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The Power of Fantasy
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 03, 2012 12:07 am    Post subject: The Power of Fantasy Reply with quote

The Power of Fantasy

Chapter I

What is magic?

Magic is energy, or perhaps in a different sense, the manipulation of energy. Please, let me try to explain: Energy pervades the universe, obviously, in the form of light, heat, sound, kinetic, potential, I could go on but you probably get the point. Magic allows for the manipulation of energy, but the final result of this is staggering, because thanks one human called Albert Einstein you have the equation E=mc^2, in other words energy and mass are equivalent, proportionality irrespective. So that means if you can manipulate energy then you can create matter, and if you can create matter then, well you get the point. One problem, that proportionality I said was irrespective, it’s not really. That constant, c^2, is big, think something of the order of 10^17, and if that doesn’t mean much then think REALLY BIG. So one obvious question, where the hell do you get the energy to use magic?

For centuries our race (if you hadn’t already gathered, we’re not human) has existed on a higher plane to your universe, and we had power, immense power, but no way to use it. The knowledge, it was said, had died with our ancestors. And as we watched the multiverse evolve we saw you, and we were amazed. This tiny little planet in the vastness of your universe had sentient life, but more than that, it had minds the likes of which we had never seen. In a matter of millennia you had technology that rivalled civilisations before you that had persisted for hundreds of thousands of years, but even more amazing was your minds themselves. Their structure was unlike anything we’d ever encountered, and at your whim you could imagine things so vivid that they felt real, and here we found the source of our energy. One fantasy from a single human could grant a member of our race enough energy to wield magic without consequence for eons, and your planet had over 6 billion inhabitants, so we developed ways to store this energy and devoted our time, while your race persisted, to gather as much energy as we could, for who knew how long such a thing could last. And so, finally, we come to the crux of the matter. We said that fantasy gave us power, and that is appropriate as you understand the term, for fantasy, as you comprehend it, frequently has an element of physical attraction, and these we have discovered yield the most energy, more than any other sources combined. So we grant you, Adam Taylor, the use of our powers to fulfil your fantasies, for the energy you create from them will further our race. Your tastes are unusual for your time, though not that unusual in your race’s brief history, so now, awake, and use these gifts, they are yours as long as you continue to empower us, go then, and tell no one of what you have heard. Awake!

Adam Taylor woke up with a jolt, feeling as though he had just been electrocuted. He was unable to see, blinded by a light that seemed to flood his senses, and his mind raced as neural pathways opened and he was suddenly aware of, of... something. Something bigger than any one thing, something that felt perpetual, and changing, and he thought he could guess at what it was. Then, seemingly without conscious thought, he knew what it was, this WAS magic. It flowed through him, every atom of his being vibrated with energy, energy he could sense, manipulate at will. He looked around his room, he could feel the energy inherent in all the matter he saw, he looked closer still, and felt the energy of the air itself. Instinctively, as though the knowledge had always been there, he imparted kinetic energy to a light-switch and instantly the lights turned on. Marvelling at the feeling of power coursing through him, Adam began to contemplate the full implications of what had happened, and thought more closely on what the voices had said. They had said he was to fulfil his fantasies, that much was clear, but how? He had no sooner asked himself the question than the answer presented itself: any way he wanted.

Adam lived in a house in the centre of Cambridge, where he was a student currently in his fourth year specialising in Neuroscience after three years of a more general course in Biology, with five others, two boys and three girls: Cheng, a Part III Maths Student; Kyle, an MIT Engineering student in an exchange program; Katie, a Music student in her third year; and the twins Sarah and Nicole in their fourth year both studying Arabic and French as two half-courses. The house was reasonably large, and was owned by Adam’s grandparents who allowed him to lease it to others in return for 30% of the rent to cover his own, all six of them lived together in relative harmony, a feat achieved by sheer luck and Katie, who was extraordinarily good at mediating arguments and putting people in a good mood. Adam came downstairs to find Nicole over the stove, cooking pancakes for Kyle, Katie and Sarah, whistling as was her habit, while she cooked. He sat down with a glass of water and watched as Sarah and Katie appreciatively ate their pancakes, smiles on their faces, and had an idea. All three of the girls were quite attractive: Nicole and Sarah were identical, 5’9”, blonde hair that they had both let grow to waist length, thin faces, well-defined jaw lines and high cheekbones, vibrant blue eyes, a college-renowned hourglass figure comprising full C cup breasts, gently flaring hips and the narrow waist seen only on girls who have never had to watch what they eat, their legs were smooth and shapely, well-defined from years of tennis and swimming, and their behinds were small, defined, and exquisitely framed in the twins preferred apparel of really tight jeans. When Nicole and Sarah first arrived, they had started dressing alike on a dare, but they had grown so used to it and found it so useful, particularly in swapping supervisors and boyfriends, that they had continued, much to the delight of the majority of the male population. Katie was shorter than the twins, a little over 5’8”, with brown hair that she kept shoulder length, so that it framed her rounded, almost cherubic face. When she had first arrived, Katie had been a former cheerleader, exactly what you would expect: breasts that overflowed her D cup bras, a waist so narrow you almost expected to see her internal organs, a quite full posterior that must have lifted up her cheerleading skirts sumptuously. However, unlike Nicole and Sarah, Katie had always had to work hard to maintain her figure, rigorous exercise, dieting and so forth, so that when she reached university, and the pressure started to get to her, she’d abandoned these activities in favour of her degree. Unsurprisingly this had led to some considerable weight gain, at her peak she’d been at almost 170lbs, up from about 115lbs when she first arrived, but now she’d settled her weight at a steady 125lbs, and the effect was, to all but the most thin-obsessed minds, a definite improvement. Her face had softened, her waist had thickened slightly, reducing the almost comical disparity between her measurements, and her body had softened all over, removing the muscle tone garnered over years of cheerleading to leave an extremely attractive package. At least, Adam thought, to the conventional mind.

Adam focused on the mouthful of pancakes making their way to Katie’s open mouth and created an invisible plane that stretched across the opening of her throat, and as the pancakes passed it he could see, or perhaps sense, the material replicating. The sugars doubled, so did the carbohydrates, without Katie ever realising, and with this so did the caloric content. Adam watched as the mouthful slid down Katie’s throat and entered her stomach, and marvelled at the process he could now see in a fantastic display of lights as the stomach acids began to break the mouthful down, and transport the constituents to where they were needed. Adam began to imagine the effects that doubling Katie’s daily intake would have, and smiled. He then turned his attention to Sarah and Nicole, who had both been identical for so long that he was loath to split them apart, so gave them the same treatment: sending tendrils of thought to their brains, which he could now recognise the sheer enormity and complexity of, he navigated to the pleasure receptors and made small changes to the chemistry of their brains. Adam had often wondered if what he was doing was possible before that morning, and had spent many hours poured over books and test tubes and microscopes exploring the possibility, and now he discovered, to his delight, that his newfound gifts gave him insight into the working of the human mind beyond anything he’d ever imagined: the ability to explore the neural pathways as they fired was extraordinary, and seeing the chemicals form and interact made everything so clear he thought he’d never have to study again. As Nicole took her first bite of the pancakes she had just cooked for herself (she knew Adam never ate breakfast) he watched her eyes light up and heard an almost inaudible gasp as Adam’s changes to her brain chemistry caused the detection of sugar to trigger her pituitary and hypothalamus to flood her brain with endorphins. Next to her, Sarah was exhibiting similar signs of heightened pleasure and both of them bolted the remainder of their meal and then lay back briefly, cheeks slightly flushed, as the inimitable sense of well-being permeated their bodies. Then, jumping to their feet at almost the exact same moment, they ran back to the frying pan and started pouring more batter into it, both returning shortly with another stack which they began to eat with rapturous pleasure.

“God,” said Katie, “You two are the luckiest girls I know. If I, heck, if anyone else, ate like you two they’d be as big as a house. I still have to watch what I eat and I run four miles every day, the only time you two run is to trawl the gym for cute guys.”

“Mmpf,” Sarah articulated, “Ha Ha. Mmmmm. Anyway, that’s not true. We have a rigorous exercise plan that involves walking a few hundred metres everyday to our lectures, so there. Besides, these pancakes are really good today.”

“Uh huh” Nicole grunted, “even though I cooked them,” she added half-intelligibly through a mouthful of pancakes.

Laughing, Katie chucked her plate in the sink, took a despairing look at the twins, who were now pouring a second liberal helping of syrup over their pancakes, and placed her left hand over her less toned stomach, then came to, grabbed her bag and made to leave. Just as she reached the door, Adam manoeuvred his thoughts to the jeans she was wearing that day and converted some of the elastic flexibility pent-up in the fabric into kinetic energy, storing it in the air, and tightened the pair very slightly around her hips and cheeks, so that they outlined her form as accurately as possible without being uncomfortably tight. Knocking her keys to the floor with a flick of his thoughts, he caused her to bend over, pressing her rear into the seat of her now even less stretchy jeans, watching the seams stretch and letting his mind wander appropriately to better serve his benefactors.

As a fourth year student Adam’s lecture requirements were minimal, he was expected to do research, turn up to his tutorial groups and do what his Director of Studies asked, but otherwise he was free to work as he pleased. Frequently he went to Biology lectures, even though he’d gone through them all once before, to revise something that was relevant to an upcoming project, and that morning he was intending to revisit mitochondrial replication, despite the fact that he had no interest whatsoever in the course content. The lecturer for that subject was a rarity among the Cambridge dons, first she was a woman, secondly she was young (late twenties was the typical estimate). Andrea Shale had been a child prodigy, graduating with her third top-class degree at 19; she had then continued to accumulate two doctorates and a post in the Cambridge Biology department, soon becoming one of the most sought after supervisors and lecturers for both her brilliant mind and her talent as a teacher. If it were not for her unusual mental acuity there might have been aspersions cast on how she had risen so high so fast, because, to put it in the vernacular, she was a bombshell. Strawberry-blonde hair that she kept cropped short, large blue eyes, pouty lips invariably painted a deep ruby-red, a stunning body: large breasts; tapered and toned waist; hips that flared violently outwards; and long legs accentuated by her most common choice of tall stiletto heels. She dressed demurely and professionally in every class she taught, but it did nothing to detract from her allure, and more than a few of her students had missed the content of entire lectures when their minds had drifted.

In spite of his preferences Adam had always thought her very attractive, especially her rear, which thanks to her unusually wide hips bordered on the voluptuous. Last year he had the pleasure of being her tutee in his Neuroscience course, and as it was a relatively rarefied discipline he had been supervised alone. It had been during the Michaelmas and Lent terms (which spanned late September to early December and then mid-January to early April) and as the cold had set in he had watched with increasing intent the small changes that her “Winter Weight” had caused. As expected her posterior had been the most affected, increasing slightly and developing a jiggle that was exaggerated by her wide hips and stiletto heels. Her breasts too had gained some heft, Adam recalled vividly one of the supervisions shortly after Christmas, during which he suspected she might have overindulged more than she was accustomed to, when they had had to meet in a supervision room with the heating on full blast. She had become so hot in her jacket, and as there was no one but Adam there, she had removed it and even undone the top button of her blouse. Adam had been able to see her breasts pushing against the blouse, spilling out of her bra, he had even suspected that her stomach had been pushing against the confines of her skirt. Of course, as the weather warmed she’d lost the weight, such was the way of things, but there had been nothing that Adam could do about it but hope that, as she was getting older, perhaps her body was less able to burn off her indulgences, so maybe, eventually, she might gain something more permanent. Nothing he could do that is, until now.

Adam took a seat at the back of the hall even though he had arrived a quarter of an hour early for the lecture, it was unseemly to take more optimal places from students that needed to pass these courses, and looked down on his subject for the morning. She was dressed in a long black skirt, obscuring her legs completely, her white blouse and long sleeve black jacket ably detracted attention from her chest, and were formless enough to disguise her slender waist and flaring hips. He had often marvelled at her ability to mask her beauty, particularly when so many women spent their lives trying to do the opposite, although, that said, she frequently wore makeup to her lectures. The first thing Adam had to do, obviously, was adjust her wardrobe. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure what would happen when he started altering reality in front of people’s eyes, and he was very aware that something would most probably go very wrong. Nevertheless, he started to shrink the blouse, tightening it across her body: the formerly loose material wrapped itself around her waist, outlining her every contour, and cupped each of her breasts, fitting as tightly as a second bra. Then Adam tightened the skirt, moulding it to the outline of her rear, though ensuring to leave enough space for her to be able to walk without it riding up. Watching her carefully, Adam waited for Andrea to notice, to panic, to stand up and accuse him of witchcraft. As a minute passed by he let out a sigh of relief, whether because she was preoccupied or whether she simply didn’t know something had changed, all Andrea had done was tug unconsciously at her dress. To rid her of the jacket, Adam turned up the heat, or rather her heat, by sending appropriate chemical signals to her hypothalamus he naturally raised her body temperature, and watched as he saw the energy radiating from her increase little by little. Soon after, she removed the jacket, looking slightly red in the face, and laid it across the desk that sat in front of the blackboard, mission accomplished Adam cooled her down, leaving her a few degrees warmer than she would otherwise have been to ensure that she didn’t try and put the jacket back on. Now that his canvas was suitably prepared, Adam set to work.

He started slowly, gently augmenting her bust millimetre by millimetre, watching as they swelled against the confines of her blouse, and as flesh started to bulge out of the sides of her bra. Stopping after what he estimated to be a cup size, Adam waited for something to happen, but there was nothing, except for a now even more pronounced bounce in her step that was mesmerising several students in the front row. Gaining confidence, Adam turned his focus to her already generous rear, starting by converting excess muscle into fat. The effect was immediate: her rear, which while large had always been firm, jiggled as she walked and swayed hypnotically as she turned left and right while her hand trawled along the blackboard. Adam watched as at his bidding it swelled jutting outwards to form a sizeable shelf several inches deep, and her hips widened with additional layers to allow her behind to spread. Satisfied with the results, and the complete ignorance of his classmates, Adam turned his attention to the greatest offender to his sensibilities. Whether by excessive exercise, dieting or natural genes Andrea’s waist had always been taut and toned, and with her blouse now pressed against it Adam could make out the slight definition of her abs, and even a few ribs. A quick half-centimetre of nascent fat along her torso remedied that problem, then he began more refined sculpting: he pored weight into her stomach, filling it evenly and gently until a quarter-inch of bare flesh hung over the edge of her constricting skirt, glinting strangely in the lecture hall lights; while maintaining much of the hourglass shape, he added weight to the circumference of her waist at the cusp of the skirt, until flesh spilled out around its edge to create the coveted muffin top. In the interest of proportions, he also broadened her thighs, and although he could not see them in the conventional sense, he could see their new form’s energy. Adam widened them until the tops just touched so that clothes she wore would brush against each other as she walked, a constant reminder of their presence. Satisfied that his work was complete, as far as Andrea was concerned, Adam spent the remaining 20 minutes of the lecture adding little bits here and there to the girls in the hall sat nearest to him. One found their taut stomach, proudly on display in a very tight tube top, melt away so that a small lip of fat bubbled over the edge of her jeans; another found their breasts oozing out of the confines of her shirt, pressing the fabric taut until the top button exploded with an inaudible snap and flew down the aisles; yet another experienced a strange dichotomy as the hard wooden bench became more comfortable, but her chinos began to dig into her waist, the result of course of additional pounds rounding out her formerly perky rear. And while Adam enjoyed all of this, two other thoughts kept a metaphorical smile in his mind: one was the indescribable sight of Andrea Shale, beauty queen of the Science Department, bouncing and wiggling and jiggling along the platform, knocking her enlarged breasts as she tried to point out diagrams on the board, erasing small chunks of text with her quivering behind as she turned to face the hall; the other was just how much more there was still to do.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 03, 2012 5:00 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter II

It had been a little over a week since Adam’s life had taken a rather dramatic change in the form of becoming omnipotent. After flexing his newfound powers the first day, he had since been much more restrained, particularly in view of the fact that a room of over 150 people had been oblivious to their lecturer expanding before their eyes. Last night, however, he had discovered the reason, as the mysterious voices in his head eventually explained:

When we first began interfering in your world, people had a tendency to use their newfound abilities to garner power for themselves, and they used their gifts to effectively enslave those around them. We learned early on to avoid such people when choosing subjects and furthermore used some of our strength to reinforce beliefs that countered that of “magic”, religion, science, and the like so that your race has now reached a point where, unless a human is very open-minded, their brain simply will not process events it cannot explain. As a side note, though you would no doubt have eventually worked this out for yourself, you do not need to bind yourself so rigorously to the manipulation of the real world: your powers will act out your will within the structure of reality whenever possible, but if your fantasies dictate something extraordinary such feeble restrictions will be overcome.

While Adam hadn’t been using his powers extensively, he had continued to help three of his housemates reach their full potential, ensuring that the cupboards were fully stocked with foods designed to corrupt the best of diet intentions, increasing the quantity of food left in unattended pots, and sabotaging exercise attempts in one of a variety of means he had developed. The changes had, even in the short space of time thanks to these additional measures and the potency of the original ones, been marked on Katie. Katie, who, Adam knew, was easily susceptible to gaining weight, had gained at least half a pound every day, and this was accelerating as her metabolism slowed. The weight had spread itself evenly over her body: her behind jiggled in even the tightest of jeans and the button was slightly puckered against the additional deposits encasing her waist; her hips too had suffered, with enough fat accumulating for the majority of her skirts and trousers to dig in at the waist by half an inch; her breasts, which had always been large and rarely properly confined had, even with only a slight gain in mass, passed some critical point in Katie’s wardrobe where they strained buttons on blouses to frayed edges, stretched tops at the neck to reveal indecent levels of cleavage for everyday wear, and caused bras to dig in at the back to such an extent that in the house she frequently forwent them in favour of comfort. As Adam observed these small but promising changes, he watched her walk to the door, decked in running gear about to make her third attempt to go to for a jog in as many days, and this one, like the others, was already doomed to fail. Adam had begun by telekinetically entangling her trainers into knots that had taken a quarter of an hour to untie, vanished her sports bra out of existence and ensured that her running top was still slightly damp from yesterday’s wash, now as she opened the front door, he dealt his final card, a ferocious, bitingly cold wind howled through the door, while Adam simultaneously lowered Katie’s body temperature further. Letting out a yelp Katie slammed the door shut again and started trying to rub herself warm, moving over to the radiator, still shivering slightly. Satisfied, Adam walked over and offered her a mug of hot chocolate he’d just whipped up, which she took gratefully and drank greedily, at which point Adam allowed her body temperature to rise back to a comfortable level, elementary psychology really, punishment for trying to exercise, positive reinforcement for good choices, a little 1984 perhaps, but this wasn’t population control so much as a little game, that, if things got too serious, could always be easily reversed, or maybe partially reversed anyway.

Adam had had much more trouble, in some ways at least, with the twins. The twins were lazy by nature, at least where physical exercise was concerned, and they’d never had to diet in their life to maintain a perfect figure, nor, if truth were told, would they have had the willpower to in all likelihood. The only problem was that they each seemed to possess the metabolism of two people. His probing into their still identical figures informed him that they had gained less than half a pound. Half a pound in nine days. The thought of it still rankled slightly, but Adam reconciled himself with the fact that he didn’t want to interfere further. It was true that some said money won was a lot sweeter than money earned, but with his powers Adam felt that work, self-imposed limitations in fact, were the only way to stop himself from going over the top, and also the best way to continue the freshness and originality of his gifts. Still, he thought, the twins had not been a complete failure. Their gluttony had been a marvellous site to behold, not to mention a fantastic influence on Katie, and the exquisite pleasure on their faces whenever they ate was a fair consolation prize to their stalwart metabolisms obstinate refusal of the inevitable. Adam recalled one particularly memorable meal a few nights ago when he had set up a series of events that led to one of his roommates, Ken, being given a giant chocolate gateau, layered with dark, milk and white chocolate, decorated with whipped cream, icing sugar and fresh (though “inexplicably” out of season) strawberries, and with seams of fudge woven into the cake itself. So enormous, rich and sickly, this cake might have been expected to feed a group of fifteen or more people, but it was gone less than an hour after a sumptuous and excessive dinner, almost three quarters of it devoured by Nicole and Sarah’s gaping maws, and with their encouragement over half of the rest had gone to Katie.

Still, emboldened by the strange voices reassurances, Adam felt it was time to once again ply his craft, so grabbing a jacket he headed out the door, quickly checking as he left that Katie was once again safely discouraged from any thought of exercise. Not really sure where he was heading, but sure he’d know it when he got there, Adam walked along the street, every now and then seeing a woman in need a nudge in the right direction. A woman, redhead, attractive, slim, but with the beginnings of a belly just pressing gently into her top and an overall layer of softness that Adam’s powers allowed him to perceive was suddenly overcome, as she passed a bakery, by an intolerable hunger, and overwhelmed by intoxicating aroma of freshly baked donuts, layered in icing and sprinkled with sugar. Diving inside and queuing impatiently she order two dozen on an impulse, and receiving her order left the shop, two donuts in her free hand, large bites taken out of both, a sliver of icing on her chin and a fine layer of sugar gracing her lips. As donuts three and four followed one and two, the hand holding the paper bag unconsciously gave her trousers a little tug, and pulled her shirt back over the thin strip of exposed pink flesh. Falling into step behind a woman in her mid-thirties primly dressed in a long, grey business suit, Adam surreptitiously walked behind her and silently rectified the evident mistreatment her slender hips, well-toned legs and firm buttocks had clearly been subjected to: with every step she took, pounds of flesh and excess accumulated on her lower half, sculpting her previously “sculpted” behind into something meeting his more rarefied tastes. He watched, pleased, as her walk became increasingly constricted in the long, formerly loose skirt, and listened carefully as her slim thighs thickened, closing the gap between them until Adam could hear the soft brush of them scraping together. Finishing off his pear, Adam gently augmented her hips, widening them so that even when her skirt was at its most slack as she walked it was still stretched tight around her cheeks as they bounced rhythmically with every stride and so that, as her walk reached its peak, the skirt was pulled to the limit of its endurance before the strain lifted again. Adding a few pounds that would, by Adam’s will, resist all but the most prolonged and extreme efforts to remove them, he buried her lower stomach in a thin layer of adipose, just so that her tight skirt would have something to bite into. Pulling ahead of the woman, whose walk had considerably slowed during his ministrations, he took one quick glance at his handiwork, before turning into the Starbuck’s off Sidney Street, ordering a coffee and sitting down.

Adam took a few minutes to relax, simply enjoying the relative warmth and low hum of conversation that filled the room. However, every once in a while this peace was punctuated by infuriating cackling emanating somewhere behind him. Eventually becoming fed up, Adam turned to see three girls sat around a table, casting not particularly surreptitious glances at some of the other patrons, whispering among themselves and then devolving in to fits of laughter. Adam had to be the first to admit that even by his standards the girls were rather attractive, but it was clear that one among them was the Alpha: styled long brown hair, firm breasts pushing into and out of her large C-cup bra, a combination of tube top and miniskirt that displayed washboard abs and a good part of her ribcage. She clearly possessed other feminine curves, judging by the way her hips flared outwards, implying a rather narrow-necked hourglass figure, intrigued by now Adam flicked one of her cohort’s hands into their coffee, sending it flying just past their leader resulting, as desired, in her jumping up and showing Adam her toned, bronzed legs, somehow bare even in the cold, and as she turned to the side he glimpsed her backside, large enough to attract attention but toned and firm, a fact visible even from a distance. Adam’s immediate thought was to leave her alone, since someone like that was clearly obsessive about their image, and tragic as that might have been, it was not in his power to fix in five minutes and the psychological harm of finding a few extra pounds on her once lithe frame could well tip her over the edge. However, the furtive whispers intrigued him, so, getting up for another coffee and taking a seat nearer to their table he focused his mind and listened to their conversation.

“See that one over there, looks like someone’s painted her jeans over her enormous arse,” snickered one of the Alpha’s fawning sycophant’s, “you can even see the threads popping out. How disgusting!”

Following the three girls’ gaze, Adam saw that they were referring to a young waitress, slightly overweight and bottom-heavy, leaning over a table as she wiped it down.

“I can’t even imagine how you would get that fat without being a lazy, hopeless loser,” commented the Alpha snidely, “they’re a disgrace to the rest of us. It only takes a little willpower and effort to look good.”

Adam could bear to hear no more, this was not some delicate girl whose self-image and self-worth were equivalent, this was some stuck-up, arrogant travesty of a human being. Adam made his decision and, pleased that he was finding a positive use for his powers, began the slightly lengthy process of tapping into the Alpha’s mind. He discovered her name was Elise, and a quick look through her mind confirmed his worst suspicions. Her hatreds were entirely her own, no image abusive mother telling her she was fat, no childhood chubbiness leading to ridicule, she just found them repugnant, beneath her in every way: fat people were nothing short of a sub-race to her mind. That really couldn’t be allowed to stand. Maintaining a thin link to her mind, Adam noticed the three were preparing to leave, he quickly followed suit, casting a quick bit of magic to ensure that they did not notice he was following them.

Walking down the High Street, Adam waited for a vile thought to flick through Elise’s mind, and a middle aged woman whose broad hips were parting the people around her soon became victim number one. As Elise sneered in disgust at the woman, Adam responded by augmenting her hips. Of course, being the fashionable prima donna that she was, Elise’s clothes didn’t really have room to accommodate more flesh, so as a few extra pounds distributed themselves over her hips, they were squeezed by the lip of her miniskirt, so that her hips now bulged slightly out of her skirt, forcing the hem lower still on her frame. A teenage girl whose cute starter belly poked from underneath her top, which was itself so tight that it outlined the indent of her navel, was the next inspiration for Elise’s metamorphosis: As Elise thought to herself, “If she spent less time shoving food down her gullet and more time at the gym, maybe I wouldn’t have to look at that,” Adam responded by sending five more pounds bubbling over the waistband of her skirt so that her stylish belt-buckle was now partially obscured by her nascent belly, which quivered slightly with each footfall.

Not wanting to leave out Elise’s partners in crime Adam took stock of them as he followed: They flanked Elise, as if protecting her from the adoring masses, the one on the left was perhaps two inches shorter than Elise, had shoulder length blond hair, narrow shoulders, thin arms covered in a tight, low-necked top that hugged her frame. In particular he noticed that her breasts were quite enormous, clearly visible from behind as they spread out beyond her sweater. Her lower body was somewhat less impressive in black leather trousers: an uncommonly flat rear, stick like legs with little or no shape and hips that, despite her upper attributes, seemed remarkably underdeveloped. The girl on the right on the other hand gave a much improved view from behind, her large backside tucked snugly into blue jeans that stopped just below the knees and shook seductively as she employed the wiggle-grind walk so beloved of runway models. Her hips were wide yet shapely, and her legs tapered strikingly. Where this girl was lacking was up top, while her hair, jet black, was stylishly set and her clothing made much out of little, her breasts were unimpressive and her body above the waist almost looked like a rectangle. Now that he had considered all three of the girls side-by-side Adam was struck by the pattern, the two girls on the sides, one top-heavy one bottom-, and in the middle Elise possessing attributes of both, the balance of one complementing the other raising her status to leader of the group. The only question Adam had now was, enhance or reverse?

Unable to decide, Adam took out a coin, flipped it and got his answer: enhance. Smiling slightly Adam focused his mind on the two lackeys and worked his magic: when either of them had an ugly thought or said an ugly thing about someone else’s shape or size they would gain three to five pounds, the girl on the left would gain them on and above her waist, the girl on the right on and below her waist. When Elise had such a thought she would gain all over her body, with double emphasis on her belly. As an afterthought Adam added that whenever the thought was inspired by or a response to Elise, that she would mirror their gains for her troubles.

Satisfied by what he’d set in motion, he decided to play the devil and subject them to temptation. Spotting a suitably chubby young woman ahead of them, Adam temporarily shrank the girls clothes so that her every excess screamed its presence, cast a spell so that he could, at will, observe the girls from either behind or in front, and waited for the results.

Elise was the first to notice her, and within moments Adam was treated to her stomach swelling still further over her belt and her behind grew gently, lifting her skirt ever higher, revealing her thickening thighs. Her breasts gained some ground as well, though remained shapely, and her arms lost their tone and developed the slightest jiggle to them. Tapping her friends on the shoulder and pointing the girl’s direction she brought them in on the joke, sealing their fate. The girl on the right was the first to go and Adam watched as her tight blue jeans became tighter over the balloon behind her, and could, with his refined hearing, catch the faintest sound of seams straining as her legs enjoyed their share. Her hips were not left out either, slight lips of fat arising over the edges of her jeans, while the girl unconsciously tugged at her front where her flat stomach was slowly changing into a more curved form. As this growth ended, Elise’s began again in sympathy to her friend’s, all of this spurt likewise below the waist. Elise, however, did not possess the wide hips necessary to evenly distribute the weight, so, lacking any direction, the weight accumulated where it would have done naturally, on her behind. Her hips almost unchanged, likewise her thighs (though they crept slightly closer together), the only place for the gain to go was her belly and her butt. It started at her stomach, the weight distributing itself evenly over the upper and lower belly, the beginnings of a Buddha-belly, the lower fold now obscuring almost all of her belt buckle and quickly spreading over the sides. But still, the majority of this gain went below and her butt, unable to spread sideways due to the narrowness of her hips had little choice but to grow outwards until the very bottom of her cheeks poked out from underneath her skirt, already having pushed passed the confines of her underwear. The final friend, meanwhile, was undergoing her own transformation, and Adam was half-intrigued and half-annoyed that, by letting the weight distribute itself as it would have done naturally, if only specifying that it be waist and above, he had somewhat played into the girl's hands, since her predisposition towards her breasts was stronger than Adam had imagined. Even with his enhanced sight he could discern no change to her waist, her arms, her face, everything went right to her chest, still, Adam had to admit, it was quite good to watch.

What Adam knew to be 4.5lbs quickly accumulated on her already impressive cleavage and before too long the excess flesh began to spill out her bra, which had already been bordering on indecently overfilled, and thence to freedom as it pushed ever so slightly out of the top, stretching the shirt and causing several boys going past them to walk headlong into a lamppost. Not quite content to let the girl have everything her own way, Adam snapped her bra, making it loud enough so that everyone in the vicinity looked in her direction, and watched her squirm uncomfortably as her cheeks reddened under the stares her now unrestricted pair was attracting and could see in her movements the effect their bouncing, jiggling and jumping was having on her gait. Turning his attention, at last, to Elise, he watched as her upper gain took hold, and probably not in a way to her liking. Inevitably over half of the gain went to her chest, which bulged outwards, still too small and well-supported to sag, pressing against her bra. A small amount made its way to her arms, which lost a little definition, but the remainder further augmented the stomach that Adam had now spent so long cultivating into the beginnings of a real belly, which now pooched out just enough to cause small wrinkles at the lip of her tank top and spilled unflatteringly over the lip of her belt, forcing more flesh to the sides and drawing surreptitious glances from passers-by and eliciting one comment from an old lady who said quietly to herself, “A young girl like that needs to recognise she’s not as small as she used to be.” Leaving his spells in place, and satisfied with his work, Adam turned around and headed home, wondering what he was going to do about Nicole and Sarah.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 03, 2012 10:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter III

Adam sat on the sofa in the living room cum kitchen of the apartment he shared with two guys, Cheng and Kyle, and three girls, Katie and the twins Sarah and Nicole. Though lately, it had been more him sharing with three girls. Kyle’s uncle had died a week ago and he’d flown home to America and Cheng, well, Cheng was never there much anyway but with the increasingly imminent approach of coursework deadlines he had effectively moved into the University Library, moving to the CMS Library a short way away when the UL closed in the evenings. That suited Adam just fine.

At the moment Adam was watching the 12:00pm news on Channel 5, not the most reputable source of information but the proud home of Tracy Chambers, a stunningly beautiful mid-twenties reporter of questionable mental acuity. Indeed, it was repeatedly evident by her failure to stress appropriate words in news reports that she frequently had no real idea what she was saying but she still attracted a great many admirers and had brought viewing figures up to record highs. She had light blond hair, shoulder length, straight and carefully coiffed, a flawless face, cute nose, blue eyes, full lips, a large bust that complemented her thin waist. Her lower body was hidden beneath a desk, but her fandom had elicited a paparazzi following that resulted in a panoply of full figure photos for tabloids to print. These depicted her thin legs, graceful hips and tight buns. Adam had some issue with a news network peddling this kind of beauty-success relationship, a view they furthered by having Tracy forgo the usual suit jacket in favour of a tight buttoned shirt stretched thin over her large D-cup breasts.

In Adam’s opinion, if Five wanted a blonde bimbo to read the news then they could have one. As Tracy’s brow furrowed slightly in concentration as she tried to pronounce "Mahmoud Ahmadinejad", Adam’s furrowed and seconds later Tracy’s shoulder length blonde locks began to grow, reaching most way down her back. The sensible white bra that was invisible against the white of her shirt turned into a far more provocative black lace push-up number, for the sake of symmetry Adam changed her underwear as well, and the outline of her new piece showed clearly against the silk shirt. A moment later the top most two buttons on her shirt were undone as well. The scene set, Adam began to very slowly augment her chest, enlarging her shirt just enough that it didn’t rip (out of respect for the watershed mark). Imbuing her bra with a structural rigidity it could not otherwise possess, Adam watched as, like bread rising in an oven, her breasts overflowed the edges of the bra, pushing against the shirt. D, DD, E, F, Tracy’s breasts grew to preposterous dimensions on a girl of such a thin frame. Although completely oblivious to the changes befalling her, Tracy couldn’t help but lean further forward as her chest expanded. As her breasts reached the size of overfull Hs Adam stopped. He ensured that they would remain perky though bouncy for decades to come and tightened her shirt to its last limit, watching as the material around each button puckered and almost able to hear the creaking sound of the material stretching. Satisfied that he had done the breast-men of the world a great service, he sought help the ass-men as well, though in a less direct way that would provide fodder for tabloid journalists in the months to come. He redistributed her body chemistry so that any and all weight she gained would go straight to her already curvy behind and, to hurry along the progress, set her up with two months of increased hunger and heightened sweet-tooth. It would likely only be weeks before Tracy received a more profitable offer from a modelling firm or some such establishment, leaving Channel 5 to find a newscaster that could report the news.

As the news was wrapping up, Katie got back from her morning classes. Dumping her bag on the counter, she walked to the fridge, opened it, stood there for a few seconds and then slammed it shut in a fit of pique, grabbed her bag and went back to the door.

“Katie, what’s wrong?” Adam had a fair idea what the answer was already.

“Sarah and Nicole cleared the fridge, again!” was her irritated reply, “I thought I had left lettuce and tomatoes in there, evidently not. With their junk food habit it can’t have been the twins. I’m going to find some lunch.”

This was not entirely true, Adam had seen them that morning and vanished them, he wasn’t about to allow such bad habits in his house.

“Want me to come with?”

“Sure, we might as well do a shop or we’ll just have to go out again tonight.”

Setting off into the rather crisp November afternoon, Adam and Katie made their way towards the local supermarket.

As she walked through the doors, Katie was set upon by sudden cravings for sugar, carbohydrates and rich fried food. Stumbling briefly, her sudden appetite causing light-headedness, she caught herself and it felt to her as though two sides of her nature were battling for her soul, or at the very least her waistline:

“No, Katie!” her wiser half insisted, “Fruit, vegetables and rice cakes, nothing else. You’ve put on 12 pounds in three weeks and you’re not putting on anymore.”

“But I’m soooo hungry,” whined her devilish side, “And just a little chocolate couldn’t do any harm. Maybe with some ice cream. Oooh, apple pie à la mode would be good.”


“But we’ve been so good. Eating so little, resisting all those tempting treats strewn across the house. We deserve a reward.”

“We have not been good. Nicole and Sarah have derailed our diet at every turn. And we haven’t been to the gym or gone on a run in almost a month. We are getting fat and so we are getting healthy food, no arguments.”

“But look at the twins. We eat much less than they do, and they’re not fat, so how can we be fat? What harm could a little biscuit do?”

“This isn’t about Nicole and Sarah, this is about us.”

“Exactly, and we want food. Real food.”

“But we can’t,” Katie’s better nature said, without much conviction, “We’ll get fat again.”

“But the food is soooo yummy.”


“No buts, end of discussion, we’re getting what I want and that’s that.”

Katie waited for the rebuttal, waited for her sensible side to mount a spirited defence of all the hard work and discipline she’d put in to keeping her figure, but none was forthcoming. She frowned and put her hand on her stomach, feeling the unfamiliar bulge of new flesh spilling over the hem of her skirt, currently hidden beneath a bulky sweater. She reflected too that she was probably only days away from her butt being too large to fit comfortably into anything but skirts and sweats.

“I’m going to need to get new clothes,” she muttered to herself under her breath, before looking up to see Adam walking towards her with a trolley, “And the way I’m feeling, another trolley.”

Adam, who had been listening to the spirited exchange in Katie’s mind, was delighted. Katie had chosen food over her figure, and all it had taken was a few pounds, and once she forsook the last vestiges of guilt she associated with the food she wanted her potential, with Adam’s nurturing, would be explosive.

As they walked up and down the aisles Adam took delight in watching Katie add more and more food to the trolley. While she was giving in to her worst impulses, Adam was doing the same. He saw an attractive yummy mummy, young baby sitting happily in the trolley seat. Adam guessed she had only had the baby four or five months ago, vestiges of baby weight adorned her wide hips and her small belly was pressed tight against the fashionable sweat pants and exercise top she wore. In the blink of an eye, the tiny tummy began to swell until it became a veritable Buddha belly. It was devoid of definition and pillow-soft, swaying pendulously as she turned, and the formally snug top she wore was now stretched taut as a drum skin, a deep depression where her now cavernous navel resided. As she made to bend over to reach the bottom shelf, the glowing mother exhaled heavily, suddenly winded by the unexpected resistance as her stomach pressed hard into the top of her thighs.

A rather extroverted girl walking towards Adam in a pair of short-shorts and a top showcasing her seemingly endless cleavage suddenly found her belly bulging over the waistband and wrinkling the top, drawing eyes away from her chest to the very prominent belly.

Changed though he was, when Adam rounded the corner his jaw dropped clean through the floor. He even heard Katie gasp. The girl walking towards them from the other end of the aisle was unlike anything Adam had ever seen. She was extraordinarily beautiful: long straight black hair that fell past her shoulders, bright green eyes, and full lips framing a perfect smile. Her skin was smooth, a shade paler than normal but completely flawless. Her body was exquisite, even to Adam. It was somewhat hard to believe, Adam could see everything and all of it was natural, and yet every aspect of her figure looked like it had been designed and shaped by a person working from the very archetype of modern beauty standards. Large pert breasts, tight round behind, slender toned waist flaring briefly to devastating hips that dove back into long thin legs. What was even more surprising was how tasteful and restrained her dress was. Flat shoes, denim jeans, a black top that obscured the outline of her waist and a dark jacket that downplayed the size of her breasts, she wasn’t even wearing any make-up. There was something more though. An aura about her, if that was the right word, that exuded sexuality seemed to permeate the air around her. Adam was astounded but he still maintained the presence of mind to know that there were a few things he could do to make her yet more beautiful, though he was inclined to have her return to normal in a few hours.

At that instant she presented a truly perfect opportunity: the girl had chosen that moment to bend over to grab something from the bottom shelf and in doing so had presented Adam with an unmissable target. As the jeans stretched to accommodate her bowed position, Adam inflated her pert behind into a real bubble-butt, watching with glee as each cheek grew into the seat of her jeans, listening intently to the screeching of stitches. As she straightened up Adam looked in admiration at one of his best efforts, her arse was remarkable now. He had only added weight so her natural pertness remained but the dramatic increase in volume had created a mesmerizing bouncing mass of flesh that swayed hypnotically as she turned. Something wasn’t quite right though.

The girl’s eyebrows furrowed. She reached around behind her and felt her enlarged asset, poking and prodding her supple cheeks. It was almost as if she was aware of the changes, but that was impossible, in theory anyway. It was at that moment that Adam felt something strange. The girl had closed her eyes, one hand cupping her buttocks, and Adam watched in disbelief as her arse shrank back to its previous taut and toned size.

Adam stared, mouth agape. In spite of everything he had done in the last month, nothing had prepared him for what he had just seen. It was too late that he realised that the girl was staring right back at him. Worse still she was marching straight to him, a look on her face that could have curdled milk, a particular danger given the litres of the stuff lining the aisle. Adam froze. He was vaguely aware that Katie had wandered down the aisle with the trolley, filling it with full-fat milk and several pots of double cream when the girl grabbed him forcefully by the arm brought her face within an inch of his and growled through bared teeth.

“What did you just do?”

Adam reacted instinctively. An instant later the girl had vanished, transported…somewhere. Adam realised with dread that he had no idea where he had sent her. As he was beginning to panic, imagining terrifying scenarios of the poor girl reappearing 20,000 leagues under the sea or inches above an active volcano he felt a tapping on his shoulder. Reeling round he found himself once again face to face with the girl only this time she was smiling broadly.

“I didn’t know I could do that!” she exclaimed. “Come to think of it, how did you do that?”

“I don’t suppose feigning ignorance would work at this point?”

“No. I tell you what, if you explain to me how you did it, I’ll do the same.”

“I’m not sure I can,” Adam began hesitantly, “My abilities aren’t entirely my own.”

“Not entirely your… If I were to say to you, ‘Weird disembodied voices’ would that mean something to you?”

Astounded, Adam stammered, “Y-Y-Yes it would. You mean they visited you as well?”

“Yes, three days ago.”

“They visited me a little under a month ago. This is incredible, the odds of this must be infinitesimal.”

“Okay, slightly personal question: The voices told me to fulfil my fantasies, because it gave them energy or something, I didn’t really understand, but is that what you were doing when you…what exactly did you do?”

Adam felt himself turning red. “Well, yes actually. I’ve always been attracted to larger girls. I know it’s a little strange but usually no one notices the changes, so I’m a little out of my depth here. What about you?”

“Well, I’m living my fantasy. Three days ago I was a nobody. I was short, a little overweight, very plain. I wanted to be looked at, to have men want me and women envy me. I know, that must sound really vain but”

“There’s really no need to explain.”

“Thanks. My god, I don’t even know your name! What is wrong with me?”

“I’m Adam.”


“Well, it’s really good to meet you. Not having someone to talk to about all this was driving me nuts.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. What did you say about people not noticing when you use your abilities?”

“Well, as best I understand”

“Adam.” Katie’s voice reminded Adam, for the first time in some minutes, that they were standing in the middle of a crowded supermarket discussing supernatural abilities granted by mysterious other-dimensional beings.

“Ah, right. Look Zoe, I need to go right now, hang on a second.” A scrap of paper and a pen appeared in his hands, Zoe looked suitably impressed. He jotted down his number and gave it to her.

