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About Literature / Hobbyist Malleable human formsMale/United States Group :iconmorasiaacademy: MorasiaAcademy
 
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A Fat Girl For the Mansion (TG WG AR) :iconpraedatorius:praedatorius 17 6
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Help Me, SenPai! Chapter 2 (BE) :iconpraedatorius:praedatorius 18 0
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The Underground Inflationist Society (Inflation) :iconpraedatorius:praedatorius 21 3
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Revenge of the Boob Girl (BE) :iconpraedatorius:praedatorius 37 20
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Help Me, SenPai! (BE) :iconpraedatorius:praedatorius 28 5
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Kala's Last Sleepover (Inflation) :iconpraedatorius:praedatorius 32 3
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Fetish Confession (BE) :iconpraedatorius:praedatorius 38 7
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502 deviations
Happy Pi Day! I plan to use this day as an opportunity to appreciate all round foods. Burgers, pizzas, muffins: I'm going to measure the circumference of all of them.

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      “Of course, my father named me Vienna. It was where he met his fifth wife.”
      “You mean your mother?” I asked. I was looking for some whiskey for my tea.
      “No, that was the wife before my mother, idiot! She was the one he liked.” She pulled out a flask and offered me none of it. “You fat yet?”
      “I feel a little bit bloated.”
      “I’m not paying you to feel a little bloated. Get that doctor up here,” she told Roger, the butler.
      “Don’t you feel any different?” I asked.
      “What do you mean?”
      “You got a treatment. Is yours working?”
      “Of course it is.”
      “So maybe mine is working too.”
      “Of course, mine is working,” said Vienna. “I paid good money for it. There’s no way they would give me anything crappy. I don’t know about you, though.”
      ‘Jeez,’ thought Jim. ‘Does this old lady even know how treatments work?’ I snuck some whiskey from my own flask before Vienna could see it. I was feeling weird, but it might have been my head pounding. Vienna was very loud.
      “So, lady-boy,” Vienna scoffed. “Feel any different yet?”
      “Yeah, actually. My belly seems like it’s getting softer. I feel like my muscles are softening. My breasts are—“
      “What about the pussy?”
      I jumped. “Y-yes! It does feel a little weird.”
      “Good…heh heh.” Her face was bright red. “Let me see it.”
      ‘How much of that whiskey did she drink already?’
      “Come on, bastard! Pull down yer pants. I want to see a show.”
      “Okay, I suppose that’s fair right now.”
      “That’s it,” she hiccuped. I took down my pants and slid my underwear down. Not the first time I had done it for a woman. It was the first time I had been paid, however.
      “You know, you’re smaller than I thought.”
      A cheap shot, but I knew I wouldn’t need my penis for a long time, so I let it slide.
      “You college kids think you’re so smart. I remember when I was in college. None of those teachers knew nothin’! They kicked me out and daddy had to send me to a new school. I didn’t want a new school anyway.”
      “I’m sorry.”
      “For what?” Suddenly her eyes widened. “It’s starting!”
      I felt like I was being wrapped up in a wool blanket. A thick layer of fat accumulated all over my body. Vienna was lying on the floor, taking the last hit from her flask.
      “You look like shit,” she laughed. Still, she was mesmerized. She watched as I got thicker and heavier. My body began to sag under all the weight. Little rolls of fat piled up on my torso, like little innertubes filling with air, growing round and thick with every moment. My chest was getting a lot heavier too. Before it just felt tender, but now it was bulging forward.
       “Show me your tits,” she squawked. My shirt was getting too tight anyway.
      “Leave it on, bastard!”
      ‘Jeez, won’t she make up her mind?’
      “I wanna to see you grow out of it like a big girl.”
      I knew I was supposed to get fatter, but nothing in medical school had prepared me for this. My chest was soft with fat. It was piling under my nipples and pushing them out like traffic cones sticking out of the road. I wasn’t very feminine yet, but my man boobs were bigger than the tits of any girls I knew. Soon they would be even bigger. A surge of estrogen was coming. I could feel the stuff flooding through my veins. The longer I waited the stranger I felt. I was used to feeling weak since I got kicked out of medical school, but I hadn’t expected my body to get even weaker. Testosterone gives men extra strength, like a steroid, and soon most of that would be gone. I would get softer and softer as the days wore on. My shoulders were drooping and my arms getting heavier. The extra fat certainly didn’t help.
