Fatter

You realize that you can't do this, the wolf is as much a victim as you, you release your grasp and tell him to leave. You look in a hallway mirror, and are distraught at what you see. Your belly is bulging forward like a ballon full of corn meal, it jiggles simply with the motion of you breathing, your legs are as thick as tree trunks, soft and weak, you're surprised they hold you, your arms are like thick sausages, only softer and fattier, they are kept from bending much by the blubber and you can barely reach the base of your stomach. Your back is a mass of thick, pillowy rolls of fat, your buttocks are two huge mounds of pure blubber, shaking almost as much as your belly, they have torn rips in the boxers that are your only clothing, they soon come off, not that it matters, your thick fast covers up your lower areas, your neck has fattened into at least eleven chins, made of bubbly fat. Your face is puffy and plump, cheeks fat as pillows, it is an effort to open your mouth against all of the fat. Your manly breasts have fattened up to the size of watermelons, rolls of fat surrounding them. You try to move your arms to your face, to make it easier opening our mouth, but you only get to your moobs, which you think have just gained another blanket of soft fat. Your entire body is an over-sized tub of lard, but since you let the werewolf go, you'll have to find a new way of stopping, this. You breath heavily, every fat waddle a huge effort, until you reach the main hall, where you find the witch waiting for you with crossed arms

Written by Wolves

You collapse.

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