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My, You've Grown

You gawp at yourself as your belly balloons out, utterly powerless to stop it. You futilely try to support your gut with your chubby arms, but soon it's simply too big: the front and sides of it simply spill down beyond your grasp, causing the rest of the soft, blubbery mass to slip through your arms and bounce hugely. Your spine creaks from the strain of holding yourself up. Your skin now feels taut on your body, and the soreness is increasing.

After a short time, you feel your underbelly touch the ground with a soft, meaty sound. As it does so, your belly begins to spread like a brown water balloon that's still on the tap. It bulges outward in all directions, including up. You are now taking up all too much floorspace for your liking. This you deduce from the increasing region of cold flatness that your gut is registering, because your view has been completely cut off. You also feel your belly spreading sideways and back a little. Your stubby legs are being forced outwards by the inexorable pressure of growing layers of fat. You can feel yourself getting bigger, and bigger ...

After the witch picks herself up off the floor, she waves her hands in a complex gesture, and you feel the expansion subside. You look at your ... well, your belly, but the word doesn't seem enough to encompass it. The word 'fat' doesn't encompass you, either. Gargantuan, maybe, or behemoth. They fit, maybe, if they're in extra bold type.

You are now practically eclipsed by your paunch. Spreading out a good 7 or so feet, your flabby chest has been forced up on its shelf and is nearly suffocating you, even with your head being forced upwards by the pressure. It is roughly the shape of a giant sphere, but slightly pear shaped due to its resting firmly on the ground. You've expanded outward so much that you are forced to awkwardly straddle your tum on tiptoe, with flab and blubber flowing and rubbing against your legs. You feel roughly three times as broad as you were, and you were a tubby hippo to start with! The vast bulk is never still, either, the slightest motion setting the surface quivering and jiggling

Fortunately, most of the weight is being taken by the ground. Your skin, however, feels unbearably tight. The stretching has made it incredibly tender: even the light breeze in the room sets it tingling. What's worse, the swelling has pressed your blubber out and up into your arms. Almost automatically, they are running over the small fragment of the curve that they can reach, caressing and rubbing. The intensity of the feeling is almost painful, but you can't stop. It takes all your effort to concentrate on the witch, who's giving orders concerning you to the other werecreatures. Her words float up to your rounded ears:

Written by Lupine (edited by wanderer)

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