      Vienna crawled across the floor to me. Her face was stretched tight from plastic surgery. She’d cut off her hair to wear ridiculous blonde wigs of smooth, polished hair. Even though she was half-knocked out from alcohol, her eyes were sharp and hard like slate. She licked her over-plumped lips and beckoned me closer. She was drunk, but I recognized that the look on her face was something more than intoxication. Her mind had hardened to a sharp point. “We’re going to have a lot of fun,” she said.
      “You want to have sex?” I asked.
      She nodded. This part of the deal, and I was prepared to follow it through, but the trouble was figuring out how to stay aroused with all this nonsense going on. I was sure that with all the fat and estrogen flowing through my body, I wouldn’t be able to keep an erection. In fact, my penis felt pretty small. Was it really getting smaller, or was the rest of me that much bigger?
      Vienna crawled on top of me like a lizard. “You’re so soft. I like soft girls...”
      “Really?”
      “…a lot…” she moaned. One thing she couldn’t get surgery for was her voice. It was like rusty gears clogged up with gravel. She didn’t smell like an ashtray; more like an ash-heap. “Hold me,” she croaked.
      My arms felt like sand bags, but I wrapped them around her like I was holding a starving bird. I ignored the cigarette smell seeping out of her flesh and cradled her, hoping that my arms, as they were getting thicker and thicker every moment, wouldn’t crush her. I wouldn’t get to stay if she was dead.
      It was when she grabbed my crotch that things started getting uncomfortable.
      “Mmm, so thick…”
      My penis was limp like a shoelace, but it wouldn’t be around much longer. She fiddled with it as it retracted into my crotch. It burrowed inward until it turned inside out, forming my new vagina. My man-boobs were getting softer and rounder, just like my belly, but sexier. My nipples were round and swollen. They were sticking against the inside of my shirt, which was so tight that I could see every detail and dimple on my growing mammaries. The hair on my chest had all fallen out. My skin rubbed against itself, legs on legs, arms on belly, and fat roll on fat roll: all as smooth as silk.
      “You’re…you’re happy with me this way?” I asked. I said it so that I could test out my voice. It was small and high like a teenager’s voice.
      Instead of answering, she sunk her face between my tits and bit me.
      “What’s wrong with you!” I was bleeding. She tried to lick the blood off but I pushed her away. It was a pretty weak push. My arms were so weighed down with fat that I moved like a cow. I was no weakling, but the more weight I put on, the harder it was to move. My joints felt swollen and whenever I bent my arms I felt like I was wearing a suit made of foam. I tried to push her away. The only thing that saved me was the fact that she was drunk.
      “Come on, honey. This is what it’s all about.” She sunk her bony fingers into my flesh, and even when I wriggled out, she grabbed me somewhere else, either the thighs, or my rolls of fat, or on the pussy. My body was working hard to keep mobile. I was pretty winded. Soon I couldn’t fight very much. She crawled on top of my swelling stomach. She looked like she was only held together by band-aids and nicotine.
      She sank into my flesh. She kissed and licked my breasts, searching for some kind of rest atop the great big pillow of fat that my body was became. She kept one hand sunk under my fat boob, and another one wedged in my pussy. I was losing my virginity for a second time, and this time was much rougher.
      “I like big girls,” she grunted. “I like big girls. I like ‘em, I like ‘em…” She pulled her hand out of my pussy and stuck it on her own. She was rubbing against my thigh. Even though she was drunk, she was sweating from her cunt so much that my entire thigh was slick with juice. I grabbed her with my arms so that she couldn’t move anymore. Eventually I felt her stiffen and gasp. It was a shallow gasp and a sudden stillness, so sudden that I thought she might have died. I wondered if I could still feel pulses with my sausage-sized fingers, but fortunately Vienna’s wrists were so thin that it was like feeling whether or not a balloon had air in it.