“Call me later. I’ll do what I can to explain the little I understand and it’d be really cool to be able to talk to someone else about all this.”

“I’ll do that, said Zoe before flashing Adam a dazzling smile and rounding the aisle, her re-toned butt swaying somewhat mockingly away from him.

Smiling to himself Adam returned to Katie’s side, delighted to find a cart full of nutritionally questionable but calorifically meritorious items. Taking the time to add a few things, like bread, that Katie’s cravings had neglected, they headed to the check out. Adam then took the opportunity to be both chivalrous and limit Katie’s opportunity for exercise by carrying all the shopping himself back to the flat, a feat achieved by a combination of magic and magically enhanced muscles. Zoe wasn’t the only one guilty of a little vanity.

Over the next few days a number of good things happened. Firstly, Katie’s decision to resign her tightest clothes to the back of the cupboard had been an unparalleled success. Adam’s original spell doubling Katie’s food intake had been effective even before she had submitted to her sweet-tooth but now the changes were so rapid Adam frequently observed weight gain between breakfast and dinner on the same day. Katie was showing a penchant for storing weight on her hips. Already the largest part of her before she gave in to every impulse and craving they now spilt over even her loosest clothes to form very becoming love-handles. In her tighter apparel the extra adipose accumulating on her growing belly caused the waistband to bow under its weight. Around the Music Faculty the sight of Katie in jeans was causing an increasing stir. Adam had been delighted to hear from a member of the orchestra that just that morning practice had ground to a complete halt when Katie had walked through the hall in a tight pair of jeans and tastefully chosen jumper which had lead to half the instrumentalists and the conductor staring slack-jawed at the undulating cheeks that shimmied past them. The only downside, if there was one, was that now Katie was in her eating stride there was less food around for Sarah and Nicole. However after a month of watching them stuff themselves silly with every unhealthy food imaginable and observing a gain of barely two pounds Adam had decided that he was going to have to intervene more directly, a matter he had been giving significant thought to. The other thing that was better than he’d ever hoped was Zoe. Since their improbable meeting they had talked on several occasions. Zoe, who was an art student and did not possess the scientific background that Adam had, had been delighted to discover the finer effects her abilities could have on her body and had been particularly interested when Adam had mentioned mind-reading, though Adam was not sure why.

One thing that had changed dramatically was his workload. It had been a fortnight since he had done any real work since he had finished his first draft of his dissertation two months ahead of schedule and handed in what could only be described as a ground-breaking piece of research to his supervisor who had since contacted to praise his unbelievable insights and said it was all but done. He was idly working now on a complete mapping of the human brain, not for wider publication but his own use in his private exploits and wondering what he was going to do when the phone rang.

“Hi Adam, it’s Zoe. Can you get to Parker’s Piece, like ASAP?”

“Sure, why?”

“Easier to explain when you get here, so get here now!” And with that she hung-up. Knowing it would amuse Zoe and not really feeling like walking Adam focused, remotely scanned Parker’s Piece for Zoe and teleported next to her.

“Hello,” said Adam.

“Whoa! Don’t do that!” exclaimed Zoe, smiling broadly.

“So, why am I here?”

Rather than answer, Zoe just pointed. Adam understood immediately. A short ways across from them was a small crowd of people gathered around two groups, one comprised of six girls in what appeared to be cheerleading outfits and the other a group of six girls and six boys in the Cambridge colours who Adam vaguely recognised as members of the Cambridge cheer squad.

A quick scan through the minds of those involved explained the situation and Adam reflected briefly that reading minds was becoming easier with practice. The six girls in the cheerleading outfits were visiting from America, “showing Britain how cheerleading was done”, and were doing a joint demonstration with some of the members of the Cambridge cheer squad. All was smiles and international cooperation, except for the fact that of course it was not.

Cheerleading was not big in Britain and took on a very different form in Cambridge than the Americans were used to. The members were more of a gymnastics group than a cheer squad and the group had none of the stigma of shallowness or prestige of popularity associated with it in America. The American girls were plainly aware of this and looked on the British boys and girls with hollow smiles barely concealing a seething mass of contempt.

“What I want you to do is fatten the Americans then I’ll go over and make them feel all the worse. I’ve been practicing reading minds and I really like listening to people’s reactions to my body.”

A part of Adam was excited. It was a wonderful opportunity for some top quality use of his powers. However a tiny voice in the back of his mind thought it was a little bit creepy. Then again he’d been given these powers to fulfil his fantasies and this really was too good an opportunity to miss. Moreover, he would be contributing to Zoe’s fantasy as well, so it was like a two-for-one special.

He quickly scanned through the girls’ minds and identified the leader in the group. Electing to leave her till last, he picked one of the others at random and delved deeper into her mind.

Adam knew what he was looking for. And he knew he would find it sooner or later. Every girl has body image issues, big or small, and a girl like this was bound to have some pretty serious insecurities, insecurities that he could play off and would make Zoe’s fantasy all the more real. It didn’t take long to find, and Adam was somewhat disappointed that it was such a cliché: she didn’t like her “big ass”. Well Adam liked it bigger. Knowing that he wouldn’t have a lot of time to work he set about the task quicker than he otherwise would have done. A quick bit of magic and he could see the young girl from behind, her pesky skirt rendered invisible to his eyes, and he set about sculpting a real ghetto booty. As the pounds poured into the girl under his careful instruction her arse shot backwards, creating a swiftly swelling shelf behind her. Its weight and size quickly overpowered the skimpy underwear she was wearing, rapidly transforming it into a thong, so that her cheeks pressed against the top of her thighs. Then of course it started to spread. As weight accumulated itself on her hips it provided structural support for her growing cheeks as they spread further and further outwards until her dress was raised to almost horizontal. Satisfied that the girl now had a lower half fitting a woman 50lbs heavier he lengthened her skirt to protect her decency and moved onto cheerleader number two.

Number two’s insecurities stemmed from actually being in the cheerleading squad. While the other five were buxom, curvaceous and thin, she was just thin. It wasn’t a bad thing in some respects, it was often useful on squad to have a lighter member and she never had to worry about the strength of her bras or whether or not the next heavy landing would send her breasts catapulting into her face. Adam didn’t really think it was fair that this girl was excluded from such considerations, plus people’s wishes never work exactly how they think. A moment later the tiny B cups were pressing tightly into her sports bra. As they inflated further the rigid material forced her growing breasts to rise out of the top like bread as well as creeping out of the sides as the bra was stretched away from her skin, the strap biting angrily into her back. It was as the breasts passed DD that the girl began to really struggle: The relentless grasp of her bra felt like iron bands slowly tightening around her, pressing in her sides and compressing her lungs; The amount of flesh oozing out of her bra was pressing into and out of her uniform’s top; The weight too was beginning to tell. Unaccustomed to breasts that were now entering the realm of full E cup the poor girl was, apparently unconsciously, leaning further and further forward, a pained expression on her face. At last the bra snapped, relief washing over the girl’s face, and her breasts now proudly unrestrained and bordering on a size F. Satisfied that while it might not be the worst thing ever to befall the girl she did at least look ridiculous, he moved on to his next victim.

Adam already knew what he wanted to do to number 3. She had modified her uniform somewhat so that it showed several extra inches of bare midriff. Adam couldn’t help but feel that this was a lot of dead space begging to be filled. Not wanting to waste too much time he added the weight quickly and all to her middle. Over the past weeks he had grown used to seeing stomachs stuffed taut with food but now he was crafting a belly. It surged forward, forming a soft, jiggling dome in front of her that immediately began to pooch over the hem of her skirt. It grew further and further until her sizeable breasts were held aloft and the waistband of her skirt had buckled under the pressure causing the whole skirt to shimmy a few centimetres down, revealing pink satin panties still glued to her hips. The finished product was something Adam was rather proud of, a jiggling mass of flesh that swayed and sloshed as the girl breathed, protruding in front of her, almost in line with her breasts. Wanting to be sure his handiwork would be appreciated he cast another spell so that any clothes she bought would shrink in the first wash so that there were always several inches of wobbling flesh poking through.

The next cheerleader was largely uninteresting. She was so intellectually lacking that she had barely given thought to an existence where she was not thin and pretty and popular, let alone got around to comparing herself to other people. Not only was such a vapid human being a little depressing to listen to she was also unlikely to satisfy Zoe’s fantasies either. Feeling somewhat disaffected Adam had her gain 30lbs in two tenths of a second and decided to leave it at that. As he surveyed the damage to her figure he found that it was at least well-distributed. Her thighs had thickened considerably, touching as she stood and brushing together as she moved, her butt had gained a violent jiggle and her belly had begun to poke over the waistband of her skirt. Her face had rounded some, her jaw line had softened and her cheeks were slightly rounder and her arms too had lost some of their firmness. Moderately pleased but still mostly disinterested Adam turned his attention to the last lackey.

The last girl was the lightest on the squad, even before Adam had begun working his magic, a feat she achieved in spite of C cup breasts and well-sized heart-shaped bum by being only 4’ 5”. Her lightness earned her a prized position, the top of the pyramid. The girl treasured the position a great deal but Adam couldn’t help but feel it didn’t really suit her shape. He began by widening the girl’s hips. Inches and inches rolled onto and then over her hips as her trim waist joined in to form love-handles that hung seamlessly down to the flare of her hips. The weight continued to pile, a small amount of fat accumulating around her torso until it drew level with the outermost point of her unchanged breasts. Looking at her in profile he added weight to her lower belly until it folded deep over her skirt and more weight to her back until there was a complete ring of fat folded over her lower body. The girl was now, roughly, triangle shaped, at least from the waist up, making her a fitting top to the pyramid. Assuming of course that she could still get to the top. The American team, now in ruins, had only one member left who still fit the cheerleading shape ideal. It was with some anticipation that Adam at last delved into the mind of the team captain, whose name he happened to discover was Amy. What he saw brought a huge smile to his face.

Now here, he thought, was someone worthy of his time. Amy was actually living her nightmare. Over the last month her desires for greasy fried food and sugary treats had become harder and harder to ignore and the consequences had manifested themselves in 6 extra pounds. 6lbs on a cheerleading captain was a cardinal sin. It was worse: it would be grounds for a takeover from one of the other girls. So far Amy had been carefully concealing her gain, which had at least settled away from her still taut and toned stomach, but she knew that if her eating continued she would be, to put it lightly, screwed. To prevent this, she had been on a diet for over a week and had not lost a single pound. She was constantly hungry. She had frequently fantasised about lavish meals and when she slept she dreamt of food. Adam knew exactly what he wanted to do. He focused briefly and soon Amy was sound asleep, dreaming deeply yet still standing up. With little effort Adam was in her dream, invisible and all-seeing, and had quickly reshaped it to an empty white-walled room where the girl was sat at a small white table. Adam had chosen to enter the girl’s dreams for two reasons. Firstly because the passage of time in a dream bears no relation to the passage of time in the real world, so he could spend as long as he wanted in her mind. Secondly, in a dream the mind is more open to the impossible; even when the subject is unaware they are dreaming.

Amy was sitting in the chair, looking around her strange white room wearing a somewhat bemused expression, when all of a sudden a cheeseburger the size of her palm appeared in front of her. The burger was enormous, at least four pounds of meat, topped with a thick layer of gooey melted cheese, then rashers of bacon, glistening with a patina of grease, then a layer of fried onions all topped with liberal lashings of mustard and tomato relish. A broad grin spread across Amy’s face. She looked around furtively, searching for anyone who might see what she was about to do. Adam smiled. With the slightest hint of hesitation she picked up the burger, grasping it in both hands, and took as large a bite as she could. Everything about the burger was perfect, inevitable really since Adam had created it. For the briefest of moments Amy’s face was frozen in a state of beatific joy, a narrow rivulet of juice making its way down her chin, then the hunger took over. She attacked the burger with ferocity more in common with a pack of starving hyenas. Tearing into the meat, flecks of juice and sauce spattered over the pristine white table and her immaculate cheerleading uniform, she seemed to completely lose track of where she was and even what she was doing. As the last bite disappeared into her gaping maw she snapped out of her reverie, shaking her head. Her stomach growled its discontent, demanding more food. She looked down, shock visible on her face as she noticed the slight swell of her stomach into her uniform. She prodded her swollen tummy experimentally, there still seemed to be plenty of give, maybe she wasn’t full just yet. She was just about to look around for more food when she saw that the plate that she had just cleared of the burger was now piled high with a mountain of chips. Next to it sat another plate, this one piled high with onion rings, and another plate on the other side with a tower of nachos covered in cheese. Amy was somewhat taken aback at the sudden appearance of so much food, more food than she had ever dreamed of eating. She couldn’t eat this. It was at this point that she realised that, in her awestruck state, she had been holding her breath. Breathing in deeply, the intoxicating aroma of the food set out before her quickly permeated every fibre of her being. It smelled…incredible. Clearly a few chips couldn’t hurt and she was still hungry, even though a voice in the back of her mind said that was inconceivable after the burger she had eaten. She grabbed a mid-sized handful of chips, brought them slowly to her mouth. Past her lips. Past her teeth. Then she tasted it. The chips were better than any she’d ever had, anything she’d ever imagined. Crisp outside, light inside and a perfect blend of flavours. The tiny part of her brain that still recognised that something was not quite right vanished into the furthest recesses of her mind as the cavernous hunger that had been gnawing at her for so many weeks reared its head and roared, her stomach growling louder than she had ever heard it, and just like that Amy was lost. Her hands dove into the three piles indiscriminately, grabbing fistfuls of whichever food her fingers were in reach of before shovelling it quickly into her waiting mouth. Amy’s mouth was never empty, no sooner had she swallowed than another handful was being chewed. If this had not been a dream there was a very real possibility (if Amy had eaten in the same manner) that she would have suffocated. As Amy reached the last of the food in front of her she gradually slowed down until at last just a single onion ring sat in front of her. She picked it up, holding it between finger and thumb, and flicked it through the air into her gaping jaws, swallowing it whole. Seeming satisfied with herself she sucked the remaining grease and cheese from her fingers and lay back in her chair, both hands gently patting her engorged stomach. Adam marvelled at the sight. No longer bound by the restrictions of reality he had managed to feed to a girl as much as half her weight in food. Amy’s stomach was stretched to an inconceivable distance, giving a new meaning to the term “food baby”. Her stomach, which was taut as a drum, had been flush with her ribs when she started but now sat heavily in her lap, several inches along her thighs, all pretence of shape completely forgotten under the weight of food sitting in her belly. An uncomfortable rumble emanated from her stomach and Amy clutched tightly against it only to experience a rather unusual sensation. It felt as though it was deflating. It shrank further and further until it was barely rounded. Indeed it was back to the size it had been before she had begun eating but something was not quite right. Almost unconsciously Amy poked her previously swollen middle. With minimal effort she found she could bury her finger past the first joint in fat.

Panic filled her eyes as she continued to poke and prod the newly formed adipose that now pressed lightly into her uniform, causing it to bow slightly. It took her panic filled mind several minutes to make a rather worrying realisation: She had been gaining weight for several weeks and none of it had ever settled around her waist… Sure enough a quick inspection confirmed her worst fears. She hadn’t noticed it at first but she was sitting higher in the seat. She stood up anxiously, craning her neck to try and see her engorged backside while her hands evaluated the damage for themselves. Her rump, already softer than she would have liked after her previous excesses, had swelled alarmingly. Her still pert cheeks formed a sizeable shelf that extended several inches beyond her back. Ghetto booty. The words flitted around her mind, echoing insults she herself had hurled at girls with “too much junk in the trunk”. Her hips were wider too and as she ran her hands across them she was horrified to discover that the moving flesh on her hips caused ripples in her thighs. Turning her attention upwards she was at least pleased to discover that her breasts had taken a slice. Hefting them in her hands she was surprised by their new weight, she appeared to have gone up at least a cup size.

“Well,” Amy thought drily, “At least I’m an hourglass and not an apple.”

Then something happened that Amy was completely unprepared for. There was a flash of light, she found herself sitting back in her chair and an enormous chocolate truffle torte was sitting proudly on the table. The dark rich chocolate was in stark contrast with the table, again turned pure white and gleaming clean, and she licked her lips in anticipation even as the rational part of her mind shouted feebly that she was fat. Her hunger quickly won out and she was just about to attack the cake when a huge bowl appeared next to the cake filled with large scoops of rich vanilla ice cream and a jug materialised filled with dark, thick and sickly chocolate sauce. If anything was stronger than her love of greasy and fried foods it was her sweet tooth. The cake was perfect, warm and light and fluffy, with layers of chocolate woven in. The cold ice cream was in perfect balance and the chocolate sauce just augmented the entire meal. Using the spoon that had mysteriously appeared in her hand she devoured everything in front of her, occasional errant lines of chocolate sauce fleeing from her all-consuming mouth only to be recaptured by her tongue. As the last spoon of cake and ice cream disappeared Amy reached over and grabbed the jug of chocolate sauce. It was still half-full. Tipping back her head she raised the jug to her black and white stained lips and proceeded to down the remainder. As the last dregs trickled down her throat Amy straightened up in her chair only to be confronted by an entirely new culinary delight, the strange thing was she had no idea what it was. It looked somewhat like a pie. It was the size of a dustbin lid and about four inches deep and the top was covered in whipped cream and sliced bananas. Unable to resist, Amy took the spoon and scraped off a thin layer of whipped cream, placed it delicately in her mouth and licked it clean. Now enthralled she quickly sunk her spoon deep into the pie only to discover that under the whipped cream was a layer of soft caramel and another layer of slightly harder toffee before she hit the pie base. Amy loved toffee. She ate the pie as though she hadn’t eaten in days. Not a crumb escaped her notice and she had soon finished every last one in a speed that left Adam simply astounded. Her stomach was, if anything, more swollen that it had been before and, just as before, her head was lolling backwards in a sugar stupor while her hands lay gently on her bulbous belly. She felt the strange deflating sensation again and immediately woke up. Panicked by the thought of gaining still more weight Amy vainly clutched at her stomach, repulsed as she felt her fingers sink through still more fat accumulating round her waist. Conscious of it this time Amy could actually feel her bum getting fatter, feel herself rising slowly as it jutted outwards and feel it spreading across the chair as her hips widened. She fidgeted in her chair as her broadening thighs and bulging buttocks bunched her too small underwear. She felt an increasing pain across her back as a sudden explosive growth spurt hit her chest and the already restrictive sports bra became so tight that she was forced to awkwardly reach behind her and unsnap it, realising with further terror that her arms jiggled as she struggled with the clasp. Released from their fabric prison her breasts sprang forward and downwards coming to rest barely an inch away from her now quite protuberant pot-belly. If there was any consolation it was that her newly acquired and very impressive cleavage would keep people’s eyes away from the tummy bulge hanging over her waistband. Amy jumped up, already loathing the unfamiliar feeling of her entire body wobbling and dismayed by the realisation that her thighs were tightly pressed together, and while her mind revolted at the sight and feel of everything that had happened she felt the gnawing, irrepressible hunger return stronger than she had ever known. It was Adam’s final brushstroke, a ravenous hunger that would always return, and return at the worst possible moments, like in front of the dessert cart or at the doors to an all-you-can-eat buffet. The hunger was not so strong as to be irresistible, all that took was will-power, but it would be harder to resist the more you gave in to any particular craving. There was absolutely nothing stopping Amy from dieting down to her original weight, only her own eating. With no warning the perfect white floor opened up to empty black and Amy let out a soundless scream as she fell down through the dark while Adam made everything she had dreamt a reality.

Amy jerked awake where she stood and looked down. She could see her enormous EE cup breasts and nothing else. Her left hand massaged her stomach, her mind registering shock and revulsion at the soft, squishy mass pooching over her waistband while her right hand kneaded the pliable flesh adorning her rump. In spite of the fact that her fat appalled her Amy gave no thought to where it had come from only to how she was going to get rid of it. As that thought passed through her mind her nostrils flared, suddenly assaulted by the smell of the McDonald’s food that had mysteriously appeared behind her. She turned round, seeing most of her team devouring their meal, and desperately tried to resist the temptation to eat it. She reminded herself of her diet, that her clothes didn’t fit, that her thighs rubbed together and the way her behind swung like a pendulum every time she performed one of her routines. In the end though the sight of her teammates gorging themselves on burgers and chips and ice cream proved too much for her. As she reached forward and took her burger, the first of what she feared would be many, Zoe looked across at Adam, awe etched on her face that quickly turned to a mischievous grin as she walked, normally and yet somehow seductively, over to the group.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 04, 2012 6:48 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter IV

It had been two weeks since the events at Parker’s Piece and the experience inside Amy’s head had given Adam the perfect solution for Nicole and Sarah’s intransigent metabolisms. Every night since he had created a dream world and brought both the twins into a food-orientated fantasy. Afterwards he wiped their memories of all but the abundance of food and the joy of eating and made a portion of the calories they had envisioned real, frequently in excess of 15000 on top of their daily consumption. Tonight was Adam’s adaptation of Hansel and Gretel which saw Nicole and Sarah and a dream incarnation of Katie walking side-by-side down a dirt path through dense forest. As he often did, Adam took the time to appreciate how far the twins had come in just a fortnight, progress that was particularly in evidence as the twins walked down the track, enjoying the warm sunshine. As in waking life, the twins were dressed alike. Today they were wearing a light pink blouse that fit well but snugly over their breasts, which had grown slightly but remained firm and was wrapped taut over their stomachs which had gained a lion’s share of the weight and gone from fractionally concave to bulging outwards into their tops. The fact that the twins hadn’t seriously exercised in years meant that their muscle tone had been non-existent to begin with and as a result their stomachs bounced with every footfall. The same was also true of their arms, which had gained a small amount of extra flesh, enough that the blouse sleeves were slightly strained, the tight fabric in direct contrast to the jiggle of their arms. Adorning each of their lower halves was a pair of white knee-length Capri pants which Adam had created because the white fabric outlined every bump and crease of the twins’ increasingly bulbous bubble-butts. While formerly small and defined each girl’s behind had bulged backwards, the extra mass straining the seams in the seat of the jeans and forming creases at the pockets. With every step they sent ripples undulating through the pliable flesh, their wobbling backsides rhythmically bouncing in every direction. Their thighs too had acquired a jiggle since though they were not significantly thicker they were much softer as the low level of muscle tone the girls’ infrequent trips to the gym, which had always involved a treadmill, and walking to their lectures had given them had evaporated under the deluge of food and lethargy. Adam was glad that he had cast a spell to ensure that the twins gained identically, it would have been so strange if suddenly they had started to look different.

The Katie that was walking alongside them on the other hand was a very different matter. This Katie was thinner and better toned than either Nicole or Sarah had ever known her, all part of Adam’s story. The three girls walked for what seemed like hours, the twins becoming increasingly exhausted in the growing heat. Without warning the endless trees gave way to a large clearing and sitting, incongruously, in the middle of this clearing was a gingerbread cottage. Nicole and Sarah’s eyes lit up and they ran, soft adipose in exaggerated motion, to the house where Sarah began to devour the gingerbread siding and Nicole ripped off part of the candy-cane gutters. While Sarah and Nicole glutted themselves on the building Katie was knocking on the front door. Almost immediately the door opened, revealing a wizened old woman covered in a thick shawl and looking every part of one hundred years old.

“Hello?” Even her voice sounded decrepit.

“Good afternoon. I’m really sorry to bother you but we seem to be lost. We’ve been walking for hours and, as my companions are rather rudely demonstrating, we need to get to the nearest town and find some food and somewhere to stay. Could you tell us which way to go?” asked Katie.

“Oh my, you poor dears. Please, please come inside and have something to eat.”

“That’s very kind, but we really can’t impose. Besides which my friends appear to have already had their fill on your house. I’m so sorry, and I promise we’ll cover the damages.”

“Nonsense dearie, what’s the point of a gingerbread house if people don’t take a nibble out of it every now and then. I love to bake, so I’ll patch up the holes in the morning. Now not another word, all of you inside and have something to eat, I just finished an apple and blackberry pie, and then we’ll see about getting you on your way.”

At the mention of pie, both Sarah and Nicole abruptly stopped eating the house, eyes widening in interest, and went to stand by Katie’s side.

“Thank you, that’s incredibly kind. My name is Katie, this is Sarah,” Katie indicated Sarah, “and Nicole,” and likewise Nicole.

“Wonderful,” the woman said, already appearing more energetic, “and my name is Ilza.”

Ilza led the trio into the house, through a narrow corridor and into the biggest kitchen any of them had ever seen. Dozens of pots and pans hung over a row of stoves, counters with drawers filled with every utensil imaginable, an entire wall given over to seven separate ovens, six of them regular-sized and one of them large enough to comfortably accommodate two people. The girls sat around a large table while Ilza brought out plates and glasses, setting a pitcher of cold whole milk in front of them and then bringing out the pie. It was just over a foot in diameter, much larger than such a small old woman could possibly have been able to eat on her own, and still piping hot. Producing an enormous knife from under her cardigan the old woman began cutting the pie into thirds, portioning one out to each of the girls. While Nicole and Sarah looked elated, Katie was visibly intimidated by the volume of food set in front of her. All the girls set to the task of clearing their plates, all three of them astounded by the unparalleled perfection. The pastry was light and flaky, the insides sweet and gooey and the taste indescribable. Needless to say the twins, with their gluttony well-practised after weeks of gorging, had little trouble polishing their plates but the dream-Katie, designed by Adam to have little interest in food, was struggling before she had eaten half of it.

“Man, I'm full,” Katie said, pushing her chair away from the table. “Nicole, Sarah, do you want some more?”

“Of course,” both twins chimed immediately.

Dividing her remaining dessert into equal helpings Katie gave the twins their seconds which they swiftly devoured. While the girls recovered from their sizeable repast Ilza cleared away the plates and the pie tin, placing all of it in the nearby sink before coming back to the girls, refilling their glasses before taking a seat.

“Thank you Ilza. That was an amazing pie,” Katie said, Nicole and Sarah still in something of a sugar coma after snacking on the house and eating close to half of a pie.

“You’re welcome dearie.”

“Now, we also needed to get to the nearest town, how far away is it?”

“The nearest town? Perhaps ten miles, but the path is very difficult to follow. You could easily get lost, even in the daylight and at this time of the afternoon you’d be unlikely to make town before it gets dark.”

“Oh. Well, we had better try anyway. Could you give us directions?”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t you stay here tonight? There’s a trader who travels between the nearby towns and he’s due to pass here tomorrow, he brings me supplies and then sells some of my baking. I’m sure he’d be happy to give you a lift into town. How does that sound?”

“We really couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve been so kind to us already.”

“Nonsense Katie, you and your friends will stay here tonight, and tomorrow morning you’ll head off safe and sound.”

“Well, if you’re quite sure. We have been on the road for some time, and I for one am very tired. Yes, we’d be incredibly grateful if we could spend the night.”

“Excellent, well then good night,” and Ilza snapped her fingers.

“Hu…” And just like that all three girls were sound asleep, and Adam watched as the scene dissolved and the game began.

Nicole and Sarah awoke in a soft bed. It took each of them a moment to determine what it was that woke them up. At almost the same moment they both recognised the intoxicating aroma of pancakes. Instantly awake the twins bolted upright in their beds, finding themselves inexplicably dressed in their underwear with no sign of their clothes. Then they saw the bars. The twins were in a large cage which was itself in Ilza’s enormous kitchen. There were two beds, what appeared to be a bathroom and a decent sized table but nothing else. The pervasive scent of pancakes was overriding the girls’ confusion and taking a better look at the kitchen they saw Katie at the stove.

“Katie!” Nicole yelled.

Katie didn’t respond. She didn’t even turn away from the stove.

“Katie, what are you doing?”


“Well let us out of here.”

“I can’t. I told you I’m cooking.”

“She really can’t help you,” Ilza said, appearing in the doorway.

“What do you mean? Why the hell are we in a cage?”

“Oh, come on dear. You must have worked it out by now. Little old lady, lives in a gingerbread house in the middle of the woods. Ringing any bells?”

“What, are you talking Hansel and Gretel?”

“Exactly. Which makes me?”

“The witch?”

“Right again. Which rather neatly makes you my next meal. Both of you were so insatiably greedy, and I do like dinner with a good appetite. Your eating habits have already made both of you deliciously plump. A few weeks with me and you’ll make quite a feast.”

“Forget that you evil bitch, we’re not going to stuff ourselves just to give you a good meal.”

“No, I suppose you won’t. That’s why I’m so glad your friend Katie is here to help me.”

“What do you mean? What have you done to Katie?”

“Well she had no real potential as a meal, so I was just going to cook her and have an appetizer, but then I had a much better idea. I worked a little of my magic to make Katie into an extraordinary chef, one whose culinary repertoire is filled with every fattening and unhealthy dish imaginable. Then I gave her a compulsion to cook for the both of you. It’s all she cares about anymore, which is why she has no interest whatsoever in helping you escape.”

“How is that going to make us eat?”

“Pancakes are ready,” Katie suddenly trilled, bringing over two towering stacks of thick pancakes, rivulets of syrup running down the whipped cream mountain that topped both piles, each over a foot high. Katie walked through the bars of the cage, plates in hand, as if they weren’t even there, set the twin’s meal in front of them and headed straight back to the kitchen before the twins could even register their surprise.

“Well girls, aren’t you going to try some of your pancakes?” the witch inquired.

“No chance you old bat,” Nicole spat, “We told you already, we’re not going to fatten ourselves up just so you can have a better meal.”


“My, my girls, whose stomach was that? Are you still hungry even after all those sweets you ate yesterday? What good little eaters you are!”

“We’re not hungry,” *Rumble* “We’re fine,” said Sarah, voice shaking slightly, “And we’re not eating one bite.”

“Well, that’s a shame dear. Those pancakes look simply delectable. Light and fluffy, and still warm. That Katie’s quite a cook now isn’t she.”

Adam watched the twins’ titanic struggle, each of them staring, transfixed, at the pancakes in front of them. Sarah’s eyes were wide, pupil’s dilated, breathing heavy. Nicole was licking her lips, the fingers of her left hand beating an impatient rhythm on her soft thigh. They broke at the same moment. Jumping from their beds to the table with an energy they reserved only for food they immediately began devouring the pancakes. Grunts of appreciation escaped their chewing mouths as shudders of near-orgasmic pleasure racked both their bodies, driving their eating to an ever more frenzied state. Both girls’ eyes were closed, flecks of whipped cream spattered across their cheeks and trickles of syrup running down their chins as their naked stomachs slowly filled. The protuberant bellies, which already hung slightly over the waistband of their underwear, grew fractionally with every mouthful and as the girls reached the end of their plates the weight of food sitting in their stomachs had buckled the hem of their panties and folded over it, obscuring it completely. The moment the twins finished their final mouthful Katie appeared again, this time carrying two platters laden with a full breakfast fry-up: sausages, bacon, fried, boiled and scrambled eggs, French toast and fried tomatoes. Already completely intoxicated by the pleasure of eating neither twin hesitated from setting to the task of their second course. As their nostrils flared at the permeating aroma they began shovelling the food into their waiting maws, bulging cheeks mirroring bulging bellies. As the twins devoured the greasy fare, moans of pleasure mixing with grunts of approval Adam decided to leave them to their dreams for a time. He would come back later, after the twins had had a few weeks to really gorge themselves. While the dream-Katie fed the two girls into ever larger sizes Adam would go into the real Katie’s dream. He had done so on several occasions in the fortnight since his work on Parker’s Piece, not to further fatten Katie, who made sterling progress all on her own, but to maintain and enforce a healthy attitude towards food, to that effect Katie remembered her dreams as vividly as if they had occurred in real life.

The Katie that Adam found in her dream was very similar to the imaginary one he had left in Nicole and Sarah’s. The Katie here was taut and toned, slightly sculpted abs, sleek thighs. Her breasts were large and firm and her bottom was pert and tight, as it had been when she had first arrived at Cambridge. Indeed the more Adam looked the more he realised that was exactly what he was seeing: When Katie had first arrived at Cambridge, a former cheerleader, she had had a body honed by exercise and blessed by extraordinary hourglass attributes, a figure that she had lost rapidly in her first year as academic pressures and overeating ballooned her body. That had been close to four years ago, and not long after her initial gain she had shed a great deal of the weight, though never quite regaining the same level of fitness. The vision of herself that Katie was projecting in her dream was exactly the body she would have had if she had never gotten fat in the first place. She was dressed in matching black bra and lacy underwear and gazing at her own reflection in an enormous mirror. She twisted and turned as she stared at herself, caressing her hands down her thighs, thrusting out her chest, pirouetting as she admired her shapely rump. It was as Katie leant into the mirror to give her reflection a kiss that Adam took control. As Katie’s lips brushed the cool surface of the mirror it grew warm to the touch. Surprised Katie recoiled, eyes open, and watched as the mirror fell backwards leaving her reflection still standing in front of her.

“What the…?”

“Hello Katie,” the reflection said, “Don’t you look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” Katie said, striking a pose that highlighted the sharp contrast of her measurements.

“Go on, give us a twirl,” the reflection cooed, “Let’s see you.”

Giggling slightly Katie obliged, spinning on the spot. The motion made her breasts swing, poorly confined in their lacy cups, although her rump, taut and toned as it was, resolutely resisted the call to sway.

“Ooh, fantastic arse you’ve got there.”

“I know.”

“Of course, none of this is right.”

Katie, who had been looking down at her body again, didn’t immediately register what her reflection said. When the penny dropped a few seconds later she looked quizzically at the mirror-Katie as if to say “What?”

“Come on now Katie you know you don’t look like this.”

“Of course I do, look at me. I’m gorgeous.”

“Okay gorgeous. What did you last have to eat?”

“Me? A salad, no dressing.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Y-y-yeah, pretty sure.”

“It wasn’t a large pizza maybe? With a half-dozen sugared doughnuts to follow? All washed down with a litre or more of cola and a gallon of ice cream?”

“Mmmmm. Pizza. Wait, no! Don’t be ridiculous I don’t eat stuff like that, I work out and I eat right, that’s why I have this body.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t pizza?”

Katie’s reflection walked up to her, a somewhat malevolent grin on her face, and poked Katie in her delicately muscled stomach. Katie felt something immediately: a rumbling in her stomach that blossomed into a warmth, she felt cosy. Then something began to pinch her. It took only a second to realise what had happened. Katie’s stomach, in response to her reflection’s prodding, had reassumed its real-life shape. While the majority of Katie’s weight had settled below her waist and in her breasts her daily caloric excesses had crafted quite a potbelly. Protruding a few inches over her panties, her skin still firm enough for it to stick out in front of her, Katie was now sporting an incongruous bump on her otherwise slim and shapely figure. The additional adipose also spread round her sides, creating love-handles that hung gently over her underwear.

“Now that’s more like it,” the reflection said, “Much more fitting a shape for a girl who so loves her food,” and with that the reflection gave Katie’s belly a shake to watch it wobble.

“What the hell did you do to me?” Katie screamed, “Give me back my body!”

“But this is your body Katie. This is the body you created when you first got to university. You started partying, you ate and drank thousands of empty calories and then when you fell behind on your work you ditched your exercise routine to catch up.”

“But I don’t want to be fat, it’s disgusting.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you want to be fat. If you’re fat you get to eat what you want. Pizza, burgers, chips, chocolate, ice cream, chocolate ice cream, all for you.”

“But I was so beautiful,” Katie whined.

“Oh hush.” And with that Katie’s reflection began to walk around her, looking at the pronounced protuberance hanging over her waistband. “Besides, a little extra weight comes with benefits.”

“Like what?”

“Like those,” the reflection replied, pointing at Katie’s already sizeable D-cup breasts. As soon as Katie saw her reflection point at her chest she felt the warmth return, now deep in her breasts. As the warmth grew it transformed into a pleasurable sensation sending a shudder down her spine. When the feeling subsided Katie looked down at the expanse of cleavage that had fought its way out of the confines of their fabric prison. The tightness of her bra was causing the straps to pinch under her arms and as she tried to readjust it the material scraped against her nipples, sending another shudder of pleasure coursing through her body. Growing frustrated with the constricting bands Katie reached behind her and undid the clasp. Her breasts sprang forward, the now woefully small bra falling gracefully to the floor, and assumed their natural positions. Katie’s bosom was still firm enough to point upwards but their extra heft had dragged them further down so that her breasts were threatening to rest on top of her tummy.

“See. That’s not a bad bonus is it? What are they, at least DD now, closing in on an E-cup?”

Taking her newly enlarged breasts in her hands Katie had to admit that she liked the extra mass, and they seemed more sensitive as well. While Katie’s breasts had always been large she was immediately enamoured of the acres of cleavage she could create by pressing her breasts together.

“Okay, this is good. But I’m still not keeping the stomach. I’ll be thin with big breasts, the best of both worlds.”

“You’d have to diet, really diet. Nothing but salads and lean meat. No sweets, no sugars, no fats. And you’d have to exercise. Every day. For hours. Is that really what you want?”

“I want to be thin!”

“Well you’re not. We haven’t even got to the best bit yet.”

“What do you mean?”


And with absolutely no warning Katie’s reflection, which was still circling Katie, slapped her firmly on her tight behind. This time the warmth was immediate and distributed over Katie’s entire lower half: her butt, her hips, her thighs all began tingling with a scintillating electricity that quickly became so pleasurable that Katie gasped before starting to gently moan. Losing herself in the flow of her expanding figure Katie’s hands began to knead her engorging buttocks, feeling her fingers sink into the growing mounds of pliable flesh. Her hands moved to her hips, feeling them swell outwards as the pounds piled on. As her hands traced her rounding curves she could feel her thighs thicken and touch together, rubbing sensuously as she writhed in pleasure. As the last of the pounds flowed onto her now immense bubble-butt Katie’s excitement culminated in a violent climax that sent her to the floor smiling and out of breath.

While he gave Katie a few minutes to recover Adam returned to Nicole and Sarah’s dream to see how a fortnight’s near continuous eating had treated them. What he saw defied all of his expectations. The twins were frankly enormous. The weight they had gained had settled predominantly in the middle. Great billowing stomachs flowed over their thighs as they sat on their beds gorging themselves on chocolate cake. Their stomachs were clearly packed tight with a surfeit of food, bulging forward like overfilled balloons but the layers of fat encasing them still wobbled and jiggled with every mouthful they took. Their bottoms had grown as well, spreading along with the hips at least half-a-foot in every direction. In their seated positions it was difficult to determine the true size of their behinds but they looked very soft and quintessentially comfy. The twins’ twins had also grown, their breasts had exploded out of their underwear to sit proudly on top of their massive guts. It was just as Adam arrived that the twins stopped eating. The only thing that had caused this to happen was that, for the first time since they had begun, there was no more food to eat. Looking around in something of a daze the twins noticed the witch standing outside their cage.

“Excellent dearies, excellent. Look at you, just look at how delectable you’ve become. You are going to make quite a meal. I’d better check on the oven, see how it’s coming along.”

The witch hobbled over to the enormous oven that covered half of one of the walls, opening to reveal a towering inferno of flames. As the witch gazed into the fire, seemingly hypnotized by the dancing light, the dream-Katie she had enslaved to cook for the twins came up behind her and kicked her inside, slamming the door shut with a resounding clang.

“Katie, you saved us,” Nicole exclaimed.

“No,” Katie said. Immediately going back to the dish she had been cooking.

“Then why on earth did you do that?” Sarah asked, “I thought you were under her spell.”

“I am. She made me want to cook for you. If she had eaten you, I wouldn’t have had anyone to cook for.”

“I can live with that,” the twins said in unison.

As the twins began to tuck in to their next culinary feast Adam ended the dream, giving around 12000 calories for the twins’ bodies to digest as they slept through the rest of the night, a small portion of what they had ingested in their dreams but a good amount for a single night of sleep, and then returned to Katie’s mind.

Katie was seemingly still exploring her new figure. The last change she had undergone had been by far the most significant. Her thighs had widened so that the top two inches were squished together, rubbing together with every step Katie made, a movement that sent a thrill of erotic excitement coursing through Katie’s loins. The greatest change had been to her butt: it had exploded outwards and sideways into two globular hemispheres that had quickly dwarfed and promptly consumed her underwear which had been reduced to a thong even before her growth had stopped. In spite of the extra flesh that now adorned her rump, wiggling and jiggling with her every movement, Katie’s skin remained flawlessly smooth and firm enough to create an extraordinary heart-shaped behind that jutted inches outwards from her back.

“So Katie, how do you like your extra weight?”

“I’ve got to admit, that was amazing. My whole body feels alive, is this what it feels like to be fat?”

“Yep, and you can make it even better.”

“My God, how?”

“Eating more and getting even fatter.”


“Try for yourself. Look there’s a nice big chocolate cake right over there.”

“Wow, when did that appear?”

“Nevermind, try some.”

Walking over to the table that had appeared behind her Katie sat down, marvelling at how comfortable her cushioned rump felt on the seat, and looked at the dessert in front of her. It was a truly massive cake, more than a foot across and laden with thick gooey dark chocolate. Picking up a fork Katie dug in, smiling broadly at the sumptuous flavour of the exquisite cake. Katie ate and ate and ate, and the fuller she became the more she began to feel that same tingling sensation between her legs. As she passed the three-quarter mark she was clearly quite full, her face was flushed and her breathing heavy, still she persevered, taking great chunks out of the cake and devouring it blissfully, each bite only adding to her fullness, heightening the strange thrill that flowed through her. As she finished the last bite of the moist cake the sensation flooded her entire body, bringing her to another explosive climax that sent waves of pleasure resounding through every fibre of her being. The feeling was so intense that Katie was jolted straight awake, every second in her dream emblazoned in her memory, only to find that her sheets were damp. Though embarrassed to discover that her dreams had spilled over into the real world Katie was still staggered by the strength of her excitement just from food. Maybe her weight gain wasn’t all bad after all…

Happy with the night’s work and content that the next stage of Katie’s development had been put in motion Adam finally went to bed himself, wondering what the morning would bring.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.

