, does your sweetheart have a name?" said Ange, smiling as she took the signed contract in hand, and parting the shimmering curtain. “Daniel Brackwell,” Evelyn said for the first time, dipping under the manager's arm. His lock of hair was wound tightly round her ring finger, her hands clasped together protectively over her soft stomach. The knot deep inside was even tighter. "And you've known him how long?" "Ten months." She was addressing the carpet on the floor, rich and thick. Evelyn felt as if she was walking on clouds. "Although...err...really, we..." "Don't be shy, gorgeous. It's only us girls here," said Ange, offering a comforting smile. Her teeth sparkled, and her long blonde hair tumbled down her shoulder. "Uh huh," Her partner Devi stuck out her forked tongue insouciantly when they reached the end of the changing rooms. Ange threw her a piercing stare, then turned back to her customer with a warm glow. Evelyn returned a nervous smile. “What I'm trying to say is...umm..." she stumbled, her voice faltering. "We haven’t really met…yet.” “Then how do you know he's the one for you?” Ange asked. “I’ve err… I’ve been watching from afar,” said Evelyn, looking to her side. "Oh really? What's he like?" The student paused. A strange warmth tingled through her fingers, and she felt a small but immovable smile slip through her lips. “We take classes together, he sits two rows in front. Sometimes I see him when I'm queuing for lunch,” Evelyn found herself tickled with butterflies and blushed as she put one foot across the other. “He wears leather jackets, he listens to classic rock and he always smells really nice," she went on. "He's super smart but super humble, he says thank you to lecturers and it's so cute. And he plays basketball, like I did before my scholarship started last year. I feel warm when he’s in the room. I really want him to notice me. For him to maybe make the first move...but, I...I'm too embarrassed," She finished with a sigh. “He’s definitely single?” said Ange. “He sure is,” said Devi. “Look at her. She spent half of last night staring at his ex’s new relationship status.” Evelyn blanched white before her cheeks flushed to red again. “Devi, please…” said Ange. “Oooh. She and the ex don’t speak at all, but she added her so she could look at photos of her and Daniel together. She still hasn’t found the courage to friend request him yet. She dreams about it though.” “How…how do you know that?” said Evelyn. She found herself standing ramrod straight, rushing to arrange her defences “I’m good at guessing stuff you don’t like the fact you love. I’m a vice manager.” said Devi. "Hmm. You like leather too, huh?" The student opened her mouth, and forgot to close it. "Whoah, oh gosh." Devi's pupils grew as she gazed into the distance. "This is more recent. I see cakes, cookies, a lot of pizza - your favourite topping is...mushrooms? Weird, but cool I guess. Oooh, ice cream too, not bad for a student meal plan. Wow, your brain is delicious...okay, that came out wrong," said Devi. "I meant, you really enjoy your food. Heh, right?" Evelyn felt herself shrink a little inside. She pulled instinctively at her sweatshirt, turning a couple degrees from the spotlight in the corridor of curtains. "That...also came out wrong," Ange said plainly. "Forgive us. We're trying to help - we really are - and we'll give you all the support we can before, during and after. Oh! I’m getting your hopes and dreams. You're going to see him tomorrow!" Evelyn bit her lip. "First day of sophomore year," she said with a gentle smile. "Figured if this makeover was as big as I hope it is, I could tell people it happened over summer. I packed this morning, said goodbye to my parents; they won't see me until Christmas – that means I could tell them it happened when I was at college." "You're a smart cookie," said Ange. "But I wouldn't bet on anything drastic. Your Daniel sounds nice, and you already look adorable. We often find the greatest change our customers leave with is in their confidence. Would you me to remind you how it works around here?" "I only get one chance," said Evelyn. "Don't I?" "That's correct," said Ange. "One true love, one chance to change everything over. I'll ask you one more time, and don't worry if you have to think about it. In your heart of hearts, do you want to look like the person Daniel Brackwell dreams his soulmate to be?" Evelyn bit her lip. "I do," she said, clutching a smidgeon of confidence. "Then come this way," 'Changing Rooms' was merely what was printed on the sign. The chambers of the store hosted a whole wing of curtains, mirrors, stools, cushions and clothing racks. Watching Ange stroke a finger down the wall and open a secret door, Evelyn felt the deep expanse of the building as she followed the graceful blonde down a spiral staircase and through a second cavernous corridor, further and further through aisles and rows of empty parlours and benches. They came to a long, old and narrow wooden door, bound with aged iron and loosening nails. "This is your room," said Ange. "Once you enter, you can only leave once you have changed. Have you brought the essence of your visionary?" Evelyn gave her the lock of dark, curly hair she had whisked from Daniel's jacket when his backed was turned. Pursing her lithe fingers, Ange tied the hair around the handle of a key she produced from her necklace, and inserted it into the lock. Twisting it clockwise, she laid a hand on the shivering door handle. A golden haze streaked through the edges of the doorframe. "Are you ready?" Evelyn calmly tucked her sweatshirt back in to her jeans. "Yeah," she