As he looked around, John's stomach gurgled again. John tried to ignore it, he couldn't afford to let his guard down. Something just felt off about this, it was too quiet and empty. At the same time he was beginning to feel hot and stuffy. The smell in the house was so pungent and sweet, and felt as if it was baking, despite there having been no fire in the oven. John felt hot, running around the house in full armor wasn't helping. In fact his armor felt heavier then usual. He was sweating as he moved about. He really wanted to take it off. It was late at night and he was getting tired, but his common sense said it was not the time to relax.
However, he was getting winded, holding his sword out everywhere was making his arms tired, and so far he had seen nothing dangerous anywhere. Cautiously he put it back in it's sheathe, almost expecting something to come alive as soon as he did, but nothing happened. He eyed the couch, wondering if it was safe to sit, just to rest a little. Just to be safe, he poked the marshmallow cushion with his scabbard a few times, just to be sure it wasn't some sort of sticky trap. When nothing happened again, he carefully sat down. Naturally it was soft, and he unwillingly let out a sigh of relief as he took the weight off his feet, which were starting to hurt after running around for so long. In fact his armor in generally was feeling uncomfortable. He felt hot in it, it felt heavy, and it felt like it was chaffing. It almost felt constricting, as if it had shrunk, but of course that was nonsense. Even so, he found himself wanting to loosen the straps a little, but resisted the urge. He breathed in, thinking about what to investigate next. He was sure this had to be the right place, an obviously magical house made of sweets, which obviously must have a witch behind it, keeping kidnapped children... where? He had seen a child, so they must be somewhere around here, but he had heard nothing.
He found himself panting, short of breath. Why was it getting so hard to breath all of a sudden? Geez, it felt like he was being squeezed by something. He was being squeezed all over, like there were snakes wrapped all around him, constricting him tighter with each moment. He suddenly realized that it was getting too hard to breath, and it felt like his armor was suffocating him, and he began desperately reaching for the straps. As he did, he felt the resistance as his arms and legs refused to bend as they should, his joints felt tight, pinching at him as he began unbuckling the straps, feeling them cutting into his flesh as he did. As soon as he unbuckled one, it all but shot open, and he felt the pressure release, and quickly moved to the next, starting with his arms and legs, which felt as if the circulation was being cut off, feeling a euphoric release with each strap undone, before moving on to tis breast plate.
As he undid the last strap, the pressure on his body released, his chest plate pushed outward as something in it expanded out underneath it. John felt a glorious breath of air enter his lungs. It felt so good that he almost missed the sensation of... largeness. When it hit him, he felt under the plate. His hand met a mass beneath it. A large, rounded, soft mass. Quickly he pulled the plate away, gasping as he saw his stomach sitting in his lap, his tunic riding up it. "What?" he said aloud, as he felt at his chest, where two large mounds sat. he felt his face, and was met with a wobble of his cheeks. John hadn't been in the best of shape, but he had definitely not been this big. Quickly he began stripping the armor off, each time finding his limbs larger and more bloated then he had remembered them, looking swollen as if he had some sort of allergic reaction, however feeling them, they had become soft, wobbling under his grip.
How had this happened? He hadn't eaten anything, so he couldn't have fallen into a trap. Unless the trap wasn't the food, but just the location? Maybe it was in the sweet smelling air? Or just being inside the house? As he felt around the roll of chest flab starting to roll under his arms, he could swear he felt it get softer. his belt creaking slightly, his shirt sifting a little higher. Whatever this was, it wasn't stopping now that he had realized it. He had to get out of here, sure that whatever was happening here was to do with the house.
John struggled to get to his feel, his center of gravity feeling off as the pounds now piled up in front of him. He pushed hard against the couch trying to get to his feet, feeling his body wobbling as he did. He started collecting his armor off the floor, not wanting to loose it, his stomach pushing into his legs, forcing him to hold his breath as he reached for the floor. It was like trying to bend over with a medicine ball lodged in his abdomen. He gathered the platemail into his arms, his belly acting somewhat like a shelf as he wrapped his arms around them and began waddling for the door, panting under all the weight he was carrying...
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