Last edited by Mrak on Tue Jun 05, 2012 2:03 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 04, 2012 9:18 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter V

It was nearing midnight and Adam was in the kitchen cleaning up after a celebratory end-of-term meal he had arranged for his roommates. While he washed the plates and the cutlery he surveyed the damage strewn across the living room: the empty boxes of eight family-sized pizzas stood heaped on the coffee table; countless empty cartons of Chinese, Thai and Indian takeout littered the floor; the empty wrappings of a half-dozen orders of fish and a dozen orders of extra-large chips were piled haphazardly on the kitchen counter; and empty tubs of Häagen-Dazs and Ben and Jerry’s ice cream lay intermingled among the rest of the rubbish. All empty. And the source of this carnage lay before him: three engorged girls who had fallen deep into a food-coma. Katie was spread over the sofa, an enormous smile plastered over her face, one hand trailing on the floor, the other lying on her bloated stomach. Swollen to an extraordinary size with the remarkable surfeit of food, Katie’s stomach towered above the rest of her body. Its tremendous bulk had caused her top to roll up underneath her breasts, leaving the taut pink mass exposed to the air. Even with so much food packed in it remained visibly soft, quivering slightly as she breathed in and out. Meanwhile her ever-enlarging breasts sat heavily on top of her swollen gut, rising and falling precipitously with each measured breath, threatening at any moment, if not for the strength of her too tight bra, to flop into her face. Slung over the sofa that Katie was sleeping on was her skirt, which she had removed some time ago when it became too constricting around her stomach. In spite of Adam’s and the twins’ presence she had been completely comfortable to appear half-naked, a small spell on Adam’s part that made any of the girls perfectly happy to forgo modesty for comfort when it was just the four of them. With nothing covering her lower half but a pair of stretched panties Adam could see the growing layers of fat adorning Katie’s thickening hips and appreciate just how broad the top of her thighs were becoming, squished together as they were in her prone position. The twins, who if anything had eaten even more than Katie, were propped up on a pile of cushions on the floor, their heads resting against Katie’s legs. Their sitting position forced their distended bellies to rest heavily in their laps, which spread outwards under the immense pressure, and the increasingly stomach-centred nature of their weight gain was plainly visible in the love-handles that had been developing of late and currently hung over the edge of their constricting trousers. Each of the twins had also gained some weight up top, their already ample bosoms gaining a little ground, but even when not in their engorged states, a rarity this last week, their stomachs stuck out a centimetre clear of their busts, unlike Katie whose breasts continued to refuse to allow her steadily widening waistline to close the gap. Where they had shown more progress than Katie was in their arms and faces. Their cheeks were slightly rounder, their chins slightly fleshier, the portent of double chins clearly in their future. Their upper arms, already devoid of tone before the whole affair had started, jiggled when they moved them and frequently bit into the sleeves of their tops, prompting both girls to often opt for tube tops that invariably displayed their ballooning bodies to full effect. All of the girls showed other signs of their feast: chocolate ice cream smeared on Katie’s lips; flecks of grease on Nicole’s cheek; a small splodge of tomato sauce on Sarah’s top. The girls’ comatose states were largely due to the plethora of food that Adam had provided, but the sugary, alcoholic, and highly calorific cocktails that Adam had kept them well supplied with had no doubt made their contribution, and had also seemed to spur their appetites to greater heights. All in all, it had been a very good evening.

Adam had arranged this bacchanal because it was the end of term. Tomorrow Katie, Nicole and Sarah would all leave for their homes for the holiday while he remained in Cambridge, having nowhere else he particularly wanted to be over Christmas. He had decided to leave the girls alone over the break and to not even check on their progress, waiting instead for them to come back in January and see for himself what progress they had made, but he wasn’t about to let them go without one final blowout meal. With one flick of his thoughts Adam cleaned up all the food packaging scattered around the girls like shrapnel after an explosion and then gently lifted all three of them up and floated them to their respective rooms and put them to bed. As he went to bed himself Adam was able to see all three of the girls in their beds asleep and see each massive belly rising from under the sheets.

The next morning the girls all left early. Katie’s parents arrived shortly after nine and Adam witnessed with some amusement the wide-eyed shock on her mother’s face as she saw her newly re-expanded daughter. The tightness of Katie’s wardrobe, which Adam had been very slowly enlarging to prevent her from buying new clothes that actually fitted, only served to illustrate the extent of her gains. Her low cut top was stretched by her bulging breasts and wrapped tightly around her soft stomach, the indentation of her navel clearly visible. Meanwhile her jeans were practically painted over her broad hips and thick thighs that pressed close together. Adam half-expected her mother to faint when she caught sight of Katie’s rump, squashed somehow into the constricting denim and seemingly swelling outwards from the small of her back like a balloon. Adam worried slightly that her mother’s disapproval would lead to Katie losing some weight but he wasn’t too worried. Katie loved food, and after several weeks of food-centred dreams leading to ever more pleasurable climaxes that love was only growing. Katie’s mother would be hard-pressed to break that association. On the other hand, if Katie did come back having lost some weight, well then at least Adam would have a challenge to rise to. Not long after Katie had left, after saying goodbye to Adam and the twins, Nicole and Sarah were ready to head to the station in order to catch their train. Having nothing better to do and wanting to help Adam walked with them, gallantly carrying almost all of their luggage, a feat which earned him considerable admiration from both the girls. As they walked the mile or so to the station Nicole and Sarah took the opportunity to buy doughnuts and pastries, Adam’s treat, from a bakery they passed and happily ate from the bag that Adam magically refilled when it got too close to empty. Eventually they reached the station, said their farewells and left. And so it was that by 11:00 Adam was back in his house, completely alone, and wondering what on earth he was going to do for the rest of the day, and for that matter the rest of the holiday.

Bored and lacking the inclination to find something interesting to do Adam settled in front of the TV and began to channel surf. He unintentionally ended up on a celebrity news program, an overly thin and catty woman with an effeminate and bizarrely dressed man were reviewing the weeks celebrity highlights. Just as he was about to change channels he noticed the picture in the top left corner of the screen, it was Tracy Chambers, the former Channel 5 news reporter now turned glamour model/reality girl that Adam had worked on before, inflating her breasts to such extraordinary size that she had left the news-reading business to people that could read. The topic of discussion, unsurprisingly given the other half of the magic Adam had cast, was her recent weight gain and the veritable explosion of her “ass”, as the adenoidal American woman pronounced it, into an enormous bubble-butt that now dwarfed even well-known curvy celebrities like Jennifer Lopez and Kim Kardashian. Both of the presenters were being none too charitable about the formerly slim-hipped Tracy’s ballooning into an over-exaggerated hourglass and the wide selection of candid photographs featuring Tracy devouring ever more calorie-laden food left no-one in any doubt as to where her rapid gain had come from. It was just as Adam’s patience was wearing thin and he was debating the best way to fatten the bitchy woman commenting on Tracy’s “hippo hips” that his phone rang, snapping Adam out of his contemplations and inadvertently saving the young woman’s waistline. Making a mental note to come back to her later, Adam checked the ID on his phone and answered.

“Hey Zoe, how are you?”

“Good thanks Adam. Look, are you still in Cambridge, I wanted to talk about something?”

“Sure I’m still in Cambridge. Come on over to the house if you’d like. It’s just me here so we can talk safely.”

“Okay, great, I’ll swing by in a few.”

“You could teleport you know.”

“Yes, but then I wouldn’t get to see people gawking at me while I walk down the street.”

“True,” Adam said laughing, “See you in a few then.”

Zoe’s impending arrival drove the catty newscaster out of Adam’s mind. Zoe’s visits often corresponded to some sort of excuse to use his powers and with the house empty he felt the need for a new project, something he could devote his Christmas too. It wasn’t long before Zoe arrived, dressed as ever in a fashion that was both conservative and devastatingly sexy, and both of them were sitting at the table, mugs of tea in hand. After a few minutes of small talk, Adam asked

“So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh, right. Well, I wanted to ask what you’re doing for the holidays.”

“Nothing really, why do you ask?”

“No, really what are you doing? Visiting family, going away, what?”

“Honestly nothing. My parents split-up when I was 15 and both almost immediately remarried. The divorce was mutual and mostly peaceful but it wasn’t long before they both had new families and I was just this strange kid that came from somewhere else. I still see my parents every now and then, but I’m not big on the family holidays, I’ve got 16 years on the eldest of their kids and I don’t really get on with any of the adults apart from my parents, so I tend to spend the holidays on my own.”

“That sucks.”

“It’s not so bad, I’m not a big one for the holidays anyway, I never really saw the point. Sometimes I spend a week with my grand-parents, but they tend to spend Christmas with my dad. Anyway, what about you?”

“Well, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about, but the background’s a little long so bear with me.”

“As always,” Adam replied, smirking, which quickly earned him a kick under the table.

“This Christmas I’m going to go and see my family, they live in America now. I haven’t seen any of them in about two years, so I’m quite excited.”

“Two years? Why so long?”

“I never got on well with most of my family, except maybe my dad. My mum was a fashion model, he was an investment banker. They have three children, all girls, of which I’m the middle one. The thing is, like I told you when we met, I was always quite plain, a little chubby, short. Basically unattractive. My mother was a real beauty, still is, and both my sisters are as well. I was the odd one, the genetic freak of the family, and my mum was always disappointed in how I looked, and my sisters were pretty cruel at times. So when my dad retired, a month or so before I came here, and my mum decided to move us out to San Francisco, I said I’d rather stay in England. She argued with me for weeks, but I worked pretty hard to get into Cambridge and I wasn’t going to start the application process all over again to get into an American university. And I wasn’t exactly keen on travelling there and back three or more times a year. In the end my father intervened and they moved and I stayed. My big sister was already out there, modelling of course though now she’s a designer, my little sister went to high school, my parents did whatever and that was that. I never really felt inclined to go visit them over the holidays and they never felt like coming here, so we haven’t seen each other in a while. I mean, we talk every now and then, e-mail and stuff. It’s not like they ostracised me.

“Okay, interesting but surely that changed when you got your powers, I mean you’re certainly not plain anymore.”

“That’s just it though. When I got my powers and I made these changes I made it so that everyone I knew thought I’d always been like this but I never modified my family’s memories, they still think I’m little plain Jane.”

“So this trip home is a little bit about showing off then?”

“It’s a lot about showing off. And that brings me to what I wanted to ask you. I want you to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend? Why?”

“Let’s see. You’re intelligent. You’re funny. You’re gorgeous,” Adam felt himself blush, “And most importantly of all, neither of my sisters have a real boyfriend. Showing up prettier than them will annoy them, showing up with you on my arm as well will drive them nuts.”

“So I’m another weapon to annoy your sisters?”

“Not another weapon, the weapon. There’s something else I want you to do too.”

“You want me to fatten up your family.”

“No, I want you to fatten up my sisters. And my two cousins who are going to be there for the holidays as well. But not my mother.”

“Why not your mother?”

“Because if she sees her two favourite daughters get fat, and even her beloved nieces, who are also both beautiful, get chubby too then she’ll be disappointed in them and proud of her now even more beautiful daughter who hasn’t gotten fat over the holidays. If she gets fat as well she’ll be more mad at herself than my sisters, or worse still she’ll just ignore all of it.”

“I get why you want to bring a boyfriend, but I think you’ll make them plenty jealous when they see you. And as for fattening people up, you do know you can do that yourself, right?”

“Not really, not like you can. I’ve tried it every now and then. A few of the girls on my corridor, some woman I passed on the street, but it never comes out nearly as well as when you do it. Look, I know it’s kind of weird to want to bring you to my family to screw with their lives but it’s not mean, I just want to have some fun, get back at my sisters for once and have them know what it feels like for my mum to disapprove of the way they look.”

Adam thought long and hard about it. It was weird, there was no arguing about that. But they had both been given these powers to make their fantasies come true. Was being adored and making other people feel jealous any more weird than fattening people up for the thrill of it? It was a lot more vain sure, but if anything it was probably a more common desire than his own. And he had been looking for a project for the holiday…

“Okay,” Adam said, a smile on his face as his mind started whirring, “I’m in.”

Early the following morning Adam and Zoe were at Heathrow airport waiting for their flight to San Francisco International. While Adam had wanted to teleport to save the time and hassle of the 11 hour flight and 3 hours pre-flight check-in Zoe already had a ticket and wanted to fly so Adam had acquiesced. He suspected, but did not mention it, that Zoe was glad of the extra time, she seemed nervous about the whole affair. Sitting idly in the departure lounge Zoe was quickly distracted from her broodings by a gaggle of teenage boys who were all staring, slack-jawed, at her flawless body. Immediately smiling Zoe took full advantage of her audience’s rapt attention, twisting and turning her body in seemingly natural but completely contrived ways that displayed the majesty of her rack to the gawking group. Adam, who had noticed how well-practiced Zoe seemed to be at this display, couldn’t help but have a little fun himself. As Zoe readjusted herself, pretending to read a book though Adam was fairly certain she was listening to the boys’ thoughts, Adam caused her phone to slip out of the pocket of the jacket she had folded behind her so that it fell with a clatter on the ground between two rows of chairs, completely out of reach from Zoe’s current position. Without even thinking Zoe got down on her hands and knees, looking underneath the chair for her phone and in doing so directed her sumptuously round and enviably firm buttocks directly at the boys, whose eyes widened in amazement. One of the boys stood up straight and gave the salute, his friends following suit, only reassuming their “covert” observations once Zoe had extricated herself from under the chair. Adam’s suspicion that she had been listening in on the boys’ thoughts was confirmed by the smirk across her face. As Zoe settled back into her seat, arching her back and stretching luxuriously, providing her audience with a clear view of her slender waist and tightening her blouse across her large chest Adam was unable to pass up the opportunity and quickly tightened her blouse still further causing the top two buttons to snap violently, flying across the departure hall. One button ricocheted off of a pillar and under another row of seats while the other flew clean through the air before landing, bouncing and skidding until it sat just a foot away from the feet of the teenagers so captivated by Zoe. While the rest had their eyes glued to the deep line of cleavage Zoe now had on display, one of them knelt down to pick up the button, looking from it to Zoe’s chest and back again in shocked disbelief.

“Did you just do that?” Zoe asked Adam quietly.

“Do what?”

“The buttons on my blouse. I’ve stretched like that a thousand times and never broken a button, today two of them fly off me and one lands inches away from a group of staring boys.”

“No, of course I didn’t. I’ll admit, once I saw the buttons were in the air I might have tweaked with their flight path a little to get it to land in the right place.”

“Oh really? And I suppose my phone just fell out of my jacket too?”

“Well you were fidgeting in your seat.”

“I should hit you, but it was kind of fun to listen to.”

“In which case I obviously take full credit.”

“Shut up,” Zoe replied, though both of them were smiling.

With hours to kill in the airport Adam was not about to spend all of them just pandering to Zoe’s games, he was in a huge playground surrounded by hundreds of people and plenty of restaurants and fast-food joints to pick from. Going for a stroll Adam walked around, looking for a good subject to while away the time and he eventually spotted the perfect candidate. The girl was youngish, about 18 or 19 he guessed, clearly a student as she was reading a rather dreary-looking mathematics text titled Algebra and Geometry. She was pretty, shoulder-length brown hair, brown eyes, cute nose, wide smile (in spite of the maths book which Adam found intriguing). She was dressed well too, a thick jacket was slung over her chair, she had on a white top, short-sleeved that stopped just above her belly-button, a pair of tight-looking Levi’s and fashionable black shoes, though Adam was sure from the look of them that if someone with knowledge about ladies’ footwear had been there to comment they could have given a much more impassioned description. What made the girl such a wonderful muse was that her clothes, at least her bra, panties, jeans and top, were clearly too small. If Adam had to judge, and he had become quite a good judge of such things over the past weeks, he would estimate that the girl was carrying 20lbs more than when she first bought them. The jeans creased around her thighs, the material stretched thin. The waistband had clearly been pulled down to allow her to sit comfortably, letting her soft starter belly overhang the button and the beginnings of love-handles overflow the edges. The belly pushed up her top, wrinkling the bottom of the fabric and as he watched Adam saw her periodically pull it down over her stomach so that it wrapped tautly across her gently bulging middle only for it to quickly reassume its natural position a few centimetres higher up. The girl’s top was showing strain around the chest as well, Adam was able to perceive the thinning of the weave of the fabric where it had been repeatedly stretched over her bigger bust. The bra too was somewhat on the small side, straps cutting into her slightly fleshy shoulders and perhaps half a size shy of fully containing her large C-cups. As he watched the girl turning the pages of her book he could see the slight jiggle of her arms as they moved, evidence if more were needed of her clear aversion to exercise, and the beginnings of a double chin when she lowered her head to read the bottom of a page. The scenario his mind quickly presented was of a young fresh-faced girl at university for the first time, away from parents, in charge of her own life, stressed by the pressures of work and the newness of it all, eats what she wants and when it’s convenient, comes home for Christmas break a little heavier than when she started. A classic enough story, one Adam had seen often enough in real life and in fiction. Only this girl hadn’t just gained a little weight, she’d passed the fabled Freshman Fifteen in just one term. Adam could work with that.

It took only a few moments for Adam to make the girl feel hungry, as though she had skipped breakfast and last night’s dinner, though he was fairly certain that was far from the case, and though she seemed at first unwilling to acknowledge her hunger, intent as she was on reading her book, it only took a few gurgling sounds emanating from her stomach to make her suitably focused on the matter at hand. Looking around her she spotted a McDonald’s and was instantly hit with the aroma of fried foods and greasy fare. A further rumbling from her stomach stripped away any remaining concerns over calories and the girl stuffed the book inside her knapsack and walked hurriedly to join the queue. Now that she was standing up Adam was able to see she was quite a hippy girl, they were at least as wide as her shoulders, possibly wider, and she had quite the rounded bubble-butt. In fact, given the way her rump was undulating and the handful of popped stitches he could see around the swell of her derrière Adam was beginning to wonder if a 20lbs gain wasn’t an underestimate. While the girl waited for the people in front of her to order their coffee Adam took the time to briefly scan her mind, gleaning such important facts as her name, Natalie, and that she was indeed a student. In a bizarre “it’s a small world after all” moment he discovered she was a first year undergraduate mathematician at Cambridge and on discovering this Adam began to pay slightly more attention to the details of her life since she would be easy to find again if he wanted a follow-up. As he suspected Natalie’s weight gain had been fostered by over-eating in the halls with her friends and an exercise regime that would charitably be termed “fair-weather” and more accurately termed “non-existent”, throw in her preference of not having to cook her own meals and her penchant for rich and heavy foods and you had a formerly svelte size four girl swelling over her jeans and out of her tops. As Natalie walked up to the counter, her hunger only intensified by her proximity to the food, Adam took brief control so that he could place an order for her.

“Hi, I’ll have three Sausage and Egg McMuffins, five hash browns, two toasted bagels and a large coke please.”

The cashier registered some shock at the size of the order, and Adam caught him scanning the crowd as if looking for a group, but she dutifully rang it up and placed the order. When the food arrived, stacked with some skill on a single tray, Adam again intervened, this time magicking four £20 notes into her back pocket and giving her a mental prod to take one out. Natalie paid and took her change, not even pretending to count it, and took a seat in the corner eyes still glued to her meal. Adam watched with delight as she picked up her first McMuffin and tore an enormous chunk out of it, chewing furiously while her other hand grabbed a hash brown. As she swallowed the first mouthful half of the hash brown filled the void, swiftly followed by more of the McMuffin and a great slurp of coke. Natalie ploughed through her meal, her magically induced hunger never fading, until the two McMuffins, three hash browns, a bagel and half the coke were sitting in her now noticeably larger belly. The button on her jeans was under increasing pressure, digging into her now much firmer belly, and Natalie took a moment to readjust them before attacking her food again with renewed vigour. In the span of twenty-two minutes Adam watched Natalie devour everything she had bought down to the last crumb, finishing off by chugging the last remnants of her cola. Breathing heavily, hands patting her full stomach, Natalie leaned back in her chair only to feel the same hunger gripping her. In spite of all the food she had eaten it hadn’t even slightly lessened. Knowing that it was impossible Natalie tried to throw it off, telling herself that in a few minutes, when her meal had settled, she’d feel full, really very full given what she’d ordered, but as if in direct opposition she felt her stomach rumble again, the universally accepted sign for “I’m not done yet”. Natalie knew she was going to need more food, ridiculous though that sounded. Even though a part of her was convinced that she should be able to ignore her hunger she simply could not muster the willpower. Still, she was far too embarrassed to order again from the same restaurant and so she bussed her tray and left again, noticing in the recesses of her mind the heavy feel of the food in her stomach. Stepping outside in the crowded lounge again Natalie cast her eyes for somewhere else to eat. Spotting a Pret a Manger she headed to door, delighted to find no queues this time and found herself once again under Adam’s influence as she ordered two Egg, Mayo and Bacon breakfast baguettes, two Ham, Bacon and Cheese croissants, an espresso, and a slice of chocolate cake that suddenly seemed too irresistibly yummy to pass up. Taking her food to a table Natalie once again began to eat, easily finishing both croissants and her first baguette before she noticed the growing pinching sensation in her stomach. A brief inspection by her fingers revealed the state of her distress: her over-stuffed stomach which usually hung gently over the waistband of her clothes was struggling furiously for space to expand, flowing heavily over the top of the band to rest in her lap while simultaneously stretching and puckering the button to near bursting point underneath. Casting surreptitious glances around her Natalie sucked in her stomach as much as she could, a feeble effort given the food she'd eaten, and after some desperate fiddling managed to undo the button. As her stomach swelled gratefully into its new space, the stretched pink flesh completely uncovered by her fashionably short top, Natalie realised how tight the clothing had been as the pain she had only half been aware of quickly receded. As the pain from the tightness of her clothes faded into memory the ever-present hunger once again reasserted itself and even as Natalie’s ears vaguely registered the sound of her belly pressing down on the flaps of her jeans and forcing the zip to drop half a dozen notches her hands had already picked up the second baguette. While finishing off the rest of the rest of her food Adam charted the progress her ever more distended stomach made, creeping ever further down her lap, slowly forcing her zipper open millimetre by millimetre. Finishing the last of the slice of chocolate cake Natalie once again lay back in her chair, hands at her side now, exhausted from eating, waiting to feel the warm, sated feeling of fullness fill her body. Instead all she felt was gnawing hunger, perhaps lessened slightly but still intolerable in her mentally weakened state. Leaving again, looking for some other eatery that might quell her appetite she saw a Millie’s Cookies standing opposite a Krispy Kreme. Hurrying over as fast as she could, her unbuttoned trousers and food-laden belly restricting her movements to a waddle she queued impatiently, bemoaning yet another string of people eager for their caffeine fix, before reaching the counter at Millie’s and ordering an assortment of two dozen. Grabbing one cookie from the bag and devouring it hungrily she walked over to the Krispy Kreme, hiding her cookies in her bag and brushing the crumbs from her mouth as if to hide the gluttony that her stuffed stomach attested to. Ordering a dozen doughnuts Natalie headed back out, looking for a secluded spot where she could eat her food out of the gaze of people. Only too happy to oblige Adam magically encouraged a number of people seated in a corner hidden behind some plants to move on and Natalie took her seat gratefully, placing her latest array of food on the two seats either side of her. Secure in her privacy Natalie began once again to eat without pause. One hand brought cookies to her mouth, which she demolished in great chunks so that errant crumbs covered her face and fell down to her top, resting on her exposed cleavage. Meanwhile her other hand ferried doughnuts to her waiting maw, a mixture of sugars, powdered and sprinkled, and jams, raspberry and strawberry and vanilla and chocolate, blended with a multitude of pastries that left Natalie’s face in a frightful state, though, by Adam’s good grace, the jams all obliging held firm in their treats and not a single speck landed on any of her clothes. As Natalie finished her last cookie Adam allowed her appetite to abate, leaving Natalie with a pleasantly full sensation quite at odds with the painfully distended look of her stomach and a pervasive feeling of well-being at having finally satisfied her cravings. Delighted to be full at last Natalie took stock of herself, wiping the crumbs from her top and licking her fingers clean of sugar before cleaning her face with some wipes from her bag. Seeing a bin not far from where she sat she heaved herself out of her seat, unsteady on her feet as the mass of food sloshed and swayed in her stomach, and tottered towards the bin with her rubbish in hand. Adam was marvelling at the way in which her stuffed belly, which resembled an over-ripe fruit, stuck out proudly in front of the girl while the mass of food dragged it down, completely hiding the fact that her jeans were almost fully unzipped. Adam was snapped from his appreciative staring by the PA system which alerted him to the fact that, finally, his flight was being called. Teleporting back to the gate he found Zoe packing up her things.

“Where’d you get to?” she asked. Adam noticed the recurrence of the slightly nervous tone in her voice.

“Oh nowhere really, just wandering around, stretching my legs.”

“Can she still walk?”


“You’ve got that look in your eye, the glint of a job well done.”

“I can’t imagine what you could be talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well I hope you weren’t too cruel, most women don’t like being inflated out of their clothes.”

“Now you’re just talking nonsense.”

With that Adam and Zoe joined the queue and passed through the gate and onto the plane. Sitting down in their seats they began the next stage of waiting. Adam was already envisaging the safety briefing, the long taxi to the runway and then the 11 hour flight. 11 hours. Though he had to admit that if the journey was half as much fun as the airport lounge he could think of worse ways of passing the time.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 04, 2012 9:47 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter VI

Adam and Zoe were seated in business class waiting for the plane to finally finish its taxi to the runway. It exemplified what Adam hated most about air travel, the waiting. Arrive three hours early to check-in for an international flight. Queue to get to the flight desk. Check-in. Wait in the airport lounge for the flight to be called. Queue to board the plane. And then sit through an unending safety briefing while the plane inches towards a runway. Then of course there was the 11 hour flight to look forward to as well. Not to mention disembarking, passport control, baggage collection. The flight hadn’t even taken off yet and already Adam was feeling impatient, but that was nothing compared to what Zoe seemed to be going through. Ever since they had got to the plane Zoe had been sitting bolt upright, eyes relentlessly flicking around the cabin, hands squeezing the armrests so firmly that her knuckles were completely white. Though Adam had been trying to avoid the subject he couldn’t help but ask.


“What!” Zoe’s voice was higher than normal, and something in Adam’s tone must have told her that he was concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m absolutely fine.” Zoe’s voice was getting higher still at the sound of the engines winding up.

“If you’re nervous about seeing your family, you don’t have to be. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“What? I’m not bothered about that. I’m…”

“What?” The plane started to pull forward, building speed.

“I’m afraid of flying okay!” Zoe hissed between clenched teeth. “I’m afraid of bloody flying.”

“What? Then why on earth didn’t we just teleport?”

“Because I didn’t want to take the easy way out and… because I feel ridiculous being afraid of flying when, if I wanted to, I could probably fly myself.” Adam noticed that Zoe seemed to be calming down.

“But that’s still no reason to subject yourself to 11 hours of being terrified.”

“I told you, I’m fine. It’s just take-off and landing that I really don’t like. Once we’re up in the air I’m good. As long as I don’t think about it too much.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. Now stop your worrying.”

And with that Zoe once again returned to her book. Knowing that the conversation was done, at least until the plane landed or they hit some particularly bad turbulence, Adam turned his attention back to the attractive air stewardess who was just beginning to serve drinks. She was of middling height but decked in 4 inch heels. She was quite pretty, blonde, well tanned, and looked every part the stereotypical stewardess with her uniform wrapped tightly over her large breasts, curvy hips, and firm rump. He watched her as she served the drinks, bending at the waist to lean across the tables providing the people she was serving a clear view down her shirt and the people behind a clear view of her perky posterior. Adam saw her glance his way and for a moment he was afraid she’d caught him staring but as he looked closer he saw that she was actually staring at Zoe. Indeed she appeared to be staring at two very specific parts of Zoe. When Adam had snapped the buttons on Zoe’s blouse he had created a fitting frame for her picture perfect breasts and Zoe, for whatever reason, had not magicked the buttons back into place. The effect was extremely alluring, an allure that the air stewardess seemed somewhat envious of. In short order the woman, nametag reading Sandy, was standing at Zoe’s side asking if either of them wanted anything to drink. Zoe ordered a glass of red wine and Adam a bottled water and still Adam couldn’t help but notice the way Sandy’s eyes were drawn to Zoe’s décolletage. When the stewardess leant across Zoe to give Adam his water Adam sprung into action. In an instant the woman’s bra had vanished, allowing her breasts to pull away from her chest and then they began to grow, becoming larger and heavier. The sudden lack of support and growing weight had the poor Sandy struggling for balance as her breasts doubled in size and kept expanding. The buttons on her blouse strained across her growing hills preventing her breasts from falling towards Zoe’s lap, instead compressing them so that they spread sideways until her right breast was mere millimetres away from Zoe’s face. Zoe, interrupted from her reading by this sudden invasion of her personal space by a pair of enormous breasts, wasted no time in stamping firmly on Adam’s foot before promptly returning the overly buxom girl to her former state. With the sudden weight lifted from her chest and her bra back in place Sandy, who had been desperately struggling to hold herself steady, sprang upright, nearly losing her balance the other way. Surreptitiously adjusting her bra with a confused look on her face Sandy continued serving drinks down the aisle and Adam noticed the bemused look on Zoe’s face.


“Very funny now leave her alone.”

“Why? I was just giving her a hand. She seemed rather interested in your, um…”

“My chest?” Zoe replied, eyebrows raised grinning ear to ear.

“Exactly, so I just gave her what she wanted.”

“She didn’t want bigger breasts. She wanted me.”


“She’s gay and she fancies me, so leave her alone.”

“Fair enough, but there must be men that fit the bill. What about the steward on the next aisle?”

“No good.”


“Because he’s gay too, look at his shoes. Now leave her alone. There’s a whole planeload of people for you to mess around with but…”

“Leave her alone. I’ve got it. Far be it for me to stand in the way of love.”

This time Zoe punched Adam on the arm before smiling and returning her attention to her book, while Adam started looking around the plane. However, the fact of the matter was that even though Adam was sitting with hundreds of people around him there was no one of any great interest to fatten. He found a trim young business executive, dressed primly in a white blouse and long black pencil skirt. Under Adam’s careful tutelage the woman’s figure grew to test the very limits of her wardrobe. Her chest expanded, quickly overflowing the sensible white bra she wore until her breasts, which had been obscured by the demure looseness of the blouse, pressed tightly against the buttons. Her flat stomach dissolved as soft adipose rapidly accumulated around her middle. As her stomach grew steadily larger Adam undid the clasp on her skirt in order to allow her bulging potbelly to rest gently in her lap while it’s still swelling size caused all the buttons on her top to pucker. As fat accumulated on her sides love-handles began to form, draping gracefully over the hem of her skirt which was itself rapidly finding itself under attack as her athletic thighs became broader and broader until they squished together in the tight confines of the narrow garment. Her arse too took its share of the growth, swelling backwards into her seat until her delicate thong, an exotic flair on her conservative attire, had vanished between her smooth, orb-like cheeks and the seams on the back of her skirt were on the verge of popping. When Adam was done he admired the way in which her newly plumped-up form wobbled and shook as she wriggled in her seat in spite of the constricting nature of her clothing. Adam could tell that unrestrained there wouldn’t be a firm point on the young high-flyer’s nubile body.

Then there were the three girls, sitting together in the centre aisle. They were clearly friends, chatting animatedly, and Adam couldn’t help but notice that they all seemed to have recently lost some weight. None of the girls was model thin, indeed what with their small bellies, pliable hips and general softness adorning their frames they were all three of them too heavy to be thin, or even slim. However, none of them was chubby either, they were all in some sort of half-state. Adam could tell that all three had been heavier not too long ago by the state of their dress. One girl was wearing a white leather belt done up one notch tighter than usual, the crease of its former resting position just visible in the strange aircraft lighting. Another was swimming in their jeans, a great chasm of space between her slightly puffy stomach and the waistband, not to mention the looseness of the fit around her legs. The last one showed similar signs of being a size or two too small for her clothes and her face had a slightly gaunt look as though she had recently been on a heavy diet. A moment later each of the girls had a large packet of sweets sitting on the trays in front of them. The effect of the sweets was two-fold: firstly, of course, as they ate the sweets they would gain back any weight they had lost, plus an extra 10 or 15lbs for good measure; secondly, while the sweets expanded their waistlines they would also contract their clothing so that once they had finished the bag their clothes would have shrunk so that they perfectly fit their current, thinner, selves. Over the course of the next hour, as the plane made its steady progress towards San Francisco, Adam watched as the three friends each ploughed their way through their bag of goodies. Adam had created the bags to be filled with the most delightful and addictive sugary confections imaginable and had been watching with some amusement as the girls made their individual progress, all eating in very different manners.

The girl on the right was a grazer. As soon as the bag had appeared and her nostrils had flared at the aroma of sugar the girl’s hand had unconsciously reached forward and grabbed a treat, popping it into her mouth without ever even pausing to talk. When the fantastic taste hit the unsuspecting girl she simply grabbed another, eating it quickly while her hands continued to articulate her conversation for her. The changes soon began to manifest themselves as the former thinnest member of the group quickly developed a hefty belly that stuck out firmly over her too tight belt. As the girl continued eating Adam began to wonder if everything she gained would go straight to her stomach which had gone from virtually flat to a round, wobbling potbelly while the rest of her remained almost unchanged. Soon enough though her gain began to spread itself out, her face became rounder, her arms acquired an ever more evident quiver when she moved, her thighs began to bulge out of her Capri shorts which soon grew so tight that excess flesh swelled out of the legs while her stomach made its inevitable journey towards the top of her thighs while the indent of her navel was plainly visible pressed against her tiny camisole.

The middle girl was a more voracious eater, clearly the sort of girl who, when she dieted, was incapable of doing things in moderation and had to live off celery sticks and water to keep herself from indulging in more pleasurable foods. After taking a bite from the first sweet her hand found she wasted no time in debating whether or not the sweets were acceptable on her diet rather she seized the packet and tipped the contents down her throat, filling her mouth with a huge variety of sugary goodness before taking the time to chew. The enormous helpings she gave herself meant that her weight gain came thick and fast. When she swallowed her first mouthful Adam saw the immediate effect on the girl’s already rounded behind as a huge chunk of weight rapidly found its way back there, swelling her rump, widening her hips and thickening her creamy thighs while her small belly crept millimetre by millimetre towards the waistband of her jeans. Another mouthful and once again her arse exploded backwards and sideways, already straining the seat of her jeans and pressing her soft stomach into the button. Love-handles joined her rotund rump, hanging over the waistband as her hips grew still wider to accommodate her expansive behind and rapidly fattening thighs. Thwump. Another great mouthful down and as the girl’s bottom spread every further outwards in her seat and her formerly loose jeans grew ever tighter over her thick lower half her breasts finally started showing signs of growth, gaining a little weight that caused them to jiggle as the girl tossed back another great mouthful of fattening confectionary. Thwump. Now her breasts were gaining in earnest, evidently trying to rival her burgeoning lower half as they inflated underneath the restrictive tube top. Once again the girl lifted the packet to her lips, but this time only a few sweets and a long trail of sugar was forthcoming. Chewing greedily the girl took the last of her extra pounds, her plump rump growing fatter still, before finally turning her attention back to the conversation her friends had continued in her brief absence.

The girl on the left was clearly the most cautious about her diet. From the moment the sweets had appeared in front of her she had been constantly glancing at them, her tongue occasionally licking her lips as if hoping to taste them through the air. Even so it had been a full twenty minutes before she had eventually caved-in, the last five of which she had spent staring at the bag, completely oblivious to the conversation going on around her. Adam had watched her very carefully look into the bag, pulling out the smallest treat she could find, before wrapping up the paper bag and putting it back on her tray, as far away from her as possible, before finally letting herself eat her prize. The sweetness of the little gummy bear caught the girl off-guard, causing her to roll her back and her toes to curl in pleasure and then all too soon she had swallowed it. Adam saw the miniscule changes her indulgence had caused: the fractional softening of her waist, the slight widening of her hips, the barely noticeable tightening of her t-shirt across her marginally larger bust. All the girl saw was the bag of sweets. Sitting there. Right in front of her. So close. Adam could hear her thoughts without using magic, they were written all over her face,

“I could have one more couldn’t I? Yes, just one more. After all, I’ve done so well on my diet, what’s one more little sweet going to do?”

Sure enough moments later she had grabbed the bag again and was fishing around inside for another sweet, this time pulling out a much larger choice. Even so she once again wrapped up the bag, this time stowing it underneath her chair behind her feet so that it was even more out of reach. Alas the second delicacy didn’t last much longer than the first and even as Adam watched her belly take a few extra pounds in former flab the girl was rummaging under her seat looking for the bag. This time she had no pretences about eating just one, she took out a handful of sweets and once again pushed the bag away as if hoping the handful would be enough even though she knew she’d want more. As her tentative eating gradually picked up pace the changes to the girl and her clothes started coming faster and faster. Her stomach blossomed as her skirt shrank beneath it, eventually forming a large roll that hung over the clasp and peeked out from beneath her top while her increasingly broad hips fought for space in her seat. Meanwhile her breasts expanded dramatically, becoming large D-cups that soon found themselves desperately seeking space in her now C-cup bra while the fabric of her t-shirt was stretched until it became near see-through over her chest.

Adam lay back in his seat, smiling at the re-enlarged trio, but the truth was that it hadn’t been a particularly satisfying experience. It had been fun sure, but not as fun as having Natalie make a tour of every eatery in Heathrow, not as fun as those cheerleaders had been, certainly not nearly as enjoyable as his weeks-long crusade to fatten his roommates. As amusing as they were Adam knew these one-off little weight gain episodes were a bit too easy, too dull, it’s why he kept having to come up with new ways of doing them, or find more and more elaborate means of trapping girls into situations where every choice was deep-fried and covered in batter. Adam knew that part of the reason for that was where he was going. The thought of spending four weeks helping Zoe by fattening her sisters and her two cousins had really taken hold. Having set Katie, Nicole and Sarah aside for the holidays the thought of a long-term project was extremely exciting. What’s more, Adam really wanted to impress Zoe. He knew how much she enjoyed the thought of her sisters getting chubby, fat even, and the significance of his role in her fantasy was not lost on Adam. He had to come up with something original. That was why ever since he had first agreed to come with Zoe as her faux-boyfriend he had been racking his brain for the right bit of magic to cast. A few decent ideas had presented themselves, none that had struck him as particularly inspired, but now that he was stuck on an airplane for the next nine or so hours it did at least give him time to think.

The next sound Adam heard was the captain’s voice over the tannoy, announcing that the plane was coming in for landing at San Francisco International Airport. Blinking blearily Adam woke up to find Zoe still asleep on his shoulder, her open book held loosely in one hand. Figuring that it would be kinder to leave her sleeping for as long as possible Adam carefully took the book from her hands and put her tray back upright. It was another several minutes before the plane started to descend and the loss of altitude jolted Zoe awake.

“Huh. Whazgoinon?”

“It’s alright Zoe, the plane’s just landing.”

“We’re there already?” Now Adam could hear the fear returning to her voice.

“Yes, we’ll be on the ground in about five minutes.”

“Did I sleep on you?”

“A little.”

At that moment the plane dipped suddenly, Adam presumed it had been buffeted somewhat in the wind, but the brief sensation of falling made Zoe clutch Adam’s hand.

“Come on Zoe, don’t think about the plane. Think about where we’re going. In a little while you’ll get to see your family again. Think about their reaction when they see how much you’ve changed.”

“Look Adam, I know what you’re trying to do. I already tried thinking about something else, I’m just feeling really present right now.”

“Okay then, how about me?”

“What about you?”

“Well, you told your parents you were bringing your boyfriend, shouldn’t we have answers prepared for the inevitable questions?”

“Questions? Like what?”

“Like ‘Where did you meet’, ‘How long have you been going out’, that sort of question.”

“Fair point, we should probably have something ready to say. Why not keep it simple, keep everything as close to the truth as possible.”

“So we met in a supermarket a little over a month ago and you caught me magically enlarging your bum?”

As Adam had expected this comment earned him a sharp poke in the ribs.

“Oi! But, you’re right. The whole met in a supermarket thing isn’t great. And if we’ve only be dating a month it would be a little odd that I brought you over for the whole Christmas holidays.”

“And not mentioning the magical powers might be good plan too.”

“Okay, how’s this: we met six months ago at a club.”

“Which one? Nusha?”

“No, let’s say Revs. Anyway we started dating not long after we met, let’s say a week. That should be enough to start with. If we do end up having to make more stuff up we’ll just make sure the other knows. If it all goes wrong we can always modify my family’s memo…”

And at that moment the wheels finally hit the tarmac and after the brief shock of the plane bouncing on the tyres and the pull as the plane decelerated Zoe looked decidedly calmer.

“Thanks Adam.”

“For what?”

“For distracting me. I know that’s what you were doing.”

“You’re welcome.”

With the plane down it was a short wait until they were finally off the aircraft and breezing through passport control and customs to await their baggage on the carousel. Eventually they exited the terminal, Adam carrying the bags, hailed a taxi and before Adam knew it they were pulling up outside a large house and Zoe was already climbing out. In spite of himself Adam was nervous. Sure he wasn’t technically Zoe’s boyfriend but that didn’t make the “meet the family” moment any less intimidating. Rationalising that if everything was a complete and unmitigated disaster he could always flee to the sunny side of Mars Adam dragged himself out of the cab and went to grab the bags and pay the driver while Zoe made her way up to the front door and rang the bell.

Adam reached the door before it opened, giving Zoe time to appropriately fuss over the neatness of his clothes. Adam was seized with the distinct impression of being presented for market. The sound of hurried footsteps across a stone floor and a voice calling out “I’m coming, I’m coming,” heralded the arrival of someone, Adam guessed from the young sound of the voice that it was one of Zoe’s sisters, or possibly cousins. He heard the sound of a deadbolt being drawn backwards and then the door opened.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 04, 2012 11:21 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter VII

Adam and Zoe were still standing outside her house. The door had been opened, Adam guessed, by Zoe’s younger sister, and while Zoe’s face was currently locked in a slightly worried half-smile Adam had watched her sister’s face go from smiling welcome as she opened the door to confusion as she saw Zoe’s new and improved body and finally to wide-eyed, slack-jawed amazement that appeared now to have robbed her of the ability to move or speak. In the several aching seconds of silence Adam had time to evaluate the sister, who he was fairly certain Zoe had said was called Julie, or more often Jules. She was definitely pretty, an innocent, girl-next-door face with large round blue eyes and blonde hair framing her face and stretching half-way down her back, and her body practically screamed stereotypical American cheerleader with the above average breasts, narrow hips and legs and stomach so toned that Adam wondered if she had ever eaten an extra calorie. She was dressed fashionably and provocatively: her white t-shirt was very low-cut and probably two-sizes too small which had the effect of enhancing her cleavage and baring several inches of taut, lightly-muscled midriff; blue denim jeans that fit like a second skin and black heels that added an extra inch to her height, making her around 5’ 6”, somehow screamed sexuality and exuded virtue at the same time, it was evident that Julie knew something about fashion. Still, it was the eyes that Adam was most interested in. Sure they were large and round and blue and innocent but there was a spark there as well. Adam had seen that look more than a few times in his University career, it was difficult to quantify or explain but it was evidence of a sharp mind. She might be staring bug-eyed at her now stunningly attractive sister but behind the open-mouthed idiocy Adam could tell her mind was running at full speed while she tried to process such an unexpected turn of events.

Just like that the moment passed, Julie’s face returned once again to ecstatic happiness and with a very girly scream she threw her hands around Zoe and tried to crush the life out of her. Zoe promptly did the same and Adam watched, smiling slightly, as the two sisters hugged until each was barely able to breathe.