said, nodding. "I'm ready," Ange closed her pale blue eyes, and opened the door. She motioned for the student to go through. Evelyn walked into a wall of yellow light, brightening and darkening in sequence. Four ornate mirrors beamed in each corner. Her feet took her up one step, then another, before she realised there were no stairs there at all. She was slowly rising into the air. Taking stools on her left and right, Ange and Devi carefully watched her ascend in the central portal. When she was six feet up, bathed in the golden suspense, Ange snapped her fingers. Evelyn felt ethereal. She took a sharp breath, flinging back her hair. Her lungs filled with glowing air, then a thick. honeyed liquid. She gasped and spluttered. The honey danced in her veins, tantalising her, pumping round her heart. Her stomach felt cavernous, then leaden as it soaked up its surrounds. Suddenly, Evelyn began to rotate, her hips leading her in long, lazy circles. She spun faster and faster, until Ange and Devi's faces blurred into a stream of colours and hues, gold and black, white and red, seeping through the mirrors. She felt a pull from above on her shoulders, and an equal pull from her stomach below. Still spinning, her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she reached a terminal velocity, her hair floating in a radiance of brown. Ange snapped her fingers again and the forces switched in a split-second. Evelyn yelped, conscious to the sudden stretching of her skin as her body gained volume and mass. A peel of pure shock echoed as tightness manifested in her underclothes. Her gyration reached new heights as her weight began to rapidly increase. She gave a whimper as the back of her bra burst loose, her breasts floating in the shirt under her sweater until the material pulled tight across her chest. The stitches of her underwear retreated further and further, while her thighs pressed out against her leggings as they grew larger and larger. Her sweater slinked up her stomach, leaving her belly button exposed, the flesh soft and pliable. "Errmm. This....wasn't part of her inner wishlist..." said Devi, nervously twisting her corset’s black lace. "I'm trying!" said Ange, an arm raised to the light. "She's...oh goodness, she's not finished yet..." "What's happening to me?!" Evelyn cried, her pleas reduced to squeals by the speed of her spinning. The student felt her throat grow warm with adipose, while beads of sweat flew from her chubbier cheeks. Layer after layer piled on to her hips, her arms and shoulders growing pudgy and corpulent. She splayed her fingers as they puffed up in the turgid air, while a jiggling, blubbery roll wrapped its way round her waist. The student felt the first seams of her leggings blow open, and gasped as she felt fresh, soft flab pour over the tear in her waistband. Chins wobbling under her face, her voice was deeper, earthier than before. Her tongue was all she could control, tied past her plumpened lips. Ange stood on her tiptoes, marshalling the best of her abilities. Evelyn’s spinning began to decelerate as the towering blonde felt an ancient energy billow through her ivory sleeves. The student came to a lurching halt, her pulse racing while she surged in width. Her jeans tore at the zipper, the pale crack in the strained curves of blue inching up in length as she slowly descended to the ground. Sinking her head, Evelyn felt the golden liquid douse the edges of her heart. Her vision grew fuzzy, morphing to grey, then black as a final rush of thickening pressed another inch onto her stomach. The light flickered out. Hugely fat, Evelyn dropped the final two feet without ceremony. Dizzy and discombobulated, her legs bottomed out and she landed with a squishy thud, rolling flat on her heavy back with a moan. “Oh my goodness!” said Ange. She dashed to her knees to Evelyn’s shoulder and cradled her sweating face. “I’m so sorry!” “Pffft. Seriously?” said Devi, giving their newly colossal customer a gentle nudge with her foot. She knelt down and let her crimson fingernail softly interact with Evelyn's grossly engorged chest. "Wow. Wait until he gets a load of these," she whistled. "Uhhhhh....ooooohh...." Evelyn groaned, her belly wavering softly. “Stop it! Can’t you feel her pain?” Ange snapped. “Nothing we can’t turn into pleasure,” the redhead retorted. “Be quiet and help me pick her up." Devi raised an eyebrow. “Not like that,” Ange rolled her eyes. "She's in shock. I can’t do this alone, she’s too big. Are you going to help me?” Two hands under each of her arms, the twosome heaved her off the floor and dragged her feet to remove her from the room. Pivoting her heaving body through the doorway, they deposited her on a leather chaise-longue. “Ughhuhhh…” groaned Evelyn. “It’s alright beautiful,” said Ange, gracing her hands with a warm cup of chamomile tea she cast from thin air. “I feel so heavy…” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Ooofff...urghh...what happened?" Ange and Devi looked at each other. “We think..." Ange began. "...your future boyfriend might be attracted to women who are...a little on the larger side.” “A little?” Her partner turned to her incredulously, a hand on her little hip. “Devi...” she hissed. “No…I get it...” said Evelyn. “I’m massive, aren’t I?” She sighed, then sat up and softly slid a hand around her mountainous belly as it folded over her thighs. Acres of soft flesh were there for her to squeeze and stroke - she did so tentatively, reaching around her form in trepidation. She blinked, breathing in exhaustion, her mind dulled and her heart slowly settling down from the stress. She crossed her legs