This choice: You're too fat for the scale! • Go Back... The scale reads back only three letters to you: ERR
You frowned, stepped off to reset it, then stepped on it again. Once again, the scale came back with the error code. You knew right then that either the scale was broken, or... Oh, God, let the scale be broken!
With a fair bit of difficulty, you drop to your knees and pick up the scale. The whole process is an embarrassing, jiggly mess. Your thighs, hips, and belly constantly wobble with only the slightest movement. Sudden moves are accompanied with a loud slapping sound as your new apron belly smacks into your thighs, and the sheer scale of your frame makes bending in any direction more difficult then you would have imagined.
With the scale in hand, you flip it over, and feel a chill go down your spine as you read these words: "Max Weight: 325 Pounds."
Oh. No.
You can scarcely believe it. No way, absolutely no way, are you suddenly over 325 pounds. It's impossible, right? But as you look over your massively expanded features, you know that it is more then possible.
Leaving the scale on the floor, you slowly rise back to your feet. If you'd thought getting down here was painful enough, going back up again was even worse. After some effort, you managed to get your right foot sitting comfortably on the floor. Grabbing hold of your desk, you gave a quick count of three, then pushed up. It was such a disconcerting feeling, having your rolls of fat pressing against each other and your joints, trying their level best to push your body in ways you didn't want to go. It was officially the hardest time you'd ever had standing up, bar none.
You're panting quite hard by this point, and the soreness in your limbs is shocking, to say the least. Your muscles definitely aren't made for moving this sort of load, and you decide to rest on your bed. A few shaky strides bring you to the edge, and you carefully turn, fearful of your terrible lack of balance. Once positioned correctly, you lower yourself as slowly as you can manage. You can feel your belly spreading across your newly enlarged lap as you bend forward, and your thighs touch the mattress far ahead of the rest of you. The final few inches go a fair bit faster then the first; a combination of gravity and inadequate musculature see to that, and your tush flops on the bed with a loud creak from the springs.
You can feel from the bed just how big you are. Your booty forms a full-on shelf behind you, and seems to have taken on a decidedly rectangular shape. Your thighs are large enough that, despite your belly being big enough to reach your knees, they protrude flabbily beyond for several inches, at least. Your love handles are, from what you can tell, the size of footballs if not larger, and your back is divided into several large rolls. Your apron belly is divided into two large rolls along your belly button line, with a smaller third roll just underneath your breasts. Speaking of your breasts, they've also grown to a respectable size; or, rather, they would be respectable if they weren't being completely overshadowed by the rest of your gargantuan measurements.
Finishing off the parade of lard were your arms and face. Everything about your arms, from shoulder to wrist, was heavy with fat, and was rather tiring to move. And your face now sported a firm double chin and chipmunk cheeks.
You were now, simply put, enormous.
"How? How did I get so fat? How fat am I?" You honestly weren't expecting an answer, and you jumped quite a bit when you heard a voice from the door. Much to your annoyance, the jiggling of your fat was quite noticeable.
"For the first question, the answer is Me. And the second, my guess is 361 pounds, give or take a few. I was aiming for 271, literally a pound over Jenna's weight, but it seems it was misinterpreted as an additional 271 pounds of pure fat on top of your current weight. That's quite the load to carry at your height. I'm honestly impressed you can move unaided right now." Chris stood in the door, looking at your naked, corpulent frame in all its glory.
"Chris? What? What are you talking about? What did you do!?" You started to get angry, but promptly quieted down when you saw the look in his eyes. It was frightening.
"I used magic to make you fat. Really fat, as it turned out." Your boyfriend walked in the room, and proceeded to walk around you. You felt like a side of beef in a supermarket, being judged by a customer. "You carry it well, if that's any consolation."
"But... but why!?"
"Because you have serious problems. Amy, I love you to death, but you're a judgemental control freak. If people don't agree with you, they're ignorant. If they don't do what you want them to, they're attacking you. And God forbid if they have an ounce of extraneous fat on their body, or actually want you to eat something other then celery." Chris stopped in his circle around you, and you could feel his eyes on your gigantic ass. "Seriously, though, how big do you think your ass is? This shelf has to be two feet deep, at least."
You tried to turn around to look at him, but your oversized dimensions made that an exercise in futility. "Please, Chris, please turn me back!"
"I can't do that, honey."
"Please! I'm sorry! I'll be better, I swear, just turn me back! Please! Eek!"
You let out a small shriek as you felt Chris' firm hand strike your bottom with a loud smack. Given how far behind you that felt, you suspect a two foot ass might be an understatement.
"Now that is a ripple effect," Chris said, clearly watching the reaction of your fat rolls. You feel his hand on your lardy body move as he walks around to face you. "Anyway, you don't need to fret. I don't intend for this to be permanent."
You start to smile with a small surge of hope, but that promptly dies when he holds up a finger. "But you're going to need to do something first."
You don't your voice has ever sounded so small as you asked, "What?"
"I'm going to need you to live like this for awhile."
"Chris, I can't!"
"You can, and you will. At least until such time as I feel you've learned your lesson. Live the life of the fat girls you deride and mock. The timing couldn't be better; with you needing to get a new student card, your photo will be updated to the new you. That should help you avoid any serious trouble."
"But what about the people I know!?"
"What about them? I can alter the memories of those closest to you just enough so that you were fatter from the word go, and you know almost no one on campus. You were so convinced of your own superiority that you wouldn't deign to talk to anyone unless you needed to."
You felt like crying again, because you knew Chris was right about that. You probably would have bawled right then and there if you could have heard his thoughts: I can alter their memories to a point, at least. There is a limit on how much one can adjust, and she's so damn FAT right now...
You hung your head in defeat. There was nothing else you could do at this point, and you knew Chris knew it. "...just for now, right?"
He put both his hands on your fat-stuffed shoulders, though you didn't raise your head. "That's right. Go to class, come home, repeat. Hang out with friends, actually try to meet people, enjoy the little things in life for once. Don't plan everything down to the T. Don't be so judgemental about others, especially their weight. It'd certainly come off as hypocritical if you were at this point; honestly, you're the fattest woman I've ever seen."
Your old temper certainly came to the fore at that remark. "Well, whose fault is that!?"
Chris didn't even hesitate in his answer. "Yours. You have a poisonous element to your personality, and while I'm not so naive as to think there'll be an US after this, I know for a fact that, if you don't change, you're just going to drive away everyone you ever meet. The thought of you spending your life that way kills me."
Chris stepped back and looked at you in your entirety. "I figure we'll move you down to the spare bedroom on the main floor. The stairs are fairly narrow and steep, and that seems like it's just asking for trouble. I'll swing out and get you some temp clothes so that you can grab a proper wardrobe on the weekend. Also, I should warn you: the spell is also designed to make you maintain your current weight. You'll suffer some rather severe hunger pains everyday until you hit a certain calorie threshold. You can theoretically lose the weight, but it would be nearly impossible. Even if you did, the spell would push you to gain right back to that level again."
Chris stepped forward a step, and reached out his hands. "Now come on. Let's get you downstairs. You can start on the ravioli while I run to the store."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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