“Oh. My. God! Zoe you look… What on earth… You look amazing.”

“Thanks, I know I’ve changed a bit, but look at you, you look all grown up. I love those jeans.”

“Yeah, but look at you. I hardly recognised you for a moment, how did this happen?”

Before the conversation went any further and he was subjected to a protracted discussion of beauty tips and secrets Adam took the opportunity of Zoe’s brief hesitation to cough.

“Oh God, sorry,” Zoe said, a little embarrassed, “Julie, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend Adam. Adam this is my little sister, Julie.”

Adam noticed the use of the word “little”.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Adam, why don’t you take the bags upstairs. Where do they need to go Jules?”

“Two flights up and second door on the left.”

Without hesitation Adam once again picked up all the luggage and took it inside, with his enhanced hearing Adam could hear Julie mouth “Wow” to Zoe, he couldn’t help but smile.

It turned out that Julie was the only one home for the moment, everyone else was either out shopping or at work, and so Zoe and Julie sat down in the living, an open space that connected directly to the dining room, and caught up while Adam sat next to Zoe, occasionally nodding when the conversation called for it. During this conversation Adam gleaned some unsurprising information, like the fact that Julie was the head of her high-school cheer squad, and some more interesting information, like the fact that her mother was pressuring her into modelling. He saw Julie make several surreptitious glances his way but largely her attentions were focused on her sister’s staggering metamorphosis. For his part Adam was scanning the photographs in the room, partly looking to get a little more information on Zoe’s family and partly to see a picture of Zoe before she got her powers, but he couldn’t see any such pictures. Either Zoe’s mother had been so embarrassed at having a less than perfect daughter or, more likely, Zoe had made sure when she got her powers that no pictures of her former self survived. It wasn’t long before Zoe’s parents arrived with Zoe’s youngest cousin, Sam, in tow. Her father, Simon, had been quickest to recover from the shock of seeing his middle child and had immediately hugged her hello before introducing himself to Adam. Sam had taken lead from her uncle and had done likewise, making a great deal of fuss over Zoe’s new look in the process. When, after nearly a minute of shocked silence Zoe’s mother, Laura, had still not moved a muscle Simon poked her gently in the ribs, prompting her to rush forward and embrace her daughter and then spend the next twenty minutes gushing about how beautiful she had become. As Adam had expected Zoe was enjoying herself, even if she was answering the same questions for her mother that she had for Julie, and she was definitely enjoying the hushed conversation between Julie and Sam that was going on out of earshot but which Adam knew she was listening in on. Eventually Laura had turned her attention to the dashing young man accompanying her daughter and Adam had enjoyed an uncomfortable thirty minutes of gruelling questions on most aspects of his life from Laura and others, though when they established that he was a Cambridge educated neurobiologist they seemed to have decided to avoid discussions of his work.

During his interrogation Adam took the opportunity to learn more about Sam. A physical evaluation led to no great revelations. Like all of the women in her family she was attractive. The geneticist in Adam was moderately interested in her hair, a deep and very attractive natural red that contrasted spectacularly with her pale skin and even, freckle-less complexion. It was a trait that Sam had to have inherited from her parents but in his evaluation of the family photographs Adam had seen that neither of Zoe's aunt and uncle had red hair themselves. Certainly it was not an uncommon occurrence but after years of studying biology little things like that still amused Adam. A little taller than Julie at 5’ 7” she then exaggerated that difference with two-inch heels and her choice of mid-thigh-length skirt further emphasised her long, sleek legs while her revealing blouse hugged her narrow waist and made her large B-cup breasts, nestled in a push-up bra, seem larger than they really were. Adam learned that she was a student, studying for her J.D. at Golden Gate University, and judging from her questions she was a strong believer in the adversarial system. What was more revealing perhaps was the manner in which she held herself, very calm and self-assured. She was a woman who knew how to manipulate people, how to get what she wanted from them for the least cost to herself, which was not to say that she was a unpleasant person, a quick sift through her memories revealed quite the opposite, but she was ambitious, focused, and determined.

In the middle of his questioning Zoe’s other cousin, Alex, appeared. Adam couldn’t help but notice the cousins’ names, shortened from Samantha and Alexis, probably indicated that one of their parents had very much wanted a boy. Alex looked much more like Julie with blonde hair cut to shoulder length and professionally styled. The more Adam had looked the more Adam had seen the resemblance, Julie and Alex were the same height, of similar body type, and their weights were probably within a couple of pounds of each other. The major difference was in the presentation. Whereas Julie looked like the teenager she was, Alex looked every bit the professional adult in her white suit and sensible heels. She was weather girl for a local news station, which required some odd hours at times, and Adam could tell from the way she was dressed that she was looking to graduate to a news reader sooner rather than later. That said putting her body behind a desk would probably disappoint many of her admirers: while her suit was quintessentially tasteful, the natural fashion genes running as strong in Alex as the rest of her family, it was also alluring by virtue of what it hid and what little it revealed. The skirt was tight around her perky, round bottom, the barest hint of her cheeks creasing against the back of her legs visible through the thick fabric and the jacket was purposefully cinched in at the waist to leave no question as to the state of her washboard abs. Adam was beginning to wonder if all the girls in this family were some kind of genetic blueprint for the modern day ideal of the thin, beautiful woman.

Adam found himself getting along rather well with Zoe’s family, even Sam once her initial barrage of questions had been answered to her satisfaction, and Zoe for one seemed delighted that her faux boyfriend had met with such immediate approval from her parents and such covetous looks from her sister and cousins. Eventually a phone rang and, after a brief conversation, Zoe’s mother announced that Isabelle, Zoe’s elder sister, was inviting everyone to a launch party for her design house’s latest fashion lines, of which she had apparently been one of the principle architects. Adam soon found himself being whisked up to the room he and Zoe were to be sharing while they were in San Francisco and Zoe was soon pouring through the clothes she had brought looking for something she wanted to wear. Adam meanwhile wasted no time in clicking his fingers and arraying himself in a suit but when he had presented himself to Zoe for her approval she had immediately clicked her fingers and adjusted large portions of the suit to create “better lines”. Adam had no real appreciation of what had been done but was content to play along and watch as at Zoe’s bidding dozens of dresses and skirts and jackets and tops began to spin around her in the centre of the room. She then began touching items as they passed, causing them to instantly replace whatever clothes she was wearing and the clothes she was wearing to appear in the fabric whirlwind. Because she was trying so many different types of clothing at various points she only had half an outfit on. Ever the gentleman Adam had of course turned his back the moment this had first happened but Zoe had quickly told him off for being so silly, “If it bothered me I would have told you to leave,” and so Adam had watched with some amusement as Zoe made her way through her carousel of outfits. As the garments span around her Zoe herself would turn on the spot as she thought and so at various points Adam was treated to clear views, interrupted only by the flurry of clothes, of her exquisitely well-formed, heart-shaped behind that was only half-covered by Zoe’s eye-catching underwear and the inviting bosom sitting snugly in her lacy D-cups. After ten minutes of clothing madness Zoe eventually settled on a black dress that hugged her curvaceous figure while also being demure and restrained, ever her style of less is more, and the remainder of the clothes flew into the nearby closet, which Zoe appeared to have magically expanded to contain everything. When they walked downstairs Adam couldn’t help but admire the stunning vision of Zoe’s cheeks sashaying from side to side as she went and from the look on her family’s faces when she entered the room (Adam suspected she had waited until everyone else was ready) she might have been a goddess.

The party was downtown and so the seven of them piled into two cars and headed out, their way was remarkably unimpeded by traffic or lights with Adam’s help and soon they were walking through glass doors of a very modern building. The event was a party not a fashion show, and the clothes were not high-fashion but rather high-end items that everyone could buy and so the models were not size 0 planks of wood with striking faces and bizarre ensembles but rather attractive women with thin, often curvy bodies dressed in an array of fashionable evening-wear. The room was filled with about fifty people, a dozen of whom were models. Waiters floated around carrying flutes of champagne and trays of canapés while the guests talked, gentle classical music playing quietly in the background giving every impression of elegant sophistication. They had barely walked through the door when they were ambushed by Isabelle, outfitted in a clingy white dress that hung down to her ankles but was slit on the left up to mid-thigh showing off her smooth, tanned legs. Adam had already learnt a lot about Isabelle. She had graduated high-school and immediately gone into modelling, having done some work in the holidays the previous two years. She never had any ambition to be a waif supermodel but her natural beauty, great body and relentless work ethic when it came to her diet and exercise made her a quick favourite among a number of fashion houses that catered to more than the global fashion weeks. She had modelled until she was twenty-three and by then had made quite a name for herself as being a very talented designer as well as a pretty face and so her fashion house had offered her a better paying job making clothes rather than wearing them. Isabelle had known she would never be an internationally famous model, she simply didn’t have the right shape, and so she had taken the job without hesitation. That had been almost three years ago and Adam could tell immediately that she was as thin now as she had been then, and she was clearly rather proud of it. Adam wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that she was wearing one of her own creations. Of all the relatives Adam had met so far that day Isabelle was by far the most similar to Zoe. She had the same black hair, though hers was much longer, reaching practically past her small but shapely rear, she was taller than Julie, a little over 5’ 8”, which still put her half an inch below Zoe but her stiletto heels more than made up the difference compared with Zoe’s equally fashionable but much more practical shoes. Other than that it was everything Adam had come to expect, large breasts, a C-cup at best estimate, tiny waist, slim hips, long legs. The most interesting thing about her was her face, which was currently locked in a state of total shock as she looked at her ugly duckling little sister returned a glorious swan.

“Oh my word! Zoe you look incredible!” Zoe blushed. “God I should hire you right now. I don’t suppose I could convince you to become a model, abandon your higher-education nonsense for some travel, excitement, sun?”

Zoe chuckled appreciatively before embracing her sister and replying, “Sorry Izzy, kind of got my heart set on it. Besides,” she took a step backwards and pulled Adam next to her, “This is all the excitement I need.”

Adam worked hard not to blush while Isabelle gave him the once-over, Adam caught a certain mischievous look in her eyes.

“Really? Well, I can understand that. Yum.”

While Sam, Alex, Julie, and Zoe devolved into fits of laughter and Laura shook her head in bemusement while Simon pretended not to have heard a word, Isabelle gave Adam a very clear wink with very obvious meaning: “I’m exciting too.”

Isabelle had to disappear to talk to some people and her mother, as a former model, went with her to see some old friends. In no time the entire group had split up and Zoe and Adam were on their own.

“Isabelle winked at me.”

“Really? Fantastic!”

“Fantastic? Why?”

“Because she’s going to try to steal you away from me. Stealing boyfriends is one of her favourite games, she’s unbelievably good at it.”

“So why is this good news?”

“Because she’s going to fail, you’re much too clever for that. And once she starts to get bigger she’ll think she’s gotten too fat to steal men, and that’ll be hilarious.”

“Okay, one question. Do you even like these people?”

“Of course I do. But they made my life hell when we were growing up, now I get to have a little fun. Plus I really don’t like it that Izzy always tries to steal other people’s boyfriends, it’s cheap.”

“Fair enough.”

“Oh, and another thing. We’re at a party full of models. These girls depend on their figures for work. Do not. Fatten. Them up.”

“Me? Why would you ever think I would do such a thing?”

“I’m serious, leave them alone.”

“Oh come on, just a little fun? I promise I won’t cause any lasting damage, nothing that can’t be fixed with a few days of extra diet and exercise. And if I go too far, you can always undo it.”

“Why don’t you fatten one of my sisters instead? Or Sam or Alex?”

“Because this is something quick, I’ve got a whole month to work on your family, better to do things slow. And besides, models are fun.”

“Fine, whatever! But behave yourself.”

And with that Adam set to work. In a moment he had identified all twelve of the models and made a few little tweaks. The trays of hors d’oeuvres that were being carried around suddenly emitted an intoxicating aroma that only the twelve models could smell. It was delectable, incredible, divine even, and as one each of the models took a canapé and ate it in two swift bites. With that the gorgeous scent disappeared and an entirely new compulsion arose: addiction. Each of the girls was now captivated by food borne aloft on silver trays. The addiction was not very severe, just enough that their eyes would unconsciously follow the food around the rooms, their hands might grab one before they had time to think properly, but the more they ate the more they would crave, and with Adam working his magic each of the trays held an unlimited supply of the treats the models desired. Adam watched with amusement as many of the models absentmindedly grabbed an appetizer off a passing tray, gobbling down the morsel mere moments later. The brief feeling of satiation as they swallowed quickly replaced by the want for another. One model, who Adam noted was especially thin, grabbed a sizeable handful from a passing tray and when a second tray passed just moments later elected to cram the six or seven spring rolls she held into her mouth at once, chewing furiously with a rapturous look on her face while she restocked her empty hands with mini-quiches that all too soon sped out of arms reach. While the models busied themselves with the canapés Adam turned his attention to the rest of the crowd.

A woman caught Adam’s eye, due in no small part to her enormous E-cup breasts almost entirely on display in a dangerously low-cut dress. The woman was otherwise very thin and at first Adam was sure the breasts were fake, they were much too perky and disproportionate to be natural, but they were real. She was with a man, his arm was draped across her shoulder, and Adam uncharitably assumed she was a call girl until he saw the engagement ring glistening on her ring finger. The couple had drawn quite a crowd, a gaggle of men all watching attentively as the young woman’s expressive conversation sent her titanic bust jiggling and jostling within the ill-suited and unstable confines of her dress. Adam made it so that every time anyone looked at the girl’s breasts they would increase in size by a millimetre or so. With the stares the woman was drawing Adam was sure she’d be snapping the straps on her dress before too long. Sure enough it wasn’t even a minute before Adam had noticed significant growth, one man in particular appeared to be looping round the girl again and again so as to catch as many glances at the girl’s canyon of cleavage as possible. Adam watched as the dress straps drew taut, the girl’s decision to go braless now looking like sheer madness rather than merely risqué. As the breasts crept gradually through F and into H their natural firmness began to give out, dragging the over-taxed dress further away from her neck and only enhancing the unbelievable view. Eventually Adam was forced to magically reinforce her ensemble in order to prevent a debauched scene in the middle of Isabelle’s event but since her breasts were still growing this structural integrity only served to force her breasts to spread further sideways until clear inches of flesh tightly packed into stretching fabric could be seen from behind the young lady whose back was starting to bow under the strain. While the throng of men gathering around the girl gradually increased, many newcomers seemingly becoming trapped in the gravitational pull of her bulging boobs, Adam caught the haughty stare of a waif of a woman, rail thin from top to bottom, who was driving her husband away from the “hussy”, the man looking back in sorrow. The woman was clothed in a blouse and black pants which hung like curtains over her shapeless form, and Adam quickly began making alterations for the suffering husband.

The first to go was the thin waist. Twenty-five pounds of fresh fat bulged out her flat stomach so that a roll folded over the hem of her pants and pressed into her blouse, causing it to barely stretch the buttons so that its presence was clear. A couple of extra cup sizes to the woman’s diminutive breasts were enough, in conjunction with the new tightness around her waist, for the blouse to squeeze them lightly together and create a gully of cleavage ably displayed once Adam had removed a few of her blouse's buttons. Coupled with the fact that until a few seconds ago the woman had had no need of a bra and Adam had created a pair of gently jiggling breasts that her husband immediately took notice of. The time then came to widen the woman’s hips and thicken her thighs until the pants were stretched to the point of nearly busting a seam around her wide, curvaceous hips and so that the tops of her thighs slid noiselessly past each other with every step while her fleshy, toneless, still tan legs wobbled back and forth. For his final brushstroke Adam cultivated a gelatinous backside that completely utilised the generous width of her new hips and completely filled the seat of her trousers until the woman had a shelf jutting out from the small of her back bouncing, undulating, and shaking with every single movement she made.

The party progressed late into the evening. Adam found the occasional woman in need of an extra couple of pounds here and there; he caught Zoe on more than one occasion looking at the suddenly emerging belly of the women she and Adam found herself in conversation with and she would invariably give him an exasperated look. It was late into the evening when Adam and Zoe were approached by Isabelle and another woman who Isabelle introduced as Naomi, another fashion designer. After a few minutes of idle chatter, Naomi saw one of Adam’s bewitched models, handful of snacks in hand, walking past them.

“Good god. Look at the state of her!” she exclaimed in a hushed tone.

“Who?” asked Isabelle.

“Katherine. She’s walking around, crumb covered fingers clutching a mound of those little sausage rolls, and her stomach is so stuffed with food it’s pressing into her dress.”

“Oh it’s not the end of the world. It’s not like they need to be on a catwalk in the morning, the main show’s not for a fortnight.”

“Still, hardly fitting for a model to stuff herself full of food. Come to think of it, are any of our girls not bursting out of their clothes? If they rip anything I’m going to kill them.”

“Oh ease up, they’re enjoying the party, let them be.” Adam felt his admiration for Isabelle rising as she defended his little projects.

“Oh come on Isabelle. When you were a model would you have eaten like that, would you have let yourself get to the state where you have one hand cradling your food engorged belly?”

At this point, Adam decided he’d had enough and so with one flick of his thoughts he duplicated all of the food that the models had eaten, that had caused a dozen thin and fashionable women to all look like future plumpers, and made it appear in Naomi’s stomach. Now Naomi was not the epitome of thin to begin with, unlike Isabelle she had gone straight into fashion design and while she was hardly fat, not even chubby, she was covered in a thin layer of extra adipose, her stomach in particular was pressing very slightly into her dress. The sudden onslaught of food quickly inflated her stomach into an enormous hemi-sphere of taut flesh. The mass of canapés now digesting in her gut dragged her stomach down onto the top of her thighs and the sudden expanse of belly pressing into her clothing popped several seams along her sides before a particularly sharp inhale from Naomi as she started to lose her balance to her bloated tummy caused a three inch tear to rip down each side.

“It looks like they’re not the only ones who indulged a little too much this evening Naomi,” Isabelle said, patting Naomi’s gargantuan belly while Naomi tried to close the rips in her clothes. Realising that it was a lost cause Naomi tried to discreetly turn around and retreat to somewhere she could find a change of clothes, preferably some sweat pants and a baggy top, but the weight now sticking in front of her swung violently as she turned, lengthening the rips and drawing the eyes of everyone present, including a number of the models, cheeks bulging with food, who tittered happily at the sight. With Naomi’s exit the party started to finally wind down and it was a little after one in the morning when the entire troupe made it back home. Though Isabelle had lived on her own for some time she still had a room for occasions such as this, and Zoe’s cousins often stayed the night and so everyone made their way to bed, Adam helping Zoe, who had actually managed to get more than a little drunk on champagne, to their room. It was at this point that Adam paused, he had wondered exactly what he was supposed to do at this point. After all, he and Zoe were not a couple even if they were sharing a room. Adam’s plan had been to conjure an extra mattress and to sleep on that but before he could Zoe, possibly having read his mind, said

“Don’t be ridiculous, Adam. We’re adults and there's plenty of space. It’s not as if anything’s going to happen, now stop being an idiot and get into bed.”

Knowing better than to argue Adam did as he was told and as he and Zoe lay side by side in the darkness and Adam was just about drifting off to sleep,

“Adam?” Zoe said quietly.


“You still haven’t told me how you’re going to fatten up my family.”

“No, I suppose I haven’t.”

“Well what are you going to do?”

“I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“Well when do I get to find out? When does it start?”

“It’s already started Zoe. It started at the stroke of midnight.”

“What did you do?”

“Not telling I’m afraid. You’ll have to figure it out.”

“Tell me.”

“Sorry, not just yet. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Hey! Why can’t I read your mind?”

“I told you, you’ll find out when the time's right.”

“Okay,” Zoe voice was getting quieter, and her words were slurring as she drifted deeper into sleep, “But I’ll get it out of you eventually."

As Zoe finally fell asleep and Adam felt himself follow a final thought flickered through his mind

“Let the games begin.”

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.

Last edited by Mrak on Sat Jun 20, 2015 10:43 pm; edited 3 times in total
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 05, 2012 12:07 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter VIII

Adam woke slowly from a deep sleep. He knew, by virtue of the magic now contained within him, that it was early morning, a few minutes after 6am. With his eyes still closed but his mind floating back up to the world Adam could feel Zoe's warm body pressed tight into his. At some point in the night they had shifted as they slept until Zoe was nestled in Adam's chest, his arm draped around her shoulder. Adam could hear Zoe's slow, steady breathing and feel her large breasts gently pressed into his side. No one else in the house was awake, or even close to stirring. From where he lay Adam could see all of Zoe's family, all sound asleep.

Her younger sister Julie was encased in a bright red duvet and dressed in a white silk nightie that spoke to the picture of innocence she exuded. Her room was adorned with posters of bands and movies, Adam was relieved by the absence of anything featuring sparkly vampires, and piles of fashion magazines and gossip rags covered a large part the desk that was not occupied by a laptop. Adam was only half-surprised to also see a few more interesting tomes on her bookshelves: Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time, several of the more accessible volumes by Feynman, Mathematics for Physicists, Mathematics for Engineering and a few others. Adam had observed yesterday that Julie was a lot smarter than one might have guessed of a blonde cheerleader, and he had been fairly sure that modelling wasn't her first choice of future career but more her mother's expectation. Now Adam knew what she was passionate about, and judging by her reading material this was not an idle interest.

The cousins, Alex and Sam, were in opposite but similarly decorated guest rooms. They clearly stayed often enough for some photographs and posters to have set up permanent residence on the tables and walls. Alex was sleeping in a t-shirt and panties, her clothes for the next day's work already clean and pressed hanging on the back of the door. Sam on the other hand was sleeping completely naked. Her bed was fitted with black sheets and a very thick, light-grey duvet which she appeared to have cast off herself at some point during the night. Her flawless alabaster skin and red hair were in stark contrast to the dark sheets and in the cool morning air Adam could see her nipples standing erect.

Isabelle's room was pristine white. The sheets on the bed, the furniture, the picture frames, even the lid of her laptop were white, inlaid on a light blue carpet and off-white walls. Isabelle slept in a nightie like her sister, though this was a much more fashionable and daring negligée than Julie's. Black and low cut, serving more to frame her sleeping form than cover it, the lacy semi-transparent fabric gave Adam the clear impression of a woman who was not unaccustomed to waking up with a man beside her and wanted to look her best. Zoe had said that Isabelle liked to steal people's boyfriends. To be honest Adam had thought she was exaggerating at the time, particularly when Zoe commented on Isabelle's near perfect track-record, but her elder sister certainly gave every impression of a woman well practised in the art of seduction.

Adam was eager for the day to begin, keen to see his ideas come to life. He imagined seeing Isabelle's bloated belly fighting to free itself from its black lace cage. He envisaged Julie's young body exploding into a more voluptuous form. He thought of her stomach sticking out, her rounded hips and growing rump stretching her nightie until it was see-through. He thought of Sam sleeping naked, even warmer now that her body was layered with fresh blubber, a little weight softening the angular lines of her face, rounding out her cheeks while her thin arms widened and began to jiggle and her trim legs inched ever closer together, brushing against each other as she slept. And Alex with breasts that stretched her t-shirt that was rolling up her gurgling gut while love-handles hung gracefully over the sides of her straining underwear. But it was too early still for him to get up, not least of which because he would wake Zoe. And so Adam lay in bed. Time seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly. Adam strongly debated hopping into someone's dream and giving their Christmas holiday a kick-start but he knew better, to do that so early would spoil the fun. And so he waited. He could see the sun creeping its way over the horizon and inching towards the tiny gap in the curtains. Unwilling to wait any longer Adam opened the curtains telekinetically until a stream of bright morning sunlight was shining on Zoe's face. Even so it was some minutes before Adam could feel Zoe's breath deepen and she finally opened her eyes.

"Augh." Zoe let out a strangled cry of pain as the curtains rapidly closed and Zoe once again shut her eyes tight as she buried her head in Adam's side.

"Morning," Adam said, keen not to let Zoe fall back to sleep.

"Eugh. No it isn't."

"Are we a little hungover?"

Zoe sat-up, stretched, and yawned before saying in her usual bright and cheery voice, "Not anymore" and then resumed her position atop Adam's chest.

"What time is it?"

"About half-six."

"How long have you been awake?"

"A while."

"Anyone else awake?"

"Isabelle's alarm went off five minutes ago. I'm pretty sure she's going for a run."

"What?" Now Zoe seemed really awake. "She's not supposed to be exercising, she's supposed to be sitting around eating and getting fat."

"Everything's under control. In fact I can promise you it's a good thing."

"That's it, time to fill me in on the big plan. Spill it."

"Not just yet. What I've done is set some groundwork, some generic magic for your sisters and your cousins, to get us going in the right direction and then each one has their own individual, well I suppose they might call it a curse, to really personalise their Winter weight gain."

"Enough of the cryptic half-answers. Tell me what you've got planned."

"Okay you can pick anyone and I'll tell you exactly what I've done if... you go on a run with Isabelle."


"Because she's your sister, she's naturally competitive and with you there to show-off to she'll push herself to the ragged edge. Meanwhile you won't even be phased and you can coax her into running faster and faster."

"But why is that a good thing? I want her fat not tired."

"Because the first thing I did was negate the weight loss effects of any and all exercise that Isabelle, Julie, Sam, or Alex do. When Isabelle runs this morning all she'll be doing is building up an appetite."

Zoe looked at Adam for a moment, clearly trying to process the idea. Adam could see the hint of a smile tug at her lips.

"You do realise that I haven't exercised in years?" Zoe was already climbing out of bed.

"Magic will make it easy."

"That's hardly the point. I hate exercise, I always have."

"This isn't exercise, this is sister-baiting. Judging by that dress last night you like that plenty."

Adam received a pillow in the face for that one. By the time he'd removed it Zoe had already changed into a running outfit that highlighted her lean, toned, physique as well as displaying her womanly attributes at their finest.

"You owe me some answers when I get back."

"I promised you an answer, not answers."

"We'll see," and with that Zoe disappeared silently out of the door.

Adam watched Zoe proceed through the house, arriving outside just before Isabelle left her room. By the time Isabelle got outside, dressed in a similarly fashionable workout kit, it was to see Zoe stretching. The sight that greeted poor Isabelle was of her formerly dumpy sister effortlessly lifting her left leg until it touched her forehead, looking for all intents and purposes as though it was no more strenuous than walking. A conversation ensued, Zoe asked for a good route to run, Isabelle insisted on Zoe joining her and soon they were running side-by-side down the drive-way, Isabelle casting occasional glances at Zoe as she continued to pick up speed. Zoe for her part was effortlessly keeping pace, always staying an inch or two ahead of Isabelle no matter how much Isabelle tried to draw level. Adam had a feeling Zoe was rather enjoying herself, in fact he was certain of it since there was no way she would have agreed if it wasn't something she wanted to do. It was still early, not even seven, but with Zoe now awake there was no harm in getting up himself. Adam went down to the kitchen, brewed some coffee and poured himself a cup while he waited either for Zoe to return or someone else to appear. As it turned out the first to emerge was Julie, stumbling sleepy-eyed downstairs still dressed in her nightie but now decked out in slippers and a dressing gown for the still quite brisk morning. Adam knew it was early in the day to be trapping the young girl into an early-morning indulgence but as they say "breakfast is the most important meal of the day".

"Morning Julie."

"Morning Adam, and, please, call me Jules."

"Okay. Do you want some breakfast?"

"Aren't you the guest? Shouldn't I be offering you something?" she was smiling now in spite of herself.

"Not sure, but since I'm the one who isn't slipping out of their chair falling back to sleep why don't we just say it doesn't matter. What do you want?"

"Nothing, I'm just gonna grab an apple."

"An apple? That's not much for breakfast."

"I really shouldn't."

"Are you sure I can't offer you something else."

Julie took a time in answering, Adam was fairly sure she was engaging in a vigorous internal debate on the merits of diet and exercise. It reminded him of the early weeks of fattening Katie, and look how well that had turned out.

"No, I'm su... Actually, maybe I will have something more."

"Good, what do you fancy? Pancakes?"

"Ooh, pancakes. I can't ask you to make that though, I'll just grab a slice of toast."


And just like that Adam was away. Pancakes were not a very difficult thing to whip up, even easier when you used magic, and it was only minutes later that Julie was presented with a short stack of pancakes layered in syrup.

"Wow, thesh are amazshing!" Julie managed to exclaim through a mouthful of sugary breakfast. Adam wasn't surprised in the least, after all he'd tweaked everyone's brains to improve taste, a similar thing to what he'd done to the twins but not nearly as extreme. Rather than a flood of endorphins that would completely overload all common sense food just tasted better now, and the more calories that were in the food the better it tasted. Conversely celery sticks now tasted like cardboard. Thinking on it, Adam wasn't sure anyone would notice the difference. Julie didn't take long to obliterate her stack of pancakes and Adam was immediately ready to offer her some more. With satisfaction Adam watched her start to shake her head no before she happily took the fresh batch from his hands.

Just as Julie was breaking through the halfway point on her second plate Sam walked into the kitchen, already smartly dressed for the day: she definitely had a thing for the black-on-red colour scheme.

"Ooh, Sam you've got to have some pancakes, they're awesome."

"Sure, I'd love some."

And soon enough Sam was eating her own stack of pancakes, her eyes closing in pleasure at the taste, while Julie pushed away her second plate, licked clean. Julie was done for now, the food in her belly was pushing into her formerly baggy nightie and her left hand was unconsciously rubbing the bump. The morning progressed: Alex came downstairs more or less at the same moment Zoe and Isabelle returned from their run. Zoe looked as if she'd just come back from a gentle stroll whereas Isabelle looked exhausted, her clothes drenched in sweat, her breathing still coming in sharp gasps, Zoe was smiling wickedly. While they went to shower and clean-up, Isabelle finding the stairs a daunting challenge, Adam offered cousin number two her breakfast of batter which she accepted gratefully, quickly wolfing down her portion while Julie looked on with surprise, Sam still ploughing through the overfull plate Adam had given her.

"I thought you didn't eat breakfast Alex?" Julie asked, left eyebrow arched.

"I usually don't," Alex said, between mouthfuls (she had better manners than Julie), "But I'm really hungry this morning, no idea why. Plus these are great."

Zoe's parents were down before she and Isabelle returned. Adam caught Laura looking strangely at the pancakes set before her nieces and the small indications that her youngest daughter had not long ago finished her share. Recognising a potential pitfall to the happy meal Adam was quick to apologize to both parents for taking the liberty of their kitchen, being an early riser in a house full of typically late-sleeping students he was used to cooking. Of course once he'd apologised Laura was completely incapable of admitting she was unhappy with the unhealthy fare Adam was peddling and had instead to thank Adam for being so considerate. He couldn't help but feel it was testing the limits of her natural dietary concerns to sit there and drink coffee while her husband joined the rest of the family. She seemed to brighten up when Isabelle and Zoe walked downstairs, Adam thought that perhaps the thought of exercise was cheering her up.

"Girls, good morning. And how was your run?"

"Exhausting," was Isabelle's only reply.

"Pancakes? I find their a good pick-me-up after I run with Zoe. She's quick on her feet." Adam was incorrigible.

Isabelle looked long and hard at the pancakes being eaten around her, Adam even saw her pupils dilate slightly, but it wasn't long before she shook her head and said "No thanks, I really mustn't." Zoe's mother nodded in approval.

Adam gave Zoe a nod and then looked meaningfully at the pancakes, the message was clear, "Eat". Zoe of course subtly shook her head. Adam responded by looking from Zoe to the pancakes to Isabelle and back to Zoe. Finally getting his meaning, Zoe chimed in.

"You really should Izzy, Adam's a great cook. Besides what's the point of exercising if it doesn't give you a chance to enjoy yourself once in a while?"

Now Adam could see Isabelle's resolve waver but he was fairly certain she wasn't going to break and sure enough she once again said no before grabbing an apple and a glass of water. It wasn't ideal but nor was it disastrous. Regardless of Isabelle's answer Zoe still tucked into her pancakes and Adam could see Isabelle and Laura both eyeing her slightly, one with envy and another with surprise.

"So tell me Zoe," Laura began, "when did you become such a keen runner? I can't remember the last time I saw Isabelle look so worn out after a morning jog."

"Jog!" Isabelle snorted through her apple, "That was no jog. We ran most of the way up to Presidio and then came back down along the bay. And she said we should sprint the last mile!"

"Good grief," Zoe's father had finished his breakfast now and was speaking from behind a newspaper, "That's got to be 12 miles. How long did it take you?"

"A little over an hour dad why?"

"Because you should have something more substantial than an apple. I'm sure your mother would agree."

"Yes, yes by all means," Laura said, not really paying attention. Isabelle's eyes lit up at this backhanded approval from her mother and her eyes swung immediately to Adam who quickly began making her a proper breakfast before Laura recanted. "But Zoe you never showed much interest in sport as a child, when did you start?"

"I don't know, when I decided to get in shape I guess. I like running. It's relaxing. You can listen to music or a recorded lecture and just go."

"Well I'm very happy for you dear, it's wonderful you've found such a rewarding way to exercise. I must say it goes some way to explaining how beautiful you look. You could always tell which models were runners and which were just dieters. The runners always had a healthier glow. Isn't that right Izzy?"

It was at this point that Laura turned to see Isabelle, cheeks full of pancake and a droplet of syrup on her lower lip, bent over a steaming fresh plate of calories. Under the sudden pursed-lipped look of her mother Isabelle nodded, seeming a little embarrassed, before swallowing loudly.

"Then again," Laura continued now facing back to Zoe likewise engaged in her pancakes though presenting a much more restrained picture, "There is a lot to be said for a sensible diet."

When breakfast was finally over everyone left for their respective destinations: Isabelle and Alex to work, Sam to class (Christmas break started very late for her) and Julie to hang out with her friends while Zoe's parents went to visit with Laura's mother. They had asked if Zoe wanted to come along with them but Zoe had said she and Adam had planned to explore San Francisco and they didn't press the matter further. Adam caught Zoe giving the "crazy" sign behind her mother's back while indicating a picture of an elderly woman in a photo over the fireplace. Heading out into the crisp but surprisingly mild morning Adam and Zoe made towards the Golden Gate Bridge.

"Right you, time for some answers," Zoe said not 200 yards from the house.

"Of course, who have you decided to pick?"

"Screw that tell me everything!"

"That wasn't the deal."

"Too bad it is now."

"Alright, but on one condition. You've got to find someone while we're out today that I can have some fun with."

"Deal, now what have you done to Isabelle?"

"Are you sure you want to start with Isabelle? There's maths involved."

"Maths? What did you do?"

"Well, aside from taking away the benefits of her exercise and making food taste better,"


"I did it to everyone, nothing big just enough to make them want unhealthy food and dislike salads. I also made your mother want to cook larger portions."

"Brilliant, anyway so Isabelle?"

"Right, well today is going to be a pretty normal day for Isabelle but it's going to set the benchmark. Every day she's going to be magically compelled to eat a little more than the day before."

"How much more?"

"About 5.5%."

"That's it? That's nothing."

"You're not looking at the big picture. 5.5% increase per day."


"Come on Zoe, remedial mathematics. Compound interest."


"Tomorrow Isabelle eats 5.5% more than today. The next she eats 5.5% more than that. Then 5.5% more than that and so. In two weeks she'll have more than doubled her daily intake. In four weeks, more than quadrupled. By the time we go home in five weeks and the magic ends she'll be eating more than six times as much as she does today."

"Wow, that's pretty insane."

"The magic of exponential growth. And magic. In the next five weeks she will eat enough food for 3 and a half months. Minimum. And that's not even the best part."

"It's not?"

"No. The best part is that it propagates."


"It's why I was so keen to make her eat the pancakes. Because now she'll need to eat the equivalent of a slightly larger helping of pancakes every day. Everyone knows a diet doesn't go off the rails because of one indulgence but for your sister any single indulgence will be repeated every day afterwards in steadily increasing quantities."

"She'll be as big as a house! That's genius."

"Thank you. Starting tomorrow Isabelle will feel hungry if she hasn't consumed as many calories as she had at the same time the day before, with interest, and she'll need to satisfy that hunger. Take note of that: she won't feel full, just not hungry. Anything she eats on top of that will be a bonus. And then there's the last nail in the coffin."

"Which is?"

"In two weeks it's Christmas. Everyone overindulges at Christmas, it's just a fact of life. But Isabelle is going to be eating at that same level every single day afterwards."

This final revelation seemed to stun Zoe into silence, as if she was beginning to recognise just what she had unleashed on her unsuspecting family. She was smiling.

They continued to walk together in silence. Adam caught sight of a girl jogging in the opposite direction. Judging by the form fitting nature of her sports bra and the spillage of flesh from the leg holes of her mini-shorts she had gained a fair amount of weight since she bought her exercise gear. A round belly protruded out from underneath the sturdy confines of her bra and bounced and jiggled mercilessly with the girl's footfalls. It poked out over the top her shorts, large enough for the material to bow under the pressure but not quite large enough for it to noticeably hang and obscure the hem. The weight had settled all over her belly and hips to create a soft dome of wiggling fat that stuck out provocatively in front of her. Adam hated to see such a vision of beauty go to waste and so a moment later the girl's pace slowed to a walk and then to a standstill as all energy drained out of her. As Adam passed her by she stood clutching her knees trying to catch her breath and Adam was treated to the sight of her malleable rear pressed tightly into the seat of her shorts in her half-bent position. The outline of her underwear was visibly showing and the material was so stretched Adam could make out the pattern of flowers decorating them. In quick succession the workout clothes became a fashionable skin-tight dress that perfectly hugged every contour of her body, her running shoes became high-heels that caused her butt to jiggle and sway as she walked and the sports bra disappeared entirely leaving her modest but bouncy bust to shake tantalisingly with every movement. A moment later and the girl was holding a massive glazed doughnut in one hand, already unconsciously lifting it to her drooling mouth, an enormous box of two dozen less one scrumptious pastries was tucked under her other arm and Adam made her change direction and head towards an all-you-can-eat buffet he and Zoe had passed on the way. The girl was going to go and stuff herself so full of greasy, rich Chinese food that she would tear the seams in her new dress. Then she would go home and devour all the pastries she had left and then attack with the ravenous hunger of a pack of starving hyenas all of the food in her now extremely well-stocked kitchen until she burst out of the dress entirely. By the time she was done and the food she would soon eat had transformed itself into smooth, creamy flesh across her bulging belly, swelling hips, chunky thighs and resplendent, wriggling rear she would have absolutely no chance of fitting back into her workout gear.

Adam could see in his mind's eye the vision of the girl standing in her room dressed only in a thong that cut into her waist and had rolls of fat billowing over the sides holding her workout shorts, which Adam had courteously returned to her room. She would stick her chubby pink feet through the holes and pull them up her chubby pink thighs. It would be very tight, just like the last time she tried. She would heave and pull and tug on the material, desperately trying to drag the intransigent article of clothing an extra millimetre over the roundness of her hips and the squishy expanse of the twin-orbs jutting out from the small of her back. And as she frantically hopped around her belly would jiggle and jostle, her breasts would swing wildly, threatening to hit her in her face. All the while her wobbling hips and quivering thighs would be shimmying those shorts further away from her goal. She would try desperately for a quarter of an hour, maybe thirty minutes at best. She'd lie flat on the bed and suck in her stomach only to find that she couldn't suck in her hips or her bulbous rear end and eventually she would give up. The shorts would be discarded on top of a pile of outgrown clothes that she was now recognising she was never going to be able to wear again. She'd start to rummage through her drawers for a bra that fit, none of them would and she'd either have to decide to let her girls move to the rhythm of her every step, her every inhalation, or spend the day trying not to breathe too deeply while her tit-flesh oozed out of every corner of her ill-fitting bra. It was a beautiful thought.

"Are you quite finished?" Zoe said, interrupting Adam from his happy imaginings.

"More or less. What about you? We've been wandering in circles for ten minutes so you can pass the viewing window to the gym down the street again and again."

"Oh... You noticed that?"

"Yes. The look on those women's faces when they saw your tight little arse sway past the window was bordering on homicidal. Anyway, I suppose you want to hear more of the fate awaiting your relatives. Who's next?"

"I don't know, you pick."

"That's no fun, I know the answers. Come on it can't be hard."

"Fine, Sam then. It's not more maths is it?"

"No, no more maths. Sam's curse is pretty simple."

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.

Last edited by Mrak on Sat Jun 20, 2015 11:04 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 05, 2012 2:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter IX

"I couldn't help but notice that Sam seemed to live up to the 'fiery redhead' stereotype."

"That's an understatement. There's a reason she chose to go to law school. One day a teacher explained the principles of the 'adversarial system' and that was it, Sam wanted in."

"I thought it would be nice to showcase a more submissive personality."


"Whenever anyone offers Sam food or drink she eats it. No questions, no fuss, no worrying about calories. Assuming that eating the food wouldn't cause serious harm or death, she'll gobble it down."

"So... if I made a giant chocolate cake, as tall as Sam and three feet across and told her to eat it, she would?"

"No, eating that volume of food would rupture her stomach, choke her or something else nasty. Hence no serious harm or death. She'd eat until she couldn't eat anymore."

"And would she go back to it later, when she was hungry again?"

"Possibly, it would depend on what you said in the first place."


"The English language is imprecise and we frequently use it in unclear ways. If you said, "Eat this cake" then she would try, no matter how long it took, to eat your hypothetical cake. Assuming of course it didn't become rotten in the process since then eating it would do her harm. But if you said "Want some cake?" she'd eat until she couldn't eat anymore and then stop. Of course if you offered her a slice of cake and said "Want some cake?" she'd just eat that. It's mostly common sense."

"Why do have to make things so complicated?"

"Oh come on, it's simple. Offer her food, she eats food. Stop being such a wuss."

They were still walking down some street in San Francisco, Adam had lost track of where they were exactly. The sun was bright and quite warm and so when they decided to stop Adam suggested the open-air coffee shop just ahead of them. While Zoe went and got their coffee Adam secured a table in the sun that afforded them a good view of the open square that the coffee shop looked out onto.

Shoooooo *Pop*

Adam looked around for the source of the strange noise, intrigued more than anything else. The source turned out to be rather mundane. Across the square a girl was leaning against a wall with some friends. She was dressed almost solely in black, in a punk-rock rather than goth sort of fashion in a t-shirt, slightly torn, emblazoned with a white logo of what Adam guessed was some sort of band and a pair of Capri pants. The girl had very dark, very straight black hair streaked with red cut to shoulder length so that it hung over her head like a helmet, a diagonal fringe slashing across her left eye.

Shoooooo *Pop*

She was chewing, somewhat incongruously, on bright pink bubblegum. Blowing a mid-sized bubble in front of her face before it burst, covering her lips in pink goo so that she could recollect it and try again.