as best she could, gripping each of her ankles and pulling them to her rolling stomach. Facing the fading glow of the portal, she began to fathom how fat she had grown. "Is this real?" she breathed, finally. "Was this supposed to happen?" “If his name is Daniel Brackwell, then yes.” said Ange. “You are now the object of all his innate and most intimate desires.” “Some princes want a princess,” said Devi. “And some just want a bouncy castle.” Ange stomped her heel and punched her in the arm. Devi squeaked. “But what do I do?” said Evelyn, slapping her hands on her hefty sides. “Am I supposed to try and get it on with him? Even though I look like this?” “Well, you must try something. The days of Daniel not noticing you are over,” said Ange. “Yup. You can’t hide,” said Devi. “I don't think you can’t run much either. Hmmm. If he really admired you and wanted you to be happy I kinda woulda thought you’d have some stronger quads. Get ready to waddle down the aisle.” “What she's trying to say is - I don’t think he wants you to overexert yourself,” said Ange. “Yeah, if something's further away than your fridge or your bathroom, make it his job,” said Devi. "Relax, just chill on the couch." “But I'll just get fatter and fatter!” Evelyn wailed, staring down her barreling cleavage. Her big, sweaty chest laboured with her breaths. “I can't live like this. I'm a whale. How am I meant to go to college? How are we meant to go out together? I'm too fat for everything.” She pushed back her hair and attempted to stand up. It was an embarrassing struggle. She huffed as she rolled onto her side, freeing her legs. She got to one knee and threw a palm on the carpet, forced to steady her bulk. Quickly thrusting upward, Evelyn found her feet and brought her thighs together with a soft slap. She staggered half a step backward, her bottom wobbling, holding out her arms to stay level. Gasping for breath, Evelyn stared down at her body with an open jaw. “You can build up your strength, it'll get easier,” said Ange. “We'll help shape you a new lifestyle now you’ve got a lot more to carry around with you.” “Couldn't you just shrink me?” said Evelyn. “That would involve retracting your heart and giving it to someone else,” said Ange. “It’s a very painful process, hence why we only give out one chance to each person.” “Yeah, it's more painful than splitting your jeans at the supermarket,” said Devi. “More painful than the look the register girl gives you when you redeem your hundredth coupon for a free burger at Bronte-Cavendish.” “It’s not impossible,” said Ange. “But unwarranted jokes aside, I think we both believe you should at least give the new you a try,” said Ange. “Meet Daniel. Introduce yourself. Get to know him properly. Let him see you for who you are.” “You think he wants to see me like this?” said Evelyn, seizing handfuls of her bare belly fat and giving them a shake. "Of course." "But...oh no...oh god, it’s tomorrow! I must've outgrown my whole wardrobe. I have literally nothing to wear!” “There there,” said the manager. “You’re forgetting something, dear.” “Huh?” “You’re in a clothes store,” said Devi. “And ours is probably the greatest in eternity. The right style, the right walk, the right impression. We've got it all.” “There’s nothing we can’t cover.” said Ange. “Nothing we can’t accentuate.” said Devi, with a wink.

This is a story written in batmans RP-rule-system. I move it here for easier reading and hope for your input and ideas - if anyone else than batman wants to interact with my story too, feel free to send me a dm! The plot so far in shortest shortness: Elyna is taken as a pawn to guarantee her peoples subservience to their new duchess of the land they settle on. During her first dinner at the castle the elf Elyna gravely insults her overweight hosts and triggers heavy consequences for herself... The rules can be found here:

The following story is my first time trying to join in as a writer and supporter to @Batman76's D&D style RP, and I will do my updates her from now on. if you want to see the rules or give suggestions go to the link below ^^ Weight Gain Roleplay rules

Hey all. Just posting a story that I had put up on my P*treon page a little while ago. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks. Bored to Tears….In Your UniformBy Jake (JMJ)“And that’s pretty much the gist of it. You clock in, watch the monitors and that’s that. Nothing more to it.”Dan Capper stood back from the wall and smiled. He was showing around his potential new hire, Madison Davids around the facility.The warehouse contained a hodgepodge of goods that Dan had let small retailers use to ensure that they could keep up with supply and demand. Charging at such a low price allowed him to expand to other storage units, making him the biggest non-name brand storage facility in the tri-state area.“Sounds pretty simple. There has to be a catch though, you’re willing to pay someone $31.50 to sit on their rears for 10 hours a day basically doing nothing. What gives?”Madison was no idiot. She had just finished graduate school that past June and now that it was September, was trying to pick up some extra cash as she looked for schools to intern at. It had been tough sledding and she was not trying to be broke before she actually got a real job.Dan’s face grew pale as he shuffled his feet nervously. The large, usually happy go lucky man was no longer happy; he looked downright despondent. He rubbed his stubble and sighed.“Yeah, about that. Now, I don’t believe in this, so you have to understand that first.”She looked at him confused, unsure of where this was going.