      She was alive, so my meal ticket was still good. I rolled her gently onto the ground next to me, but I didn’t know what to do next. My clothes were stretched to the limit, and I didn’t plan on leaving anyway, but I was naked and kind of chilly in a home I knew nothing about. Being a woman now was not my most immediate problem.
      What was a big problem was not knowing how I’d deal with Vienna later. Hopefully when she sobered up she’d be a lot easier to deal with. Unfortunately, I had to wait a long time until that moment: a long time without a shirt or any pants.
     
      Vienna’s mansion seemed like it was being occupied by an invading army. Everywhere I looked, the décor was at war with the building itself. There was a zebra-stripe carpet in the marble ballroom. TV dinner trays were stacked on the grand oak dining table, along with a hibachi with an inch of dust on the iron griddle. The fireplace had a battery of lava lamps stuck inside it, and the library, stuffed wall to wall with leather-bound tomes, was crammed with arcade machines, photo booths, and a disco floor that lit up like a giant game of Simon. Vienna, like a hermit crab, was trying to make this mansion her home, with much less success.
      I had to explore the house because Vienna had a hangover so intense that it might have killed her. In medical school they never told us how to treat a 90-year-old with alcohol poising. Perhaps they covered it after I got kicked out. Fortunately, I found the kitchen, which was covered in empty bottles of vodka. I wasn’t sure if she was actually going to drink water if I gave it to her, so I put it in a vodka bottle and walked back upstairs.
      When I returned, she looked like she was dead.
      Seriously, she looked dead. Her skin was grey. I’d heard doctors talk about dead bodies, and I hoped we were going to mess with some cadavers in class, but I’d never actually seen one. The doctors said that dead people looked grey, like there was no color in them. So far, getting kicked out of medical school was really messing with me.
      “Are you alright? Get up!” She was cold to the touch. She wasn’t moving. I didn’t even know if she was breathing. I tried feeling for her pulse, but my heart was beating so fast that I wasn’t sure if I felt my pulse or hers. I tried to keep my cool. My phone was gone. I didn’t know if Vienna had a cell phone. I called for help in my new female voice. It sounded awful, but I realized I had to do CPR. I had to be very careful. I had been certified, but that was before my weight tripled. If I wasn’t careful I could crush her ribcage, and then I’d have to clean the goop off my arms. I grabbed her by the arms to put her on the floor, and that’s when she started swelling.
      I panicked for real. She was bloating like an inflatable doll. Her chicken-skin arms grew until all the flesh on her arm was tight. The wrinkles in her face disappeared. Her clothes were stretched to the breaking point and he body bulged around them. She grew to twice her size while I was losing my shit. Suddenly her arms moved. I screamed like a girl for the first time, and what happened next certainly didn’t make me stop screaming. She dug her fingers into her chest and tore her skin open.
      Then, like a butterfly emerging from her chrysalis, Vienna tore off the rubbery skin that enshrouded her. A spray of green fluid erupted from the spent skin and Vienna emerged. She kept peeling and wriggling until all that was left was her slick, moist body. She coughed so long and so deeply I thought she was going to spit up her large intestine. What she spat out was a mouthful of chunky, black mucus.
      “Jesus, what a kick!”
      She sounded like angels. She sounded like the squish of a spoon cutting through cheesecake. “What are you looking at?” she said. There was plenty to look at.
      Gone were the wrinkles and the flaps of skin. Her turkey neck and crinkled flaps of elbow flesh were scraps on the floor. Her skin was smooth as pudding and it glistened in the smoky air. Gone were the surgery scars and the pinched, stretched look cultivated through many surgeries. Gone was the old-lady hunch on her back. Her body was beginning to dry, like water evaporating off of a boiled egg, and even though she was peeling dead skin off of her hand like a grey, rubbery glove, she was so perfectly silhouetted against the only window that I forgot everything and wanted to take her to bed.
      “Oh, that’s much better. I can walk now, and now I don’t have to fucking cough anymore. What do you think, Gucci?”
      My smile disappeared. “What did you call me?”
      “I called you Gucci, duh. It’s your name.”
