BBW House of Candy (Weight Gain)

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MathMachine4

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Contains Female WG & GTS. The intro is long, and contains some arguing, but the weight gain is fast. Oh, and just to make it perfectly clear, the main characters are NOT brother and sister. Enjoy!


House of Candy
by MathMachine4


CHAPTER 1

How did we get to this point? How did a simple walk through the forest turn into me arguing with my best friend as we both freeze to death in the snow? "How was I supposed to know it'd start snowing in the middle of the Summer?" I shout, the only way she'd hear me over the freezing winds. "You could've at least had SOME sort of emergency plan, Hank!" Greta replies, projecting a deal of anger you wouldn’t expect from someone of her short stature and stick thin frame. "I did have a plan! I left a trail of breadcrumbs!" "We were going to use that bread to make sandwiches!"

I should probably back up a bit. It all started this morning. It's Greta's birthday, and she wanted to go the beach. But there was just one small problem: all the roads were blocked off. We actually spent an hour driving around, before eventually, I just suggested we park somewhere close to the beach and walk from there.

So that brings us to now, walking through the forest, in the midst of an unexplainable blizzard. "This is just great! I'm cold! I'm starving! Honestly, this is the best birthday present ever! I always wanted to freeze to death!" Greta shouts. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen, okay?!" I reply, on the verge of tears. "Hank...I don't wanna argue. Let's just focus on staying alive, okay?" she says, trying her best not to cry as well. I nod.

Just then, I notice something, "Greta, look!" I exclaim, pointing at a faint orange glow in the fog. She gasps, "Do you think someone's there?" "Let's see!" We run as fast as we can towards the light in the distance, taking long steps so we can get through the thick, summer snow.

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

Greta and I have been friends for a long time. We were next door neighbors as kids. Her house had a swimming pool, my house didn't, so one day, my parents asked hers if I could come over. We've basically been best friends ever since. Her parents would always comment about “how nice our little Margaret is getting along with the boy next door.” Her parents always called her that, Margaret. She went for Greta for short. Some people call her Marge…she doesn’t usually like those people.

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

As we run closer and closer, we see that the source of light is from some sort of house. When we finally arrive, we make no haste in getting inside, not even bothering to knock first. "THANK GOD! WARMTH!" Greta exclaims as she darts in. Keep in mind, it's the middle of July, none of us even thought to bring winter gear. The moment we're both in, I shut the door, place my hands in my armpits, and sit down against the wall, curled in a ball.

“Hank, are you seeing this?” Greta asks in awe. I look up, only now realizing that this house is made entirely of candy. “This can’t be real…” I speak, taken aback, but not willing to muster the strength to get up. She takes a whiff, “It smells divine,” she says, ecstasy in her voice. While Greta is probably just as cold if not more so than I, her stomach has also been grumbling practically nonstop since we started walking. Her intense hunger outweighs her desire for warmth, and she starts nibbling on one of the dining room chairs. “Mmmmh! Sho good!” she says, a bright smile on her face. I swear, her smile is contagious. Whenever she does it, I can’t help but smile back.

“Hey Greta…I’m sorry I got us into this mess.” I apologize, head tilted down. She smiles at me, “It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean to.” “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” I ask. “Hmmm, well for starters, could you please look around the house to see if anyone’s home?” My feet still somewhat numb, I struggle to stand up, before searching the house for inhabitants. Greta, meanwhile, continues to feast on the peppermint legs and graham cracker seat of her chair.

I search through every room in this strange house. There are three bedrooms, four bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room. This is actually a pretty sizable house. And while I wasn’t searching rigorously for exceptions, it seems the only things in this house that aren’t made of candy are the blankets in the bedrooms and the toiletries in the bathrooms. And yet I couldn’t spot a single living soul. “I don’t think anyone’s home, Greta.” I speak to my friend, who continues to hungrily consume the candy chair. “[MMMH] That’sh good to know. If anyone comesh home [GULP] I’m sure we can explain to them the whole thing.” “Hey, Greta,” I ask, “do you need anything else? It was pretty cold out, I’m scared we might’ve gotten hypothermia.” “It’s weird, I was cold before, but once I started eating, I warmed right up…” “Really? What’s in this candy?” I ask. She offers me a piece of the chair. Hesitantly, I decide to take a bite. “Did that help?” she asks sincerely. “…A bit…but not much…” “Aww, I’m sorry…” “I don’t think I have hypothermia…I don’t think…I think I just need to get under some covers and lie down…are you gonna be okay down here?” I ask, still concerned for my best friend. “I’ll be fine. Just get some rest,” she reassures me. “Okay…happy birthday, Greta.” I say, sincerely. “Thanks Hank,” she replies with a slight smile. I smile back, even her lesser smiles are contagious.