“The past few people in your position, well, let’s just say that by the time they quit they needed to use the unloading dock to leave, if you catch my drift.”Madison was puzzled at first but then got what he was saying.“Ah, they got fat working here. I see. Well, I’m sure being bored for all hours will do that to people with lack of discipline. I on the other hand have…”He cut her off.“No. I don’t mean it like that. I mean they claimed the place was haunted. Like there is a ghost or some creatures in here or something.”Madison at first couldn’t comprehend what she had just heard.“There’s no way he just said ghosts, right” she asked herself.When she looked at his face however, it was obvious that he was still serious. This only caused her to laugh, almost a defense mechanism to hearing something so outlandish.“Ha-ha-ha, ghosts? Like Casper?”Dan did not smile.“It sounds dumb, I know. But they weren’t very descriptive of what happened. They just said it was the creatures fault they had blown up and gotten fat.”“I’m sure they’re just using that as an excuse for why they put on a few pounds.”She smiled at her soon to be boss, but again, he was not amused.“The last guy who worked here went from my size to easily 500 pounds in a year. The girl before that made it 6 months and nearly doubled in size. I do not think that’s “just a few pounds”, he said matter of factly.Madison bit her tongue and decided to play along. It was an easy job and she did not want to offend her boss, even if he did seem a bit crazy talking about ghosts. Better to just play along and get paid.“Fair enough. I’ll take the risk though. I use my Peloton, I’ll be ok.”She extended her hand and let him shake it. He just nodded.“Alright, I’ll go get the paper work and the legal documents stating I’m not liable if anything happens to you like it did the others.”He trudged back to his office to get the documents, Madison following closely behind, doing her best to restrain herself from laughing in his face again.*“This uniform is pretty hideous. I look like a rejected UPS driver.”Madison frowned as she looked at herself in the mirror. The brown shirt was very baggy, hiding her C cup breasts and flat but untoned stomach. Her toned thighs were hidden inside of the roomy brown slacks, showing off none of the muscle definition she had built up by using her exercise bike. Madison was a trim 5’3, weight barely over 100 pounds. Some of her muscle tone was due to exercise; some of it was due to her being thin. Either way, she thought she looked good.“Oh well, it’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone in the middle of the fall at 11pm on a Saturday night”, she muttered.Her shifts were all at night, with weekends being different hours than during the week, which she knew would mess with her sleep schedule and daily habits, but the money was good enough and she really needed to start paying back her loans. She really did not have much of a choice.”“Just suck it up Madison, you did this all through your senior year of college, you just tough it out for 12 months or however long it takes to get a teaching gig and you’ll have some extra cash and some of the loans up to date.”With the pep talk finished, Madison grabbed her car keys and headed off for her first night of work.*A yawn emerged out of the brown-haired woman’s face as she glanced over at the alarm clock on the desk. It read 1:18 am, meaning she was only an hour and a half into her shift.“I need coffee.”She looked back at the six monitors, seeing that the warehouse was secure inside and no one was around outside or on the roof. Satisfied that she could leave for a minute or two, Madison got out of her plush chair, exited the makeshift office, and headed to the workers breakroom.The breakroom was also a very sparsely filled room, containing a small sink, a miniscule table with two folding chairs, a vending machine, a knock off Keurig coffee maker, and a filtered spout near the sink for water. It wasn’t exactly the most welcoming sight to see at 1 in the morning. It got worse when she opened the fridge to see that the only options to put in her coffee were half and half and whole milk. She begrudgingly grabbed the whole milk and put it on the counter.“Whatever” she thought as she headed to the coffee maker.As she waited for the device to prepare her coffee, something out of the corner of her eye made her turn around. Sitting on the table rested a box of donuts from Dunkin, something she was sure had not been there when she walked in. Her mind flashed to thoughts of the “creatures” but she shook it off as being overtired. She had been working odd hours this first week, so it was only natural that she missed it.“Get a grip, Madison. That box was definitely there when you walked in. It’s not as if a creature or a ghost brought it for you. Someone probably had it earlier in the day. Yeah, that’s it.”Madison poured some milk into her Styrofoam cup and giggled to herself as she left the breakroom, realizing how silly it was to think that anything supernatural had caused the donuts to materialize.The hours dragged on as Madison found herself returning to the breakroom two more times to get coffee, each time the sight of the donuts got her to laugh more and more. If this was the “ghost’s” big move, it was going to be disappointed.“I’m not going to eat this, ghost. You can try all you want, but I’ll stay away,” she said out loud, half joking and half seriously.She resumed pouring her milk into the coffee and then retreated to her chair. She figured that her little outburst would be therapeutic and cause her to relax. And, for the rest of the shift, it did.

