Vignette: A Witch's Drew

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A Witch's Drew

"Come on, honey, here's another bite!"

Drew opened his mouth with a dopey grin as his girlfriend Darla Fischer spoon fed him another piece of soft cake. Speaking of softness, Drew's pudgy middle of late had turned into a bona-fide button popper, seemingly having doubled in size over the past few weeks.

Coincidentally, that was when he and Darla first began to date.

Marcus narrowed his eyes at the two of them from across the table, face partially cringing from the two of them being so cutesy in front of him.

Get a room. But also, maybe don't. Marcus knew the moment he took his eyes off them, something strange would happen. It always did.

It had been a few years since high school, but his best friend used to be as thin as a railboard, similar to Marcus. However, over several weeks, he seemed to have filled out in a big way. And unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, his friend seemed to even be a few inches taller. I mean, he had heard of late bloomers, but this one took the cake. Literally. He watched Drew systematically destroy over half a large sheet cake that Darla Fischer just "happened" to have around, saying that someone was going to throw it away at work, yadda yadda, and she brought it home for her family. Looks like there would hardly be anything left for them.

Darla. Marcus looked at her, giving Drew lovey-dovey eyes, snatching glances at Drew's exposed midriff when he yawned and stretched, not even being considerate of Marcus' judgmental stares.

In their city within Washington state, there was still a part of its small town origins located in one of its older neighborhoods. The Fischers were one of the original founding families, still living in a large old house, akin to a mansion that was surrounded by tall evergreens.

One of the more "fun" tales they were told in history classes and old town tours growing up was that many of the founders practiced certain spiritual and heretical beliefs. High society members would meet in the dead of night to repeat incantations, perform rituals, etcetera, etcetera. Witchcraft, in other words.

Marcus would have scoffed at the idea of such a thing a few months ago, but now?

He snapped out of his reverie just in time to see Drew finish the rest of the sheet cake. Both Marcus and Darla had one piece, while Drew pigged out on the rest. Drew let out a small moan and stifled a burp. Marcus stared at the now-bloated midsection, heaving outward in rhythm to the big boy's breaths. Where the hell did he find the room?

"Thanks babe," he said. "That really hit the spot. I was so hungry after football practice today, all I could think about was having a taste of your cooking."

"This wasn't my cooking, silly," Darla replied. "This was leftover from work, remember? But I can whip up some muffins later back at my house when you drop by."

His mouth pouted a little bit in a joking way. "But your big man wants it now…"

She met his pout with a kiss, having to lean over his bulk and stand to reach him, his upper body being too high, even in a sitting position.

"How about this treat right now," she answered between lip-locking kisses.

That was enough for Marcus. He mumbled something about the restroom and extricated himself from the table. He didn't have to go, but it gave him an excuse to be alone for a while. Once inside, he played on his phone, making sure he didn't stay longer than 10 minutes.

He was about to open the door when he heard something odd. He could hear Darla speaking, murmuring in a soft sing-songy voice.

He cracked the bathroom door open slowly, making sure not to let them know that he was eavesdropping, and looked toward the dining table.

Drew was moaning, glassy-eyed and staring at the ceiling, lifting his shirt up and exposing his prodigious stomach and fattened pecs. Darla had leaned down toward his stomach, cooing a musical lilt that Marcus did not understand. Perhaps it was a different language? But that was irrelevant, as the real issue was what she was doing.

She traced a manicured finger around Drew's belly button, as a circular rune pattern began to glow on his skin. Marcus' eyes widened as he noticed similar markings surrounding Drew's soft pink nipples. As the finger lazily traced the glowing skin, Drew let out a sudden burp, as his belly seemed to lurch forward a little bit. He placed his hands on his stomach, letting out a small "oof," rubbing it and beaming down at Darla.

She kissed his slightly bulkier table muscle and pulled his shirt down and patted it.

"There! That should hold you over until later tonight. Now, you stay here nice and full while Darla goes to the powder room."

She left the table, heading upstairs to the second bathroom in Drew's house. Once the stair creaks faded and Marcus could hear the distinct sound of a door closing, he pushed his door open all the way and hurried to the dining table.

Drew still had a dreamy look on his face, possibly a side effect of whatever she was doing to him.

"She's great, isn't she?" he said to Marcus with that same dopey smile. "I'm so lucky to have her."

"We need to go" Marcus hissed. He grabbed the chunky forearm of his friend and pulled.

Drew frowned, slowly leaning forward and standing up, towering over Marcus, belly bumping slightly into him. It definitely looked bigger than it was five minutes ago.

"Wha– what's going on?" Drew said uncertainly.

Marcus opened the front door and led him out to his car. Maybe Drew would be safer at his place? He wasn't sure what to do. It was better than nothing.