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

Greta and I went to school together, from elementary to high. We’d often be in the same classes together, and usually sit together at lunch. She always had a specific look to her: long, straight, blonde hair down to her hips, a modest blouse, and usually some sort of accessory in her hair. When we were walking through the forest, she was wearing a blue plastic headband. She was taller than me when we were kids, but when we hit puberty, I became the tall one. Now that we’re both adults, she stands at a petite 4’9, 85 lbs. (152 cm, 41 kg), whereas I stand at 5’8, 120 lbs. (170 cm, 54 kg). We were always best friends, but never more than that…not that I didn’t think about being more. I was always scared if we dated, it would ruin things between us. Besides, we were always dating someone else. She dated 2 guys in high school, and I dated…one girl, for like a week. Well, okay, but I had more relationships when I went off to college. As for Greta, she actually almost got engaged. They were both really happy together, but then he proposed, and that was the last I ever heard of him.

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

I’m woken up by a lovely voice whispering in my ear, “Pssst! Hank!” “Hmm?” I ask, turning to face the blonde beauty. Thoroughly convinced the events I experienced were nothing but a dream, I'm surprised when I turn to see the same gingerbread house, the same chocolate bar door, and the same icing lined ceiling. To be honest, though, the most surprising thing I see is Greta herself. She’s now a much different looking woman than she was this morning. Her once petite A cups have grown to triple Ds at least. Her once small bottom has rounded out to be shapely and plump. Even her once flat belly now has a layer of pudge on it. “Hey, Hank…would you mind coming downstairs for a bit?” She asks, a bit of concern on her face.
 
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MathMachine4

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CHAPTER 2

I follow the now-curvy blonde downstairs. Along the way, I notice that, on top of gaining weight, she also, for some reason, has grown taller. She’s not as tall as me, but she’s not nearly as short as she was this morning. She leads me to the kitchen, and quickly warns me, “Okay, so…don’t freak out, but…” before opening the oven. What I then see, I should warn, is gruesome. It appears to be a humanoid figure that’s been burnt to a crisp. “Greta! What did you do?!” I exclaim, horrified. “I swear it wasn’t me! I was planning on making some dinner, and when I opened the oven, this is what I saw! That’s why I asked you to come down here!”

After further inspection, we find that the burnt human is cold, indicating this was done a while ago. “What do we do with it?” I ask my friend. I hear her stomach grumble, “I don’t know, but we better hurry up, I’m starving! And we can’t make dinner with a corpse in the oven…at least I hope it’s a corpse…god forbid it’s still alive…” We both pull the dead body out of the oven, and carry it outside. Several pieces of char fall off the body as we carry it. Once we drop it outside, what we see, believe it or not, is even stranger.

We see several…I think they’re fairies? Maybe pixies? Whatever they are, they fly towards us. “You summoned us, queen?” One of them says. But as they see the charred corpse, they all gasp. “You killed our queen!” One exclaims. “What happened to our queen?” “When did this happen?” “Is this why she hasn’t summoned us in 87 years?” Scared, Greta speaks, “Um…I…I think she’s dead…” The small creatures pause for a moment, before rejoicing, “Hooray! The witch is dead!” One of them gets on the floor and delivers a pathetic kick to the corpse. They begin to celebrate, and while I was scared before, now…I’m more or less just confused.