      “My name’s Jim.”
      “Jim’s a stupid name for a girl. Gucci is much better.”
      “Don’t make up names that don’t exist!”
      She sighed. “Now I get to go shopping again!”
      “Does that mean I get new clothes?” I asked. She answered by jumping on my belly so hard that she knocked the wind out of me.
      My belly was so big that it was hard for her to miss. I was still wearing that stretched out t-shirt, and even though my pants had split apart, my underwear was still embedded somewhere inside my crotch. She was in her nineties, but she had a body of a woman less than half that age. She grabbed me with all an energy she hadn’t had in decades.
      I don’t know how a thirty-something can subdue a 500 pound lady, but I was probably too weak. I hadn’t had this heavy for long. It was like I had just had barbells strapped to every part of me. I could waddle through the mansion, but I could barely hold onto that bottle of water that I brought back to her. I didn’t stand a chance.
      At least it was better than admitting to my parents that I had been kicked out of school.
     
      She made love to me every single day. This was more of what I was expecting from this arrangement, and being a fat woman didn’t stop me from enjoying myself. There was little to do otherwise. Three weeks in, and Vienna hadn’t gotten me any clothes. She was in no rush. We weren’t going outside at all, and she certainly wasn’t going to take me anywhere. To tell the truth, she may not have had nowhere else to go.
      Vienna was getting younger every day. Every few days I would notice something different about her. Her eyes would seem a little bigger. Her cheeks would look a little chubbier. Her voice would get a little sharper and higher, and she’d bound around the house with the energy of a fawn. She’d get dressed in my room, take her meals there, watch TV with me, and sitting on me like I was a couch. Then, of course, she’d fuck me. She was not gentle.
      “Look at that,” she said, curling her arm. Her bicep was big and hard. “The doctor said I’d be much stronger when I got younger. It helps me fuck the chubby bitches.”
      “You’re…you’re hurting me—“
      “So? You think that I brought you here just so I could be nice to you? Who’s going to help you now?”
      “Stop holding my arms—ow!”
      “Make me, fatty.”
      I was so heavy that I could barely lift my arms. They were so thick that I could barely put up a fight. Vienna’s hands were clamped on my wrists like a pair of handcuffs. It didn’t matter that my wrists were thick as bologna, it didn’t stop her from squeezing and squeezing until her thumb met her forefinger.
      “Stop it!”
      “Go ahead, scream.” She was squeezing the bones in my wrist together. I could feel them grinding together. She could feel it too, and she was thrilled.
      She flipped me onto my stomach, like a beached whale. I tried to crawl away, but before I could get out Roger, the butler, arrived with the ropes Vienna ordered. She tied me around the wrists and the ankles, making the ropes too tight so that I wouldn’t try to move. She lashed me to the bedposts and lashed my ankles to another bed across the room. I lay on the dusty carpet, my arms and legs burning, but I forgot all about that when the belt hit me across my ass.
      My ass was so big and the belt so thin that it was like a bullwhip snapping across my cheeks. “That’s what you get for being such a fat slob, Gucci. You don’t even know how ugly you are, do you?”
      I wasn’t going to answer, but she hit me again. Six more times she whipped my ass, and it felt like being covered in glowing coals. Being fat doesn’t make the blows hurt any less. It just gives you more space on your body to hit. I got more stripes on my bottom that night than a zebra in a candy cane factor. They wounds were pulsing and stinging, but Vienna was not finished.
      I could hear her fingering herself behind me, whacking me on the thighs and giving me long, red stripes across both legs. “Say you’re fat.”
      I wouldn’t say it.
      “Say it!” The belt slapped across my thighs, just above the knees. She beat me over and over again until I just wanted it done.
      “I’m fat.”
      “No, not like that! I mean, say it like it’s a fat joke.”
      ‘She wants a joke? I don’t know any fat jokes—“
      “Say it!” The belt snapped around my calves. They jiggled with the impact.
      “I’m…I’m so fat that…that—“
      “Say it faster!” Smack!
      “I’m so fat that I sweat butter!”
      “Yeah, that’s it, now come up with another one.”