The girl made her next attempt. He watched from a distance as she began to creep away from the wall, millimetre by millimetre. It was so slow that the girl didn't even shift her position, she just leant a little further back as her shoulders sought to retain contact with the wall.

ooo *Pop*

Zoe sat down with the coffee and caught the look in Adam's eyes. She followed his gaze and saw the group. Adam could see from her face that she was trying to figure out what he was doing. When nothing became apparent she looked at him, as if to say "What?". Adam just smiled and waited.


Again the girl started moving very gently away from the wall. Adam could see other signs now of his little bit of hocus pokus. The t-shirt seemed to be riding up a little at the back and the Capri pants were pulling tighter across the girl's slender though soft stomach. They were even beginning to shimmy up towards her knees, not that the girl was aware of any of this.

ooo *Pop*

Zoe looked confused. In some strange way Adam found that as satisfying as what he was doing to the girl. Adam was also enjoying the sound of shifting fabric as the girl started to fidget slightly against the wall.

Shoooooo *Pop*

"Ha!" Zoe's exclamation was loud enough to attract stares from several other coffee patrons but not to distract the young girl from the important business of bubble-blowing. A triumphant look on her face, combined with a half-amused smile Zoe turned away from the girl and back to Adam.

"Very funny and all but was that really the best you could come up with?"

"Funny, whatever do you mean?"

"Oh give up, 'bubble-butt'?"

Of course Zoe was right. Every time the girl went to blow a bubble she had also been inflating her rump. It had already more than doubled in size, the large, wobbling cheeks had devoured the poor girl's inadequate underwear and were straining the seams on her pants hard enough for several stitches to have already given way. The material was stretched so tightly over her newly enlarged asset that she might as well have been wearing lycra for all it left to the imagination. The fleshy orbs had expanded backwards, each one mimicking a balloon in shape as the new weight gradually accumulated. Adam saw that she was already preparing to blow yet another bubble, one that would very probably leave her globular buttocks protruding two times further behind her than her chest did in front. After a moment's debate Adam elected to leave the spell in place for as long as the girl continued with that piece of gum but figured there was little harm in letting her belly and her breasts take some of the brunt from her over-generous arse.

"Come on, I want to know what you've done to Alex."

Turning his attention away from the girl just as her small breasts started to grow Adam resumed the conversation.

"Alex has had a combination of things done to her. The first is that when she isn't full she's hungry."

"Isn't that redundant?"

"Not really. People often don't eat until their full, they just eat something they think will suffice for a meal and the brain says that they've eaten and so they're not hungry. If Alex isn't full Alex will be hungry and more importantly she'll know she's hungry."

"She'll know she's hungry? Why does that matter?"

"Don't think about pink elephants... What are you thinking about?"

"Orange ducks."


"Fine, pink elephants obviously."

"You're hungry what do you think about?"


"So Alex will always be thinking about food."

"Okay. How hungry will she be?"

"Not very, she'll just want to eat."

"But what if all she does is eat slightly larger meals? She'll eat a little more, be full, and hardly gain any weight at all."

"Enter phase two. Alex digests food at a highly accelerated rate. All the energy and nutrients from food she eats will be taken to their proper place in about thirty minutes, maybe three-quarters of an hour if she's had a very big meal."

"So? What good does that do?"

"Well only thirty minutes after eating Alex won't be full anymore, so she'll be hungry and she'll want to eat again. Secondly, when she does eat any weight gain she would experience will happen in minutes rather than hours. If you convinced her to eat your giant hypothetical cake you could watch her get fatter before your eyes."

"Really? Cool! But she wouldn't eat the giant cake. She won't eat anything. She's a T.V. weather forecaster, she has to stand full-body in front of a camera multiple times a day and she'd never want to look fat on screen."

"It's a test of will sure. But the thing about willpower is that it has a limit. Being hungry is wearing, it's like a constant niggle in the back of your mind. And don't forget she is going to eat at some point. She'll feel full and then half an hour later she'll be hungry again. So she'll get momentary relief and then it will come back as strong as ever. She'll break I promise you. Hunger is not something humans are designed to ignore for very long."

"Fair enough. So what about Julie?"

"Hang on, there's still one little thing left for Alex. Just some added amusement."

"Oh? What?"

"Like I said whatever weight she gains will be very soon after she eats and so for a little extra fun I decided that when she puts on weight the spell first evaluates what article of clothing she's wearing is the tightest on her body and it puts all the weight in that area."

"So if she was wearing really tight jeans she'd get fatter thighs and a bigger butt?"

"Precisely. And if the jeans were loose in the leg but tight in the seat just her butt and likewise the other way around and so on."

"That's hilarious! Where do you come up with this stuff?"

"I don't know. I get ideas floating around that I like the sound of, I think about ways to make them actually work and here we are."

Adam was about to finish by telling Zoe the fate awaiting her younger sister when he noticed a man standing in the middle of the square with a camera. He was slowly rotating around, camera at his eye and every once in a while he would take a quick series of pictures. Interested in what the man was doing Adam used some magic to see through the lens of the camera. What he found was quite surprising. The camera had a very high-level zoom and the man was using it to take photographs of attractive women. He was completely ignoring faces, focusing entirely on exposed cleavage, tight skirts, and every other secondary sexual characteristic known to man. Adam got something of a shock when he saw Zoe's face through the lens of the camera. It wasn't long of course before Zoe's face had disappeared from view and all that could be seen was a highly magnified view of her extraordinary, magically crafted rack. The more Adam watched the more irritated he became with the lecherous pervert, partly because he was taking photos of unsuspecting women and partly because he seemed to be frighteningly fat-phobic. As he panned over a young girl, probably no older than 17, with rather impressive breasts not-so-tastefully displayed in a very tight tube top who was also gifted with a somewhat pudgy midsection that hung gently over her skirt the whole camera swung violently away to the other side of the square where a rail thin woman built like a bean-pole was sipping a coffee. Again and again Adam watched as the camera seemed almost to flee from any sign of excess weight. Thick thighs, puffy middles, wide hips, protruding posteriors, he seemed to hate them all. A rather appropriate revenge occurred to Adam and a moment later the camera had a new and very exciting function.

While Adam had been investigating the photographer he had distracted Zoe by subtly drawing the attention of several men in the surrounding environs to her stunning beauty. As usual Zoe had relished in the attention, wasting no time in giving the happy men a quick display of her feminine charms. She was still occupied when Adam left the camera and turned back to the square.

The man found his next subject, a striking blonde in a black dress that barely came down to the top of her twig-like thighs and wrapped snugly around her shapely, toned rear while the plunging neckline framed her modest breasts.


Adam heard the camera shutter's faint click and watched in amusement as the girl began to grow. He had clearly taken a shot of her chest as she walked towards him, the five extra pounds that the photograph had added to the young woman's frame had started with her breasts jumping up half a cup size and then radiated out to subtly soften her jaw-line, add the slightest extra wiggle to her arms, and give her dress a little extra middle to wrap around.

*Click* *Click*

Two more photographs, ten more pounds and now her breasts were noticeably oozing out of her dress's low neck and the lack of a bra and the woman's quick stride in her high heels had her enlarged mammaries bouncing deliciously. The woman would perhaps have been less thrilled to see the rest of her body joining in on the fun. There was a noticeable but minor change to the shape of her face. Gone now were the angular, high-cheekbones replaced by a softer, more oval face with somewhat rounded cheeks. Her bare arms, so bronzed and toned when she had entered the square were now just bronzed. She swung them gently back and forth as she walked and every time she reached her arc's zenith the new layer of adipose on her arms elected to keep on going. To the casual observer it would have been nothing, a trick of the eye even, but Adam of course was no casual observer. Her stomach had become much more pronounced, as with her breasts largely because of the tightness of her dress. Poking noticeably outwards now from beneath her bountiful new bosom the little potbelly the photographer had helped craft was shaking with every step. The dress was stretched taut across her midriff, the indentation of her navel visible even on the black fabric, and nothing was left to the imagination from the puffy layer of fat showing off her panty-line to the nascent love-handles adorning her sides that hadn't existed mere moments ago. The woman passed the lecherous eye of the camera, it's owner oblivious to his target's expansion, removing her breasts from the line of fire and instead presenting her small posterior, delicately wrapped in her increasingly tight dress, to his eager trigger finger.

*Click* *Click* *Click* *Click*

Even Adam was unprepared for the rapidity of the girl's growth. Twenty new pounds of delicious plumpness striking the young woman like a nuclear bomb with her rump at the epicentre. Her arse exploded with new blubber, rather than simply joining her body's rhythmic sway it decided to strike its own tempo, bouncing and wobbling and wiggling inside her dress in such an extraordinarily sexy manner that Adam was stunned. It had grown outwards and sideways, her slim hips flaring out as well from beneath the love-handles until they were at least three inches further across than they had been. Her dress was somewhat less impressed with this new shape. Completely incapable of containing this alien body and under continual bombardment from flesh jiggling in every direction the dress responded by shimmying up to thinner, safer ground around the waist and away from the all-consuming buttocks. As the dress rose a few inches in only a handful of strides Adam caught a peek of the girl's dark red underwear which was itself rapidly receding betwixt her cheeks and he could see too the now much plumper thighs squished together in the too small dress. Sadly for the girl her waist was still close enough to take some of the damage and apart from the even more pronounced belly that was just visible when it swung in Adam's direction her baby love-handles had both grown and spread to create enticing handholds on her blossoming form.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily depending on the viewpoint, the photographer's attention was seized by a slinky pair of legs drifting across his shot just as he was about to take another few snaps of the chubby blonde's bodacious bum. In a few quick clicks those legs had just melted away under a creamy layer of smooth soft fat quivering in the woman's skinny jeans while her new belly strove valiantly to pop the button and free itself. They were hardly the only two victims of the afternoon. The sudden appearance of new admirers had completely dislodged Zoe's train of thought and she was talking to Adam now about some party she had gone to before the end of term, recounting with delight the scores of men and women awed by and envious of her lustrous beauty and so Adam was able to sit and listen, occasionally chiming in when Zoe had to breathe, and watch the parade of thin women soften under the unknowing guidance of the thin-obsessed man and his magic camera. There was the young mother dressed in dark blue slacks and a white blouse whose child, sitting in a stroller, chose a rather opportune moment to throw one of his toys to the ground. The dutiful mother had immediately bent down to retrieve the colourful object, electing to bend at the waist rather than at the knee. The flurry of photographs that followed left the formerly fit mummy sporting a hefty rear-end that had already popped several stitches and was one ill-conceived stretch away from sending a six-inch tear down the seat of her once-loose fitting trousers. And that was to say nothing of the new belly that came with the package, pushing out from underneath the blouse and poking between the buttons. A trio of college students, among the few people Adam had seen dressed appropriately for mid-December, all took a sizeable bag of new chub as every part of their lithe bodies got a little bit fatter, a little bit less firm. Then there had been a veritable smorgasbord of busty women displaying generous cleavage that the man had been unable to resist, giving rise to a host of over-endowed shoppers with tops and sweaters and dresses stretched to near see-through over tremendous boobs and wrapped tightly about newly acquired tummies that ranged in size, depending on the exuberance of the man's finger, from gentle starter bellies foretelling roundness soon to come under careful administration of good, rich food, to bloated stomachs that protruded almost as far as the colossal busts and swayed and shook in unison with the often unrestrained breasts. Adam had particularly enjoyed one especially large belly that seemed to have gained just the right consistency for her fat to ripple as she walked as though her footfalls heralded the approach of some gigantic monster and her chubby middle was the clichéd glass of water.

It was a full half hour after the blonde's departure from the square before Zoe noticed what Adam had done and what the cameraman was continuing to do, and another minute or so before she realised exactly what had happened.

"How long has that been going on?"

"A while I guess, it was fun."

"Jesus, you really are in a strange mood."


"First the bubblegum and now this."

"I don't see what you mean?"

"Oh you know the saying, 'The camera adds 10lbs'."

"Yeah, that occurred to me afterwards but it's not why I did it, just a happy coincidence."

"Well, save your energy. Tell me about Julie's weight gain and then I'll find you someone to play with."

"Alright. The magic I used on Julie is rather nice actually. Whenever she denies herself food that she wants to eat, be it a chocolate bar or a cookie or some ice cream or seconds of dinner she's compelled to eat it. In fact she's compelled to eat twice as much as she denied herself. Additionally, whenever she worries about her weight, her diet, or anything of that nature a little magical counter ticks up by one. It only counts separate instances, so fretting twice over the same thing won't affect it again."

"Okay, then what?"

"The first time after the stroke of midnight each day she's alone in her room she'll eat as many snacks as the value of the counter and when she's done the counter will reset for the next day. If she's awake then she'll just get the urge to eat and keep on eating until she's done but if she's already in bed she'll eat her entire quota in a sleeping trance. Of course she won't clean up after herself when she's sleep-eating and so she'll wake up with wrappers scattered around her and chocolate smeared on her lips causing her to worry more about her figure and further add to the counter for the following night."

"That's evil. Wait a minute, where's she getting the snacks from?"

"From the hidden stash of chocolate and sweets she has in her room."

"What? She has hidden chocolate?"

"Yes, didn't you know? I did a mental sweep of all food in your house when I arrived, to see what I had to work with. One of the first things I did was make Julie's little stash of junk food continually replenish itself."

"But why would she hide chocolate? There's snacks and stuff in the house."

"That your mother knows are there and which she keeps an eye on."


"You didn't realise? Every time she opens the cupboard with the snacks in her eyes do a little sweep over the contents, she's checking inventory. I can't believe you didn't know, I'd have thought she'd been doing it all your life."

"She probably has, but she never gave a damn about my eating. I was plain and already chubby what harm would a few sweets do me? And besides, I didn't eat many snacks anyway, I always preferred dessert."

"Well she clearly keeps an eye on Julie. She's rather keen for her to join Isabelle in the world of modelling. A pity really."

"Why a pity? Julie would love to be a fashion model, she always loved hearing about Isabelle's adventures as she travelled the globe."

"Maybe, but from what I've seen I think she'd rather follow in your footsteps."


"Yes. I think she'd like to go to college, probably to study Physics and definitely as far from home as possible."


"Have you even seen her room?"

"I caught a glimpse of it. I saw a few pictures of her cheerleading, at the beach, at some parties with friends. There were some posters, some band I've never heard of and 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' I think."

"And the bookshelf?"

"There were books."

"Authors? Titles?"

"I don't know, they were books."

"Hawking, Feynman, Ian Stewart. Particle physics, introductory calculus, electrodynamics, even some popular science stuff. Quite heavy reading and definitely beyond a high-school syllabus. They're the sort of books science geeks like me read at that age."

"Really? I suppose she was always good at maths as a kid. She's never even talked to me about this."

"Well I think you need to talk to her. Some of the papers on her desk are college and university prospectus pamphlets, but they're hidden under a million other things and given that no one's made any mention of it I'm not sure the rest of your family even know."

"Yeah, I guess I'd better. You know I forget sometimes how scarily good you are at reading people."

"It's not that hard with a little magic."

"Maybe, but I'm not convinced, you've definitely got a talent for it. It occurs to me though that getting fat might be good for Julie."

"How so?"

"Well if she and everyone else get fat maybe mum will abandon the modelling thing."

"If our little games can have a long-term positive effect so much the better."

"Anyway, let's get out of here, you've done enough damage to the area and there's somewhere I want to go before we head back."


"You have your secrets and I have mine."

"Always such a mysterious woman."

"A bit rich coming from you."

By the time the argument had ended Adam and Zoe were long shot of the little square and heading further and further north. Adam had no idea where they were going, and he wasn't bothered enough to try and extract it from Zoe's mind, but he was beginning to put some pieces together.

"Where exactly did you and Isabelle run this morning?"

"Oh for god's sake! How do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Work out what I'm doing before I even tell you. How could you possibly know I was running near here this morning? Were you spying on me?"

"No, it just made sense. You've never been to San Francisco before, same as me, but you're heading somewhere specific. I figured there was a chance you'd come across it this morning. I didn't know anything, until you confirmed it."

"Well, you're annoying." Zoe didn't seem all that angry in truth, exasperated perhaps, but not angry.

"It doesn't really matter anyway, we're here."

'Here' turned out to be a bakery. Zoe quickly explained that she had passed it that morning with Isabelle and had been amazed at the array of sugary delights in the windows. Even at the ungodly hour she had been running there had already been a half dozen customers eagerly queueing for their calorie fix and none of them had looked especially thin. However, rather than heading inside Zoe suggested that they sit on the bench that was just opposite. She said she couldn't think of a better place to find Adam a project than in front of an obviously excellent patisserie. She was more right than she knew. Within moments Adam had already increased the strength of the wonderful bakery smells that drifted out of the shop by a hundred-fold for anyone passing within two metres of the door and judging by the sudden uptick in business after their arrival the bakery's intoxicating aroma was ensnaring more than a few passers-by. They had been sitting on the bench for maybe twenty minutes, talking about Adam's little trick with the camera, when Zoe suddenly exclaimed:

"I've got them!"

"Got who?"

"Your next victims! They're coming round the corner in a minute."


"Two girls, one blonde, tall, thin and the other with brown frizzy hair, about a head shorter, thin but with a quite well-padded ass and not as fit as the tall one."

"And what makes them so perfect?"

"Well they're gay."

"Wonderful and everything, good for them, but why does that matter?"

"I owed you from the plane."

"You mean that air hostess?"


"You didn't owe me a lesbian. That's silly."

"Oh just shut up and look, then you can decide whether you want them or if I have to find you somebody else."

And so Adam looked. Just as Zoe had said they appeared round the corner, hand in hand. They were talking together about people, places, some party, meaningless to Adam, and giggling somewhat. The blonde certainly was quite tall. 5' 10", hair half way down her back, athletically built. Her curves were modest, made to seem less by her height, but she was quite pretty and very well dressed. Her girlfriend was about 5' 4", as thin as the blonde at the waist but a little curvier elsewhere, especially in the rear as Zoe had mentioned. In spite of everything though Adam wasn't convinced, then they passed the bakery.

"Ooooo," the brown-haired girl, Anne, sighed, "That smells lovely. Come on Fiona let's go in a grab a little something."

"No." Fiona said the word with a certain finality, Anne looked upset. "Sorry sweetie, you were the one who told me that you wanted to diet. And who found who at 3am in the kitchen dressed in their underwear sneaking cookies they'd hidden under the sink? We don't need to go into the bakery, after all you don't want this getting any bigger do you?" And with that Fiona gave Anne's chunky backside a playful slap.

Adam had only one word: "Perfect."

Adam was thinking fast. He had already formulated an idea of what he wanted to do, now he was just trying to fine tune it. Oddly enough a completely separate idea occurred to him at the same time.

"Zoe, go into the bakery and get the largest chocolate cake you can find, or whatever looks the most fattening. Then I need to know about your parents' friends here."

"Their friends? Whatever for?"

"An idea I just had, not important right now, go get the cake."

"What are you going to do?"

"Play a little game with Anne and Fiona. Don't worry, it won't take very long, I'll be done before you get back."

"Okay, have fun."

Once Zoe was gone Adam forced himself into the girls' minds and got them to sit down on the bench next to his. No sooner had their bums hit the wood than the two girls fell sound asleep, rapidly drifting into the dream world that Adam found so useful and only he controlled.

Fiona and Anne were standing in a large, warm, well-appointed room. There was a roaring fire, several comfortable looking chairs and a heavy oak desk. Standing behind the desk was Adam.

"Hello Fiona, Anne. Welcome."

"Who the hell are you?" Fiona asked.

"Me, why I'm just a man who enjoys a good game. And you two are here to play. Well, I say play, perhaps compete would be the more accurate term."

"What are you talking about?" Fiona asked, Anne appeared to have been struck dumb.

"I say exactly what I mean. I brought the two of you here to participate in a little competition. Would you like to hear the rules?"

"No, I want you to let us out of here!"

"I'm sorry but that's quite impossible. Look around, there are no doors."

Both girls whirled around hoping Adam was lying or mistaken. He wasn't. There weren't even any windows.

"Now I'll ask again, would you like to hear the rules?"

"Please," Anne had regained her voice, "How do we get out?"

"By playing the game. When all is done the two of you will be free to go."

"Fine," Fiona snorted, "What's the game?"

"It's a weight gain competition. You will each be given two weeks and an unlimited supply of food and your goal will be to gain as much as you can in that time. Whoever gains the most weight wins."

Both girls were staring at Adam now, mouths hanging open in slack-jawed astonishment.

"The winner will be returned to their original weight. The loser will retain the weight they've gained as well as gaining all the weight their partner previously had and as a further penalty for losing, twice the difference between the amount they've gained and the amount their girlfriend gained."

Still shocked silence.

"I see. Perhaps an example to illustrate? Suppose, for instance, that after two weeks you Fiona had gained 15lbs and you Anne had gained 20lbs. Then Anne would have won and so would instantly lose those 20lbs. Since Fiona lost she would gain Anne's 20lbs plus twice the difference in your gains, so a further 10lbs, bringing her total gain to 45lbs. You see?"

"Why on earth are you doing this you sick, twisted lunatic!" Fiona began ranting and raving, hurling obscenities and curse words at Adam like they were grenades. Adam took it as a good sign that she didn't think he was kidding. While Fiona screamed herself blue in the face Anne merely appeared contemplative. After a minute or two of quiet thought amid Fiona's sonorous expletives she tugged at Fiona's sleeve. Adam was amused to see that she was smiling.


"Don't you see? It's so easy. All we have to do is not compete. If neither of us gains any weight then the loser won't fat. As long as we don't eat, nothing will happen and then we can go home."

"You're right," Fiona said, sounding pleased, "So you sick fuck what do you have to say to that?"

"That it is a very astute observation but there are a few additional facts you should be aware of:
Firstly, this is a weight gain competition and as such weight loss will not be tolerated. Any player who, at the end of two weeks, weighs less than when they arrived will return to their original weight and gain an additional 20lbs for every pound they lost. They will also almost certainly have lost the competition and as such they will receive the loser's penalties.
Secondly, whether you choose to eat or not you will be part of the game. For two weeks the only thing you will be able to do is eat or lay around doing nothing. It's amazing how boredom can lead to hunger, especially in a room full of your favourite foods.
Thirdly, and this is by far the most important aspect of the game, the two of you will not be in the same room. For the duration of the competition you will have no contact with each other and you will not know the other's progress. When you leave this place you will have no memory of it and whichever of you, if either of you, leaves here fatter you will not remember that it was because you lost the competition.
So yes, by all means either of you may choose to not compete but you have to ask yourself if you're certain your partner will do the same.
I understand that this must all be very difficult to take in. I'll give you both a few minutes to talk before you're separated. Once your conversation ends the game will begin."

And with that Adam vanished into thin air, leaving the two bewildered girls staring at the empty space he had previously occupied.

"Fiona," Anne began quickly, "Nothing's changed. Do you remember Econ class freshman year?"

"Vaguely, what about it?"

"A lesson we had on game theory, specifically the Prisoners' Dilemma."

"The what?"

"Two prisoners are being questioned separately by the police. If they both remain silent they each get 6 months jail time, if the both talk they each get 2 years, if one talks and the other remains silent the guy who talks goes free and the guy who kept quiet gets 5 years."

"Yeah, I remember, sort of."

"The best outcome for the two of them is to stay silent. It's the same here. As long as we both maintain a steady weight we leave like none of this ever happened."

"Okay..." Fiona sounded a little unsure, Adam could see that her anger had really been a mask for fear.

"And better yet, this guys clearly wants us to eat. I don't really care why but I know it will annoy him if we don't."

"Yeah." She sounded stronger at the thought.

"We'll get through this."


The two girls embraced, Adam gave them a few moments and then they disappeared from his erstwhile office.

They each awoke in a strange room, each identical though they had no way of knowing. It was well-lit, beautifully furnished, just like the office. Unlike the office there was a bed and a washroom and, most significantly, a table laden with food. The table was enormous, infinite in fact. Over five metres across it stretched in either direction as far as the eye could see. As both girl's continued to look they could see more beds, the first just a few hundred feet away, and more washrooms stretching on and on and on. The spread of food on the tables was extraordinary, quite literally like nothing Fiona or Anne had ever seen or imagined in real-life or in fiction. Every conceivable confection covered every square inch of the white linen table cloth. Pies, cakes, pastries, buns, biscuits, ice-creams, parfaits, chocolates, cheesecakes, sundaes, sponges, sweets and all in every imaginable flavour. Both girls were suitably awed by the sight in front of them but having only moments ago vowed not to eat they retreated to the nearest beds, lay down, and stared obstinately at the ceiling. Adam had expected as much, he had even been hoping for it.

After leaving them alone for about twenty minutes both girls were already bored out of their skulls. Anne had started singing but the sound of her voice echoing down the enormous hallway quickly quieted her until she was barely humming. Fiona had abandoned the bed and explored the washroom. Then gone back to the bed. Then explored the table of food. She had picked up a pie and thrown it against the wall where it had landed with a resolute splat only to reappear back on the table.

"Now, now," Adam said appearing beside her, "You can't waste food here. If you want to get rid of it you'll have to eat it."

Fiona took a swing at him, before the blow had a chance to hit him Adam disappeared and reappeared at her other side.

"Temper, temper. I must say Anne really had you pegged."


"Your parting conversation. She knew exactly what to say."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she knows you are a competitive person, a combative person if you're honest with yourself. You'd never willingly lose at anything, even a competition you don't want to take part in and so your girlfriend convinces you that by not eating you will beat me. Very clever I must say."

"I know what you're trying to do, you're trying to trick me into eating."

"No, no dear I simply want to make it a fair fight. After all Anne is eating to her heart's content in the other room, why should you be denied the same pleasure?"

"You're lying! Anne wouldn't eat, she wouldn't lie to me."

"Well I suppose you would know best. Personally though I would have thought it was a marvellous prospect for anyone. The chance to eat as much as you want and have none of the ugly repercussions and then at the end of the game when your memories are modified you wouldn't remember that she'd betrayed you. She wouldn't even remember. No guilt, no consequences of her duplicity, an intriguing thought isn't it? But you yourself said it, Anne wouldn't take such an opportunity would she? It's not as if she likes to eat is it? I mean, if she was the sort of person to sneak food or regularly cheat on a diet then you might have some cause to worry but clearly you know what you're doing. Anyway I'd best be going. By the way, before I go, you will have to eat something while you're here, I'm sure you've realised that, may I recommend the éclairs. They're very good."

Adam disappeared again smiling broadly. His tactics had been obvious and ham-fisted, in many respects he was embarrassed to have made such a blunt attack on the girl's trust in her partner, but it was, regrettably, the best line to take. Fiona was not especially bright, more subtle machinations would have failed or taken far too long. Instilling reasonable doubt and then fanning the ensuing paranoia took only seconds and, to a mind as emotional and irrational as Fiona's, was guaranteed to produce the desired effect. Mentioning her favourite treat had merely been a little extra encouragement. They would be her first bite but they wouldn't be the last. Convincing Anne on the other hand would require a different approach, slightly more logical.

"Hello Anne." Adam had appeared beside her bed. The sudden sound shocked her into sitting upright.

"What do you want?"

"Merely to congratulate you."

"Congratulate me?"

"Yes, on your masterful ploy."

"Ploy? What ploy?"

"Why convincing Fiona not to eat of course! The Prisoners' Dilemma, very nice. I wouldn't be surprised if it bought you a full week's head start."

"What do you mean head start? We're not eating, neither of us is."

"Oh. Oh so you meant what you said? I do apologise, when you mentioned the Prisoners' Dilemma I just naturally assumed... Oh well my mistake I had better be going."

"Wait! What did you assume?"

"Well, you used the example as an analogy, an imperfect one it must be said but still meritorious. I assumed that you understood its full implications."

"How do you mean?"

"That the logical move for both prisoners is actually to talk."

"What! The logical move is to stay quiet, it produces the best outcome."

"I see, you really do believe that what you said to your girlfriend was the truth. You have an admirable view of humanity."

"But it is the best choice. It's obvious."

"Not to me. One can argue that both prisoners keeping mum produces the optimal group result but no rational man would ever choose to stay silent."

"Why not?"

"Because the risk is too great. If they stay silent they get 6 months or 5 years, if they talk they get freedom or 2 years. Since they have no knowledge of and can in no way influence the other's decision they must, in the perfectly rational scenario, act so as to minimise their own risk. Here it's the same thing. If you don't eat you either leave unscathed or gain treble whatever Fiona does. If you do eat then you either get away clean or only gain about double the weight, and given everything you've got the better chance of winning. Doesn't seem like a difficult choice to me."

"That makes no sense."

"Of course it does, and moreover you know it. I wonder how long it will be before Fiona figures it out?"

"Just stop that right now, you're not going to convince me that Fiona is going to eat."

"Why would she, when you did such an excellent job of turning a competition between the two of you into an allied battle against me?"


"Oh yes, you conned her completely. She may genuinely not participate, which would be a first let me tell you."

"She won't eat. And neither will I."

"Very good, I'll leave you then. Although, do you mind me asking one question?"


"Why not?"

"Why not? Because it's wrong! Because I said I wouldn't! Because I won't betray Fiona!" Anne was yelling now.

"Please don't take offense, I meant none. What I simply meant was, I can see you're a girl who loves her food. Judging by the way those clothes are fitting I'd say you put on a little weight recently, say 3lbs in the last fortnight or so."

Anne fidgeted on her bed, readjusting her clothes, her cheeks flushed red.

"And I can see by your reaction that you're not happy about it either. Here you have a chance to really indulge, to eat whatever you want and, given young Fiona's utter faith in your lie, get away with it scot-free. Where's the downside in eating?"

"It doesn't matter if there's a downside or not, it's just wrong."

"It's a pity really."

Adam's smile was broader now, his voice a little deeper, less conciliatory.

"What's a pity?"

"Well in truth I always knew you weren't going to budge because of anything I said. Your logic is flawed but it's because of your own morals so even when I present a properly reasoned argument you can't accept it simply because it's 'wrong'."

Anne looked rather smug.

"So, if there was nothing I could say I reasoned there might be something I could do."

The smugness vanished.


"I talked to Fiona. You are, for the most, rational and sensible. She is not. So I told her everything I just told you. The trick you played on her, the truth about the Prisoners' Dilemma, and I even reminded her that you have a history of cheating on your diets. So tell me, do you still think she's going to stick to your little plan?"

Anne's face was a picture, shock and anguish and fear and rage all rolled into one.

"If you change your mind about eating I know you're a fan of chocolate truffle torte and it just so happens there's a prime example in the middle of the table. If not, well I suppose 3lbs won't seem like such a comparison."

As Adam disappeared Anne was already heading for the table. She had tried to rewrite the rules, Adam had set them right. Anne had only two choices now, eat or get fat and judging by the chocolatey crumbs already touching the corners of her mouth she wasn't keen on the second option.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.

Last edited by Mrak on Sat Jun 20, 2015 11:41 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 05, 2012 7:36 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter X

Fiona was full. Her fury at being deceived so easily, deceived by someone she cared about so much, had driven her to go far beyond her normal limits. It had started with an éclair, one of those enormous éclairs half as long as her forearm and thicker around than her slender wrist that that asshole Adam had pointed to when he left. Fiona didn't eat sweets but nor for that matter did she abide by a strict diet. She had found a rhythm to her meals that suited her lifestyle and allowed her, with some time at the gym, to maintain her lust-inspiring figure. But once or twice a month perhaps, when she craved something sugary, she would usually get an éclair from the bakery Anne had first introduced her to. Éclairs were Fiona's weakness. She supposed everyone must have one somewhere but éclairs were definitely hers. This is not to say that Fiona had much difficulty controlling the urge to eat them on a daily basis, far from it. There was a cost to every choice and if being stunning and thin meant sacrificing a little food then it was a small price to pay in Fiona's mind. But here in this strange room everything was upside down. Fiona's only hope of preserving the body she worked so hard for was to ruin it. And looking at her bloated stomach Fiona was both pleased and frightened at how good a start she had made, and it had all started with that first éclair.

Even just picking up the thing had had a strange sense of occasion, even reverence, about it. It was so long that she had to hold it with both hands and so large that she had actually stopped to think about how best to eat it. Even as Fiona hesitated over whether she was making a terrible mistake her nose had caught a whiff, a faint aroma of freshly-baked éclair rising over the extraordinarily broad and varied tableau of food surrounding her. Her mouth had started to water and all thoughts of guilt had been driven to the back of her mind. The first bite of that gigantic éclair had been a revelation. It was, without reservation or hyperbole, the best thing she had ever tried. An involuntary moan of ecstasy had escaped her lips. The pastry was the perfect consistency, light and fluffy, and so moist and sugary Fiona thought it might actually be infused with cream. The cream itself was nothing less than divine, incredibly sweet in a way Fiona had never experienced and which was, if possible, improved by the contrasting bitter hint of the dark chocolate thickly slathered on top. The éclair had been at least four times larger than one she would have usually bought for herself but Fiona ate it in well under half the time and, whether because her fear and anger were fuelling her hunger or the intoxicating taste of the éclair had addled her mind, Fiona couldn't stop herself from grabbing the next one from the platter. Or the next one. Or the one after that.

Now the plate was reduced to crumbs and Fiona was licking her lips and fingers clean of cream. She had eaten half a dozen éclairs. An acute sense of fullness pervaded her entire being, with unfamiliar undercurrents of dull pain and contented drowsiness. She patted her stomach a few times experimentally, a mixture of surprise and disgust spread across her face as she felt the incongruous bulge.

"Well," she had mumbled to herself, "I guess this is gonna be my life for a while. Why did this have to happen? Why did Anne try to trick me?"

She started towards the nearest bed, eager for rest while she digested her meal, when her nose detected a smell, that smell she had become so enamoured of, the smell of éclairs. Fiona's mouth started to water.

"Well, well. And to think I teased Anne about being a little piggy. What would she say if she saw me now?"

Fiona followed her nose, walking as gently as she could to avoid jostling her stomach, which seemed to feel fuller and heavier with each passing moment, and found, not a dozen yards from the first, a second platter of large chocolate éclairs, each looking as delectable and scrumptious as their predecessors. Privately revolted at herself but bowing to necessity and unacknowledged base desire Fiona grabbed the second set of six and took it to the nearest bed and closed her eyes. Lying down she felt some of the pressure ease off her stomach, the pain of her fullness ebbed away slightly, and with only a moment's thought as to the wrongness of it Fiona groped for the platter and set it atop her rounded belly, wincing slightly at the coolness and the weight. As the smell wafted towards her face again Fiona let out a small sigh. Both of her hands were already ferrying another éclair to her waiting mouth. Though she was loathed to admit it, Fiona had to confess that this hellish nightmare had its upsides.

Anne was full. Well, sort of full. She wasn't hungry anyway. Usually eating was a pleasure for Anne, something she relished and rationed, but the nagging sense of guilt over breaking her promise to Fiona was tainting the experience. It was stupid really, she knew she didn't have a choice. It would have been wonderful, fancifully romantic even, to imagine that Fiona would have seen through that strange man's deceptions and believed in her but that was not Fiona. Fiona was passionate, intemperate, and headstrong. Quick to anger, quick to laugh was a phrase Anne had used many times to describe her and it was one of the many, many things that Anne loved about Fiona. She was just so unlike herself that it made every day with Fiona that much more of an adventure, even after the years they'd known each other. Unfortunately that same reckless approach to life would have rendered her easy prey to someone as powerful as the man who'd brought them here. As far as Anne knew he'd only met them a few hours ago, or it could have been less, and yet he'd known immediately how to press his attack. He would have convinced Fiona to participate, just as he had convinced her to do the same. That was a problem. Anne's immediate reaction had been to eat, and she had eaten plenty. Half a chocolate cake, a slice of apple pie à la mode, and several very large slices of a particularly sumptuous strawberry cheesecake had all passed Anne's lips but the sight of a large tray of éclairs, Fiona's favourites, had given her pause and now Anne was lying back on a bed, left hand idly tracing the slight dome of her tummy. She had two choices really, she could hold back on her eating, deliberately lose the competition and probably get significantly fat as a result or she could stuff herself as much as she was able, win the competition and let Fiona take the brunt of her excesses. The first option was fraught with problems, like that fact that Anne didn't particularly want to be fat. Then there was the matter of judging how far she could go. From what she remembered of the rules there was a 2lb penalty for every 1lb difference in their gains so if she tried to hold back and Fiona went at her characteristic full speed who knew how much she would end up gaining. Of course option two came with its own problems, moral and otherwise, but the thought of staying thin was undeniably attractive. Attractive, now that really was the heart of the matter.

Anne and Fiona had lived together for going on a year now, and they had been dating for over two, ever since Fiona, the gorgeous blonde bombshell decked to the nines in tight leather pants and dark red tube top, had asked her, little wallflower Anne so plain by comparison, to dance in the club where they had first met. And in all that time Anne didn't think Fiona's weight had fluctuated half a pound. Whether by genetics, diet, exercise or luck Fiona simply maintained her weight. The same was not true of Anne. A chart of Anne's weight would have had more peaks and valleys than a mountain range. Weight crept up on Anne, like it had crept up on her recently. It was just so easy for her to put off a visit to the gym or treat herself to a little extra something and before she knew it there'd be an extra 10lbs slathered around her lower half. Then she'd panic, diet for a few weeks, exercise regularly until her weight returned to normal and she'd ease off, grow complacent, and the whole cycle started again. Now Anne wasn't especially tall and so an extra 10lbs was not an easy thing to hide but the regularity of her "fat days" meant that Anne had a fairly good selection of "fat clothes" and by and large no one ever noticed her failings, except of course for Fiona. Regardless of how she might try to hide it there was simply no way to cover herself during their more intimate moments. However, Fiona was a good person. She was never judgemental about her weight, she never commented on Anne's gains, she just supported her and Anne loved her for it. Except... When the two of them had sex and Anne's weight was on the rise Fiona had a tendency to... grab on to some of that excess. She would dig her fingers a little harder than usual into her fleshier backside, her fingers would lightly pinch the excess adipose around her hips and when they spooned Fiona's hand would sometimes gently sink into the thin ring of fat around her stomach. Anne didn't know why Fiona did these things or if she did it on purpose but it always made her acutely aware of the weight she had gained and it invariably shattered any illusions she might cling to that Fiona hadn't yet noticed. Such nights invariably led to a diet starting the following morning, which Fiona would always whole-heartedly support. Her support was invaluable, without Fiona's frequent reminders and gentle chastisements Anne's diets would take a lot longer and be far less effective, but a part of Anne couldn't help but feel that Fiona wanted her to lose weight because she didn't want a chubby girlfriend. It was this, more than anything, that was compelling Anne to eat, to "win". She knew how much she loved Fiona and she knew it wouldn't be affected by Fiona getting fat. She would still be the same wonderful person she wanted to be with and she would still look beautiful. Anne wasn't so convinced it would work the other way around though. If she were the fat one, or rather if she got even fatter, how could Fiona, goddess that she was, truly be attracted to her? Anne still wondered, every once in a while, why someone so stunning was slumming it with a girl like her but knew in her heart that Fiona loved her and that she was just extraordinarily lucky. But there really was no choice. Anne couldn't risk her relationship with Fiona, it was too important. To be sure that they stayed together Anne had to get fat now. That was what mattered, that was all that mattered. The conclusion brought a measure of peace to Anne. The decision was made, there would be no looking back. Instead Anne went looking for the remainder of the chocolate cake.

Fiona was full. And getting fuller by the minute. She didn't know how long she had been trapped in the bizarre room full of food. There were no windows, no clocks, no way to measure time. At first she had thought she might measure time by her meals and her sleeping patterns by assuming that every three meals and a night's rest was one day but that had quickly fallen apart. Adam, Fiona couldn't even think that name without mentally spewing venom, had been right when he said she would be bored. All there was to do here was eat and sleep and that's all she had done. She ate until she couldn't face another bite and then stumbled over to the nearest bed to close her eyes, invariably falling asleep only to wake some time later still feeling full but knowing she could stomach a little more and going in search of a little nibble. She had lost count of the number of cycles she had already gone through, less so because the number was too great than because she had no means of recording the count and her food-clogged brain had the memory of a goldfish. Although she remembered Anne telling her once that that was a myth, but who really cared? In spite of all of this Fiona was still relatively certain that several days must have passed, perhaps four or five at her best estimation, because all of her eating seemed to be having an effect. The changes had been slight at first: a barely registered tightness in her bra; a faint sense of constriction around her ass when she tried to sit; an almost indiscernible tension across her hips. Naturally Fiona was watching for just such feelings and had seized on them immediately as signs of progress, of her success. When she went for a bath she took a perverse sense of pleasure in stripping down and examining her body in the mirror as though it was something entirely alien to her, which in respect to her nearly continually full stomach it was. Other changes had been more subtle but to Fiona, who's body had remained virtually unchanged since she was 19 years old, each alteration to her appearance was a tremendous difference. Though the thought of gaining weight still disgusted Fiona she was unable to deny that her body seemed to be carrying the unwanted additions as well as could be hoped. In spite of the stuffed state of her stomach she was never able to discern any noticeable increase in fat around her middle, which usually brought a smile to her face. Instead the weight distributed itself across her already shapely curves to give her slightly softer, fractionally wider hips, a bouncier bum and, most conspicuous of all, bigger breasts. It had been her growing bosom that Fiona had first noticed. At full D-cups they were already one of the most prominent, indeed probably the most prominent, features of Fiona's body but it had seemed like only a couple of days before she noticed her bra feeling more snug than she was accustomed to. At first she had believed she was imagining it, some combination of paranoia and wishful thinking but when the feeling persisted through several cycles of eating and sleeping Fiona had realised that it was not all in her head. Standing stark naked in front of the bathroom mirror for the first time since she had arrived she had cupped her breasts in her hands. She had always loved that they were big enough to take large handfuls and yet still youthful and firm enough to hold their shape unsupported, she had spent a good deal of time in her youth measuring their development and revelling in their increased sensitivity as they grew larger. When they had finally plateaued at large Ds Fiona had been delighted, and she had always found them to be one of the most pleasurable parts of her body, particularly when Anne would gently trace her fingers around an areole, but a part of her, the part that always wanted more, couldn't help but wonder what bigger boobs would be like. The discovery then as she held her pride and joy in her hands that her chest was growing again, feeling their increased weight and seeing the new bulges as breast-flesh spilled out between her fingers, had given Fiona, for the first time, a genuine desire to get fatter. It was this discovery that had led to Fiona developing a taste for eating while she bathed, taking as she had a gigantic ice-cream sundae from the table before slipping into the bath and devouring all of it delightedly as she imagined her chest growing under the surfeit of food.

"It would serve that prick right if instead of getting fat playing his stupid game, I just get hotter," she had said happily to herself.