This is my second story in @Batman76's RP-Rules. it will be darker and a slower burn than the first, but then again, that doesn't mean much enjoy ~~~ Joy Sunshine age: 21 height: 1,68m or ~5’6” (6.25 lb / FP) starting weight: 165 lbs. (~26 Fat Points) class: Sorceress (destruction, healing, cursing, nature) race: Half-Elf Half-Elfs? When elf-women flaunt their incredibly slim bodies at every opportunity and enjoy sexual flings with usually genetically non-compatible humans, in rare occasions end up with a surprise pregnancy. Then the race of immortal, magically skilled people who are also thin, pretty and kind of full of themselves combines with the lumberfoot humans that do get fat so easily and in a lot of different ways - on top escalated by the slow metabolism of the elves. Race Abilities: extra fat feat SLOW METABOLISM, on level up they gain double attribute points Race Bonuses: +15 to ATHLETICS and CHARISMA, -10 to WILLPOWER Atrributes Athletics 42+20=62 Constitution 69-10=59 Intelligence 39=39 Willpower 98-30=68 Charisma 71+65=136 Mental Feats: (20) GOTTA GET THIN: the PC is obsessed with losing weight. They roll with advantage on WILLPOWER checks to lose weight or avoid overeating. (26) GUILTY CONSCIENCE: the PC knows they need to be dieting and exercising, they're out of shape and their health is starting to go. Anytime the PC fails a WILLPOWER check to avoid over eating, they take a 5 point penalty to all WILLPOWER checks the rest of the day out of guilt. Physical Feats: (Lipo-Vampiress) SUPERNATURAL ATHLETE: Lipo-Vampires are supernaturally athletic. They fail to take Athletics penalties until they reach 50 FAT POINTS but from there take normal penalties. (race) SLOW METABOLISM: Through the lower but more efficient muscle mass of her elven parent, this half-elf PC gains weight easily. WEIGHT GAIN from OVEREATING is doubled, CONSTITUTION checks to avoid weight gain are rolled with DISADVANTAGE. (20) THUNDER THIGHS: "I sneak forwards..." "CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP" "The Orcs notice you." The PC's gains primarily in their legs, making them slow, ungainly and clumsy. ATHLETIC penalties towards running, sneaking, riding and dancing are increased by 50% at OVERWEIGHT/25 FAT POINTS and rolled with DISADVANTAGE at OBESE/30 FAT POINTS. However, the PC doesn't take CONSTITUTION damage per FAT POINT until 30 FAT POINTS. (26) SWEET TOOTH: "Another slice you say? Well it is so hard to resist...", this character has a taste for sugar (and grease, fat, salt etc), making it hard to control themselves around unhealthy food. WILLPOWER rolls to avoid OVEREATING are rolled with DISADVANTAGE. Bonds Born Lipo-Vampiress: She is stronger and faster and gets the SUPERNATURAL ATHLETE feat. While classic holy symbols and sunlight with on then, their true weakness is that they gain one fat point per day. She could inject the fat into victims when necessary but always hungered to suck it from other victims as well. In all sizes she is very charming and seductive (+30 CHARISMA) Crippled Vampirism: The inquisition has destroyed her ability to suck or inject excess fat into others. Only a compensating hunger for irresponsibly fatty foods and the mysterious daily gain of one FAT POINT and her strength remain. And sometimes her fangs uncontrollably show up. Vampire-Suppressant: The alchemical solution has to be taken daily to suppress the daily gain of one fat point and her hunger for fat, but it makes her powerless (ATHLETICS -15) and triples the calories delivered from all normal food. (Overeating counts as overeating three times, enchanted food and weight gain spells affect her normally). Stacks with SLOW METABOLISM ~~~~~ Alara Stonemark Age: 29 height: 1,93m or ~6’4” (8.25 lb / FP) starting weight: 384 lbs. (~46 Fat Mass Points) Class: Barbarian Race: human Atrributes: Athletics 187 Constitution 172 Intelligence 69 Willpower 75 Charisma 39 Mental Feats: (20) ITS ALL MUSCLE: the PC believes, rightly or wrongly, that their increased fat is a thin layer of bulk over muscle. -5 penalty to WILLPOWER to avoid over eating, advantage to ATHLETICS to exercise. (26) BULGING BRAVERY: rightly or wrongly, the character believes their bulk is a sign of toughness and strength. Must pass a WILLPOWER check before a physical action, receives advantage to the subsequent ATHLETIC checks on a success. Physical Feats: (20) NATURAL ATHLETE: "How long did I train for winning this marathon? What do you mean, I just thought everyone looked like they were having fun?" This PC is blessed by God to be an amazing athlete. While at NORMAL WEIGHT they automatically pass ATHLETICS tests, while at OVERWEIGHT they roll ATHLETICS with ADVANTAGE. They fail to take Athletics penalties until they reach 35 FAT POINTS and from their only take half penalties. (24) BIG BONED: "Yeah I'm a size ten but that's just how I'm built..." this PC says they aren't fat and to a degree they're right. Until they hit OBESE/30 FAT POINTs they take no ATHLETICS or CONSTITUTION damage per FAT point and take half ATHLETICS or CONSTITUTION damage per FAT point from then on. Reroll if character already has SMALL FRAMED. (26) BIG MILKERS: "Oh these? Oh yeah, they're getting bigger still. Why would