You sigh and leave the room for now, not wanting to risk using the machine. Who knows, you might try to enlarge your dick, but end up with a butt that's 10 times bigger instead!
You walk around the halls, peering in different rooms. Some have closets full of clothes, others have walls of potions, others have complex machinery, somewhat like the shrink machine. You check those rooms out, but none of them seemed to control size the way the first did.
You wander into another room with a sofa and lay down, trying to figure out the situation. You couldn't leave the mansion hung like an elf... could you? You sit back up and look around the room, it's sparse, but on the other side of the room, you see a small bottle. You get up and walk over to it. It's a fairly plain bottle, but it has a fancy tag attatched You read it over.
"Not feeling "big? Maybe feeling a little inadequate? Not the whole man you should be? Try "bulge"! It'll make you bigger than you could ever hope!" You laugh to yourself, this was perfect! You read the instructions, they're simple enough, just chug the bottle. This should turn you back to normal, if not give you a bit more to brag about. Without a second thought, you chug the bottle down. With a contented huff, you place the bottle down on the pedestal and wait. You feel a warmth grow in your stomach. The warmth starts to spread though... first to your chest, then to your butt, then down your arms and legs, even to your face. You start to feel a bit concerned, but then the warmth fades... now it starts...
You look down, expecting your jeans to tighten in the crotch, but they don't. Suddenly, you begin to feel your briefs become snug again. "Yes!" you shout, thinking it worked, but then, your shirt tightens, and the waist of your jeans. You look down again, and instead of your flat belly, a small arch is forming under your shirt. You're getting fat! You grab the bottle and read a small block of print on the bottom right: Turning real men into real fat men, since 1806!
You groan... at least, you thought it was you groaning. It was your belt. You look down, and see a large fleshy ball sticking out from under your shirt, but you can't see your belt. You reach under the inflating gut to find it, as you waddle to a mirror. You keep fumbling as your figure comes into view.
A big round belly sits, drooping slightly over the belt, love handles plump on the sides, your thighs are like sausages in your jeans, small man-boobs sit on top your belly as plush arms shake, pulling at your belt. Your clothes begin to rip as you struggle with the belt, but you no longer need to worry, as it bursts before you can get it open. Your clothes shred and fall to the floor, and you stop growing, left in a pair of too tight briefs. A little curious, you pull them down in the front, hoping the bulge drink actually did SOMETHING, but no luck. You can't even see your dick now, the fat on your groin has swallowed it. You pull the briefs back on and waddle around a bit. You spy a scale across the room and climb on. 390 pounds! You're a fatass!
You waddle off the scale in your super-tight undies and waddle around. You've screwed yourself over twice at this place! You came in lean and hung, but now you're obese and underendowed. You sigh, then look at the bottle across the room... it's full again. You think to yourself, you're already fat. Why not go a bit further? It's not, unpleasant or anything, in fact, the warm, soft feeling is kinda nice.
Should you?
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