Drew got into the four-door Camry, huffing as he fit his bulk in the passenger seat, making sure to pull the seat lever to push it back, to give his legs breathing room.

Marcus pulled away from the curb, but not before he snuck a glance back at Drew's house. In the second-story window, he could see the unmistakable outline of Darla standing there. Her face was dark, eyes seeming to glow as she stared after them.

Drew's stomach suddenly gurgled.

"Damn, man," he complained groggily. "Mind if we stop somewhere for takeout? Feeling pretty starved."

Marcus' eyes darted toward his friend before concentrating on the road again. "You're kidding right? You just had a whole damn sheet cake to yourself. And I'm pretty sure you told me you two just had lunch before inviting me over."

"Man, that cake was good," Drew murmured, more to himself than to Marcus. He lifted his shirt up again, past his nipple line and patted his substantially bloated gut. "Darla sure keeps me well fed. I'm so lucky to have her…"

"Don't you see what she's doing?" Marcus interrupted. "She's fucking brainwashing you man! The old Drew couldn't even finish a damn hamburger, fries and shake from Five Guys! And now you're completely unrecognizable! After a few weeks you've turned into a fucking ballooned hog!"

Drew suddenly grunted upon hearing those last words. He began rubbing his belly, tracing his finger around his belly button as Darla had done before.

"Don't know what you've got against her, man," he slurred, eyelids half-closed. "She's so good to me…and she makes me feel so good too. Aren't you happy for me?"

"It's not even about that," Marcus snapped angrily. "You aren't even in your right mind. And now she's tricked you into gaining all this weight."

"Of course I'm in my right mind," Drew retorted, more alert and with a slight edge to his voice. "You haven't even asked how we met. She and I have similar interests and…hobbies. She hasn't tricked me. She likes feeding and I like eating, simple as that. Sure I've put on weight, but you know what? I kind of like it, and I like how it makes me feel," he ended, stubbornly.

Marcus continued to focus on the road while his jaw dropped open. Drew sounded coherent and didn't seem to be under any spell anymore.

He pulled into the driveway of his small apartment and turned to face him.

"I…I didn't know that," Marcus said, hesitantly. "You were undergoing so many changes in a short amount of time that I thought she was using you for her sick pleasure or something. But I don't mean it like that! If that's what you're into, then I fully support…"

Marcus trailed off. Drew was still looking down at his belly, idly tracing his finger around his navel, muttering something.

"So…urp…good…feels so good," he panted, eliciting a small belch that smelled like the cake he had earlier.

The runes around his navel began to glow again, as a subtle gurgling could be heard throughout the car.

Marcus' eyes widened as he watched the already large belly suddenly roll forward an inch, then a few inches. The paunch began to gurgle up a storm as it lazily swelled forward, burying Drew's groin with steadily burgeoning fat.

Drew belched again, even louder this time, his breath smelling like brownies, or some similar treat. He moaned, his stomach pushing against his hand as his other one attempted to cradle the massive mound getting closer to the dashboard.

The belly was beginning to look full, real full. Marcus could see the faint traces of stretchmarks begin to form, brimming with the same glowing power as the runes surrounding Drew's navel. His face seemed to be in a trance, consumed with stuffing his stomach with no regards to slowing down.

Marcus threw open the driver's side door and ran to the passenger's side.

"Drew, get out!" Marcus yelled, pulling open the door and yanking his hand away from his navel. He pulled with all his might, trying to move the behemoth to no avail.

Slowly, ponderously, Drew turned his bulk toward Marcus and began to step out. His knees collided with the mass of jiggly lard that was attached to him. It scraped against the edges of the door frame as he huffed, doing a final push to roll out of the vehicle. The suspension of the car bounced back upward noticeably, having gone from carrying an overweight young man to a lardass solidly in obese territory. Even worse, Drew looked to have grown in height as well. He was tall before, but now he was a full head above Marcus, looking down on him with a dopey, dreamy smile.

Marcus quickly pulled him toward the front door of his first floor apartment. He couldn't even imagine the difficulty of getting the monster-sized Drew up the stairs to a second story apartment, so he counted himself lucky.

With both hands, he pressed against the substantial backside of Drew, the top halves of two bulbous asscheeks pouring over the top of his painted-on sweatpants. His shirt was not faring any better; his dimpled lower fat back was exposed, more than hinting at a whopper of a gut anchoring the massive man down in front, love handles ballooned over the sides like separate bellies.

Drew finally stomped past the threshold of the apartment, baseball cap brushing across the top and catching the edge, tumbling off. Marcus snatched it up, entered the apartment and closed the door.

"Ooof!" Drew leaned forward in a squat, belly pushing forward monstrously and popping several stitches of his tortured shirt in the process, before falling back onto a couch, a loud thud reverberating throughout the apartment as the couch creaked dangerously. With his current height and proportions, he had to be somewhere north of several hundred pounds. 450? 550? Or more? Marcus gulped.