I diet, it all goes to the girls first...they do make my back a bit sore..." This PC is blessed with a bountiful bosom by genetics, making them sexier to all and acting as a caloric disposal area...for a while. On gaining FAT POINTS between 20-24, this character's CHARISMA bonus increases by 2 instead of one with all NORMY NPCs, she takes no penalty with FAT FETISH NPCS despite being a normal weight and does not suffer ATHLETICS or CONSTITUTION loss per FAT POINT due to the fat failing to land on her limbs or core. On gaining FAT POINTS in the OVERWEIGHT category between 25-30, her CHARISMA increases by 1 among all NORMY NPCs instead of falling by 2 and increases by 4 among FAT FETISH NPCS instead of by 2, her ATHLETICS and CONSTITUTION scores however now fall by 4 points per FAT POINT instead of 3 to represent strain on her back. From 30 FAT POINTS onward, the PC's penalty/bonus on CHARISMA towards NORMIE/FAT-FETISHIST increases by 50% over baseline to represent rampant gigantomastia , while her ATHLETICS and CONSTITUTION penalties increase by 50% to represent immense back strain. (28) FAST METABOLISM: whether through youth, a high fat burn from lean muscle mass or just the genetic lottery, this PC gains weight very slowly. WEIGHT GAIN from OVEREATING is halved, CONSTITUTION checks to avoid weight gain are rolled with ADVANTAGE.

THE BBW BASH Chapter 1 It was a normal Saturday at UCSB, quiet and empty. Amber was with her two girlfriends, Sarah and Amira. Amber had been friends with them since the beginning of freshman year. That was almost three years ago. Now they were going into their senior year! Amber had known one thing, that Sarah and Amira had her back. The trio was sat at a table by the Ucen. They had all just gotten Jamba Juice and were enjoying their day off. It was the beginning of summer and classes wouldn't begin for another week. “Hey guys! there’s this event going on in downtown. I think we should all go.” Amber told her two girlfriends with excitement. “What kind of event?” Amira asked. “More importantly, how much does it cost?” Sarah added. “It’s a BBW event. And I think I saw that it costs around $25 per person per night.” “What’s a BBW? And why are they having a bash? Sorry I’m kinda dumb when it comes to acronyms.” Amira said with a look of confusion on her face. “BBW stands for ‘big beautiful woman’ Amira. It’s a body-positive event where big girls and even big guys can let loose and have fun.” “Um, Amber, why would we go? Amira and I are not what you’d consider ‘big beautiful women’…” “Well I am. And I think you’d enjoy it anyway. It gives you perspective on how others live and navigate life.” Amber said looking at Sarah. “I guess we can go Amber. But it might be awkward for Sarah and since we’re not exactly ‘BBWs’ y’know?” “I think I might have a solution to that problem.” Amber said with a grin on her face. “A solution to what? What are you going to do, make us fat?” Amira said with the most confused look on her face. “Maybe. Remember Zach, the guy who played Rugby? Turns out he was a secret FA and feeder.” “Amber, you’re using a lot of weird terminology today. Like what do you mean by ‘FA’ and ‘feeder’?” Sarah asked. “‘FA’ stands for ‘fat admirer’ and a ‘feeder’ is someone who tries to fatten someone else up, as opposed to feedee who gets fattened up by either themselves or a feeder. These words are used all the time in fat fetish communities.” “Okay…So what about Zach being an FA and a feeder is going to help us?” asked Amira. “He left me a few special dresses that have magical properties. Like when…” Amber was cut off by Amira. “Wait, wait, special dress? Magical properties? Now I know you’re fucking with us Amber. There’s no such thing as magic. You know that. I know that. The whole fucking world knows that!” “Okay Amira, since you’re so skeptical, why don’t you try one of them on. See it for yourself. If it doesn't work then that means that you were right. But if it does work then you’ll get to be a big girl for the BBW event.” “You’re joking, right? Sarah back me up on this. She can’t be serious!” “I’m willing to give it a try. I mean it won’t hurt to try.” Sarah said quietly. “Really Sarah?! You’re both Bio majors. How can you believe in magic. Okay Amber, if these dresses are so magical, then how does it work?” Amira said in an excited voice. “I don’t want to spoil it too much. But when you put one on, you start to gain a certain amount of weight. Different dresses add different amounts of weight.” “How much weight?” Asked Sarah in an intrigued voice. “You’ll both have to find out. They’re in my closet back at the apartment.” “I guess we can try these ‘magical dresses’ out. I mean I’ll be so happy when I’m right. I’m pretty sure they just make you look bigger. There’s no way they actually make you gain weight.” The three girls headed over to their apartment in Isla Vista. They had a two-bedroom apartment that they shared with Alex, their other roommate. She was usually off with her boyfriend so they never see much of her. Amber led the three into the apartment. She was amazed at how quiet Amira and Sarah were the whole way. Neither of them said a word. They walked inside and went into Amber and Amira’s room, which