      “I’m so fat that when I “sit around the room’, I sit around the room.”
      “Tell me more.”
      “I’m so fat, before sex my husband had to roll me in flour to find the wet spot. I’m so fat, I have more chins than a Hong Kong phone book. I’m so fat, I…I…”
      She hit me across the back. That one actually made me cry: first time since I’d been kicked out of medical school. She hit me across the lower back again and again, thinking she could hurt me into making more jokes, but I was too out of breath from the pain, and too busy sobbing to say anything.
      I looked this up later. Apparently, they don’t touch upon the effects of S&M in medical school, so I probably wouldn’t have learned this even if I hadn’t gotten kicked out. Safe places to beat a partner are on the thighs, the buttocks, and the upper back near the shoulders. These places are fleshy enough and have big, hard bones that don’t break easily. Vienna hit me on the lower back, which is crammed with kidneys, intestines, and fragile ribs. I was fat enough to keep me safe from internal bleeding. I was small enough to feel like I got hit by a truck.
      She jumped on my back and untied the ropes. “I want a hippo ride!” Her thighs were so powerful they could crack walnuts. It was as if she had been working at the gym for years, and every day was leg day. She dug her knees into my bruised kidneys and said, “Giddyap!”
      I couldn’t do it. I could barely stand on my hands and knees. “I guess you’re too fat for that too. Are you hungry, you fat hippo?”
      The next thing I knew, she was sitting in front of me, legs spread wide open. “You’re going to lose weight. Starting tonight, I’m putting you on a pussy diet.”
      My tongue was the only thing that could move at the moment. I lapped at her cunt like a dog: a stuffed, overfed, beaten dog. One thing I knew was how to give a girl cunnilingus. I pressed my tongue to her vulva, made it broad and flat, and lapped with long, frim strokes, like painting a house, like bathing a kitten. I stared into her belly and saw her abs forming beneath her taut skin. Everything clenched together when she came. She grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking. Squealing and gasping, she finally came to rest with her head buried in my back, gripping tightly onto the flaps of flesh that wobbled under my arms.
      “Well, keep going,” she said.
     
      Now I was heavy, female, and bruised all over. Even when I could move, my legs were so stiff and swollen that I felt like they were made of wood. I crawled through the doors, and rolled down the hall to get breakfast. By that time, Vienna had finished her breakfast of Pop Tarts and vodka, and she presented me with a bowl of pudding as big as a satellite dish.
      “Here, piggy piggy...”
      There was no spoon and no one to feed me. I tried lapping it up, but Vienna grabbed my hair and plunged my face into the brown goo.
      “You’re not snorting,” she said. Through the pudding in my eyes I could see that Vienna had gotten even younger. She had the body of a kickboxer and dark, hard eyes. She was gorgeous.
      “Won’t snort?” she said, raising her fist.
      “Hork, hork!” I snuffled and snorted and snored with every breath I took. Gallons of pudding slid down my throat. I could feel the pounds piling onto my body. Still, I couldn’t finish the whole bowl.
      Then she told me, “You’re going to wear it.” She slapped a gob of pudding on my back and rubbed it between my fat rolls. My crotch was caked in it. She poured it down my front until I was brown as a chocolate bunny. That’s when she bit me.
      She bit me right on the side, right on one of my fat rolls. I heard her teeth sink into my love handle with a loud crunch.
      I pushed her off. There were teeth marks in my flesh, “What the fuck? I’m bleeding! Do you know how many germs are in your mouth?”
      She punched me in the boob. “Never push me again!”
      I doubled over like a sack of oats. Out of breath, bruised, and covered in pudding: it wasn’t the way I expected to live the rest of my life, if indeed I had a life left to live.
      “I’m going for a walk,” Vienna said. She slapped me on the bottom and wiped her hand on the carpet. I felt as shapeless and battered as a lump of mashed potatoes.
      I supposed I deserved it. I hadn’t signed up for this because I had lots of options, but I didn’t relish getting beaten and covered in pudding every night. I at least expected some variety, and that was a grave disappointment. The only thing Vienna wanted was power. I dragged myself to the kitchen and asked Roger for some vodka.