"Hey bro…" Drew wheezed, sounded exhausted. "Got a beer? That walk took a lot out of me, and a cold beer would hit the spot right now," he finished, licking his lips. He rubbed his mammoth belly, fingers suspiciously trailing toward his navel again.

"I'll get you your beer," Marcus said quickly. "Just keep your hands to yourself…or off yourself. You know what I mean."

He rushed to his small kitchen around the corner from the small living room. He scoured his fridge for a beer, or at least something similar. After a minute, he found a hard seltzer, snatched it and closed the fridge.

"Hey man, all I have is a seltzer, hope you don't mind" Marcus said, whipping around the corner before stopping dead in his tracks.

Drew, red-faced and panting, struggled to finger his navel, which was now well out of his reach, no matter how he tried to readjust.

Attached to him was a grotesquely swollen flesh blimp, the size of a small weather balloon, covered in glowing stretchmarks. The runes around his navel were fading, as Drew was unable to stimulate them further.

"No…no problem, man," Drew panted. "I feel like I just drank a keg…still room for more though." As if to prove his point, Drew suddenly belched, a long, sonorous one, filling the apartment with the distinct stink of Coors.

Marcus looked incredulously at the creature that nearly took up his entire couch, his bobbing belly appendage resting on the coffee table, bouncing heavily upon it with every belch.

"Hey man…I've got a favor to ask. I need you…to make me BIGGER," he said the last word with a groan.

"W…what?" Marcus said, not believing his ears.

Drew eyed him, all dreamy tone and dopey composure gone from him for now. He was serious.

"Consider it…an apology. For judging our relationship. I know what Darla is capable of, we bonded over that fact after meeting on certain online communities. She wants to grow someone, and well, I want to grow."

He heaved his globe of a gut for emphasis. It barely lifted a centimeter before thumping down on the coffee table with a meaty crash.

Marcus gulped. "A-are you sure? You're already so huge…"

Drew chuckled. "Darla will take care of it, trust me. Everything will be okay. Now, no homo, but Marcus, I need you to blow me the fuck up. Pronto."

A sharp crack reverberated as he slapped his own belly. The blimped up hog actually bit his lip and closed his eyes.

Well I'll be damned, thought Marcus. He stepped toward the quivering dirigible. His hand hesitated for a second before touching two fingers to the outer rim of Drew's navel. The runes suddenly lit up brightly with renewed vigor.

Drew began to moan immediately as his blimp belly began to creak outward once again. He bounced on the couch excitedly, smacking the side of his gut, no doubt mashing his groin against the alien sphere attached to his body, trapped by it, even. And that TURNED HIM ON.

His hands shot up to the nipples of his newly grown moobs, which had gained steadily since the growth started, but could definitely use a boost. His fingers traced around the runes that Darla had placed on them earlier. Almost immediately, his nipples grew warm and moist, as if they were being suckled and gently tugged by phantom hands. He whimpered as they surged fuller, pushing up into his chin and flopping outward and lower, like two jumbo water balloons attached to a water hose. Meanwhile, Marcus' ministrations had caused his gravitational gut to overlap the diminutive coffee table, the tightly packed lard balloon filling with millions of untold calories with every delicious finger stroke. His stretchmarks multiplied as his clothes shredded and tore all around him. He was a prize winning hog. He was his Darla's hog.

On the other side of the room-filling belly planet, Marcus heard the gurgling reach a fever pitch. He suspected he heard a creaking noise that wasn't quite fabric, as Drew's body had already blown through all his clothes. His sweats lay under hundreds of pounds of fat, burst open like sausage casings, shirt pulled high above his pillowed moobs, sleeves blown open against billowing upper arms.

The porked out, widening belly button became shallower and shallower, the soft fat around it hardening and becoming more solid as fat cells grew and multiplied. Drew's belly and the rest of his body took on a flushed appearance, as if it couldn't take much more.

When the creaking began to crescendo, Drew's belly button began to push outward, quivering as it began to swell and redden.

Marcus stopped tracing his finger around it.

"Y…your belly button popped out," Marcus said to the giant sphere that had backed him up into the opposite wall and stretched toward the ceiling. It continued to shake ominously, feeling like there were thousands of pounds aching to push outward against the equilibrium straining to keep it all contained.

Upon hearing Marcus' words, Drew yelled, bouncing against the Being that was his Belly. It drove him crazy to think he was more belly than man, just a tiny insignificant creature that was just along for the ride, as his stomach grew bigger, and bigger, and…

He shot multiple times somewhere under all that mass, his dick softening before retreating back into the safehaven of its fatpad.