“What are you…things?” I ask over the loud sounds of celebration. “We’re pixies! We were summoned to serve our witch queen!” “But now that she’s dead, we no longer have to serve the mean old witch!” “Ma’am,” one of the pixies says to Greta, “as gratitude for killing the wicked witch who showed no mercy, we’d like to make you our new queen!” I correct the pixie, “Oh, no, she didn’t ki—” Greta slaps a hand over my mouth and interrupts, “I’d LOVE to be your new queen!!” “Hooray!” the pixies rejoice. “Greta, what are you doing?” I whisper to her, “We don’t know what these things are, for all we know, they’re the ones who put that supposed witch in the oven.” “Oh relax, what’s the worst that could happen?” she whispers back.

She then turns to the still celebrating pixies, “My first command as your queen is for you to make us dinner!” “Oh, we’re not allowed in the gingerbread house.” “Yeah, Miss Witch made that very clear. The first and last pixie who went into the house got her wings pulled, her hair shaven, and was drowned in a boiling cauldron.” Greta replies, “Well ‘Miss Witch’ isn’t here anymore. I’m your new queen, and I’m hungry! Now make us some dinner, chop chop!” “Hooray!” the pixies cheer, rushing inside and scrambling around the kitchen.

“What would you like us to make?” asks one of the pixies with a scratchy voice. “Surprise me! Just make sure it tastes good! And make sure it’s a feast built for a king, I’m STARVING!” my hungry friend commands, her tummy grumbling in agreement. “Yes ma’am!” the pixie responds enthusiastically. “Oh, one more thing,” Greta says to the pixies. “Yes, your highness?” one of them asks. Greta giggles at her new title, “The snow, would that happen to have anything to do with this ‘Miss Witch’ you mentioned?” “Yes, the witch casted all sorts of spells and enchantments on this realm. The seasons go by very quickly here, that’s why it’s currently covered in snow.” “Right…well, could you by chance make it Summer?” “Of course! That’s one of the few spells the witch taught us how to cast! She didn’t want to go through the trouble every time of—” “Just do it, okay?” Greta commands. A pixie whispers some strange incantation. All of a sudden, just outside the window, all the snow starts melting. Greta grabs me by the hand and pulls me back outside. I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

Just outside the house, we see a huge lake. It's not gross or filled with algae, it's a clear blueish hue. No frogs, no geese, I don't even see any fish. “Yes! I can finally go swimming for my birthday!” Greta exclaims excitedly, “Hank, go inside and get our swimsuits, m’kay?” “Sure thing, birthday girl,” I say, smiling. I just can't help it, like I said, her smile’s contagious. Once we get our swimwear on, I have to do a double take on Greta. Now, I've always been pretty slim, but Greta was always the skinniest of us two. Looking at her now, though…well, I think I'm the skinny one now. Her boobs look like they're gonna explode out of her bikini top any second. Her butt and thighs are stretching the shit out of her bikini bottom, resulting in her having to readjust her wedgie every several seconds. And her belly, while not fat, appears to have a much thicker layer of pudge than I previously thought.

“So, how do I look?” she asks, beaming with happiness. “…you look beautiful” I respond, a bit awestruck. “Awww, thanks! You look pretty handsome yourself! Race you to the pond!” she exclaims, running outside. I quickly sprint after her. Her big butt jiggles behind her and her long hair waves in the wind. “Hah! Beat you!” the curvy blonde exclaims after jumping into the lake. “No fair, you got a head start!” I object, dipping a toe into the water. It's surprisingly warm, despite having thawed out just a few minutes ago. “No need to be such a sore loser!” she says, giggling as I finish submerging myself in the water.

Greta then splashes me. “Greta?” “What?” she says innocently, before splashing me again. “Cut it out,” I say, giggling. “Cut what out?” she says, once again splashing me. I splash her back, and we end up getting into somewhat of a splash fight. “Thunder clap!” she exclaims, lowering her voice and clapping her hands to send a large splash my way. In doing so, I can see her generous breasts jiggle through the progression of her clap. After a while, the splash fight dies down, and she races me to the other side of the lake. Under normal conditions, I’d probably win this race, but given her now more buoyant figure, she ends up just barely beating me.