      “What brand, madam?”
      “It’s only to clean a bite,” I said, “Smirnoff should do it.”
      “Excellent choice, madam.”
      I scraped away the pudding and blood. “I have to clean this thing before it gets infected. It’s bad enough that it’s a bite mark, but I got pudding in it too.”
      “You know a lot about bite marks, madam. You must know something about medicine.”
      I poured the vodka on a towel. I was stiff and bruised, and to that I added the sting of alcohol. It was a sharp pain compared to the bland suffering I’d already digested.
      “Were you a doctor, madam?”
      “I could have been.”
      “Then you must know something about cellular regeneration.”
      “No, I don’t—wait a minute...”
      “It’s what’s making her younger, you know.”
      I did know something about it. I went to a symposium about it hosted by one of my biochemistry professors. That was the day before we both got kicked out. Her lecture was all about cellular regeneration.
      Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be there, although at that time I was doing a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to be doing. Laura got me and independent study exemption. She wanted me to be there. She just didn’t know her husband was watching.
      “Aging isn’t simply the deterioration of cells and gradual slides into fragility,” she explained. “It’s a breakdown of fundamental systems for replacing damaged parts and healing tissues. If you can recharge that system and renew it, you can get rid of the aging parts, and depending on how much of a charge you get you can regenerate at a rate consistent with a certain biological age. It’s maintaining that chemical environment and not oversaturating it that’s the challenge.”
      “I have an idea,” I told Roger. “Do you have any iodine?”
      “Sure.”
      “Any baking soda?”
      “Yes, madam.”
      “Any potassium benzoate?”
      He shrugged.
      “Don’t worry about it. We’ll pick things up as we go.”
     
      The plan was to create a chemical compound, which we introduced into Vienna’s vodka supply for two weeks. She drank it without question, and she continued to whip me and tie me up too.
      She fed me more and more pudding, ice cream, Jell-O: anything that could make a mess. She pumped me with enough alcohol to drown a frat, not realizing that my increased weight and all the food I had in my belly kept me from getting drunk. I sure was buzzed, though. It didn’t keep me from putting on another 100 pounds. My breasts were like sandbags. My arms were so big that they were nearly as wide as they were long. My thighs were so big that they got in the way when I walked, so I had to crawl like a giant baby, and I still didn’t have any clothes. I had hoped to get a dress, at least.
      There was to be a party one night, and Vienna put me front and center. I was to be covered in chocolate shell at dessert to be eaten by everyone. I sat in the middle of the ballroom and waited for the guests to arrive. Vienna greeted each of them, not out of politeness, but just so she could shake the men’s hands and squeeze them in her muscled fist.
      Where these people had come from, I didn’t know. I thought Vienna had paid them to come since she didn’t have any friends, but it looked like they weren’t there for the money. One woman wore a dress made of dildos and cellophane. Another one wore a hazardous material suit, as did her date. They regarded me almost like a piece of art, looking up at me and nodding to one another.
      “Rather symbolic of the whole venue, if I do say so myself.”
      “Decadence in our modern bourgeois society…”
      “She’s beautiful,” said a woman standing behind me. I could barely get a look at her. She was just over my shoulder, but my neck was so thick and my cheeks so swollen that I couldn’t see her face. All I could see were her white, schoolgirl stockings, which were wrapped in barbed wire. She stood there with her hands at her side and her jaw dropped in awe.
      As I was trying to see her face, Vienna got up on my stomach and shouted, “Hey! Everyone listen up!” Just then, Roger rolled up a cart loaded with big cardboard canisters. Each one had twenty gallons of ice cream in it.
      “My girl Gucci and I want to thank you for showing up to my awesome party. As you can see, Gucci’s absolutely starving, but she’s so fat that she can’t even lift a spoon. Do her a favor, and feed her for me, will ya?”
      I was not thrilled. I’d been gaining weight for weeks, and now Vienna was going to make her hipster art friends stuff me with dessert. A man with a handlebar moustache picked up a bowl of ice cream. As he tried to climb up my belly, I swapped him away like a mosquito.
      “Ah, ah! No you don’t.”