A sharp knocking on the door made Marcus jump, snapping his head away from the spectacle. He took a deep breath, already suspecting who it was.

He had barely opened the door all the way before Darla strode past him into the room. She only took two steps before her nose came into contact with a wall of belly. She stared at it for several seconds without saying anything. Slowly, she turned toward Marcus, one eyebrow sharply raised.

Marcus shrugged. "He said I owed him a favor for doubting your…special relationship. He was right of course…I-I'm sorry." His cheeks burned.

"I didn't know you two were so...close," she answered, more amused than angry.

"He just asked me to rub his belly," Marcus snapped. "Nothing sexual or anything."

"Oh honey," she said pityingly. "How little you know of the world. Haven't you ever heard of Rule 34?"

"Is that Darla?" a breathless voice said from behind the mass of flesh.

Darla hurried around the massive swell toward Drew's voice. "Yes dear, I'm here," she said, sounding a bit exasperated. "You should know better to run off while that spell is active. Remember the buffet? I had to ask my family to get involved to make everyone forget, remember?"

"Yeah, I know," Drew answered sheepishly. "But Marcus was taking care of me."

"And how!" she replied sarcastically, patting one of his overstuffed moobs. "That feeding spell appeals to your inner desires, honey, you know that. We do it because it's fun and I can control it, but you would have tricked poor Marcus into feeding you until you popped."

Marcus' blood ran cold. She was joking, of course, right?

"Anyway, let's get you back to the mansion, sweetie. We'll have to siphon those calories out of you slowly."

"You can…return him to normal, right?" Marcus asked. "His new normal that is."

"He's already shrinking down" she said dismissively.

Marcus looked back to the belly and blinked. It was roughly a third of its size smaller, slowly rolling backward over the coffee table and shrinking toward Drew.

"It's a stopgap solution," she continued. "I can shrink him for a time, but he'll grow back in short order. Also, I might as well enjoy it while he is that size, the mansion has plenty of room…" she trailed off, obvious hunger in her eyes.

****************************

The Fischer family's personal driver was parked in front of Marcus' apartment, in a large, black, Mercedes-class van. He had a bored look on his face and didn't even blink when he saw a 6"6 Drew who was roughly north of 600lbs. It was tough getting him past the doorframe and the change of clothes Darla brought was not nearly large enough to cover his soft belly apron hanging way below his waistband, not that she minded. Marcus shook his head at what Darla defined as "shrunk" but he supposed they only needed to be able to get him into the van.

The driver deftly opened the back doors of the van, allowing Drew to turn around and do his signature sumo squat, allowing his head to clear the top before sitting down. The van for all its size, still groaned and sank a foot from supporting such a hefty boy.

Marcus pulled Drew's hat from his back pocket and placed it atop Drew's thicker noggin. Drew beamed dumbly down at him, already becoming dopey from Darla's magic.

"See you later, big guy," Marcus said, slapping Drew's prodigious gut.

Drew grunted happily in response before shifting his bulk back further into the van, rocking it wildly in the process. The chauffeur closed the doors as soon as his feet cleared the edges and went to the passenger side to open the door.

Darla turned to go. Marcus coughed, then decided on something.

"Hey, Darla."

She was about to step up into the van when she turned toward him.

"Drew and I have been friends for a long time, and I can tell you two make each other happy. I think…I was a bit jealous as well. He started getting taller and picking up all these sports hobbies and new friends…I just feel like I was being left behind. Wherever he's going in the future, I want to go too."

He took a deep breath.

"Whatever you did to him…to make that happen…is there anyway you could, you know…do it to me, too?"

Darla's eyes widened, comprehension dawning on her. Her lips spread into a wicked grin, though Marcus supposed it was a little prejudiced to call a smile wicked, considering who she was and her background.

She looked toward his midriff. "You are going to have to kiss those abs goodbye. My magic is irreversible. It fundamentally changes your genetic makeup, almost like a re-roll of your family heritage. You are going to be able to put on weight so easily, that you'll have to watch your diet for the rest of your life. Your clothes will start  becoming obsolete in the first few days, so I'd start shopping now."

She paused. "Are you sure this is what you want? I'm not even sure I should go through with it, not like I owe you or anything after today's stunt."

Marcus smiled weakly. "Drew and I will just be a couple of frat boy buds, drinking and poking fun at each others' guts as they get fatter, as ex-jock buds do, I assume. Might even compete in an eating competition or two, unable to control our appetites…"

He could already see the gears working in Darla's head as she imagined all the possibilities and fantasies associated with those scenarios.

"My family will be in touch," she said with a mischievous tone, before climbing into the vehicle, the chauffeur closing the door behind her.

Marcus watched the vehicle drive away slowly, sagging slightly with the massive cargo that was, and would still remain, his best friend Drew.