Weight Room Title Bar

At the Bus Stop
By Raven Dreamstone

I gracefully sit down on the bench to wait for the bus. I take out my notebook and begin to doodle the little cartoons I so love to make. Five minutes pass. My enormous belly rumbles. The five delicious Danishes I munched for breakfast weren't enough. Oh well. I'll buy a few crullers once I get downtown.

Two short-haired, thin women approach the bench. I notice them when they're about twenty feet away. They look me up and down, talking and laughing. I gaze back down at my notebook. I'm used to being stared at by the smaller members of the human population.

To my surprise, and semi-dismay, the giggling pair sits down on the bench next to me. I continue to doodle and mind my own business. The thinner of the two, with hair chopped just above her ears, whispers to her slightly chubbier, more timid friend. “Ohmygawd…. if I ever get that huge, do you promise to put me out of my misery?”

The other one tosses her hair and stifles a snort. “Yeah…but you gotta promise to do the same for me. I couldn't bear to look in the mirror if I looked like that.”

Apparently, they think I'm deaf. It's funny how many people think that large people can't hear what others say about them. Especially in such close proximity. And such things they say! I am not in misery; never have been. I'm in love with a gorgeous and accepting man, and have a very successful writing career. And although I am not obsessed with my reflection (like some narcissistic ladies), I enjoy a glance at the mirror now and then.

These women obviously have no clue what they're talking about. Just two more brainwashed Stepford twits, looking for ways to build up their non-existent self-confidence. Fortunately for them, I've studied witchcraft since I was twelve. I'm now thirty, so my ability to manipulate time and space is quite honed. I will teach them a lesson using my extraordinary powers. And hopefully afterwards, they'll learn the true value of self-acceptance.

The thinner one grabs a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. I could have predicted that, I think. Generally, these fat-hating type women love to suck on cancer sticks. They've been taught that doing so will keep them thin. But not today….no…..today I will be employing the cigarettes as my spell-helpers. As quietly as a mouse, I whisper an incantation to put the spell in motion. They both light up. It's time to begin their transformation………..

Their chests expand, normally, as they inhale the tobacco smoke. But instead of retracting as the women exhale, their breasts begin to grow. Slowly but surely, their tiny teats begin to expand. They don't notice the changes yet. Part of my spell keeps them from being aware of the effects. Unaware of the effects, that is, until the transformation is complete.

I am now watching them without hiding my stare. They don't notice me, either. I giggle, much as they giggled at me, as their breasts begin to overflow their bras. Larger…..larger……larger! I concentrate my powers. Their breasts bulge inside their tiny shirts……their shirt buttons pop off…..their bras snap and fall to the pavement……their breasts are now the size of soccer balls, pulsing with fat and growing ever steadily, naked in the noon daylight. Their nipples need plumping, so I tell them to grow until they are the size of large chocolate chip cookies.

I focus harder, and their stomachs begin to fill with gushing fat. They look pregnant, I think, and they will get even larger….growing…..pulsing……grow, grow……. They continue to suck on their cigarettes, each inhale making them huger than before. The once-thin women are now way past my size (and I am a pretty hefty lady). They must weigh at least 400 pounds each by now. I must balance them out, for their bottom halves have yet to expand.

They haven't quite finished their cigarettes yet. When they finish smoking, they will see their new forms. I must hurry and finish the spell before they're left with these ripe, swollen tops with tiny, emaciated legs. Wouldn't want them to fall over and hurt themselves…..no…..just want them to feel what it's like to be a big and beautiful woman.

Their breasts and stomachs continue to blimp as I tell their butts and thighs to grow. Hurry….hurry…..thighs and butts, swell to the balance out those heaving breasts…swell to support those quivering jelly bellies…..grow…..grow…..

Both women's rear ends explode out. Rippling rolls of beautiful flab erupt. Soon they are both sitting on huge cushions of fatty butt padding. Their thighs are each as thick as their bodies used to be. I smile. My lovely creations. Bouncy, beautiful women with beach ball bosoms, 50-gallon bellies, and gorgeously enormous bottoms. No more wasting away for them, no more smoking to stay thin, just self-love and indulgence in their future. And men, I'm sure……real men, the kind who love a pumped-up woman with curves.

They drift into awareness after dropping the smoldering butts on the ground. The once-thinner woman looks down in utter shock at her newly expanded body. Her bare breasts swing, each weighing about 80 pounds, as she recoils from her own body in terror. “Whu----what happened to me?”

Her friend begins to laugh at her, but then feels her quadruple chin jiggle as she chuckles. “Ohmygawd…..I'm huge, too!”

They start to hyperventilate, bosoms quaking and butts wobbling around on the almost-collapsing bench. I stand up in front of them, so as to give them more room to move in.

“Hello, my plump friends. Remember me?” I say kindly. The spell was so intense, and their subdued hazes so intense, that they probably are having trouble remembering much of the day before “waking up” in these blubbery bodies.

“Yuh-yuh-you did this, didn't you? Huh-who are you?” the first woman whimpers, a tear sliding down her chubby cheek. Her giant exposed nipples harden as she sets eyes on her maker.

“I am a powerful and super-sized witch who decided that you two need to be taught a lesson about kindness and self-confidence,” I smile. “You had better stop that crying, now, ladies. Better get used to your new bodies, too, because you'll be this way for the rest of your time on Earth. Don't worry…..the sensations you'll experience will be wonderful…..you'll start to appreciate what I've done for you.”

They gasp and begin to cry harder. I shrug, take one last look at my enormous creations, and begin to walk downtown. It's really not that far, and I might as well take in some fresh air before I arrive at the donut shop. My own sizeable belly sways comfortingly as I waddle down the street.

I predict good things for those women. Hopefully they'll a) be able to stand up and get a ride home, b) realize that being abundantly fleshy is a blessing, and c) find a pair of admiring men who will encourage them to get even larger.

I bite into the first warm cruller……mmmmmmmmm…….and wait for my next opportunity to enlighten a rude citizen. They're always different after I finish with them.