was on the left. They headed straight for the closet. “Okay Amber, show me this ‘magical dress’.” Amira said sarcastically using air quotes. “Okay, here is one of them. It’s a simple black dress that goes to just above your knees. Amira I think you should try it on.” “Whatever. I mean the dress is already too big for me. It’s not like it’s going to get any bigger when I put it on.” She said as Amber handed her the dress. Amira grabbed the dress with hesitancy. “If you’re so sure I’m making this all up, then try it on. Let’s at least see what it looks like on you.” Amber said teasing Amira. “Fine! I’ll put the damn thing on.” As Amira mentioned earlier, the dress was far too big for her. It was designed with Amber in mind. She took off her jeans and her crop top. She unzipped the back and put the straps over her shoulders. “Can someone zip me up. I mean there’s no point since this dress doesn’t even fit me. It’s ridiculous big on me.” Amber, without hesitation, quickly zipped Amira up. When the zipper had reached the top of the dress, the magic began. Amira’s eyes opened wide when she began to feel herself change. “Um guys, I feel kinda funny. Like there’s this warm tingly feeling all over my body. What’s happening?” And just as Amira finished her sentence, her whole body began to quiver. She noticed her boobs getting bigger before her eyes. Then just as she had focused in on her chest, she felt her butt and hips expanding out and wide. “Okay Amber, whatever you’re doing, it’s not funny. I really don’t know what’s going on. I feel my body growing and there’s a strange warm feeling.” “You’re getting fatter dummy. Look in the mirror. You’ve got to be around 250 right now, and you’re nowhere near finished yet!” Amira turned as best she could to face the mirror on the closet door. She saw her plump self getting bigger by the second. A look of anxiety quickly took over her face. Her doubt and skepticism were long gone. “I’m going to close my eyes. I don't want to keep looking at my body getting fatter. You were right Amber and I was wrong. Happy?! Now please make this feeling go away.” And just as a tear drop began falling from Amira’s eyes, she opened one of them. She then slowly opened the other one. “What happened? Is it over? Am I really fat? I don’t want to see what I look like.” “How does the dress feel? Tight? Loose? Just right?” Amber said with a smile on her face. “Kinda loose, but in the right way. Not like it’s going to fall or anything.” Amira said quietly. “Look down. Tell me what you see.” Amber said fiercely. “Um I just see my enormous boobs. I can’t even see my stomach. How fucking fat am I right now?!” Amira said nervously. “Probably in the upper 400s. How much did you weigh before you put the dress on?” “I don’t know, 180?” Amira said with a confused look on her fat face. “I can see that though, her being like 500 pounds.” Sarah said after being silent the whole time. “What do you mean 500?! Am I that big?!” “Look in the mirror.” Amira turned once again to the mirror. She noticed how difficult this now was given all the extra weight. “God, I can’t even turn properly.” Amira saw her reflection and just gasped. “I knew I was going to be big, but goddamn I’m enormous. I have like three chins and I don’t even have knees anymore.” “Yep that dress is designed to add 300 pounds to your body. It does its best to work with your body’s natural proportions to be seemingly realistic.” “I kinda want to try it too. Do you have another dress like this?” Sarah said pointing at the closet. “God I can’t even walk. And just standing hurts my fat feet.” Amira said talking towards the bed. “Don’t sit on the bed Amira, you might break it. I’m not even kidding. Go sit on the couch.” “Fine. Ugh. Now I have to get my fat ass all the way over there.” “How big do you want to get Sarah? 200 pounds bigger? Or 300 pounds bigger? I have both kinds of dresses.” Amber said while moving clothes around in her closet. “300 pounds. That way it’s fair to Amira.I don’t want her being the only B…B…W. Is that it? Did I say it right?” “Yeah. But technically Amira is what you’d call an ‘SSBBW’. That stands for super-sized big beautiful woman. I think it’s applied to women 350 and above.” “Okay, well fatten me up I guess. And please tell me the dress you have is also cute.” “It is. I have this sexy red floral dress. It’s kinda short, but it’ll look really sexy on you. It’ll also show a lot of cleavage.Trust me.” Amber said handing the dress to Sarah. Sarah grabbed the dress. She noticed that it wasn’t a zip-up dress, but rather a strapless dress. She slid into it. It was really big on Sarah. But unlike Amira, she didn't say anything. “Here goes nothing.” Sarah said. “Imma go check on Amira, see how she’s doing. You’re starting to get fatter. Do you like the feeling?” “Yeah actually. I don’t see why Amira was complaining. It’s kinda nice.” Amber walked out into the living room only to see Amira snacking on Amber’s Goldfish crackers. “What are you looking at? I can’t help it. I’m huge! And I guess my appetite got the memo.” Amira said with a mouthful of crackers. “How’s the dress? Fitting all right?” “I guess. It feels a little tight around my stomach area, which I just noticed