Of course the dream hadn't lasted all that long. It was only another sleep before she had felt a quiver ripple across her pert buttocks. The sight of her once toned rear already acquiring the jiggle she associated with Anne's much larger rump had been a rather rude awakening for the boob-happy blonde but the constant growth of her chest since she had been there was a tremendous source of comfort and encouragement.

At that moment Fiona was reclining in the bath, it was actually more of a Jacuzzi, cocooned in the near scalding-hot water that she loved because it made her body feel completely new. On the tray to her right was the array of food she had plucked from the table before taking her bath, a great mound of pastries and tarts and ice-creams and sweets that would swell her stomach, and the rest of her. On the floor was the similarly sized pile of rubbish: empty, chocolate-smeared plates; pie tins with nary a crumb left inside; all of it had made its way into her belly. Belly. Fiona didn't like that word, it was a fat word, but it was the fairest description of her food-gorged stomach and she had determined some time ago that it was better to be honest with herself about the changes her body was undergoing. Belching deeply, the sound reverberating around the tiled room, Fiona sank lower into the tub. She was very grateful for the depth of the bath. It wasn't something she liked to think about much but she knew that if she had been at home her stomach was so large it would have poked out of the water. Even the thought made her shudder. Without even looking Fiona's hand reached out and plucked one her favourite éclairs from the tray. God they were fantastic. Since she had arrived she'd eaten dozens of them, she had lost count after the first fifty or so, and yet she never grew tired of them. Quite the contrary, each one seemed better than the last and, loathed though she was to admit it to herself, Fiona was not convinced she could have displayed much restraint against such culinary bliss. Another éclair followed in short order, Fiona's free hand massaging her increasingly spherical belly. The warm water soothed the aching feeling somewhat, it was one of the main reasons she liked to eat there. Knowing it was important that she eat as much as possible, and knowing from experience that full as she felt there was plenty of room to go, Fiona blindly reached for more food, her groping fingers grabbing the first thing that came to hand. As her next morsel swung into view she registered mild surprise, it was a large slice of deep-dish pizza. She didn't remember bringing pizza with her. Come to think of it, she didn't remember seeing pizza anywhere on the table. Still, it didn't matter, pizza was yummy.

Anne was full, but not nearly ready to stop eating. Her usually soft stomach was domed out and rock-solid, her top was bunched up just above the zenith of her belly and still Anne knew she could eat some more. She wanted to eat more. She had completely lost track of all time since she had arrived. She'd been there for a while, certainly a few days, but she had no idea beyond that. Since coming to a decision regarding Fiona, the weight gain competition, and everything else Anne had felt blissfully free to eat whatever she wanted and this sudden release of years of pent-up hunger had shocked even her. Everywhere she looked she saw food she wanted to eat, so many wonderful treats that it made her entire body sing with joy. As soon as the decision had been made Anne had gone to the table, sat down, and begun eating the nearest thing, a large plate of double-chocolate fudge brownies. Then there was the remainder of that wonderful strawberry cheesecake, some blueberry muffins, several transcendent éclairs, and what felt like gallons of silky smooth chocolate milkshake. The fullness that Anne felt at the end of her first true binge was among the most pleasurable experiences of her young life. It was the first time she could think of in her entire life that she had eaten until she couldn't eat any more. There had been no concern about diets or weight or social stigma, just the joy of food and an unlimited supply of her favourite things. As the euphoric sensation receded the pain had emerged, but it was a good pain, it was like the pain after a vigorous workout. Ironic.

She was now nearing the end of binge number four. She sat there, breathing hard, and gingerly allowed her hand to work its way down to the button on her pants. The button was straining against the surge of flesh behind it and Anne's stomach was too tender to allow for the heated battle that was needed to pry it open but she knew that if she could just get a little more breathing room she'd have room for a little more food. Clumsy fingers pawed fruitlessly at the button for several minutes while Anne tried to find her second wind, there was just no give in the fabric and her stomach was too full to tolerate any pressure, let alone trying to suck it in. Although... Delighted by her ingenuity Anne took a deep breath and, bracing herself, pushed out her stomach with all of her might. She could feel the button straining against her mountainous abdomen, the uncomfortable pressure building. She could hear the sound of threads creaking under the onslaught of her fat. In the end though, David felled Goliath. Defeated and exhausted Anne retreated to a bed to rest, she would eat in a little while, when she'd had time to digest. She was a little annoyed that her food stuffed belly hadn't quite been big enough to pop the button but she knew it wouldn't be long. It never took that long for Anne to get fat, at least not in her mind. She tended to gain in the hips and ass, thighs too of course, but her belly usually put in a good performance somewhere in the first dozen pounds. And to be honest her pants had been pretty tight across her fatted rump even before she had started putting on a few, most of her clothes were tight across that particular region. It was the one part of her body that she knew looked good in tight clothes and she loved to flaunt it every now and then. Even Fiona, who knew her ass was getting fatter, had given Anne's butt a hungry look the last morning they had been together. Even after so short a time Anne could feel the all too familiar telltale signs of her roundest asset rounding out: the extra jiggle when she walked; the slow shifting of her underwear until it wedged itself twixt her wobbling cheeks. On a usual day those feelings would have devastated Anne, she'd have changed into her loosest, baggiest sweat pants and hit the gym, a diet of celery sticks and rice cakes already planned but here, here her chubby posterior was a reason to be happy. And the unmistakeable feeling of constriction around her thighs and the sight of tiny love-handles creeping over the hem were just more causes to celebrate. Fiona was prettier than she was, she was taller and more athletic and more fun, but when it came to gaining weight Anne was in a class of her own. Anne wondered what Fiona would look like with an extra 20lbs, an extra 30lbs? It was a strangely exciting thought.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.

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PostPosted: Tue Jun 05, 2012 9:12 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter XI

Adam was sitting back in an extremely comfortable armchair. In front of him was a vast array of screens, well more like windows really, that were capturing every moment of his little game. The competition had barely even started and he was already having a great time. He was watching everything at once but the sight of Anne lying prone on her bed, hovering between sleep and unconsciousness, with a belly too full for her to undo the button was holding most of his attention, not that Fiona's naked, wet form devouring a pizza wasn't equally delicious. Above the windows was a scoreboard. Currently it read Anne: +4.3lbs Fiona: +5.1lbs

He felt the disturbance before it happened. It was one of the senses he valued most since his change, an omnidirectional awareness of energy. He knew that Zoe was there, and he knew she was trying to sneak up on him.

"Hi Zoe." He didn't even turn around in his chair.

"Oh come on! I was completely silent, there is no way you could possibly know I was behind you. Did you give yourself the ability to see backwards or something?"

"No, I just knew you were there. Have you been to the bakery already?"

"Hardly. I'm standing in the queue at the moment. It's a long line, I guess the bakery really is pretty good."

"So what brings you here?"

"I'm bored obviously, queueing is boooorrrring. Although I wanted to ask, where are we exactly? I got this really weird feeling when I came in here."

"Interesting question. I actually don't know where we are. I created a sort of shared dream-space so that Fiona and Anne could be here together, so I guess we're in some sort of amalgamation of their subconscious."

"Right... So if we're in here, where's your body?"


"Well my body is still in the bakery, I can see the guy at the counter staring past the little old lady buying bread rolls right at my cleavage."

"One can hardly blame him."

"Shush. Anyway, I'm there, but I'm also sort of in here, so I suppose some part of my mind is in here with you. But when I looked for you outside I couldn't find you. The two girls were sitting on a bench asleep but you were nowhere. Are you actually inside this place?"

"Yeah, why?"


"What do you mean how? I wanted to be in here, so I am."

"It took practically all my concentration just to get my mind in here. I'm having to focus really hard to maintain a connection, or whatever it is, to this... this dreamscape? It's not the same for you?"

"No, I'm not having to maintain anything that I'm aware of. Maybe it's because I made it."

"I don't know. Anyway, what have you done to the two girls anyway?"

Adam explained the game at some length including the rules and how he had gotten each of them to play along. Zoe just stared at him in stunned silence throughout.

"How long has this been going on?"

"We reached the 68 hour mark just about when you arrived."

"You've been in here for three days? How...? You know what, nevermind I wouldn't understand it anyway. But three days? And you said this was going on for two weeks? Is this something you've done before?"

"Kind of, in bits and pieces. I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it. It's not like I can't just speed up things if I get bored."

"What? Now you're manipulating time!"

"No, of course not, just dream time. I can experience it as fast or as slow as I want to, let me show you. I'll fast-forward through a few hours, keep your eyes on the windows, you'll see everything happen really quick."

With that Adam sped everything up, watching with amusement as Fiona climbed out of the bath and towelled off. She always liked to poke and prod her belly after a stuffing and yesterday she had started jumping up and down to see her breasts jiggle. After getting dressed again she went to the table and loaded up on some key lime pie and a plate of brownies before going to her bed to gorge herself a little more. Anne meanwhile spent most of the time sleeping, one hand resting on her rounded middle which rose and fell as she breathed. The constant movement caused her top to ride up and expose a large smooth expanse of lightly tanned flesh. When she did wake up she went straight for the plate of cupcakes by her bedside, devouring a dozen of them in less than ten minutes. The girl certainly had an appetite.

Returning the flow of time to its usual pace Adam turned round to find Zoe had vanished. She appeared a moment later, out of breath and clutching her head in her hand, bent over at the knees. Adam was reminded somewhat of Isabelle when she and Zoe had returned from their morning run.

"What the hell was that?" She seemed genuinely pained and Adam rushed over to try and get a better look at her head.

"Are you alright?"

"No I'm not alright! I feel like my brain just got kicked in. I was looking at the screens, like you said, and then there was this rush of multicoloured light and a deafening roar in my head, everything went black, and then I lost the connection with this place and had to fight my way back in. What the hell happened?"

"I'm not sure... Look I'm really sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"No. No I'm fine really, just a little shocked. It wasn't your fault, it's not like you knew that was going to happen. Anyway, staying here is giving me a bit of headache so I'll leave you to it. See you in a bit."


And with that Zoe disappeared and Adam returned to his comfy chair, with a little more than the pair of beauties pigging out on endless quantities of fattening food to occupy his mind.

Anne was eating. Some time had passed since her failed attempt to bust the button from her pants, although in truth Anne had stopped caring about time. It could have been minutes or hours or days, it was probably days, but it didn't really matter to Anne. The situation was cruel. She was separated from the girl she loved, separated from everyone she knew, she was trapped and completely at the mercy of an incredibly powerful... something. But it was only temporary. Knowing that it was all going to end and that there was nothing whatsoever that Anne could do before that appointed time allowed her to reach a quiet equanimity with regards to her fate which in turn enabled her to focus on more important matters. Sic the decadently chocolatey and dauntingly large mousse that she was gleefully gorging on. Light as air and smoother than silk the dessert was perfect to the last detail. Anne's only gripe, and it was a small concern compared to the perfection before her, was that it felt like the thousandth dessert she had eaten since she arrived. Sweets had always been a passion for her, all the way back to when she was just a little girl and her doting father would slip her a cookie under the table when her mother wasn't looking. But even she, self-proclaimed glutton and unabashed devourer of sugar that she was, had to admit that there was a limit even to her endless appetite for puddings. That was when something happened that Anne was completely unprepared for: her giant bowl of mousse transformed into a tray of hotdogs.

Stunned by this sudden course of events it took Anne several minutes to process what had just happened. She had actually been thinking about hotdogs. Remembering all those times her dad had snuck her cookies had made her think back to all the baseball games he had taken her and her brother to over the years. Her brother, Charlie, was a big fan, as was her dad, but she'd never really understood their fascination with the game. The concession stand on the other hand was something she was all in favour of and foot-long hot dogs layered in tomato sauce, mustard, and onions were her favourite treat at the ball park. Now there were a dozen of them sitting right in front of her. Obviously something weird was going on but a gentle growl from her stomach reminded her that she hadn't put anything new in it for several minutes. It wasn't like she was hungry or anything but she'd been building up a pretty good rhythm by the time she had got to the mousse and she was really looking to get to that stuffed nirvana that made her feel so deliriously content. Three hot dogs disappeared with the seasoned skill of a girl both well-practiced and possessed of an appetite that could put a sumo wrestler to shame. The hot dogs were a wonderful change of pace, just as breathtaking as everything else she had eaten but the savoury flavours seemed to cleanse her palate, leaving it fresh and ready for her next delight. While munching through hot dogs four and five, taking these at a more leisurely speed, Anne took some time to try and work out what had happened. For as long as she had been in the room with the table full of food she had not seen a single hot dog, of that she was sure. Why then had a whole tray of them materialised in front of her? Was it really as simple as her thinking about it? It seemed too strange to be a coincidence and yet too ridiculous to believe that the room was responding to her thoughts. Still, it wasn't as if it was hard to test. Anne held out an empty hand, screwed her eyes shut and with all the concentration she could muster said:


When she opened her eyes there was a little, pale yellow sponge cake sitting in her palm. Anne gobbled it down in two swift mouthfuls. There was a spark burning in her eyes now. An ecstatic feeling of joy and limitless possibilities brought on by her new discovery. This was going to be good.

Fiona was seated at the table, several enormous trays of éclairs gathered around her. Everything was ready. Fiona wanted to test herself, wanted to see how much she could eat in one sitting. She had just woken up so she was as hungry as she ever was in a place where she ate almost ceaselessly. She had collected over fifty éclairs, far more than she would ever be able to eat, and now she was waiting. Waiting until the intoxicating aroma of chocolate and pastry and cream had her entire body screaming for a taste. Waiting until she was physically incapable of holding out any longer. It didn't take long.

Éclair number one was gone in a flurry of gnashing teeth and flying flecks of cream. In the time she had been there Fiona had never once found the éclairs to be less than perfect, like an idealised abstraction of everything an éclair could be, and today was no different. Éclair number two, number three, number four, Fiona showed no sign of flagging, number five, number six. Pause. Fiona leant back in the chair, panting slightly, a little out of breath. A dull thought flickered across her mind, wondering about calories and other unimportant things. It wasn't long before the desire to eat had driven the fleeting worry from her head. She resumed her eating at a more steady pace. No more mindless binging, just steady eating for as long as she could manage it. Number seven. Fiona could feel her belly mounding out beneath her t-shirt, she could see the outermost tip of her stomach just starting to creep from underneath the jutting shelf of her breasts. From past experience she knew that there would be a lot more belly to see by the time she was done. Number eight. Number nine. Number ten. Another brief pause, this time to readjust her wardrobe. One of the more obvious facts that Fiona had gained first-hand experience of as her body got fatter: denim doesn't stretch well. Her jeans had been getting tighter and tighter as she gained, predominantly across the hips and around her butt. When combined with the bloated tummy she was sculpting Fiona knew that, however much it still revolted her, popping the button was a necessary evil. The button undone Fiona unconsciously relaxed her stomach a little. Peering over her cleavage she noted the slight glimpse of her jet-black thong disappearing underneath her belly but now was not the time to contemplate such matters. Number eleven. Number twelve. Fiona was lost to the food, flavour was all that mattered. She never heard the gentle clicks as her slowly growing stomach forced the zipper down, notch by notch. Number thirteen, a baker's dozen. Fiona was past full now, so much pastry sitting in her stomach and so much sugar coursing through her veins that her brain was slowing to crawl. Regardless, her mind could still focus on eating. Open, chew, swallow. Open, chew, swallow. Number fourteen. Number fifteen. Fiona could feel a tremendous pressure building up in her abdomen. A low rumble echoed around her as she clutched her stomach. Craning her head backwards Fiona let out window-shattering belch that opened up some more room. Number sixteen. Fiona looked down again. Crumbs littered her chest. With one finger she daintily scooped up a blob of cream that had fallen into her cleavage, languorously sucking the digit clean. Her belly was much more visible now, even past the mountainous protrusions she called her breasts. The t-shirt was riding up her stomach now, wrinkles forming as her burgeoning potbelly forced itself into the world. Half-delirious from sugar, Fiona gave her stomach a little jiggle. The stolid mass flopped back down heavily and Fiona let out an involuntary groan as the shifting lump of food stretched her tender flesh. Number seventeen. Fiona was reaching her limit, she could feel it. Her jaw ached, her stomach felt painfully stretched and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She just wasn't used to eating like this. Number eighteen. Maybe she could get to twenty, that would be a nice round number to end on. No, she couldn't think like that. It ended when she couldn't force another mouthful down her throat, not when she convinced herself she'd done enough. Number nineteen. Breathing shallow. Infrequent hiccups. Fiona's eyes were drifting closed. Had to keep going. She lifted number twenty to her mouth, barely even registering the taste anymore, just trying to eat. A great dollop of cream fell onto her left breast but Fiona didn't notice, didn't care. She nibbled at it but in the end it was too much, Fiona couldn't face another bite. She felt sick and bloated, the pressure in her abdomen seemed to be growing. She was done. Somehow she forced herself upright and tottered over to the nearest bed, she looked drunk. Her jeans felt tight, she couldn't get comfortable. She tried to pull them off but they were too snug. Bucking and writhing on the bed, moaning in pain as her stomach rocked from side to side, Fiona managed to peel the jeans over her hips and down the top of her thighs. Finally free she shook her legs like a madwoman until the jeans flew from her left foot into the air. Fiona was asleep before they hit the ground.

Anne had been reaching ever escalating heights of wanton gluttony since her marvellous discovery. At first she had thought that she would simply laze in bed and have her every whim appear in her hands to be quickly devoured but she had discovered that eating while lying down was rather uncomfortable, not to mention horribly messy. So instead she did as she always had: ate at the table until she couldn't see straight and then fell into bed to sleep it off. To be honest she hadn't even noticed that in all that time her pants remained permanently unbuttoned, securely wrapped around her protuberant posterior and tucked under her burgeoning lower belly. It was only when she went to put them back on after a bath that she had tried to do them back up. The zip didn't even get halfway before the bulbous mound of her food-packed yet squidgy stomach halted all progress. In a previous life, really just a matter of weeks ago, the sight of a great blob of fat bulging over the hem of her panties and stopping her from doing up her loosest pants would have terrified and appalled her, but her mindset had been so affected by her time in the dream-space that it registered more as an idle curiosity. She straightened up to her full height, sucked in her belly and yanked the zipper. It still didn't get much past two thirds of the way up and her pudge was still resolutely poking through the large V between the two opposing flaps, button and hole miles apart. After several more seconds of strenuous tugging Anne released her pent up breath and her tubby middle quickly returned to its natural state, all her hard-won progress with the zipper immediately lost under the assault. Some of Anne's old fears started rearing their ugly heads, little voices telling her she'd been eating too much, that she was outgrowing her clothes, that no one would ever love a whale. The voices didn't get much traction, being fat was a temporary thing, but they did instil a certain resolve in Anne, an irrational determination to button her pants. After all, she'd been letting go and eating to her heart's desire for less than a fortnight, she couldn't really have completely outgrown her most spacious and forgiving trousers, could she? So Anne tried again. Stand up straight, deep breath and.... pull. The zipper got a little higher this time but it was still far from the top. Her damned tummy refused to be sucked in any more no matter how much she tried. Seizing a flap in each hand Anne began tugging furiously, trying to bring button and hole together. If she could do that she would be able to fix the zipper she was sure of it. Anne was having trouble holding her breath, she couldn't keep her stomach sucked in for much longer. She gave the flaps one final explosive heave and... success! Button and hole reunited.


This was a rather unusual 'Huh', though it was also very normal in a number of ways. There was nothing mysterious about the inflection, a typical mixture of interest and surprise, and there were no secrets behind the accent or the person who had spoken. It was what had prompted the 'Huh' that was so strange, not because it was a particularly rare or unexpected occurrence but because, of all conceivable reactions a person might have to their fat ass splitting a pair of pants 'Huh' was just not a very likely one to hear.

That was of course what had happened. Anne's final attempt to button the pants had caused so much pressure to build across her undulating backside that they had split cleanly right down the middle, exposing her panties to the warm air around her. Anne was aware of this the moment the seams ripped, though she didn't hear it happen, she just felt the tension ease off some, though there was still significant and unpleasant pinching around her waist. Shimmying out of them proved a relatively simple task compared to putting them on. An examination revealed a four inch tear, the threads were stretched into ragged lines and several of the remaining stitches looked so abused that Anne actually felt sorry for them.

"Oh well," Anne said, tossing the pants onto the floor and heading for the table, there was still plenty of food to eat. Maybe... burgers.

Fiona was enjoying a long, hot, soak in the tub. She loved the feeling of water ebbing and flowing around her breasts, loved the feeling of weightlessness that floating gave her. It was just so much more peaceful to not be continually confronted by her escalating weight. After her éclair binge she had woken up feeling unusually hungry and so she had grabbed several large platters piled high with food and retreated to her bath. It was there that she had finally made the same discovery as Anne, that food would appear in front of her if she wanted it to, and as such she had been in the bath for an extremely long time. The water never cooled, her skin never wrinkled, she could simply bask in the heat and the comfort, eating all the while. Right now it was pizza, lovely, deep-dish, extra-cheesy pizza, and Fiona was already on her sixth massive slice but earlier there had been some ice-cream, a nice slice of lemon cake, a plate of cookies, and more than one éclair. It bothered Fiona more than she would admit to see her belly always stuffed full, bulging beneath her breasts like a soccer ball when she really overdid it. Worse still was the more recent softness that she had found around her navel and above her hips. Big boobs and a round ass were one thing but a fat stomach? That wasn't something Fiona was ever going to be comfortable with.

As relaxing as the bath was Fiona knew that all things must come to an end. It felt like she'd been in the bath for days and, even for her, that was pushing it. Getting out of the bath was never as pleasurable as getting in. Admittedly in the strange room the air was always warm and even though the floor was tiled she never felt cold. Still the act of hauling herself out of the bath made her feel heavier than she was, or perhaps she was just feeling her true weight. Clambering out of the tub, rivulets of water streaming down her chest, her naked body nearly glowing pink from the scalding bath, Fiona was acutely aware of the extra flesh front and back swaying as she moved, not to mention the unpleasantly familiar feeling of her engorged stomach being dragged down by gravity. Knowing the reality couldn't possibly be worse than how she felt Fiona stepped in front of the mirror, eyes scrunched shut, and braced herself for the unbridled horror that awaited her.

It was worse than she'd feared. She looked enormous, like some grotesque caricature of her former gorgeous self. Fiona's eyes widened as she took it in, that great, pale orb that drew her gaze. Her navel was like a black hole, capturing all the light around it and preventing her from looking anywhere else but her revolting belly as it stuck out proudly, mocking every effort she had ever made to be thin and sexy. She hadn't seen the sun in days and her colour reflected it. The white light and white tiles only made things worse. It was completely smooth. A great dark shadow under the overhang of the repugnant protuberance made it look even larger. Rubbing her hands around it Fiona couldn't truly believe that it was really a part of her. Tears started to well up in her eyes as she pictured the reactions of her friends and family if they saw her in this state. And Anne, good god what would Anne say after all the times she'd panicked over gaining 5lbs? How could she possibly want a girlfriend who looked like she'd gained fifty? A part of her hated herself for being so pathetic. Her weight gain was deliberate, desirable in a really messed up way. She'd just never imagined such an enormous, smooth ball of flesh where her lightly toned abs used to be. Smooth... That was when it hit her, she didn't look fat, she looked pregnant.

"Food baby," she murmured to herself. It was the first time she had ever heard or uttered the phrase but it had an inexplicable familiarity to it.

She tried to pinch the fat around her middle. It was there to be certain but it was nothing compared to the actual size of her stomach. Now that she was paying attention she could really feel just how full she was. She'd never felt like this in her life, no wonder she looked like a blimp. Finally able to drag her eyes away from her stomach Fiona was able to get a proper look at her actual body. Her breasts were certainly something. She'd been a busty girl her entire life but she'd never seen melons like hers before. She wasn't exactly a great judge on sizes but she had to be up to an E cup easily. Excited now she hurried over to the neat pile of clothes folded over the back of a chair. She grabbed the bra and carefully threaded her arms through the straps and began the delicate job of nestling her engorged breasts into the cups even though it was immediately obvious that the D-cup bra was woefully inadequate. Breasts as secure as could be hoped Fiona contorted her arms to reach for the straps and began to pull them together. The tension built up almost immediately, she could feel her breasts being squished together, practically fighting to escape, and the hooks weren't even near each other. Her sports bra, an item of clothing she maintained was designed solely for the torture of women, was more comfortable than this. Eventually she got the bra hooked and went back to the mirror. Her breasts were oozing out of the bra from every available nook and cranny, looking down she was confronted by a frankly stunning cleavage that made her a little hot under the collar. Seized by a mischievous impulse she arched her back, stretching her arms out behind her, trying to put as much strain as possible on the bra. With an immensely satisfying *ping* the hooks gave way and the ruined garment flew from her chest leaving her deliciously perky breasts free to the open air, bouncing with joy.

When she had eventually considered her wondrous breasts from every conceivable angle in every conceivable pose she let her hands wander down the rest of her body. Hips were definitely a lot wider, and much more cushiony than she remembered. They had actually grown so much wider that she fancied that her hips-to-waist ratio had actually gotten more dramatic than when she was slim. That said she wasn't sure how she liked the way her hips jiggled when she shifted position, it made her look really fat, and the significant gain in thigh meat that accompanied her more hippy look was downright disturbing. Her legs used to be sleek, long, and toned but now they were creamy soft. Her years of exercise had allowed her to maintain a degree of supple firmness to her legs but they still wobbled in an unnerving manner when she stomped her feet. She had to admit though, the dramatic tapering to her still extremely slender calves and dainty feet did create a rather lovely effect. Her rump, the area that she knew Anne worried about most, looked equally alien to her. It wasn't the same shape as Anne's, hers tended to bulge out into a bubble whereas Fiona's had spread a little more with the width of her hips and formed an undeniably heart-shaped if inexcusably wobbly ass. Fiona was spellbound for several minutes just slapping her fatted cheeks until she could see bright red hand-marks. The undulating flesh was just so...not her body. A part of it sickened her but she wasn't sure if it was because she found it ugly or because she simply rebelled to any changes in her physique. After all, she was rather fond of Anne's derrière and she'd certainly never thought that the extra weight Anne tended to carry there did it any harm, quite the opposite to be honest. So why was the same not true for her? This was impossible. She needed to know what she actually looked like. The sight of her stomach, that great bulbous blemish on her body, coupled with all the added wiggling and jiggling across everywhere else set her teeth on edge. The thought of eating more food, of getting fatter still, was unimaginable. She knew that if she didn't eat she'd definitely wind up fatter, a lot fatter knowing Anne's appetite, but even knowing this she just couldn't bring herself to go to the table and eat more food. She had to know whether getting fat was something she could live with, she couldn't get the idea out of her head. And so there was nothing for it, she would have to stop eating. Not for good of course, just long enough for the swelling in her stomach to go down. Then she could get a good look at herself in the mirror without her belly throwing off everything. If she was comfortable with what she saw then she could go back to eating, do her best to win and know that she could live with the consequences if she didn't. And if she couldn't accept being fat? Well she always did respond best when backed into a corner.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 05, 2012 11:22 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter XII

"Arrrrrrrgggh!" Fiona screamed into her pillow. How had it all come to this? What on earth had happened to her life? It had sounded so simple: stop eating for a bit, let the food in her engorged belly digest, take a proper look at her body. Assess the damage so to speak. But, as the cartoon rabbit says, "Watch out for that first step, it's a lulu".

When had she become incapable of going without food for a couple of hours? She'd left the bath and her original inspections and gone straight to bed, eagerly anticipating waking up to find her belly in a more natural state and glad of the opportunity to sleep through the over-stuffed discomfort her binging had caused. Fiona didn't know how long she was asleep, but judging by how tight her stomach felt when she awoke it wasn't long. She was tired too, not desperate for sleep but she would have been quite happy to doze off again for a few more hours. Except she couldn't: she was too damn hungry. It was completely unreasonable, her stomach was full, still quite firm and tender to the touch. But she wanted food. Her body expected it, craved it... needed it. And now she had spent what felt like days trying to get back to sleep. Rolling over, rearranging the covers, flipping the pillow, she'd tried it all but gnawing hunger was all-consuming. Fiona didn't care though, she wasn't going to flake. She'd made a decision and when she decided something that was it, there was no further need for debate. She'd been forcing herself to eat beyond her limits for days, now she would just force herself not to. This was beyond any petty vain desire to appraise her looks. Fiona knew that this was part of the game. That sick bastard probably loved the thought of her being unable to control herself, of her completely surrendering all freewill. The whole thing about eating made no sense to her, nor the idea of getting fat, but she was certain now that this was about more than either of those things. For whatever reason, and it sickened her to even think it, but her tormentor was getting off on this.

The worst part was that she knew he was winning. She'd convinced herself of the necessity to stop eating for the sake of self-inspection. A part of her knew how stupid that really was but the petulant inner child liked the defiance. But when that excuse was gone she would have to eat. She would have to give in to her cravings. In fact, if she was realistically going to have any hope she was going to have force herself far beyond just sating her hunger. It wasn't going to be easy but it was a small capitulation compared to what she'd lose if she refused to eat. The rules of the game were burnt into her brain, every pound Anne gained more than her was an extra 2lbs in punishment. Giving up control of her hunger was one thing but giving up control of her body, moving beyond tubby or chubby and becoming genuinely fat, that wasn't something Fiona was ready to do. So much of her identity was locked into her appearance. Her confidence with friends and family and teachers, in small groups and huge parties. Being thin and gorgeous made her life easier, people wanted to please her, be around her, talk to her. And Anne... Fiona had always been the dominant personality in the relationship. Of course their coupling had lasted long enough now for some of Fiona's effervescence to rub off on her girlfriend. A happy, healthy, long-term thing had done wonders for Anne's confidence, everything from her upgraded wardrobe to trying out for the community theatre was due, in some part, to Fiona giving Anne a little nudge off the ledge. But if she was fat? Would Anne take charge? That wasn't such a bad thought, exciting even, but what if neither of them took charge? What if neither of them had the drive, the somewhat egotistical insanity that made their relationship so exhilarating so much of the time?

Fiona was interrupted from her deep musings by a truly cacophonous gurgling from her stomach. She could actually hear it echoing down the hallway. She'd been wrong. Adam wasn't winning, he'd already won. Eat or not eat, it made no difference, he got what he wanted regardless. A wave of hopelessness and nihilistic resignation surrounded Fiona, washing away any illusions of control she had held onto. There was nothing left to do really but what he wanted. That was the point of course. Like a magician at some cheesy stage show who offers you a choice of cards but no matter what you choose you always end up taking the one he wants. Another low gurgle in her stomach. The thought of eating was so tempting, and there was no reason to deny herself anymore, there never was a reason in the first place. Glancing over at the table Fiona could see a platter of éclairs.

"Fuck it."

She rolled out of bed and remembered for the first time that she was practically naked. After busting her bra the previous night she'd shimmied her way into her panties but, after almost snapping them over her now dangerously curvy hips, hadn't felt inclined to battle with her tight denim jeans, especially on a full stomach. As for the top, Fiona couldn't remember seeing it since her gigantic éclair binge. So now, here she was, completely topless with an ass that felt like it was swallowing what little remained of her clothes. The jeans were still in the bathroom but there was no chance of them fitting. Fiona had once watched her elder sister trying to cram her oversized body into some undersized pants after her first semester at college, a roll of fat building up on each thigh as she forced the unforgiving cotton up her legs. Fiona shuddered at the thought of enduring the same. She tried to remember where the top might have been, but she'd wandered up and down the table so much as she ate that she'd never have a hope of finding it. Looking down at her massively enhanced bust she wasn't so sure the top would be a particularly comfortable fit anyway, she definitely recalled the neckline looking stretched the last time she'd seen it. Outgrowing her clothes: The latest victory for her captor. That's when she had an idea, a wonderful idea that made her entire body quiver with anticipation. Finally, a way that she could fight back.

She dashed over to the table, one hand protectively restricting her breasts, and grabbed a knife. Jogging back to the bed, ignoring the feeling of her thighs brushing together, she stripped the cover off the duvet and held it up. It was only a single bed but the material was still a lot wider than she needed, then again loose clothing had its benefits. The length on the other hand was definitely wrong. Taking the knife she cut off the bottom two feet of material, the ends were frayed and ragged but it didn't matter much. Cutting a few holes at the top of the sheet she was able to stick her head and arms through and take a look at the first pass on her new couture. It was a formless white blob. Going back to the table she found a couple of forks and, using the knife, another fork, a bench and a great deal of brute force succeeded in bending off the prongs until she had an even dozen. She folded the material at the bottom of the skirt up until was a just below the knee, holding it in place with some of the prongs. Then, using the knife she set about cutting a décolletage out of the gash she had ripped for her head. In the end the neckline was a little more plunging than she had planned but the sight of her large, still pert breasts framed by the white bed sheet brought a smile to her face. After a little careful folding and using some of the remaining pins Fiona was even able to smooth the lines. She then returned to the discarded excess. She cut a 6 inch loop from the remaining material and then cut it down the middle to create a long strip of fabric. Pulling the dress over her head, shuddering as the silken smooth cloth brushed over her nipples, she set about fashioning a crude form of support for her breasts by looping the strip behind her and then tying a knot in the fabric at the crest of her bosom. Donning her sheet-dress once more she went to the bathroom to get a proper look at herself. While her various adjustments had certainly improved the overall shape it still looked a lot like a box. Pinning some of the excess material around her shoulders behind her went somewhat to improving the flow but even then it wasn't the look she was going for. The answer came like a bolt of lightning and she shot back out to the remaining fabric and once again fashioned a long strip of material, this one somewhat thicker than that which now cupped her breasts. This last strip she tied quite tightly just beneath her chest, pulling in the material to create an empire waist that both added shape and would exert the barest minimum of pressure on her stomach when she had eaten too much. After a brief fashion parade in front of the mirror during which Fiona was unable to stop herself from mimicking the famous Marilyn Monroe pose from The Seven Year Itch she returned to the table, ready to re-enter the fray.


While Fiona was busy living her own version of the Paris Fashion Week Anne was engaged in a rather more strenuous struggle. Unlike Fiona her growth had not yet caused a complete wardrobe malfunction. Excepting the pants that had been more than overmatched by the potent combination of bigger butt, thicker middle, and fatted thigh her attire was faring remarkably well. Though certainly erring on the small side the bra still fit well enough, her top too was a comfortable fit so long as she had no pretensions of it actually covering her belly. Underwear was, naturally, a more problematic area but aside from a persistent wedgie and the need to occasionally readjust her bloated tummy to avoid snapping the waistband all was going better than might be expected. Instead Anne's attentions had been focused solely on one thing: eating. Her mind had moved beyond thoughts of victimisation or resentment some time ago, reality was what it was. Not that what was happening seemed all that real of course. The opportunity to truly enjoy eating with no stigma and no consequences had been pushing her to greater and greater feats of extravagant gluttony. As her eating spiralled further and further out of control her mind grew ever more obsessed with exploring her limits. Every time she awoke from a binge-induced coma she felt hungrier and hungrier and sought more and more ways to expand on what she had already tried.


Which was what had led to her latest idea. She had woken with a desire for something sweet, and the sight and smell of chocolate on the table had set her taste buds alight at the thought of creamy, smooth cocoa. But simply eating a chocolate cake or a plate of cookies or a dozen family sized bars simply didn't have the edge she was looking for. She had sat at the table, nibbling on a slice of chocolate truffle torte, trying to think of a new idea but it wasn't until she lay supine on the bench that she finally had her revelation. Screwing her eyes tight in concentration she had focused as hard as she could and wished for a keg of liquid chocolate.


Which brought her to her current situation, trying to lift an enormous metal drum filled with a dense, viscous liquid onto the platform she had made with a couple of benches. It was unbelievably heavy and awkward to move, her arms could barely reach round the container, every time she tried to lift it she could feel her breasts and stomach squishing into the cool metal. She knew in hindsight that she should have asked for the barrel to already be set up for her but she didn't want to ask again, it just felt wasteful. Eventually she had the keg upside down on the benches and a hose (which had simply appeared in her hand) attached to the valve. She grabbed a couple of pillows from the bed and used them to prop up her head slightly as she took up her position underneath the keg so that she was almost lying across a couch, put the hose in her mouth and turned the valve.

The result was somewhat less than dramatic. The viscosity of the liquid combined with the relatively small aperture provided by the hose did not exactly have the delectable chocolate streaming down to her eager mouth. Instead Anne watched with some impatience as the brown goo crept down the tube millimetre by agonising millimetre. A few seconds was about all she could manage before she'd had enough of waiting. Eager to get things started she began sucking furiously on her end of the hose, each drag pulling the chocolate closer and closer. By the time the chocolate was halfway there her cheeks were sore and she was out of air but it didn't matter, the chocolate was picking up speed. She had just enough time to catch her breath before the chocolate hit and her entire mouth exploded in ecstasy. She swallowed greedily, now that the flow had reached her the chocolate came in a ceaseless stream of increasingly stratospheric delight. She could already feel her mind slipping away under the deluge of taste and the warm, comfortable feeling of her empty stomach filling up. It was transcendent. Even as she began to lose herself to the soothing repetition of savouring and swallowing she retained the presence of mind to grab one of the whipped cream cans that she had also asked for. The valve for the keg she had envisioned had a secondary input point that perfectly accommodated the can's nozzle, as she had always planned. Pressing the button briefly she injected a short stream of white into the smooth brown. Eyes widening in anticipation she watched as the cream mixed into the chocolate on its way down, striations of white glimmering through the tube, until the cream finally hit and her mind practically collapsed in on itself at the intense rush of sweet flavours, contrasting textures and the growing sensation from her ever-filling stomach. Over the next few minutes she forced cream into the tube at regular intervals, revelling in the variations her plan had allowed for. Barely aware of what she was doing she thought of an aerosol can of caramel, not even caring that such a thing didn't exist, and no sooner had she thought it than it was in her hand and she was adding a new flavour to the mix. In the midst of her hedonistic haze it took Anne's mind quite a bit longer than it should have to realise that the chocolate was coming faster and faster and she was having to swallow larger and larger portions of the sickly sweet concoction. The chocolate had been slow to move at first but it had been building momentum every second that ticked by, and now that Anne was almost continually augmenting her meal with injections of cream and caramel (she'd started using a second input valve that had materialised out of nowhere without her even noticing) she was finding it increasingly difficult to take the time to breathe. But oxygen was a secondary concern. The taste and the fullness and the unrestrained extravagance were what mattered most. The liquid was filling up every inch of her. She could feel the pressure building slowly in her stomach as her cheeks began to puff out under the continued rush of calories. The cans never seemed to empty even as tiny dribbles of chocolate began to squeeze past her pink lips and roll down her chin. Anne could feel the pleasurable fullness in her belly graduating to the familiar pain of her stomach stretching to accept her latest trial but this discomfort only heightened her desire to eat more, to push herself past any limits she had left. Looking past the tube she could see her stomach swelling before her. Her top, which when her stomach was in its resting state usually sat a little way above the apex of her belly, was bunched up beneath her breasts. The flesh around her belly looked pale and strained, though in spite of the abuse it had suffered now and prior it remained free of marks and scars. Suffering the absence of the caramel injections for a few moments Anne took the time to prod her stomach gently, testing its capacity. The pain was building all the time, occasional twinges caused her eyes to water though her expression never faded from a beatific joy. There was a satisfying lack of give in the pudge that ringed her tummy, stretched so tightly now that even the soft fat she had so long feared and now so lovingly cultivated was becoming hard. As her vision started to blur and the act of keeping her arms aloft to hold the cans became too much to bear Anne dropped them to the floor and turned off the valve, still eagerly gobbling down the last remnants of her meal. A warm glow seemed to radiate from her entire being, her face was beautifully adorned with a dazzling smile and small lines of chocolate laced with cream. Incapable of moving, utterly disinterested in even attempting to do so, Anne let her eyes drift shut as her hands gently massaged the towering mass of food and blubber she had created. Her smile only grew wider as she fell asleep.

High up in his ivory tower Adam was still only partially paying attention to tribulations of his two latest victims. He was watching everything, not a single morsel of food, fleeting thought, or tired sigh escaped his notice. And yet this did not require his full focus. A part of his mind was watching Anne and Fiona play the game and the rest was... thinking about everything else. His most recurring thought: How was he thinking about something else? He understood the human brain better than most, the brain only processes a certain amount of information at a time, that's why people miss little details in just about everything they see and do, and yet that didn't seem to apply to him. Or at least, it didn't seem to apply to him here, he was still undecided as to whether this trait was caused by his location or if he himself was actually changing. For that matter he wasn't sure what the changes were. Or if they were finished. Or slowing to a stop. Or speeding to... who knew? He still felt like himself. All of his memories were still there. In fact, running through his past in his head he was amazed at the level of detail he could recall, it was almost like being able to watch a DVD of every moment in his life. But even though he was himself, he was still not the same. He'd been inside the dreamscape for nearly a fortnight. He hadn't eaten or slept since he'd arrive. For that matter he hadn't even spoken to another person since Zoe's brief visit and yet he didn't feel lonely or isolated, as though it was completely normal to be cut-off from the rest of humanity for weeks at a time. If that was the case, was he really still human?

Thinking wasn't getting him anywhere though and so Adam pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and tried to lose himself in the spectacle before him. It had been an extraordinary event. A success beyond what he'd first imagined. Both girls had embraced their new lifestyles and were routinely stuffing themselves to, and frequently past, their limits. Fiona was competitive, driven, determined to win and willing to put the effort in to do it. Anne was a natural eater, a wanton glutton who had been hiding behind a veneer of dieting and social norms her entire life, unleashed like a force of nature. What was so remarkable though was that now, as they approached the final 48 hours, there was only a half a pound between their respective gains, with Anne holding that fractional lead. Logic dictated that in a long-term competition between two individuals the one with the greatest natural talent should win since, eventually, practice, perseverance and talent should win out over someone with just the first two. So either Fiona was a closet feedee, which Adam knew wasn't true, or she was one of the most stubborn-willed people Adam had ever encountered. And that was saying nothing of all the time she had wasted obsessing over her gain and her clothes and the ethics of what she was doing. Not that Anne hadn't wasted time at the beginning of course but nothing like as much as Fiona. Adam genuinely didn't know who was going to win, but he knew how it was going to end.

"Ladies," Adam's magically magnified voice boomed out of the walls of the girls' respective prisons. Anne, who had been fast asleep, jerked awake and banged her head into the steel keg still hanging above her before wincing as the sharp movement compressed the food in her stomach and gave her a second jolt of pain. Fiona, who was in the process of polishing off her third burger, nearly choked in surprise.

"You've both done extraordinarily well. You should both be proud of your efforts but now we are entering the final stretch. There are a mere 48 hours remaining in the competition. More interestingly I can reveal to you that the difference in your gains at this moment in time is a mere 0.5lbs. I'll be seeing you soon."