      “I’m not hungry.”
      That wasn’t good enough, though. Suddenly I felt an iron grip on my right arm. Vienna pulled it behind my back, and then she grabbed my left arm. I tried to kick but Vienna pulled my arms so hard I through my shoulders were going to break.
      “No fussing, little piggy,” she giggled. She told her guests to start feeding me. Each one climb up my stomach. I tried to keep my mouth closed, but Vienna just tightened her grip. My stomach had gotten really big. I could hold a lot of food, and all of it was going to weigh me down even more.
      Soon I’d be so round that I wouldn’t be able to walk. My crotch would hang down between my knees, and my shoulders would be next to my ears. Then Vienna wouldn’t even have to tie me down. I’d be a ball, a lump: a shifting, wobbling blob lying on my side and waiting for her to fuck me in the ass. My hands, flapping and twisting at my sides, would only grow chubbier as Vienna fattened me to the size of an elephant.
      “Why don’t you just enjoy it?” Vienna pleaded. “When do you get to eat all the ice cream you want? When do you get to live in a mansion for free?” Her grip tightened like a noose. “I try to have a good time and you just…squirm!”
      Vienna squeaked like a little girl. She covered her mouth, and I pulled my hand away. She grabbed my hand again, but she couldn’t pull it back as far as she used to. She was getting weaker. She tried to wrap her hand around my fat wrist, but she was getting small.
      “Stop struggling!” she squeaked. Her voice broke every time she tried to shout. Was wasn’t going to let her hold me again. I kept squirming, kicking off the guests who were trying to feed me. Vienna tried to get control again, but she couldn’t regain control yet. I realized, finally, that the cocktail I’d been feeding her had worked. She was getting smaller; she was getting even younger.
      The shorter she got, the less defined her body was. Entire muscle groups disappeared underneath swelling layers of baby fat. She tried holding me, but I yanked my arm away and she fell on her face. “Shit!” she squeaked. She looked at her hands and her arms. She couldn’t see her biceps, she realized that she was in trouble.
      “Roger, get the doctor on the phone right now!” She screamed for him to come, but he was nowhere to be found. Roger had made himself scarce, just as we had arranged.
      “I don’t want to get younger. I was perfect! No, please don’t make me smaller!”
      Shorter, skinnier, and younger: Vienna was regressing out of her sexy body. Her guests were just holding their ice cream bowls, watching her shrink lower and lower.
      “Help me!” she screeched. “I’m getting too small. Call a doctor. Why… why don’t you do something?”
      “I’ll do something,” I said. She was just another girl, so I picked her up in my giant hands.
      “Put me down! I told you never to touch me again—“
      “What are you going to do, spank me? Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”
      “What?” she peeped. “What do you mean?”
      I laid her over my knee. “Stop it! Fucking stop it! What do you think you’re doing? I’m going to kick you out of this house! I’m going to call the police! They’re going to stuff you in a cell and fuck you in the shower!”
      Scream as she might, there was nothing to keep me from pulling down her oversized pants and raising my big fat had. My hand was bigger than her skinny little bottom.
      “Bad girl! Bad, bad, bad, bad!”
      The hipster artists watched and nodded. I spanked her until her bottom glowed like a red hot poker. I pulled up her pants and set her on the floor, shaking and sobbing.
      “Now, go stand in the corner and stay there until I sat so.”
      “But…but…but…”
      “And if you move one inch I’m going to glaze your backside all over again, you hear?”
      She started to cry.
      “Go!” I pointed to the corner, but she wouldn’t move. I slapped her on the behind. “Go!”
      She shuffled into the corner, holding onto her ill-fitting clothes and staring at the ground. When she was there I turned to the guests, who stared at me like I was a collective nightmare.
      I looked for the woman with the barbed-wire stockings: she was nowhere to be seen. “Thank you all for coming, ladies and gentlemen. Please enjoy yourselves.”
      They looked at their bowls of ice cream and shrugged. I handed out ice cream to everyone and told the DJ to crank it up. Soon the room was charged up, just in time for us to bring out the vodka hoard from the kitchen.  
