Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
"That should be enough," says the witch suddenly, twirling a finger in the air. Suddenly you don't feel as hungry, the pace of your gorging slows to a halt as you finally feel your stomach fill up. "ohhhhhhh," you groan in discomfort, as you finally can think of something other then food, and feel the expanse that is now you, a small, self contained ocean of flab crammed into a cage too small for him, you rub at yourself in disbelief, feeling the soft flesh give way to your probing and creating small ripples throughout you ponderous body which shifts which each movement.
"Time for you to go in the oven," she says, and the cage seems to vaporize into nothing, letting your belly sag out over your knees as it is released from it's containment. You see your chance to escape, and rise to run... or at least try to. Your body wobbles as you try to shift your weight, but with your own stomach pinning your legs to the ground and the huge mass of your butt anchoring you in the back, it feels like trying to rise out of a huge beanbag, except the bean bag is all you.
The Witch sees your struggles and give out a little laugh, "Need a hand there?" she teases, before snapping her fingers, and you feel your bulk lift upwards undulating from side to side as you rise to your feet, which disappears beneath the horizon of your stomach which almost bulges to the ground as you stand, while the rest of you sags down in countless rolls around your bloated round body. You can't even twist around yourself enough to see to floor! Still you are standing at least, and try to run... only to find lifting your foot like trying to run with a set of barbells tied to your legs and tied in a sack of molasses. You take one step, and bend over wheezing from the exertion, your stomach stomach, rolls and chest wobbling like an ocean in a storm.
"Awww, tuckered out already?" says the witch, "You should join me for dinner." He fingers glow and you feel yourself being pushed along by an invisible force to the other side of the cottage where a large over sits open. You try to back track against it, but your weight is too much for you to maneuver in any way you want, and you are forced forward onto a huge cooking tray, rolling over your stomach before you are rolled onto your back, your weight pinning you down. You try to struggle up, but only manage to flail your arms around while the rest of you just jiggles and wobbles ineffectively. The which watches as onions and potatoes cut themselves and lines the sheet around you like some grand turkey dinner. You would look into the over to see how hot it looks, but your belly rises far too high for you too see, and you can only panic as you realize you are about to be a thanksgiving dinner for a witch!
Written by an anonymous author
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