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You never learn, do you?

You realise that you miss the feeling of extra muscle from Rufus' body, and make your second wish. " I wish I was bigger."

The leprechaun grins, then snaps his fingers and covers you in green dust. You grin as you feel the extra weight beginning to pile on, and flex to see your biceps. Strangely, they don't bulge the way you thought they would. Instead of going rock-hard, they seem to droop off your arm. You shrug it off as a trick of your eyes, and place your hands on your abdomen to feel your gut. You jiggle it around a bit, not really noticing the difference, then realise that the leprechaun's making you fat. Just great. You call his attention, and he looks at you, puzzled.

"Tell me," you say. "What is wrong with this picture?" you bounce your growing stomach around for extra effect.

"Not fast enough for you, laddie? Sorry bout that - I'll speed it up for you." He snaps his fingers again. "And I'll make it permanent, so you don't have to ask later." He disappears.

"Wait, no! That's not what I meant!" Too late - your gut grows at an increased rate, and your chin count grows to two. You grasp at your growing body, as you slowly begin to take on the same shape as you were when you were with Peter. Your sides begin to bulge, and your chest swells to form moobs. Your pants begin to fill out with your ass and thighs, and your arms thicken into sausages. Your shirt grows tighter, then buttons start popping off, releasing the pressure of your gut, which quickly begins to extend over your belt. You turn your head to get a look at the rest of your body, which causes your sides to crease and fold as your belly droops towards the ground. The floor starts creaking, and your feet begin to hurt from all the extra weight, so you lean against a wall to take the pressure off them.

You notice a mirror to your right, and heave yourself off the wall to get a closer look. What you see disgusts you - your not as fat as Peter, but you're still pretty big. You look like one of those guys you see at Mc Donald's, with their guts resting on the table as they stuff their faces with food. You rub yours absently, feeling it grow beneath your fingers. Looking back to the mirror, you see that your belly and chest have completely destroyed your shirt, and that your singlet is steadily rising up your stomach, despite it being an elastic X-L. You look down, resting your many chins against your manly breasts, and realise that you can't see your feet anymore. You start to feel an uncomfortable hinderance around your lower areas, and reach underneath your belly to find that your belt is still fighting against your growth. You attempt to loosen it, but give up when your gut begins to get in the way. Your pants finally give way to your swelling thighs and calves, and tear until they resemble a loincloth. Your singlet, which has become trapped around your moobs, finally tears and releases their full girth. The pain in your feet becomes excruciating, and you subconsciously wish for a chair, which appears in front of you in a cloud of green sparkles. You sit down in it, and the pressure of your gut finally breaks your belt, sending the tattered leather and buckle flying into a wall. You give up and slump in the chair, silently cursing the leprechaun and your horrible wishing skills as you drift to sleep.

Written by an anonymous author

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