goes all the way down passed my pussy. How do fat girls even have sex? Doesn’t the belly get in the way?!” “BBWs are smart that way.” Amber smiled. “Wait. Is Sarah getting fat too? I see something big in our room.” Amira said peaking into their room. “Yeah. She has a floral dress on. It’s also strapless.” “Damn, she’s going to get all the attention at the BBW thing. Is she getting as big as me? Or bigger?” “Probably the same size. I don’t know how much Sarah weighed before putting on the dress, but she’ll definitely be in the upper 400s. How do you like being big so far?” “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. But I definitely feel all the weight. It’s like this mass that kinda holds you back. Tell me, what happens when I take the dress off?” “If you take the dress off, nothing will happen. But if you get completely naked, then you’ll start to shrink. It’s weird I know. It took me a while to get the hang of it.” “Now I have even more questions. Like how big did you get when you put this dress on? And where did your ex even get it from?And why is it that I’ll shrink back down only when I’m completely naked?! So many more things to ask now.” “Well I don't know where he got it. All I know is that I was like 600 pounds when I put on these dresses for him. And he knew more about how they work then I do. He bought them or something.” “Guys! Guys! I think I’m done growing. I can’t see my toes, or my belly button. Does that mean I’m done?” Sarah shouted from inside their room. “I’m coming. I can’t wait to see how you fit that dress. It probably looks good on you.” “Um. How do I look? Sexy?” Sarah said awkwardly while trying to turn her huge body. “You look better than I thought you’d look to be honest. Sarah, I love this outfit on you. Your curves are just amazing.” “They are?! I do?! Wow. Let me look at myself in the mirror.” Sarah turned to look at herself in the mirror. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of her new figure. She even grabbed her belly with both hands and started lifting up and letting it fall just to see how heavy it was. “I think I can get used to this. I don’t see why you were so hesitant Amira. This BBW event thing is going to be awesome. I’m probably going to get all the guys with this body.” “Speaking of the BBW thing, you actually never told us when it is Amber. I just want to get out of this thing as soon as I can.” “It’s tonight actually. It starts at 10. It’s downtown at the Wildcat Lounge. I think I might put on a special dress too, just so it’s fair.” “How much are you going to gain Amber? 300 like us?” Sarah asked. “No, only 200. I already weigh 315. So that’ll put me at 515. So bigger than you two. I just want to all be big and beautiful. And I didn't want to be the smallest one. So here, I’ll put on this solid green strapless dress. Can’t wait to see what my cleavage will look like.” She took off her skirt and shirt. She put on the dress and began expanding. It was only a little too big on her. “I love this feeling. It’s just so nice and comforting. It’s like being rubbed down by warm lotion, y’know.” “Quick question: how are we going to actually get to the BBW event tonight? I mean I doubt I can drive with this big ol’ belly. And you two are even bigger than me.” Amira pointed out. “I can drive us. Don't you worry Amira. My seat goes back far enough so my belly won't get in the way. And say my belly is too big for me to drive, then you can drive Amira.” Amber reassured them. “Are you done getting fatter? I feel like your body hasn’t significantly expanded in the last minute.” Amira said. “Yeah. My body no longer feels warm so yes I am. Aren't I sexy? Look at my huge ass.” “So jealous.” Sarah said. “Well we have about an hour and a half. Who’s hungry?” “I’m super hungry. I don't think I’ve ever been this hungry in my life.” Sarah said grabbing her belly. “Want to go to McDonald’s? We can go to the one by the airport. I know I’ll be ordering a huge meal. I’ll prove to you that I can still drive even with this huge belly.” “I so want to see how far back your seat goes. If your belly doesn't get in the way than your boobs surely will. I bet you can’t even see anything underneath your chest.” “We’ll see.” They all waddled out into the driveway. Only Amber’s 2002 Honda Civic was there. And Amber opened the car door and before even saying anything, pushed the seat as far back as it could go. She then stepped inside the vehicle. There car noticeably sank down when she got in. Sarah and Amira looked at each other for a solid minute trying to decide who’d sit in front and who’d sit in back. “You’re kinda bigger than me. I suggest you sit in back Sarah.” “But if you push the seat all the way back I might not even fit. Will this car even be able to hold our combined weight? I have serious doubts.” “That’s a good point Sarah.” Amber said looking down in disappointment. “UBER? I got a free code from HK yesterday. We can get something to eat downtown before we hit the Wildcat.” Amira said quickly. “Good idea.” Amber said. Amira ordered an UBER from her phone. She saw that it would take 25 minutes for their driver to pick them up. “Well we have a little over 20 minutes. I guess we should just hang out here.