Adam couldn't help but laugh to himself as he watched the stunned looks on each of their faces. Both of them seemed to be frozen in shock, trying to process what they had just heard. Fiona recovered fastest, quickly cramming an enormous bite of cheeseburger into her mouth and chewing furiously. Anne was barely a second behind, turn the tap on the keg and rubbing her already abused stomach in preparation for what was to come. While waiting anxiously for the chocolate to make its slow progress down the hose she grabbed the can of whipped cream and fired it directly into her mouth, puffing out her cheeks like a chipmunk before taking one large swallow, an eye fixed on the flowing chocolate.

But Adam was impatient. After days and days of waiting and watching without giving a second thought to the time he was investing he was eager to get to the end, and so he elected to watch the last stage of the game at high speed. Fast-forwarding through dream time was an unusual experience. In a matter of milliseconds his brain witnessed hours of events fly by. They didn't blur, his mind just absorbed the information instantaneously and even though he'd only seen any one moment for a millionth of a second he knew everything that had happened, and he could even remember everything in true time, chronology intact. There were several highlights that stuck out as he waited for the last minutes to tick down.

Fiona barely slept during the entire thing, eating until she was so full that her belly was actually being restricted by her empire-waisted bed sheet dress and she'd had to loosen the knot. When she wasn't able to eat one more bite she would lie down on the bench, her next mouthful waiting in her hands, and nibble on it, crumb by crumb, until she'd digested enough food to attack it again. Adam knew that it had only been an hour after his announcement before her swollen stomach had been clearly visible over the top of her inflated breasts and it had stayed in view the entire time.

Anne had employed a somewhat different tactic, preferring as usual to gorge herself, sleep it off and start again. With the second wind she'd gotten from the adrenalin rush brought on by her proximity to the end she'd managed to polish off the remnants of the chocolate keg and then alternate between mouthfuls of caramel and mouthfuls of cream until her body was so full of sugar she'd actually fallen into a coma. From then on it was a non-stop orgy of food for Anne. Eating anything that her mind could envision: a chocolate cake as tall as she was and twice again as wide; plates of waffles stacked so high that the syrup running down them looked like caramel coloured waterfalls; bowls of pasta loaded with bacon and mushrooms and twenty different types of cheese. Anne ate from everything, indiscriminately and passionately, Adam couldn't remember seeing anything like it in his life.

Soon though Adam was ready to call time. Once again his booming voice rang out through the hallways:

"5..." both girls eyes widened in terror, "4..." Fiona had stopped eating, "3..." Anne hadn't, "2..." both girls closed their eyes.

And opened them again to find themselves in the same office they had stood in all those weeks ago. Sitting behind the desk in a large swivel-backed chair was Adam, hands together in the finger pyramid of evil contemplation, smiling broadly at his two guests.

"Welcome back girls. Did you enjoy yourselves?"

Neither girl seemed inclined to answer. Neither seemed that interested in Adam either, both were too busy hugging and kissing each other, tears of joy streaming down their faces. When they pulled apart they couldn't help but appraise each other. Anne, dressed only in a too small shirt bunched up beneath her bra and a pair of panties almost fully occluded by her gargantuan buttocks. Her stomach inflated into a semi-spherical bulge that hung over the hem as if in sympathy to the colossal twin orbs, each of which looked to have doubled in size since she'd arrived, that jutted out behind her to form an enticing bubble. Fiona, still wearing her dress which downplayed much of her gain. All that was really evident was the remarkable amplification of her pre-existing curves: the enormous breasts, practically F cup by now, stuck out proudly in her makeshift bra and spread sideways past her arms to give her the silhouette of a cartoon character. The dress was pulled somewhat tight across the softened curve of her now very rounded hips and around the swell of her equally wide but still gently outward-arching bum. A hint of belly could be seen in the excess fabric bunched around out front, but it was impossible to see the other changes, like the love-handles she now wore or the tiny sliver of air that could still be seen between her luscious thighs before they tapered down her slender calves. The rest of her exposed body, face, arms, fingers and toes were practically unchanged. Cheeks were less hollow, chin slightly less angular but still a long way from the double-chin that was already a half-hidden fixture of Anne's much more cherubic face. Arms had lost tone and gained some wobble but youth preserved her skin's natural firmness and made Fiona look halfway towards some ancient fertility goddess.

"It is time for the final weigh-in. You'll notice that the food you had recently eaten has been automatically digested for you and those extra pounds added to your frames."

Fiona was scowling at him now, Anne actually seemed to be looking around for something to eat.

"To see who goes first we'll need to flip a coin," one appeared in Adam's hand instantly, "One of you call it in the air if you please."

Both girls remained silent as the coin flew into the air, spinning rapidly end over end. When neither girl made a call Adam left the coin spinning and reclined into his seat.

"I've got all the time in the world. The sooner you call, the sooner you leave. Unless you fancy another two weeks?"

"Heads!" was Fiona's instant response, and the coin fell into Adam's outstretched hand.

"Heads it is. Fiona you get to weigh in first."

At that a large set of scales, the type with the sliding weights usually found in gyms, materialised in the middle of the room. Fiona stepped towards the thing like it was some sort of medieval torture device, or a gallows. Tentatively she placed one foot on the plate *Clang*. The scales shifted and Fiona winced at the sound. Very carefully she moved all the weights to zero. Then, as timid as a mouse, slid the top weight to the 100lbs mark. Then, even more slowly than before, she began to inch the lower weight up the scale. 110. 120. 130. She got slower and slower until by the time she reached 134lbs she wasn't even moving it.

"Fair to say, Fiona, that you weigh a little more now. You should be grateful, a girl nearly six feet tall weighing barely more than 130lbs? You're lucky you didn't get blown over in a strong wind."

Fiona just scowled again and resumed the slider's slow progress along the scale. Millimetre by millimetre, pound by pound she went on. Past 140, past 150. Her eyes were wide, pupils contracted down to pinpricks as she watched the slider, both hoping and dreading that it would balance soon. *Clang* *Bang* *Clang* The scale bounced violently as Fiona found her equilibrium.

"And the magic number is: 158lbs. Which I believe puts your gain at a very impressive 24lbs. Now Anne, if you would kindly step up?" Adam said, as the scale magically set itself back to zero.

"Fiona," Anne said quietly to her girlfriend as she passed, "Whatever happens, I love you, that's never gonna change."

"Me too," Fiona replied, squeezing Anne's hand with her own.

Anne stepped up to the scale with much less fear on her face than Fiona. She'd certainly had more experience with getting a bad reading. She moved the slider quickly past 110, 120, 130, 140, 150. Then slowing down. 153lbs. 155lbs. 156lbs. 157lbs. Fiona looked horror-struck. Did little Anne, barely 5' 5" in heels, weigh as much as her? 158lbs. The scale looked like it was on the cusp of balancing. 159lbs. *Bang* *Clang* *Bang*

"Anne, your weight is now 159lbs. Your gain is... 28lbs. Congratulations you've won."

Anne turned to look at her girlfriend, sorrow and apology etched on her face. The scales vanished from beneath her and Adam stood up from behind his desk.

"All of which means we have some adjustments to make. Anne, as reward for your victory, you are returned to your former weight."

"No! No I don't want to. Let Fiona be thin, I'll be fat, I'll take the penalty instead."

"Rules are rules. You won, you lose the weight."

With a click of his fingers and a blinding flash of light Anne was suddenly back to her original self. Even her clothes had been replaced. Her hands flew to every corner of her body, poking and prodding. The ass she had always thought so large felt tiny now, the little ring of softness around her waist felt like rock-hard abs after the bloated belly she'd grown accustomed to. Fiona looked on with a sense of grim resignation.

"And so we come to Fiona. You did exceptionally well and you've been a great addition to the game, but the time has come to pay the piper."

To Fiona's credit, her eyes were like steel.

"Beautiful though your dress is I think if we're going to see the full majesty we'll need to adjust your clothes a little."

Fiona's bed sheet disappeared, leaving Fiona in nothing but a pair of overtaxed panties stretched to near breaking point across her hips and the strip of fabric wrapped underneath her heaving bosom.

"Now, Anne beat you by 4lbs and she gained 28 in total, so you're owed another 36lbs. If it's any comfort, you'll still be a little way south of 200. Hold on."

Fiona's weight didn't change in an instant like Anne's, instead she just started to swell slowly as Anne watched on, mouth agape, and Fiona desperately clutched at her expanding flesh, as though trying to push it all back into her body. The first obvious change was her belly. When her clothes had vanished she had reflexively covered her stomach, unwilling to suffer the shame of having anyone, even Anne, see the horrendous mockery her once taut midriff had devolved to. Now little mounds of fat were pushing their way out through her splayed fingers, wrapping themselves around her arm. Her love-handles were growing too, spreading outwards as her hips widened, and becoming good handfuls of soft, wobbling pudge. Her panties were soon so strained that seams were popping everywhere but, somehow, they remained in place. Her breasts' growth was uncharacteristically restrained, until it wasn't. They underwent tremendous, stuttering growth spurts that set them rippling and jiggling inside the fabric. The strip rapidly reached its elastic limit and flesh was soon rising backwards in a wave of cleavage and forcefully overflowing the feeble confines. It only took a few of these sporadic bursts of expansion for her little strip to be completely subsumed and for the weight of her breasts to crush her bra entirely, leaving them to fall onto her newly acquired potbelly. Though still looking surprisingly pert no amount of youthful firmness could hold full G-cup breasts from surrendering to gravity, though her nipples still pointed defiantly to the sky and her breasts remained smooth and evenly toned, not a blemish to be seen. Her belly got larger and larger, still vastly outmatched by Fiona's gargantuan all-natural chest. Instead of spreading sideways with her hips as it had largely done before it began to push forwards to create a pliable ball of squishy flesh that swayed slightly as she twisted and turned, examining her changing body and when she breathed, the little ripples that ran across her gigantic breasts carried on down to her belly button.

When the transformation stopped Adam felt it prudent to give the girls a few minutes to acclimatize to the sudden changes. Fiona seemed at a loss for words, Anne seemed somewhat awed. It didn't take all that long though for Fiona to say:

"Right. Well you've had your sick fun, now send us home."

"Of course, but there is one more thing I'd like to discuss. A consolation prize for you Fiona, in light of your full-throated participation."

"I don't want anything from you. Let us out of here!"

"Careful, I'm trying to be nice here. You don't want to upset me now do you?"

There was crystal silence.

"My offer is this: first of all, a wardrobe update for you when you go back. You'll have clothes that fit, that you even like, and that will flatter your... ample curves. Secondly, I can make it so that no one thinks any less of you for being heavy. No one will mock you, all of your friends will still like you, your social life won't have to change in any way."

"And what's the catch?"

"No catch. I don't need to resort to such things. If I wanted to do something cruel, to play some kind of trick, then I'd just do it, I wouldn't ask your permission."

"And if I say no?"

"Well obviously I have to make some adjustments to your world when you go back, you can't suddenly get fatter with no explanation, that would raise far too many questions. But if you don't want what I'm offering you can be the social pariah dressed in clothes that barely fit you and make you look twice your actual size, if that's what you'd prefer"

"So those are my choices? Your way or I suffer."

"Your choices are my benevolent gift or the reality of your new situation. Take your pick."

"Fine. I'll take it."

"Excellent, now say thank you."


"Politeness is important."

Fiona's face was screwed up in rage. Anne, who had been nestled against Fiona's soft side, arm draped across her shoulder, looked worried. In the end, she ground out the words through gritted teeth.

"Thank... You."

And just like that Anne and Fiona woke up on the bench.

"Anne?" Fiona said to her beautiful girlfriend, who was currently cuddled against her warm, soft body.

"Yeah Fi?"

"I'm hungry."

"You want to go to the bakery? Get some éclairs?"

"Best. Girlfriend. Ever."

And the two of them headed inside, hand in hand, just as Zoe was walking out.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.
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PostPosted: Sun Jul 01, 2012 10:49 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter XIII

Adam and Zoe were finally headed back home, Zoe carrying a box under one arm containing a decadently rich chocolate cake. Finding himself back in the real world Adam had almost instantly returned to normal, the concerns and considerations that had plagued him in the dreamscape seemed much less ominous in the soft glow of the sun over the ocean. In the back of his mind he knew he would have to face the issues eventually but he was on holiday, he was omnipotent, and there were at least two girls at home who needed dinner.

"Anyway," Adam said, "I wanted you to tell me about your parents' friends."


"I figured it would be a good idea to get your mother out of the house before we bring out the chocolate cake."

"Oh... right. Well..."

"Who do they go to the opera with?"

"The opera? How do you know my parents like the opera?"

"There's a photo on the mantelpiece, CDs by the stereo and a pair of opera glasses on the table by the door."

"Why do you know that?"

"Who do they go to the opera with?"

"Some people called Liz and Tom Shelton. I've never even met them, I've no idea where they live or what they look like."

Adam was too busy remotely scanning the house for a photo, and then the contacts list on the phone. A few short moments later and everything was sorted.



"Yeah, they've got two extra tickets to Carmen, they're meeting your parents at a restaurant and then onto the show. They'll be gone for the night."

"You played a lot of chess as a child didn't you?"

"I still play now. Want a game when we get back?"

"I never learned."

"Excellent, want to play for money?"

"Oh ha ha. I think Julie plays."

"I figured."

"Of course you did."

They arrived home just as Zoe's parents were hurrying out the door.

"Oh good," Laura gushed sounding somewhat hurried, "There you are. We're going out to the opera, a last minute thing, can the four of you sort something out for dinner?"

"We'll be fine mum, have a good evening."

When they walked into the living room it was to see Julie channel-surfing on the sofa and Isabelle curled up with a book in the armchair. Zoe wasted no time in plonking herself down next to Julie, yawning and arching her back to emphasise her generous rack in what Adam knew was Zoe's expression of dominance. Adam meanwhile went to the kitchen to see what might be suitable for dinner. The plan was something light and healthy so that he would have a better chance of convincing Isabelle to have a bit of cake for dessert. Julie, he was sure, would be eating plenty. The kitchen was very bare, a stark contrast from the well-stocked cupboards Adam kept for his roommates, and Adam was beginning to worry that the only thing they could make was a salad. Eventually he managed to find some chicken breast, with a good selection of vegetables and a marsala sauce it would be serviceable, though they'd probably be hungry later. Given the cake he and Zoe had stashed in the fridge, that wasn't such a bad thing.

The evening was uneventful. Adam did get round to playing a few games of chess with Julie. At first he'd felt she wasn't putting up much of a game but he soon realised that, like so many other things in his life, chess was easier now than it had been. Even after months without a game he had no difficulty destroying Julie in their first match. Thereafter though he stayed his hand somewhat and tried to teach Julie rather than beat her. By the fourth game she seemed to be getting her eye in. After beginning with a slight variant on the Giuoco piano opening she'd made a coherent defence of the middle board but found herself frequently under threat of imminent death. Once or twice she was only saved by Adam raising an eyebrow as she made a move. Eventually though she reached the end of her rope and toppled her king.

"Pick it up," Adam said.

"Why bother. I'm dead."

"You're not dead, there's still hope."

"Of winning this? Are you looking at the same board? My Queen's pinned, I've got no knights. I can't win."

"True, you can't win, but you can do a lot better than lose."

"Play for stalemate? How?"

"Look harder."

And look harder she did. Five minutes passed in total silence, save for Zoe and Isabelle discussing the next fashion show, while Julie tried to bore a hole in the chessboard with her eyes.

"There's no play for stalemate, you're just having me on."

"Care to bet on that?"

"Yes," Julie responded vehemently, "There's no way."

"Okay, a bet then. Bragging rights?"


"Jules," Zoe interjected suddenly, "Don't bet, you'll lose."

"I'm fine Zoe, he's bluffing."

"Oh am I? Well then, how about we make it more interesting? I bet I can force stalemate in four moves. Winner chooses their prize after the fact, no limitations beyond law and common decency."

"Law and common decency? Does everyone talk like that in Cambridge?"

"No Jules, just him." Zoe was smiling now.

"You're on."

And with that Adam spun the board around and took his first turn.

Adam moved his Queen. "Check."

Zoe and Isabelle gathered around, eager to see what would happen.

Now looking thoroughly confused Julie took his Queen.

Adam moved his remaining Bishop. "Check."

Julie's pawn took his Bishop, still confused.

Adam revenged his Bishop with a pawn of his own.

Julie moved her Rook to guard against the pawn's promotion.

Adam promoted his pawn to a Queen.


Julie took the Queen with her Rook.

"Stalemate, in four moves as promised."

Julie just looked at the board in silence. Adam's only remaining pieces were two pawns and his King. The pawns were wedged against other pawns and the King was covered in every direction. Each piece she'd taken, each piece he'd forced her to take, had cut-off his King's escape routes.

"But you sacrificed all your pieces!"

"To win. There's nothing better than snatching a draw from certain defeat."

Julie continued to stare at the board. Zoe patted Julie conciliatorily on the back.

"I tried to warn you Jules. Adam doesn't bluff."

"So," Isabelle said looking thoroughly amused, "What's Julie's forfeit?"

"I don't know yet," Adam replied, "But I'm sure I'll think of something." Julie looked suitably concerned. "Anyway, should we sort out something to eat?"

"We could order in," Zoe stated simply, not noticing the look Adam was throwing her.

"Order what?" Isabelle replied, "Take-out food is just greasy lumps of MSG."

"We don't need take-out, there's enough in the kitchen for me to put something together," Adam interjected swiftly, moving to Zoe's side and giving her shoulder a squeeze, hoping she'd get the point.

"You're cooking again?" Julie asked, "Are you completely unclear on how the 'guest' thing is supposed to work?"

"Well if you want you're welcome to help."

With the four of them working together dinner was a quick fix, especially since the only difficult bit was the sauce, which Adam handled. The food was undeniably healthy: grilled chicken, a salad made from any vegetables Isabelle could cannibalise from the fridge, a light sauce, but there was plenty of it (Adam had augmented the quantities earlier) and Adam made sure to serve up large platefuls to all concerned. After all every little helped. Zoe wrinkled her nose somewhat at the sight of her green and pleasant plate but after a look from Adam ate regardless. Adam was immediately rewarded by a soft moan of appreciation escaping her lips and a whispered "Thank you" in his ears. He'd made her food taste like cheeseburger and chips. Julie and Isabelle seemed similarly impressed with their meals, though Adam had made no alterations to them, and before long the plates were empty and being left to dry.

"That was good," Isabelle said as they returned to the living room. "Especially for health food."

"That wasn't health food, it was healthy food. How it tastes depends on how you cook it."

"Where did you find this one Zoe? Smart, funny, handsome," Adam blushed, Zoe smiled, "And he can cook? I'm pretty sure there are rules on this."

Zoe kissed Adam on the cheek in response before snuggling up against him on the sofa. Julie meanwhile was looking at the chessboard. She saw Adam catch her looking and quickly turned away but it gave Adam the opening he needed.

"Oh yes, that's right. You have a bet to settle Julie."

Adam rubbed his hands together for effect, given Julie's pupils it seemed to work.

"Let's see... I want you to..." Julie looked nervous, Isabelle excited. Zoe, Adam was sure, had figured out what he was doing by now. "I want you to join Zoe and me in a slice of cake."

"What?" Isabelle asked incredulously. Julie looked more than a little relieved.

"Some dessert after dinner. We picked it up earlier in a bakery Zoe saw when you two were out running this morning. Come on, let's get it out."

The cake was quickly presented for inspection, it actually looked a little feeble to Adam, used as he was to towering monstrosities that could feed 20 people.

"So, this is what you want for winning? Me to eat some cake? Is it poisonous or something?"

"Of course not."

"Then why?"

"Because," Adam lied easily, "I've always felt that betting against someone who can't win is unfair. The cake is an apology of sorts."

Adam then proceeded to cut the cake into quarters and then halved one quarter and plated them for Zoe and himself.

"So, how much do you want?" Adam asked Julie, knife hovering over the mid-point of the next quarter.

"A little less than..." Adam's eyes flashed triumphant. "You know what? Screw it!"

And so saying Julie took a quarter for herself and returned to the living room, where Isabelle's eyes widened at the size of her little sister's piece.

"What about you Izzy?" Zoe asked.

"Not for me thanks."

"Not even a tiny sliver?"

"I don't eat sweets Zoe."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because it's hard to stay thin eating like a teenager when you aren't one anymore. The better question is why are you eating that stuff?"

"Because I like food, I always have. Good food is a pleasure in life. I eat sensibly and I exercise but I don't just deny myself the food I enjoy. Everything in moderation Izzy, and that includes dieting."

"Well, maybe another night. Besides Jules looks like she's eating plenty for the both of us."

"Hey!" Julie spluttered, spewing chocolate crumbs in the process.

"Come on Izzy," Zoe said in her most wheedling voice. "You'll make us all feel bad if you're left out."

"Oh, go on then. If you're going to resort to that pathetic a plea," Zoe stuck her tongue out at her elder sister, "Then I suppose I can have a very small piece."

Adam presented Isabelle with the knife and she cut herself a near microscopic slice but it didn't matter. The thought of her eating a slightly larger piece of cake everyday for weeks, of what every little excess would bring to her model-like figure as time passed, was more than enough to keep Adam happy. As Adam and Zoe ate their cake, Zoe clearly relishing the sweet chocolate flavour, Adam watched Julie and Isabelle eat their own. Isabelle was characteristically restrained, she took tiny forkfuls from her tiny sliver and chewed slowly, savouring each morsel. The first few bites had elicited a barely audible moan of pleasure, her eyes had fluttered slightly as she was overcome by the undeniably excellent taste. While Isabelle maintained this slow, careful speed Julie clearly did not possess the same level of discipline. She attacked the cake in large spoonfuls, bringing each one to her mouth as quickly as she could. As she chewed, her eyes closed, her head tilted back slightly and she prepared another mouthful. As soon as she swallowed she was ready with the next. When she cleared her plate she licked it clean of every errant crumb and then made sure the spoon was free of any last morsels of chocolatey goodness. Isabelle, who had already finished her pudding, watched her youngest sister's gluttony with a trace of a smile on her lips, while Julie licked the last trace of chocolate from her own.

"You better be careful Jules or you won't fit into that hideous costume of yours."

"Here we go again."

"Wait. What hideous costume?" Zoe asked.

"Oh, you've never seen 'That which shall not be worn' have you?" Izzy replied gleefully.

"That which shall not be worn?"

"It's Isabelle's endearing term for my cheerleading outfit. Izzy hates cheerleaders."

"I don't hate cheerleaders, I hate ugly clothes. And that monstrosity should be burned. Red and green?" Izzy shuddered melodramatically.

"They're the school colours, and it's not that bad."

"Oh, not that bad? Then go upstairs and put it on, let Zoe see how graceful and elegant it looks."

Julie couldn't help but look down at the spotless empty plate in her hands for a moment before storming upstairs to her room. When she returned a few minutes later, to Isabelle's wolf-whistling, she was dressed in a revealing and garish ensemble that certainly was a bit much for the eyes. The costume looked like it had been designed by a teen-drama junkie suffering from colour-blindness. What drew Adam's attention though was the little bulge of her food-filled belly pressing into the indecently short skirt. Following Zoe's eyes Adam knew she'd seen it too, though Isabelle seemed far to overwhelmed by the dreadful clothes to notice such a minor change in Julie's appearance.

"Jules," Zoe said, her voice calming, "With the best will in the world that's not a very flattering outfit."

"Ha! Told you."

"Oh yes, I completely rely on the opinions of my sisters. Adam, you're the only man here, what do you think?"

At this point Adam stood up, grabbed the empty cake plates and took them to the kitchen, resolutely ignoring the stares of the three women following him out the room.

"Where are you going?" Zoe asked.

"To the kitchen looking for a sharp object."

"Look at that, your cheerleading costume has driven a man to suicide," Isabelle happily crowed.

"That's not what he said!"

Hanging his head resignedly Adam settled back onto the sofa. It would be a long night.

Fortunately an end appeared far sooner than Adam had been hoping when Julie suddenly exclaimed,

"It's eight o'clock!"

Immediately the television was turned back on, this time to the local news, where Adam was amused to see Alex in the flashy sound-effect laden roll-call. The show was about what Adam expected. An older man looking respectful and dignified, a younger woman with a smile plastered ear to ear, and news soft enough to spread on toast. Alex's weather segment was less hammy but certainly not helped by the cheesy animated graphic of a raincloud jumping around the greater San Francisco area. Adam could see her eyes drifting from side to side away from the autocue when she wasn't looking directly at the camera. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part but Adam thought she might just be hungry enough to be watching people with food walk by the weather room.

With Alex's TV appearance having successfully defused Julie and Isabelle's argument, the two talking and laughing again like it had never happened (Julie had changed out of the offending clothing after the news) the four settled in for the rest of the night. By 23:30 Isabelle had gone home and Zoe was yawning loudly, stretched across the sofa while Julie and Adam played another game of chess, their third since dinner. Eventually Zoe flicked off the TV, kissed Adam on the cheek and bid them both goodnight.

"I won't be long," Adam said as Julie fell into the carefully orchestrated knight pincer he had been planning for ten moves.

"No," Julie said as Adam moved his knight and rendered her Queen as good as dead, "He won't."

"Where did you learn to play like this?" she asked him.

"I don't know, I kind of figured it out. Chess just makes sense to me. Same as it does to you."

"To me?"

"Yes, to you. Chess attracts a certain mindset: logical, methodical, analytical. People that also tend to make pretty fair scientists." Adam wasn't being particularly subtle, especially given that he'd only met Julie the day before, but he wasn't pushing anything. Julie was looking at him now, she actually looked a little frightened. Clearly this was not a subject she wanted to talk about. Seemingly put off she made a stupid move and opened herself to a checkmate. Knowing that she wanted the game to end but not wanting to just kill her Adam rotated the board around and told her to find the mistake. Focused again on the game she quickly spotted the error and groaned. Packing up the board the two climbed upstairs, bidding each other goodnight, and Adam quietly opened the door to the room he shared with Zoe.

Zoe was still awake, she wasn't even in bed. Instead she was standing in nothing but a pair of very small panties staring at herself in a full-length mirror. Instinctively Adam turned his head and shielded his eyes only for Zoe swear under her breath and turn around to face him. Out of the corner of his eye Adam glimpsed her stunning breasts swaying gently with the movement.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, sounding irritated.


"Just look at me will you."

Adam did so, keeping his eyes firmly fixed above her neck.

"Do you find thin people ugly?"

"No, that's as ridiculous as finding thin people attractive."

"But you prefer fat?"

"I think that more fat makes someone more attractive, to a point at least. Someone can be so fat that it makes them less appealing, particularly if they don't take good care of themselves, just like someone can be too skinny. Fat doesn't make people beautiful."

"What about me?"

Adam tried to think of something to say. Was she asking him if he thought she'd be more attractive if she was heavier? He elected for silence.

"Do you think I'm ugly?"

"Why on earth would I think that? You know how sexy you are, you don't need me to tell you."

"Then why haven't you made a move?"

"Because...we're friends. What's brought this on?"

Zoe sat down on the bed, her breasts jiggling at the sharp motion, Adam joined her but kept a few inches of space between them.

"I don't understand. Why doesn't it work?"

"Why doesn't what work?"

"My magic. I'm not just supposed to be beautiful, I'm supposed to be desirable. Since I've had my powers I don't even know how many people I've slept with. Not in a slutty way or anything, I just enjoy sex, I always have, and it's so empowering to be so beautiful that people are desperate for your touch."

Adam was feeling a little uncomfortable, not to mention somewhat hot under the collar.

"I've had threesomes and foursomes, slept with gay men and straight women. I've picked up guys without saying a word, just batting my eyelids and walking out the door. And yet you," Zoe's voice started to increase and volume and intensity, "You look away from me when I'm nude, you don't stare at me when you think I'm not looking. I could have anyone and yet the guy sleeping next to me doesn't even cop a feel?"

Adam really didn't know what to say now, he was convinced he was screwed no matter what.

"You know what? Enough's enough."

And with that Zoe did something Adam had not been expecting. She pounced on him, exhibiting surprising strength as she swung him round, straddled him and pinned his arms to the bed. Adam was too stunned to move, Zoe's head and torso filled his vision, her perfect breasts and gorgeous face the only thing he could see. Her eyes were fierce, an animal-like ferocity sparkling behind her green irises, her mouth halfway between a coy smile and feral snarl. As if in slow motion Adam felt her weight shift forward, saw her lean down towards him, eyes dancing. She kissed him, a long passionate kiss that sent a tingle up Adam's spine. Instinct taking over where brain had long since given up he kissed her back, wresting his arms free and pulling her closer. As they broke apart, both somewhat breathless, they stared at each other, eyes locked together.

"Now that," Zoe said, "Is what I was looking for."

"So, you're not mad at me?" Adam asked stupidly, it was the first thing that had come to mind.

"Honestly," Zoe said, leaning close to his ear and dropping her voice to a seductive whisper, "Having to work for it is kind of a turn-on."

She kissed him again, harder than before. One hand slowly slid up his chest under his shirt while the other ran through his hair. Adam responded with renewed vigour, kissing the nape of her neck while his hands toured the supple curve of her hips, drawing her closer to him as their passion grew in both speed and intensity. Their bodies entwined. She nibbled his ear as her deft fingers worked his shirt up over his head to be quickly forgotten in a pile on the floor. Rolling her over Adam began running his hands up her curves, mouths never separating, while she swiftly unbuttoned his trousers as he hastily kicked them off. He moved his hands to her breasts, kneading them gently at first but increasing the pressure as her moans of pleasure grew. He teased the already pert nipple of her right breast between finger and thumb while simultaneously kissing the other as their hips began to instinctively grind together. His free hand gently traced the contours of her curves, a single finger running lightly down her legs before slipping back upwards to brush the inside of her thigh. Zoe's breath seized in her throat. Her legs clenched together. In a single fluid movement she yanked his boxers clean off and rolled back on top him. Grabbing his hands again she placed them hard on her buttocks, moaning as his fingers dug into her taut cheeks.

"Rip them off," she commanded, her voice dripping with urgency, and Adam wasted no time in complying with her desire.

She began to ride him, slowly, and Adam matched her movement and her rhythm, each gasping in pleasure as their bodies collided. Zoe's breasts bounced luxuriously, Adam gripped tighter onto her behind while her hands roved over his naked chest. At first Adam was too lost in the moment to feel it but as they drove into each other again and again his fingers started sinking into the soft flesh swelling from her pert cheeks. Squeezing her harder now he began to increase in speed, Zoe moaning in ecstasy and throwing her head back in wild abandon. Adam watched her breasts grow larger, bouncing and swaying more with each thrust. Soon her abs faded away beneath a sheaf of tender fat that quickly began jiggling in unison with her breasts, every breath Zoe took seeming to make it grow larger and larger. Adams hands roved over the new expanse, his fingers sending shivers and groans through Zoe's entire body as they grasped her new love-handles. As their love-making grew still more intense Adam was overcome by the sea of undulating flesh: breasts expanding before his eyes, stomach wobbling as they writhed, buttocks jiggling through his grasping fingers. Adam pulled himself upright, hands drawing her body towards him as they began kissing again, feverishly trying to find every ounce of pleasure there was to be had. Zoe's enormous breasts, nearly double their original size yet retaining their perfect shape and firmness pressed hard into Adam's chest so that the generous overflow of flesh made to envelop his arms. As Zoe wrapped her legs more tightly around him he could feel her thighs soften and grow, their plush warmth seeping into him driving their urgency to ever greater heights until he felt Zoe convulse violently as she climaxed, never pausing for a moment. Adam could feel her potbelly pressing into his own stomach now, pliable and soft he massaged the quivering mass of flesh as all of Zoe grew larger and larger. Her thighs spread wider, growing softer and more powerful, binding him to her all the more tightly as her entire body shuddered again. Everywhere his hands went they were enveloped in yielding, inviting fat. Every moment was a mixture of glory and struggle as he strove to hold on, knowing that every second Zoe became more ravishing, her body more opulent. Adam felt surrounded by fat, her breasts, her belly, her legs encased him until finally, with an agonising groan both of them reached a tumultuous crescendo and fell apart on the bed, skin shining with perspiration and each drawing deep, ragged breaths as they sought to recover.

Neither had the strength for words and Zoe certainly lacked the wherewithal to redress the expansion she had cast on herself. As she huddled against him already asleep, his arm around her shoulder and her head on his chest, Adam took a moment to enjoy the feeling of her bloated belly pressing against his side and the stunning sight of her monstrous breasts, still pert despite their size, towering above their supine forms before wearily returning her body to its normal size and falling asleep, utterly spent.

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.

Last edited by Mrak on Sat Oct 13, 2012 1:30 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Fri Aug 31, 2012 9:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter XIV

Adam woke after only a few hours of sleep. It was still dark outside, not even the faintest glimmer of the pre-dawn on the horizon, and unsurprisingly no one else was stirring. Faced with the unwelcome prospect of waiting in silence until Zoe awoke Adam endeavoured to return to sleep. Trouble was, he wasn't tired. In spite of what should have been an acute lack of sleep and the exertions of the previous night he was wide awake. Even the comfortable warmth of Zoe's nubile form pressed against him couldn't send him back into his dreams for a few more hours. He should have been tired, he should never have woken so early in the first place, but in spite of his efforts there was nothing he could do.

Lying in bed hoping the steady pulse of Zoe's breathing might help him relax, Adam took a quick examination of the house. Julie was in her room wrapped in her crimson cocoon. Buried underneath a stack of magazines that appeared to have been hastily tossed into the wastepaper basket was a veritable smorgasbord of candy wrappers. Evidently Julie concerned by her sudden uncontrollable feasting, or at least their inevitable consequence, a by-product no doubt of her mother's avid desire for her to model and the social pressures incumbent with high school. Parading around the living room in her cheerleading outfit after being magically compelled to eat a large slice of chocolate cake probably hadn't helped either. Adam was very intrigued by her transparent attempt to hide the evidence of her nocturnal gluttony, the thought of her happily eating her sugary penance only to recoil in horror when she saw the aftermath. Asleep now she betrayed none of those troubled thoughts, slight smile across her face. Adam could feel, without even trying, the faint tendrils of her dreams flitting through her subconscious. He got the impression of sunlight and open air. It was tempting to interfere, to see what a little prodding could do to her dreams, but it was still much too early for those sorts of measures.

Remotely scanning the other three girls from where he lay caused Adam no more strain than opening his eyes. There was little of interest to see other than brief glimpses into their homes. Alex's fastidiously neat apartment, Sam's cluttered desk with the hardwood surface buried beneath a three deep covering of books and papers, Isabelle's fashionable furniture and equally fashionable male model lying beside her. Alone in the dark and bereft of anything to occupy his thoughts Adam returned to the shadowy musings that had first plagued him in the dreamscape. Issues of humanity, of power, swirled around in a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions. Even in his own mind Adam felt on unfamiliar ground, like his feelings weren't part of him anymore but rather that he could see all of them, know all of them, and yet stand apart from them. He thought that it should frighten him. He wondered further if it should frighten him that it didn't.

By the time Zoe eventually opened her eyes the sun was over the horizon and Adam was so lost in his own thoughts that he barely registered her saying,


Dragging himself out of his own head, noting with curiosity that he could feel an almost physical sensation to returning his focus to the external world, Adam returned the greeting and the two lay in silence for a time. As the minutes passed Adam felt a mounting pressure on his head, barely noticeable but a continuous force. It wasn't until he saw the look of concentration on Zoe's face that he realised what was happening, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are you trying to read my mind?"

"Yes!" she huffed immediately, "Why are you blocking me? We read each other's minds all the time."

"I'm not blocking you. At least I'm not trying to. What were you looking for?"

"Well... I was wondering why you put me back to normal?"

"Because as stunning as you looked I know that being fat isn't something you're comfortable with. You looked too tired to do it yourself, so I did it for you."

"You really thought I looked stunning?"

"Nice try Zoe but I know you too well to fall for that."

"For what," she replied coyly, the corners of her lips twitching in a suppressed smile.

"The whole 'emotionally fragile and looking for reassurance' bit."

"Okay," she said, laughing, "You got me, I was on fire. Though I've got to say you weren't too shabby yourself. If being fat gets me that good a night's sleep I can probably live with it from time to time."

Adam took the compliment silently while Zoe continued to chuckle. The sun inched across the floor.

"So, how do we do this?" Zoe eventually asked.

"Do what?"

"You know, the talk? Or some talk anyway. I mean, don't get me wrong last night was biblical but..."

"But how do two people have a 'relationship' when one fattens girls for his own amusement and the other thrives on drawing the sexual desire of every creature with a pulse?"

"Well when you put it like that we kind of sound like dicks."

"Maybe. Anyway, the answer's easy. Are you looking for a relationship?"

"No! Are you?"


"Well there we are then. Nothing needs to change. It was sex, great sex," Zoe grinned, "But neither of us need it to be more than that."

"When you say nothing needs to change does that mean...?" Zoe's eyes left no illusion as to her meaning, Adam response, non-verbal, left no question as to his answer.

By the end of the week Adam's plans were beginning to bear fruit, small fruit, but fruit nonetheless. Friday lunch saw Adam, Zoe and Julie in the living room playing chess. Zoe had consented to learn, quickly picking up the rules and was now tragically struggling with the strategy. Adam knew she had hoped her powers would grant her a similar level of skill over Julie as he possessed but so far concepts didn't seem to be translating neatly into practice. Furthermore her attempts to cheat by reading Julie's mind had been quickly thwarted by Adam, a good deed for which he had paid severely. Julie's game on the other hand was looking increasingly polished. She had yet to beat Adam, though he was nearing the point where he was prepared to let her win, but her improvement in only five days was remarkable. However, it wasn't just her fine grasp of the end-game that made Julie the most agreeable of Zoe's relatives. Julie was gaining weight. Indeed she'd gained 4lbs, more than respectable in such a short space of time, but Adam knew that if it hadn't been for good genes and a youthful metabolism she would have gained more. Perhaps Adam had been naive about women's attitude to their bodies or perhaps Julie's upbringing had instilled a particularly self-critical mindset but she appeared to be terrified of her new eating habits to the tune of a cool dozen chocolatey treats each night, sometimes as many as two. The last three mornings Adam had watched her standing in front of a mirror, poking and prodding and fretting, occasionally glancing wide-eyed at the cold steel scale under her bed. And her eating? Truly a sight to behold. The weight of her problem pressing on her day by day only compounded her dilemma. Thinking about diets, about sensible eating, about what she could not and would not eat only doomed her to give in and enjoy the sinful treats she feared. And she did enjoy them. The spell removed her self-restraint, removed her concerns and trepidations and left her with nothing more than the desire to fulfil her cravings. Without the guilt holding her back she relished each morsel of food she ate, savoured every bite until the last crumbs were cleaned away. And when reality returned the counter ticked up.

What was strange was that she really had nothing to worry about. Her new weight had spread evenly over her body: a barely perceptible softening of her thighs; a fractional ripple to her rump as she walked; a near invisible suppleness to her stomach. The weight accentuated her curves. Slim hips gained a few millimetres, cleavage deepened, even her cheeks were minutely more rounded, somehow enhancing the girl-next-door charm even though the change was unnoticeable to anyone but Adam and his magical eye. The weight was so evenly scattered that not a single other person could tell she had put on an ounce, even her hawk-eyed mother. But Julie knew. She knew because she could feel her eating slipping out of control. She knew because the scale mocked her. And she knew it was going to get worse. Not being able to see the pounds was driving her crazy. Every slight movement of her body was phantom fat jiggling. All the clothes she owned felt tighter than before. All her friends were staring at the head cheerleader turning into a blubber butt. She'd tried exercise of course but it wasn't in her nature. She'd run with Zoe one morning and come back ready to faint, though Zoe insisted she'd gone easy on her poor little sister. Praise from her mother on her newfound commitment, though completely genuine, only embarrassed her further and made certain that there was no repeat performance. Not that exercise could help of course. Adam loved the true irony of the situation: if Julie simply accepted herself and lived as she pleased instead of trying to please others she wouldn't get nearly as fat.

Adam was playing both girls simultaneously on two separate boards. Zoe was assaulting his Knights with the subtlety of a brick while he manoeuvred his Bishops for a check-induced Bishop-Queen-Pawn trade while Julie was trying to use a trap Adam had showcased two days ago against his King's Rook. But in spite of the riveting distraction Adam wasn't paying much attention. He was waiting, waiting for something he had been planning for almost three weeks, ever since Zoe had made her strange request. Adam had spent a lot of time thinking about the curses he would use. He had agonised over dozens of ideas and it had only been after meeting all of them that he made his final choices from a short-list of six. But he had also spent time planning what to do when the spells were set. He had machinations brewing on a multitude of fronts, ready and waiting to give anyone who needed it a push in the right direction. A part of Adam was also looking to show-off for Zoe. She resented him a little, he knew, for being stronger than she was magically. He didn't know why he was, or rather he had several competing theories each as likely as the next, but he knew that things like his apparent immunity to her charms gnawed at her. Paradoxically though she loved it when Adam did something big, like the cheerleaders on Parker's Piece or the litany of enchantments he'd woven around her family, and he knew she'd be especially enthralled with a grand spectacle designed especially for her, or rather for her family's fattening. It might even make up for the unforeseen accident with Alex.

The thing was, not everything had gone entirely Adam's way. Indeed, Julie's soaring success was the exception rather than the norm. That Isabelle's gain would begin slowly was something Adam was prepared for. Even with the small victories he won on her first day she was still barely eating a third of a woman's RDA in calories. And now, after five long days of steady percentage increase? Still less than 1000 a day. Part of the problem of course was that she spent most of her days at work surrounded by models, her evenings at fashionable parties and her nights in her home leaving little opportunity for temptation. The other part of the problem was that she just wasn't that interested in food. To Isabelle food was something she needed, never something she wanted and Adam was going to have to find a way to change that. However, in spite of the less than stellar progress Isabelle didn't have him worried, her weight gain was a matter of when not if, but Sam was proving more of a concern.

When Adam had envisioned a girl being unable to refuse offered food he had been thinking about the early years of his undergraduate degree. Living in halls, working with fellow NatScis in the faculty building, late night impromptu corridor parties to celebrate a day ending in a "Y". Food had been as natural a part of that time as friends and studying, more than one of Adam's female classmates had grown in their new environment, but Sam's college experience didn't seem to match. People didn't study together so much, rather they sat on their own in the library working till the small hours, trying to prove their superiority by being the last person there. The common areas weren't filled with crowds laughing and talking but with small groups engaged in serious conversations. Sam was long out of halls but her apartment complex, near campus, was filled with students yet none of them seemed to socialise the way Adam had expected. As a result Sam's curse had been effectively irrelevant, though Adam hoped the holidays might improve her consumption somewhat, which was why he was particularly looking forward to getting started with his next masterstroke.