      Vienna tried to break out of the corner, but as soon as she saw me glaring at her she ran back. Each time she turned her head, I was right there. She didn’t move until the last guest staggered out th front door.
      “Vienna, you can come out now.”
      Her eyes were red as cherries. Her shoulders heaved. Tears flowed down her cheeks like a river, and whenever she sobbed she blew snot bubbles out her nose. “I…I…”
      “Yes, Vienna?”
      “I wanted to go to the party!” she sobbed.
      “Well, you were a bad girl, Vienna. All this time I’ve lived in your house, and you didn’t even give me any clothes to wear.”
      “I…I didn’t—“ Her breasts heaved and bounced with every sob.
      “Now, now, stop that crying. Come here, honey.”
      She held back, but I held out my giant, blubbery arms and smiled. “Come on, honey. I’m not going to hurt you.”
      She sidled into my arms, then buried her head in my breasts. She dug so deep that I couldn’t hear her. I only felt her body shaking underneath my piles of flab. I held her in hands and lifted her head out of my cleavage. “Everything’s going to be alright now.”
      “I…I don’t want to be young anymore.”
      I kissed her on the forehead and hugged her. I looked down at her. Her pants had fallen down. She still had such a nice ass. Her little breasts heaved and bounced in their own perky way. For a sixteen-year-old, she was beautiful. I felt hot, holding her shivering body against mine.
      I began to stroke her pussy. Soon she stopped sobbing, and then she started moaning.
      “Will you be a good girl for me, Vienna?”
      “Yes…”
      I guided her mouth to my nipple. She looked like she was going to smother in my bosom, but her soft little mouth latched on and didn’t let go. My heart started pounding. I pinched my other nipple and squeezed my breast. Vienna ran her hands all over my belly. She sank her fingers into my flesh and I sank my fingers into her cunt.
      Soon I was lying on my back. Vienna stood between my open legs, rubbing her pussy on mine. My legs were the size of barrels and my belly was like the roof of a car. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt every little finger and every stroke of her tongue. I could just barely lift my arms up with tug at my nipples. I mashed my breasts with my club-like fingers, trying to come.
      “Put your foot in,” I said.
      “I did.”
      “I mean further.”
      I gasped. Her toes were right on my G-spot, wiggling and twiddling all at the same time.  “That’s it…keep going…keep going!”
      When I came, it was like I was lighter than air. I returned the favor, sticking my fingers into Vienna until she passed out on top of me.
     
      When I awoke the next day, Vienna was still lying on top of me with a little blanket over her. My stomach rose and fell, but she was still, spreading her legs and arms over me like a starfish, and I was a big rock in the middle of the sea.
      When she awoke, she screamed and told me that I was never going to spank her again. Twenty minutes later she was standing in the corner, rubbing her backside in silence.
A Fat Girl For the Mansion (TG WG AR)
Some people will do anything to avoid confronting the truth. Jim has been kicked out of medical school, and rather than face his parents, he decides to shack up with an old lady looking for a male companion. He doesn't even mind the fact that she wants to turn him into a fat lady, but when the job becomes a threat to life and limb, he has to find some way to free himself from his mistress's iron grip.

Commissioned by :iconsomeguycalledmattie: Enjoy!
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Only one standing up to plague on Thebes. Blind guy accuses me of starting it. Accusations only prove soothsayer bias #fakenews

deviantID

praedatorius
Malleable human forms
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Current Residence: New Jersey
deviantWEAR sizing preference: XXL
Favourite genre of music: Classic Rock, Classical, Greek Chant
Favourite style of art: Surrealism, Engraving, Art Deco
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Shell of choice: Scallop
Wallpaper of choice: Pure White Lover Bizzare Jelly from No More Heroes, Hunters in the Snow by Peter Bruegel
Favourite cartoon character: Samurai Jack
Personal Quote: "Keep calm and carry on."
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:iconastaroth90:
astaroth90 Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2017
Thanks for all the faves!
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You're welcome!
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Thanks for the :+fav:
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Thanks
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Thank you for the faves.
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Thanks for the faves!
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Thank you darlin' for the faves!
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