With the impatience of child Adam cast his mind out to look for Alex's car, hoping she was finally on her way to deliver the "big news" that he knew she had. Remotely watching her drive ever closer was about as scintillating as waiting for a kettle to boil but she did have a very good run of the traffic lights. Besides, it wasn't as if he needed to pay much attention to the chess: Zoe was anywhere from 3 to 10 moves away from checkmate depending on Adam's mood and Julie wasn't too far behind, having had her carefully laid trap reversed on her to the cost of her Queen. Adam stretched out the games as long as he could until he was rewarded with the sound of an engine pulling up to the front of the house. Adam ended both games just as Alex bounced in, face barely containing her excitement and jacket barely containing her.

"Guys! You'll never guess what," she said, voice practically radiating energy.

Want to bet? Adam thought, smiling.

"What?" Zoe asked. Julie was still staring at the chessboard ruefully.

"The studio is giving me my first in-the-field report!"

"What!" Julie suddenly exclaimed, leaping up and hugging her cousin. "That's amazing, I'm so happy for you. And can I say, about fricking time!"

"So," Zoe asked, "What'd they say?"

"Well, they said I'd been testing really well lately and that it was becoming increasingly difficult to send the anchors out to cover stories and then not have them on hand for emergencies. So they decided to hire a weekend weatherman, give me a shot at reporting, and see how everything looks in a month."

Adam broke his silence at this point to say "Congratulations," and then, mentally grinning ear to ear said, "But what's this report on?"

If the human mind was simple enough to understand, we would be too simple to understand it.

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PostPosted: Sun Nov 04, 2012 10:51 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter XV

"Hello, you're here with me, Alex Brinkley, on an absolutely beautiful mid-December day. But the story today isn't the good weather it's what you can see behind me, the very first Annual San Francisco Food Festival. This weekend chefs and restaurateurs, vendors and wholesalers, critics and you the public are hitting the pavements of Downtown where the streets are lined with hundreds of stalls showcasing the very best of food from across the world and right here in San Francisco. And what makes this event truly unique is that thanks to the generosity of Sucrocorp, the mayor's office, and the hundreds of volunteers who have helped make this event a reality the food here is all free! In this report I'll be speaking to the masterminds behind this momentous occasion and I'll also be talking to all of you here with me today to find the very best of the extraordinary culinary delights on offer. So please stay with us because we've barely even started, you're watching Channel 6 News with me, Alex Brinkley."

"And cut, we're clear."

Trotting over in her charcoal suit Alex quietly asked her assembled family,

"So, how'd I do?"

"You were great." "Wonderful dear." "Nice speech, and you didn't trip over yourself once."

"You're sure? I didn't oversell it with the 'momentous' stuff?"

"Actually," Adam said quietly, "there was one thing."


"In your opening intro you said something like 'the story isn't the weather', do you want your first news report to remind people they're used to seeing you in front of a computerised map?"

Alex stared dumbly for a moment, mouth gaping in incredulity.

"How did I not see that?" turning back around she called out to her cameraman, "Henry! Roll it again. I want to take another whack at it."

While Alex was making her second attempt on what was, in Adam's humble opinion, a slightly over-zealous introduction for a puff piece, he took a moment to relish his surroundings. Weeks of work, of manipulating people's minds from hundreds of miles away to create a true marvel, his own private utopia for the weekend. Listening carefully he could hear the voices of thousands upon thousands of hungry stomachs crying to be fed. Suffused in the warm glow of gluttony surrounding him Adam was seized by inspiration, a desire to try something he had never envisioned before. Focusing his mind to a razor sharp edge he concentrated with every ounce of his strength. In his mind's eye he could see a ball of pure white building inside of him, growing larger and larger. Soon subtle striations of even brighter light began swirling across the surface creating a mesmerising pattern of shapes and phantasms across the blinding sphere. When it was finally large enough Adam relaxed his concentration and watched as the globe exploded, releasing a wave of energy that washed across the city.

The chorus grew louder.

Beside him he felt Zoe, who's head rested upon his shoulder, stir as the force of his spell echoed around them. With them were Julie, Isabelle, Sam and Zoe's parents, all of whom were spared Adam's blast in light of their more specific callings. They were in a section of the fair dedicated to Italian food (Alex had felt it lent a certain air of sophistication as a background for her opening) and the smell of pizza and pasta suffused the air, everywhere Adam looked there were people eating. But far more delectable to Adam was the intangible hedonism that pervaded the landscape, filling him with so much energy his fingertips practically crackled with electricity.

"Guys," Alex called over, "I think this might take another few goes and it'll be a while. After this I'm gunna wander around, interview some people, the guys need to shoot some B-roll. Why don't you go and enjoy the fair and we'll meet back here at six and grab some dinner?"

And with that the group disbanded. Alex resumed her discussions with the camera crew, Julie disappeared to find her friends, Sam, Isabelle and Zoe's parents headed off in opposite directions and it was just Adam and Zoe, alone again.

"I really can't believe Alex is still wearing that suit," Zoe mused to Adam.

"Look, I've apologised again and again for that, I mean seriously how was I supposed to know?"

"I just think it's surprising that of all the minute details you worked out the one thing that escaped your notice was that Alex likes to wear really tight bras to keep herself in check on camera and then you just 'happen' to curse her to gain weight where her clothes are tightest."

"It was an honest mistake, and it's not like it was a complete travesty. She only gained half a pound."

"A cup-size Adam. She gained a freaking cup-size in less than a week."

It was true of course. The highly directional nature of Adam's spell had sent every excess calorie Alex had snacked on to her chest, to dramatic effect. The fact that her clothes had not been resized for her newly rounded shape was in clear evidence in spite of Alex's determined efforts to hide her new curves. The buttons on the dark grey jacked were straining underneath the added stress and the eagle-eyed could just make out the outline of her bra against the taut white shirt poking between the buttons.

"Look, it'll work out in the end I promise. Eventually she'll be forced to upsize her wardrobe, she'll buy loose to try and downplay the change and the weight will start going someplace more fun. It really wasn't intentional." Adam's umpteenth apology was met with grudging silence. As usual.

"This is insane by the way," she said. "That you made all this, completely and utterly nuts."

"I didn't make it, I just made sure it was made."

"Completely nuts. Anyway, what do we do now?"

"Well, it's half-seven in the morning and we haven't had breakfast yet, I suggest we find some."

"Don't we need to follow someone? Make sure they, I don't know, whatever it is you have planned for them."

"You don't think letting them loose in a food festival is enough?"

"I think you wouldn't leave something like that to chance."

"Well that's true, but there's no need to follow, I can keep an eye on them remotely, nudge them if necessary. So I suggest we enjoy ourselves, I'm pretty sure I smell waffles round the corner."

Zoe's stomach gurgled in response and the decision was settled. Adam felt a little guilty about lying to Zoe. It wasn't a real lie, more a lie of omission. He had said he would be keeping an eye on the girls, he just hadn't mentioned how he would be doing it. It would just upset her. Focusing his mind again Adam sent tendrils of thought spiralling out to his four favourite subjects and established a mental link with each of them. A torrent of information, sights, smells, sounds, feelings poured into his consciousness in a roiling cauldron of chaos and clamour. For an instant Adam feared he had over-estimated his abilities in believing he could parse the data from four separate psyches but soon enough his mind calmed and he was able to divide the information into four distinct streams. Now he could experience everything that Julie, Isabelle, Sam and Alex saw, thought, felt or did while he wandered the streets of San Francisco with Zoe.


Why am I always so hungry in the mornings? I mean seriously, for the last two decades the most I ever bothered with for breakfast was a piece of fruit as I walked out the door and yet this whole week I've been absolutely ravenous after my run. I'm must be getting sick. Or old. Oh stop being so ridiculous Isabelle.


Great, now my stomach is actually making noises. In public. You'd never believe I was a model, well, unless you looked at me.


Alright, alright, I get it, food. As soon as I find something half-way healthy in this sea of calories I'll have a bite. A small bite. I may not be on the catwalk anymore but that's no reason to go blimping up. Like Naomi, he he. God, just thinking about the sight of her when she stuffed herself so full of crab cakes she ripped her dress makes me want to burst out laughing. And I swear she's been binging in secret ever since, I'm almost certain that was powdered sugar on her lips yesterday. Man I could go for a donut. Whoa, where did that come from? Snap out of it girl, you're not a wide load yet. Okay, that looks promising.

The "promise" was a stall selling fresh food made from home-grown produce but even from across the other side of the fair Adam could tell that it wasn't "diet" food.

"Hi, welcome to Healthy Attitudes, how may I serve you today?" That is one hell of Southern accent.

"Hi, um, I'm looking for something healthy but filling, anything you'd recommend?"

"Well, all our food is healthy. One-hundred percent pure organic food, no preservatives, additives or processed anything. If you're looking for something good may I suggest one of our fresh baked blueberry muffins, I eat one for breakfast every single day." Well, she's pretty thin, I guess a muffin can't be so bad.

Hunger is a wonderful motivator.

"Sure, I'll take one." What in the... that is one gigantic muffin. Well, I guess I can throw away what I don't eat.

Yeah, I'm sure they'll be plenty for the birds...


"And... we're clear. You happy with that one Alex?"

"Yeah, I think so. Definitely better." Trouble is I need perfect, if I mess this up...

"So, where to now?"

"Um..." I really should know that. I need people to watch this, what are people going to watch? Okay, interviews, interviews are where I should start. I mean, it's barely 8am and this place is packed with people, how hard can it be to find some good material?

"What do you think about interviews Henry?"

"Don't ask me, I'm just the camera guy."

He's looking at my chest again. God they really do look enormous in this shirt. Must... resist... urge to... readjust bra. Who ever heard of woman in her twenties having a growth spurt? It feels like I'm wearing a corset and I never should have worn this jacket, I'm going to look like a slut and the executives will never let me out in the field again. I'll be the ditzy, unnecessarily sexualised weather girl bimbo for the rest of my career. And a pretty short career it'll be if my only draw is a pair of C-cups, uhh... D-cups. At least they're not moving too much on camera, I'd never live it down at the station. And to top it off I'm really hungry. And I can't just go around snacking all day when I'm on camera, I'll look like some bloated pig. Raiding the grips' box of donuts when nobody's looking is one thing, but not out here. I can't risk Henry filming it, even for a joke.

Focus Alex, you're working here. You need to find someone worth interviewing. Think professionally, what's your demographic? 18-25s don't watch local news but they do better on television. Then again, I'm still in that demo so I'll look too young to do serious news. Our viewers tend to be older but the last thing I need is an interview with an octogenarian. So the middle ground. I want someone presentable but not over-the-top attractive, professional maybe. Come on there's got to be someone.

Adam threw her a bone. Look behind you...

Her! Okay Alex, professional eye. She's in her early thirties, check. No unsightly scars or tattoos, check. Cute but pretty chunky, check. Food in hand, bonus.

"Excuse me miss, would you mind giving a few minutes to talk to Channel 6?" Confidence Alex. Confidence.

"Certainly, glad to see they're covering this marvellous event."

"So, what do you think of San Francisco's Food Fair so far?"

"It's spectacular I must say. You only have to look around to see what a success it is."

"Any stall in particular that you're keeping an eye on?"

"Evita's. They're the best bakers in town and they're going all out this weekend, I've never seen such an incredible display of food in all my life. And this cinnamon roll," she waved her pastry demonstratively, "Is absolutely amazing. I had to leave before I decided to spend the whole day there."

"And cut. That was great, thanks very much. Which way is Evita's?"


Did I eat that whole thing? No, it's impossible, I must've dropped it or something, I couldn't still be hungry after eating a muffin the size of my fist. And muffin's are full of air anyway. I needed something filling, not air, maybe I can get some fruit.


"Mmm..." Zoe hummed in contentment at his side as she devoured her second plate of waffles. "Did you make all this food super-tasty? Because if so, well done."

"No, but an event like this attracts the best of the best. Of course the cynic in me suspects that since they don't have to worry about costs some of the restaurants are being more generous with the flavourings than they might have been otherwise."

"Well, I think it's high time to go and find the next delicious thing for me to eat."

"Feeling hungry today?" Adam asked, teasingly.

"Oh shut it, I've got what every woman dreams of: the ability to eat without getting fat. Trust me, if they could do it every single woman here would be gorging themselves into a coma. Although," she said, looking around, "Most of them seem to be making a pretty good go of it anyway."

It was true, even at the early hour there were some prodigious belly bulges around.

"Yeah... guess it must be good," Adam said, hoping Zoe wouldn't put two and two together.


Wow. That woman wasn't kidding.

In front of Alex was a seemingly impossible display of cakes, pastries and pies the likes of which she had never even dreamt of. A ring of tables underneath a large canopy, from which eager crowds were gleefully sampling, were covered in every confection imaginable. But it wasn't just the quantity or the way the smell of freshly baked bread infused with the sugared aroma of the sweets to create an aroma so delicious you could almost drink it, it was the phenomenal commitment to design and attention to detail. A model of the Golden Gate Bridge made from shortbread, liquorice and sponge cake with tiny frosting cars. Thousands of coloured cupcakes that together formed a giant map of the United States with tiny models of the most notable landmarks made from icing lovingly placed atop them. And in the centre of the room was the masterpiece. An eight foot tall tiered cake, alternating between vanilla and chocolate icing, decorated with intricate flowers, vines and petals, birds so real they looked like they might fly straight off the cake. And at the top was what appeared to be a tiny model of the very stall Alex was standing in, complete with miniature pastries and a perfectly to scale duplicate cake.

"Holy..." Henry exhaled behind her.

This is torturous. How can I be expected to go around making a story about food when I feel so hungry? I've got to eat something.


Really need to eat something. God I hope the mic didn't pick that up. Maybe I can sneak something while Henry's distracted. Ohhhh, but I can't eat when I have to be on camera, it's unprofessional. Unless...


"Start filming. Yeah."

"Hello and welcome to the pagoda that's been erected at the corner of Geary and Market and to the fantastical display that is the work of Evita's right here in San Francisco. And with me is the owner and master of culinary wizardry herself, Ms. Evita Escuella. So, Evita, this is a truly beautiful showcase, how long did it take you to make all this?"

"Well, it was very important to us that everything we made was fresh, it's a rule at the bakery, so everything you see around you was made today."

"You made all of this in one day?" Holy shit. Don't swear when the camera's on Alex, even in your head.

"Well, not just me. I've had lots of helpers. The whole process actually started two weeks ago when me and by husband Howard started planning our displays, perfecting our designs and so on. We've actually made everything you see here two or three times in small scale to practice."

"And are you happy with the results?"

"Absolutely ecstatic. As a cook there's nothing more gratifying than to see people enjoying your food. It's turned out better than I could have hoped." Her eyes are actually shining with tears, this is going to make a great interview!

"So, what else do you have planned for the fair?"

"Each day there's going to be a completely new display. This fair gives us an amazing opportunity to try new recipes and get lots of feedback, the support from all my regulars has been just incredible. Also, we're entering a number of competitions over the course of the weekend, Howie's taking part in the bake-off tomorrow and we're contributing to a lot of the events as well, today for instance we're providing food for the pie-eating contest."

"Wow, where do you find the energy? I'm almost afraid to ask if there's anything else."

"Just one thing, anything I can get you?"

"Well," Alex dropped her voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper, "Now that you mention it I am a little peckish, anything here you'd recommend for a hungry reporter?"

"Actually," Evita replied, producing a tray from under a counter, "I have a selection of my favourites right here."

"Ooh, these all look too good to eat."

"There's no such thing mi amor, so please try a bite and tell me what you think."

Okay, éclair, bad idea, too messy and let's not think about the innuendo. A donut, a little pedestrian and too early for something so sweet. Why don't I just eat all of them? Because you're on camera Alex. Maybe if I was taste-testing... Oh stop worrying Alex and just eat already.

Alex grabbed a pastry with a light sprinkling of powdered sugar and rows of chocolate icing and took a tentative bite. Her entire body shivered slightly at the taste and her eyelids fluttered in excitement.

Where has this been all my life? Okay, Alex keep a cool head, do NOT stuff this pastry into your mouth till you're off camera.

"I see you like it, yes?"

"Like it, I think I'd like to be left alone with it, this is the most amazing pastry I've ever tasted! I'm no food critic but I'd say you're a shoo-in for 1st place."

"Oh, you are too kind."

"Thank you very much for taking the time to talk to me Evita, good luck in the competition, and remember everyone come on down to the Evita pagoda for some truly out of this world food."

"And... clear."

"How was that Henry?"

"It was... brilliant. I think you're on to something here. Going around and doing spotlights on the most exciting and innovating booths could make a great segment."

"You think so? Well awesome, let's get to it. Evita, any chance I can get a few of those pastries to go?"

I'd better be careful not to spoil my appetite, sounds like I'm going to be tasting a lot of food today.


I'm so bored. And full. Finally. A blueberry muffin, two apples, some British bagel-like thing covered in butter and a cheese and red pepper omelette and I'm finally not hungry anymore. Why am I eating so much? Is it just the complete absence of anything else to do in this place? I'm happy for Alex and all, getting her first gig in the field is great, but could she not have covered a fashion show or something? Food is just so... dull. Maybe my outlook is a little biased after being a model but if I can get by on steamed vegetables and lean chicken all cooked in five minutes why would I bother spending hours in a kitchen?

What does good food get you anyway? Fat is what. I mean, look around me, people gorging themselves as far as the eye can see. That woman's practically forcing a pizza down her throat even though her shirt's rolled up over her bloated stomach. Belly-shirts don't look good on anyone but they really look terrible on women with actual bellies. She actually has an engagement ring as well, no wedding band though. Eating away her cold feet? I wonder how many sizes she'll need to up her dress. And look, here's the fiancé bringing... another pizza. She's got him well trained, I'll give her that.

Then there's the cleavage brigade. I'm sure those girls think their teenage metabolisms are insurmountable but they've been sitting by that Italian gelato stall for at least the last hour getting cone after cone after cone. I mean, who eats ice-cream in the middle of winter? The one on the left has this whole low-cut spaghetti strap cami-top thing that is so out-dated it's almost sad. And they're all in desperate need of a larger size too. The last time I saw that much breast-flesh oozing out of a bra was my Halloween costume, only I looked cute instead of overfed because I wasn't wearing ice-cream instead of lipstick. Sweet Gucci mother of handbags that woman has the biggest ass I have ever seen in my life. I mean, honestly, how did she even get into those jeans? I'm twenty yards away and I can practically hear the sound of her thighs rubbing together. And what's she doing, why she's eating of course. With a great big smile on her face. Oh, hang on a minute, she's clutching her stomach, she's stuffed herself so full she's going to explode. Brace for impact everyone, it's going to... OH MY GOD she just unbuttoned her jeans! I can see her underwear and now her belly looks almost as big as her ass. What the hell is going on? Either I'm hallucinating or every single woman here is trying to eat themselves out of their clothes. Is there something wrong with these people? Or is it me? What is the big deal about food?

I can't even go to the office and get some work done. Of all the weekends for them to be fumigating. I could go home I suppose but there's nothing much to do there either and then I'd have to head back here for dinner later. Still, probably preferable to get some walking done, burn off my excessive breakfast before I start looking like the rest of them.


Adam and Zoe continued to wander the stalls and admire the sights. By keeping an eye on all parties concerned Adam was able to keep everyone away from each other to enjoy their own private tour of the delicacies on offer. Zoe in particular was finding every new discovery an unmissable adventure.

"Auuggh," she groaned from her seated position on the bench. "This churro is fuckin-a."

"Is it now? Do you want another? Maybe you could mix it with that Stracciatella ice-cream you liked so much, I'm sure that would work well."

"Ooh that sounds gooood. But I'm so full, I feel like a whale."

Adam just chuckled in response.

"What? Why are you laughing?"

"Well look around you. Everyone's eating, overeating in fact. Shirts are riding up bellies, swollen middles are hanging over pants, navels are popping from outie to innie and yet you, you don't look as if you've eaten a single bite."

For emphasis Adam poked Zoe in her still perfect abs, feeling nothing but her soft skin and firm muscles beneath. Groaning still louder at the vicious assault Zoe let loose an impressive belch before continuing to eat her fried dough, too preoccupied by her food to punish Adam.

"You know," Adam continued, voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "I think you need to keep eating. I know you're using magic to keep your figure perfect. I know that if it weren't for your spell your belly would be so bloated it would pop the button off your pants and send it flying down the concourse. But still you keep eating."

Zoe kept eating.

"Your magic only makes you look thin, it's not making the food go someplace else, otherwise you wouldn't be full. So why, I ask myself, would you want to be so incredibly stuffed? Maybe it's like you said earlier, you enjoy indulging in what others can't and the fullness is some kind of rush of power. Are you thinking about what your sisters would look like if they ate like you? Your cousins? Can you imagine how your mother would react if Isabelle turned up for dinner with a giant food baby? Or if Julie ate so much that her bloated stomach ripped her dress?"

Zoe ate faster still. Her breathing was growing heavier. When she finished the churro she immediately teleported three more to her lap from the nearby stall, and a bowl of ice-cream for contrast.

"Or maybe you liking the fullness has nothing to do with your sisters. Is it possible, I wonder, that even when you didn't think you were pretty you still denied yourself? Even though you thought you were fat you knew deep down that if you gave into to your stomach's calls you could be even larger, didn't you? Is that part of the fantasy, to not just be thin, not just be the most stunning, most gorgeous, most dazzling woman on the planet but to be able to eat without holding back, without consequence?

As Zoe's eating sped up still further crumbs of dough and flecks of ice-cream hurtled perilously towards the pristine midnight blue top only to be whisked away by magic to her relentless jaws.

"Then again, maybe this eating isn't just about your desires. Would it be arrogant to suggest that part of this hedonistic revelry is for me? You said it yourself, I'm the only one who could possibly resist you, no one else would be able to look away from your flawless naked body. So maybe, just maybe, the reason why you're so hungry today is that you know how sexy it makes you. No man alive can resist a woman who understands that pleasure," Adam stressed the word, "is about indulgence."

The last of food disappeared in a flurry of activity as Zoe wolfed down the remaining morsels so fast her hands became blurry pink shadows. Her rapid breathing gradually slowed to a steady pant as she mouthed as single barely audible word:



Isabelle had been walking for several hours trying to work off some of the calories from her extended breakfast. Of course thanks to Adam exercise couldn't do that for Isabelle so all she'd done was work up an appetite. And just in time for lunch too.

"Arggh." The guttural growl of frustration was Isabelle's attempt at quiet venting in a public area filled with noise. Thankfully though someone was on hand to hear.

"Excuse me, are you alright?"


The woman serendipity had placed Isabelle next to was standing behind a professional looking stall under a white awning with a tasteful logo but no name etched into the overhang. The woman was blonde, her hair pulled back into a neat pony-tail that highlighted her oval face, light blue eyes and wide, inimitably genuine smile. She really was rather pretty. She was also pretty chubby. Below the slightly round face (which admittedly showed no sign of a double chin) two decidedly impressive orbs vied for space inside a rose pink cooking apron. Though large her breasts couldn't hide the smaller but prominent bulge of her stomach, or the way it rolled around sideways, sticking out past the apron to form thick love-handles that rippled as she shimmied behind the booth. Standing behind the low curved counter hid her bottom-half completely but given the over-abundant curvature spilling over the table-top it was hard to imagine anything other than voluptuous thighs and a rear-end to rival a truck.

"Oh, I didn't mean to intrude but you look a little down. Anything I can do to help?" This girl is way too sweet and wholesome for my tastes.

"No, I'm fine really. Just a little bored." And hungry. Really fricking hungry. Again.

"Bored? How can you be bored here? Just look around you, the sights, the smells, it's intoxicating!"

"Yeah, no offense intended or anything but I just don't get that worked up about food."

"Have you ever tried to?"


"Have you ever tried to enjoy food?"

"What do you... of course I've eaten food before."

"It's not about eating, it's about savouring. I'll tell you what, give me a minute to whip up a little taster and then we'll see if we can convert you."

"Okay." Sigh. At least this will pass another few minutes of interminable tedium.

The blonde began chopping and grinding and squeezing a litany of ingredients, none of which held any meaning to Isabelle, until eventually she presented a pair of mini open-top sandwiches.

"What are they?"

"A snack, one for you and one for me. Go on, take it. Good, now take a bite but don't chew, let the flavours mix in your mouth. Don't swallow when you answer, what do you taste?"

"Uh, shamon?" Talking with my mouth full, this is disgusting. Not bad food though.

"Good, now chew, slowly, what else do taste?"

"Lemon?" Okay, I'll admit it, this is good. She's still weird though, and... annoyingly peppy.

"Lime juice actually, freshly squeezed. Next?"

*Gulp* "Look, I'm sorry, that was really nice but I just don't know what else is in there."

"Well there's your problem."

"What?" I don't have a problem.

"Food is like music, anyone can listen but to really enjoy great music you have to do more than just hear the notes. Context and history, the subtle variations a conductor adds, I don't know... other music-y things, those are what gives music its power and it's the same with food. How can you hope to really appreciate food if you can't even taste what you're eating?"

"But that's..."

"Silly? Okay, what are you passionate about?"


"And when people say there's no depth or meaning to fashion what do you say?"

"That they're... well played. Alright, I see your point. Where did you learn to appreciate food then?"

"My boyfriend. I was fresh out of high school, no college prospects, so I started working at a restaurant as a waitress. Michael was one of the junior chefs and he used to be in late on clean-up. He started cooking for me, trying out new recipes, he had a real gift. Eventually he started teaching me. Now he's the head chef at Le Blanc and I'm sous."

"Le Blanc? That's a nice restaurant. Wait a minute, I met a Michael who was a chef at a fundraiser last year, about six foot, short dark hair, really nice Armani tuxedo?"

"That's my man." Well he's way out of your league dear, but not mine. This just got interesting. "You know he's teaching a series of cooking classes this weekend as part of the fair, if you really want to learn something about food I can get you in."

"That actually sounds really great, thanks so much Sue."

"Oh, no ha ha, 'sous' as in 'sous-chef' a position in the restaurant. My name's Liz."

"Isabelle." And here I thought today was going to be a total bust.


"This is the first time I've ever tried a feta cheese omelette but I sincerely hope it's not the last."

"It's hard for me to say which is more remarkable, this beautiful display, the breakfasts made to order, or these pancakes."

"All my life I thought maple syrup was the natural pair with waffles but after trying your chocolate sauce and home-made cream you can consider me a convert."

Whew. Well, I'm not hungry any more. What was that, booth six? Seven?

"Henry, how many spots have we done?"

"Eight." Eight! "The guys in the edit bay are going to have a nightmare working out what to cut, these interviews have been amazing, they may actually have to extend your segment."

"You think?" I can't believe how well this is going. And the food is soooooooo good. Gotta take a break though, can't look bloated on camera. One thing I'll say about the giant breasts, they are helping hide the full stomach.

"Okay Henry, I think we can take a break on the stall interviews for a bit, let's go find the mayor, it's only an hour till our interview." Plus, I kinda keep eating the food after you've stopped shooting and I'd rather my stomach didn't actually bust my skirt in front of the mayor.


"Welcome, ladies and gentleman, thank for coming. My name is Michael but from this point on you will call me Chef, do you all understand?"

"Yes Chef." God this is ridiculous. Though I gotta say chef is even more handsome than I remembered.

"In front of each of you is a platter, underneath the platter are three samples. Each of you is going to try the samples and then mark your favourite on the card provided. Whichever dish gets the most votes is what I will be teaching you to make today. Do you understand?"

"Yes Chef."

"Then begin."

Okay, so what do we have under here? I have absolutely no idea. Okay, that's some sort of salad, that looks like lamb and that... looks like it has some chocolate in it? So what are we doing here? Well, everyone seems to be eating everything, guess it'd be rude to do otherwise.

That's not a salad! There's way too much flavour, there's no way that's healthy. Sure is yummy though. Yummy? What am I, 5? This lamb thing is bigger than it looks, I thought this was supposed to be a sample menu? Okay, chocolate thing. I really don't need to eat this, even if I am hungry. Oh crap, he's walking over here. Okay Isabelle, do your thing.

Isabelle moved with the unconscious competence of a person for whom seduction was not a matter of experience but instinct. She was completely calm, no cares or worries as she delicately took a sliver from the dark brown dessert. She paid him no mind, she was not performing for him she was practising her art. She took the flake of chocolate-laced delight and brought it gently to her lips, allowing her dark red lips to brush the cake as it passed them. There were no theatrics. No eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, no moans of ecstasy or orgasmic quivers. Her pupils dilated, just a fraction, and as her target walked by she exhaled just loud enough for him to hear. Perfection. Except...

He didn't even pause as he went by! He didn't even pay me a second glance. Bastard. Well, there's plenty of time left, I should probably make a choice. I'd quite like to find out what he put in that salad actually. The dressing was a little rich but with a few healthier substitutions I bet it would still taste alright.

"Okay, so the votes are in and the winner is... the Dark Chocolate Cheesecake." Fuck.


So this is what the organisers call Baker's Lane huh? I can't imagine why. Holy... the smell is incredible. How can I even think that? I've been stuffing myself all morning and now I'm hungry again, this is just stupid. And I swear this jacket is getting tighter as we walk. Maybe it's the way the bra's sitting, I need to find a bathroom and sort this out. Why would anyone want breasts this large? More importantly, why is the mayor meeting us down here anyway?

"Hi, I'm Alex Brinkley with Channel 6, I have an appointment to interview the mayor."

"Regarding what?"

"Nuclear test-ban treaties, what do you think?"

"Oh, right sorry, I wasn't really listening. Wait, Ms Brinkley?"


"Oh thank goodness you've arrived, her honour was hoping to ask a favour of you." A favour? I wonder if this'll help my segment...

"Well of course if I can be of service."

"Good good, come this way."


"Excellent work. Now take the cookies and put them in the blender, you want them down to a fine powder. That's going to add flavour to our crust while maintaining a smooth texture."

He's coming past again, okay keep your eyes on the blender. Wait for it... Wait for it... Now!

In a single natural sweep of her arm Isabelle removed her blended cookies and poured them into the pan while simultaneously knocking the empty plastic measuring jug onto the floor behind her. She desperately clutched after it as it flew into the air but it snaked through her fingers and, triumphantly, she turned to retrieve. Exactly on cue Michael turned at the commotion to see Isabelle, bent over at the middle as she picked up the jug presenting her attractively round and yet beautifully toned rear pressed into the seat of her designer slacks. Isabelle knew that her sumptuous ass filled the pair to the brim and that her top was just the right size to pull up as she leant forward and reveal an inch of her smooth, tanned back and the slightest glimmer of her black thong. The poor boy never stood a chance.

Gotcha! Aw look at the little thing, his eyes are about to pop out of his head. I think... innocent is the best way into his pants.

"Um, sorry about that, that was..."

"N-n-no worries. It's just plastic after all, he he." Nervous tittering? You did get a full blast of my assets didn't you?

"Does this look ground enough to you?"

"Looks perfect, absolutely tip-top perfect."

"Thanks Chef." And a gentle smile to finish it off.


"Ah, Ms. Brinkley so glad you're here. May I call you Alex?"

"Of course Madam Mayor, your assistant said you wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes, I know you're scheduled for an interview now but I wondered if you would mind delaying it for an hour?"


"Well, I'm about to be one of the guest judges in the apple pie bake-off and Justice Long was supposed to join me but he's had to take his wife home."

"Is she okay?"

"Oh, yes I'm told she'll be fine. Apparently she had a little too much to eat and felt unwell. But, I now need a second guest judge and I thought you'd fit the bill perfectly."

"Me? A judge in a food competition? I'm not remotely qualified for that?"

"Ha! Neither am I dear but it doesn't matter. There's five judges, three experts and two schmucks who wouldn't know the business end of a rolling pin. So, what do you say? I'd wager it'd make a great segment in your story, and afterwards we could do a nice long interview together."

"Sounds like a wonderful idea, I'd be honoured."


"Good, now add the melted butter and the sugar and blend again." Yeah, because we need more calories in this monstrosity.

"When you think yours is ready it's time for the most important part. In fact, the most important rule of cooking: taste as you go. We're trying to make something delectable, something mouth-wateringly wonderful, and if we're going to have any hope of getting it right we have to constantly check everything we do, make sure every single building block is as good as we can make. So, all of you, grab a spoonful and taste. It should be sweet, light and above all smooth."


Shut-up stomach, you don't need food, you've no business being hungry. At least the blenders hid the sound. Oh great, he's looking at me again, guess I'll have to make it look good. He really seems to like watching me eat. Guess it makes sense for a cook to have a few food fetishes, those might be fun to try out when I drag him home.

"Now, taste each of your neighbour's efforts. Offer criticism where needed, don't hold back."

He's staring again. Definitely horny. Can't blame him really, all the time he's been dating chubby Lizzy he's probably been desperate for a chance with someone as sexy as me.

"Now, while that bakes for five minutes chop the chocolate nice and fine, we're gunna be melting it so the smaller you make it the quicker it gets done. Melting chocolate has to be done carefully, if you burn it it will be completely ruined so here's a tip: Fill a pan with water and bring it to the boil. Put your diced chocolate into the metal bowl, then place that into the boiling water. That's going to give us a nice, even, gradual heat and lots of delicious chocolate to make our filling."

This is just ludicrous. I honestly can't think of how he could cram more calories into this dessert.

"Now this stuff is over 80% cocoa, so if you give it a taste you'll find it a bit bitter but it has real depth of flavour. Of course this is a proper sweet so we'll need to add some sugar as we melt to find the right balance."

Of course...


Alex was seated at a long white table with the Mayor on her left. Past the mayor sat the other three judges, two men and woman. The men were remarkably athletic looking for professional food critics whereas the woman, who was somewhere around her early thirties, was as round as a balloon. Her enormous belly rested heavily on her lap and buoyed her breasts up under her chin, giving the distinct impression that she had been inflated with a bicycle pump.

"Welcome one and all to the judging of the Apple Pie Bake-Off. The rules are as follows: Each contestant will submit their entry to the judges, anonymously, who will then mark down their scores, privately, on the forms provided. Scores are given out of 100 and cover five criteria: Appearance, Texture, Pastry, Presentation, and Taste, each section being worth a maximum of 20 points. Entries are then ranked by the total cumulative score."

Oh man, what am I doing up here? I don't know what I'm looking for and frankly the smell of pie is making me so hungry that anything will taste good. I can't look like an idiot doing this, the camera's rolling. I could try and watch one of the professionals, do what they do. No, idiot, you'd look like a complete tool. You're not a critic, you're a broadcaster. Oh, I'll just keep an eye on the mayor's scorecard and eat some pie.

"Presenting, entry #1."

Wow that is a good-looking slice of pie. And à la mode too, is that homemade vanilla ice-cream? Okay, Appearance. Well, um... I can't even spout this bullshit in my head. Okay, screw it, Texture. Crust is light and flaky, I guess that's good? The base is a bit soggy but I actually like that. Oh this is impossible. Right, that's enough of this, Taste. Oooooo, that's what I was hoping for. Another bite I think, with some of the ice-cream this time. Mmmmm. There's a little bit of cinnamon, just enough to give a bite, the ice-cream's delicious but maybe a little too creamy? I'll try another... you know what there's nothing wrong with that ice-cream, it's a lovely pairing with the sour apple. Um... 17/20? What are the other judges doing? Snooty nose is still staring at it. The other guy is... chewing? Holy hell the woman just ate half that pie in one bite! Oh crap, gotta get on with it, just write numbers down Alex.

Hey, did I eat that whole slice?


"So while we leave our desserts cooking I thought we'd have a little competition, something I like to do with my team in the restaurant to hone their skills, a game I call 'Name that Ingredient'.

Fucking hell, this again.

"So, the aim of the game is simple. I give you all something to eat and you have to write down every ingredient you think went into it, we'll begin with... these." Oh look, more desserts. Shocker. This guy better be good in bed, I'm gonna need to burn some serious calories.

Okay, so I should try and work out what is in this... cake? So, let's guess without actually eating anything. Eggs, flour, milk. There's jelly too, damn it I mean jam. I always do that. Probably need to know what type... Screw it I'm done eating for the day, it's red so it's probably raspberry. Icing... what goes in icing? Sugar obviously. Maybe cream? Wouldn't surprise me.

"You know," Hey, where did he come from? "It's a lot easier to play the game if you eat the food."

"Oh, I know, I just wanted to see how much I could guess first. Uh," just eat it Isabelle, "Mmmmmm. That's really nice. Cinnamon?"

"Shhh, don't want to spoil it for the others." He's winking at me. Now I see why he's with the hippo, he's a bit of a dork. A hot dork, but definitely a dork. Well, I guess I'd better keep 'tasting'.

Huh. It was strawberry.


Okay, that's another pie done.


How many rounds has it been?

"And now, entry number #12"

Twelve! But I've practically eaten everything they've given me, God I must look like such a pig. I was so hungry though. And those guys take so long making their judgements, what else was I supposed to do, sit twiddling my thumbs while these absolutely amazing apple pies get cold? Then again, Big Bertha's matching me bite for bite, so at least I'm not alone. In the company of a 300 pound sphere of fat, nice job Alex. Got to say though that the way she eats is impressive, I hope Henry's been getting some good shots. She gobbled down some of them in one go! I guess you don't get a belly that large without some pretty serious practice, I doubt she's even getting full.

Hey, look at this. They've baked the pie in the shape of an apple. That's really cool, top marks for presentation for sure. As for flavour... it's good but the last few were better. The insides aren't tart enough to pair with the custard. You know what, I'm putting the fork down, there's no need to eat any more of this.

Even if I am still kinda peckish.


Strawberry Sponge Cake, Lemon Meringue Pie, Sticky Toffee Pudding, Chocolate Soufflé. Does this guy know any recipes that aren't sweets? And he keeps wandering over to make sure I'm enjoying them, I feel absolutely stuffed. If he makes me eat one more bite I'm not going to be able to hold my stomach in.



How is it that these pies seem to smell better and better? I swear I'm feeling hungrier and hungrier the more I eat. Then again the two men spend so long on each sample that we've been here for over an hour and half. How many more of these can there be? Also... after this I've got to find a bathroom, this... bra... is... definitely... shrinking. This is not natural, am I allergic to something? I've got to find a way to loosen this thing without anyone noticing.


Okay, let's not move like that again. Creaking is not a noise I want to hear from my jacket button. Maybe if I take the jacket off? Then I could open the button and not have it explode off me. If I hang it up behind my chair I might even be able to surreptitiously unhook the damn straps before they cut me in half. What am I saying I'm on camera! If my newly enlarged melons aren't in a bra they're going to bounce every time I take a mouthful. And come to think of it I'm not sure how well my shirt's doing underneath, feels pretty taut. Actually, feels a little draughty... maybe the buttons are gaping? Right, jacket stays on. Just don't make any sudden movements, Alex.


Huh? Oh hell while I've been panicking about my breasts I've just stuffed another pie into my stomach. At this rate when I get up from this table I'm going to look pregnant.


"Okay, so your meals are ready, now you get to reap the rewards of your hard work."

Is he serious?

"I want everyone to cut a slice out of their cheesecake, stick it on a plate and bring it over. Everyone's going to try everyone's so there's no need to feel self-conscious.

Try everyone's cake? There's... 16 of us in here. This is a cooking class not an eating class.

The class assembled as directed and they all began trying the food. Slice by slice they all took a mouthful, Isabelle unable to take the minute crumbs she would have preferred under the eager gaze of Chef Michael. One thing was immediately apparent, no one had gotten close to achieving the same light decadence of the original dessert. Every slice seemed thicker and richer than the last until Isabelle felt that chocolate was pouring out of her ears. Finally Isabelle's dessert was presented for inspection. To her immense surprise the assembled crowd began letting out murmured moans of pleasure, even Michael seemed surprised. Curious as to whether she had actually cooked something edible Isabelle forked the final morsel left.

Wow! This is great. I don't want to blow my own trumpet or anything but this is better than Michael's. And just look at everyone, they're smiling. I never realised how gratifying it could be to see someone else enjoy food I cooked. I should take it home and see what the others think. Well, maybe this ordeal does have a silver lining. Okay, I've eaten a bit too much but it's not like I eat like this every day is it?


"And now, presenting #24, the final entry in this year's Apple Pie Bake-off."

Thank *bleep* for that, much more of this and this jacket would have exploded.

Just take a bite, write down the score and set the fork down Alex. No sudden movements, no unnecessary strains. Good. Now, let's inspect the damage while I'm safely behind this table. How inflated is my stomach?

That's weird. It's not empty but it's not exactly the bulging mass of corpulence I was expecting. Maybe I didn't eat that much after all. No, that's silly I've tried two dozen apple pies. I mean, okay most of them were just slices and the ones that weren't were small but I must have completely emptied at least half of the plates, probably more. And all the ice-cream and custard and cream that's come with. Come to think of it I should have exploded long ago. Even Bertha's starting to look full now, though she has probably eaten more than me. And everything I ate in the morning interviews as well!

"The scores will now be tallied and the results announced in half an hour. We'd like to thank the many competitors who put so much effort into this competition."

Gentle applause Alex, no jostling. And I should signal Henry to cut, we've got more than enough footage of this event.

"And now, please, a round of applause for our judges."

The judges filed off the stage and into the nearby tent where the Mayor took a moment to personally thank each of the professional judges before they left for their next engagement. Eventually, it was just Alex and the Mayor left.

"Well dear, that wasn't a bad way to spend my lunch hour."

"No ma'am. Thank you for inviting me to take part."

"Thank you for helping out, you were excellent. Actually, I don't know where you put it all, skinny thing like you."

"I don't feel that skinny at the moment."

"Nonsense, you look as though you've barely eaten. The benefits of youth ehh? Well, as promised I owe you an interview. Shall we say fifteen minutes and then we'll get started?"

"Sounds great, thank you. I'll be right back."

If I hurry I can run to the nearest bathroom, fix these clothes and be back in plenty of time. Finally, let's go.

It was a moment Adam relished, so long had it been in the making. Presented at last with the chance to fix her steadily deteriorating wardrobe Alex couldn't help but spin hurriedly on her heels to dart out of the room. Unfortunately for Alex even after her body had ceased swivelling her breasts continued and the sudden flurry of jiggling that ensued as her breasts, now two sizes too small for underwear that was meant to be tight in the first place, writhed out of the confines of her bra and, unrestrained, surged forwards to finally launch the jacket button clean across the tent. With the jacket now open the true state of her shirt's distress could finally be seen in the perfect outline of her extravagant bosom against the inflexible fabric and the glimpse of her abundant curves peeking through the gaps between the buttons.

"Did you hear something Alex? Sounded like a cork popping."

"N-no, ma'am I didn't hear anything."

Last edited by Mrak on Thu Jun 18, 2015 12:35 am; edited 1 time in total
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