After about an hour or so of just playing around in the lake, we stop at a shallow zone close to the gingerbread house to take a breather. “God, today has been perfect…” Greta says, leaning back, hair hanging down into the water. “Really?” I ask, questioning her judgement. “Of course! I mean, the nearly freezing to death part sucked.” “Which, again, sorry for that…” I interrupt. “It’s fine, it’s not like you could’ve known that would happen. Anyways, aside from that, this day was pretty great.” “So, you’re not at all bothered by the fact that we’re currently lost in some…weird magical forest, and we have no idea how to get back home?” I say, a bit of sarcasm in my voice. “Nah, I don’t mind. It’s not like I had anything to do back home anyway. Besides, if I had to be lost in the forest with anyone,” she leans against me, “I’d want it to be you.” I blush.

“H-hey, um…Greta?” I speak nervously. “Yeah?” “I’ve been meaning to ask you…whatever happened to that one guy you were engaged to, Henry?” She giggles, “well, first of all, we weren’t engaged, that would imply I said yes. And second of all, Henry and I haven’t talked since that night.” “So, you two are…” “Yeah, we broke up that night.” “But…why? You seemed so happy together.” “I was. We were. Happy, that is. It’s just…when I saw him, down on one knee, I realized…” she gets off me, turns her head to me, and her face goes a somewhat awkward red, “I realized, I know exactly who I want to spend my life with, and…it’s not Henry…” “You do? It’s not?” I say, growing all the more nervous. “…Hank…” she starts, placing her hands on my shoulders, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She leans toward me. Oh god, this is it, isn’t it? I lean into the kiss as well, but just before it happens…

“DINNER’S READY!” exclaims a pixie from far away. Suddenly, I hear a loud grumble from Greta’s stomach. Her attention is completely redirected as she gets up, grabs my hand, and runs toward the house, her large butt jiggling behind her. Once again, I chuckle at my friend’s enthusiasm as she takes me to the house.
 
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MathMachine4

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CHAPTER 3

When we get inside, we’re greeted by a large feast, big enough to feed a family. There are three large roasted chickens, a plate of butter rolls, mashed potatoes, mixed veggies, 2 big bowls of mac and cheese, a large apple pie, and a plate of sausages. I speak to the fairies, “Whoa, um, when Greta said she wanted a feast fit for a king…I don’t think she meant—” “IT’S PERFECT!” the curvy blonde interrupts, rushing over to the table to dig in to her feast. A pixie giggles, “feel free to eat whatever you want, your highness! The witch cast a spell that prevents us from running out of food or accumulating garbage, so if you get full, we can just throw the rest away.” “[MMMH!], thanksh, [mmm], wow, you guysh are shooo good at cooking!” Greta says, standing against the table and shoveling food into her mouth.

Feeling pretty hungry myself, I grab a roll from the table. “DROP THAT ROLL AT ONCE!” one of the pixies commands, a deep intimidating pitch in his voice. “This feast is reserved for the royal Queen Gret—” “Whoa whoa, hey guys,” Greta interrupts, dropping all her food and positioning herself between the threatening pixie and myself, “Hank’s my friend, he can eat whatever he wants!” “Very well, my apologies your highness,” the pixie says, looking down. “You better be sorry. Guys, new rule, whatever you do, you don’t get to hurt Hank! Understood?” “But what if he acts out of line?” “If he acts out of line, I’ll punish him myself,” she says, playfully slapping me. “…very well…sorry m’lady.” “It’s alright,” she says, picking up from where she left off with her feast.

I finally take a bite out of the butter roll. “Mmmh, you’re right, this is tasty!” “I know, right?!” she agrees, giggling. “Um, hey, pixies, do you know where all the chairs are?” I ask as I look around for a place to sit. “We only take orders from our queen!” a pixie responds. “Hey! Don’t be rude to Hank, either!” she yells at the pixies, before turning back to me, “Also, sorry Hank…I kinda ate all the seats.” “Wow, all of them? You must’ve been really hungry!” I exclaim. “[MMMH], you have no idea! I ate six chairs, a flower vase, and a coffee table before I called you downstairs!” That explains quite a bit, to be fair. “Anyways, sorry about the pixies threatening you Hank,” she apologizes. “It’s fine, it’s not like you could’ve known that would happen.” She smiles at me. Once again, I smile back.

“Hey, pixies, can you go find a chair for my friend so he can sit his ass down?” “With pleasure, your majesty.” She giggles, still not accustomed to the regal titles. After they fetch me a chair, Greta orders the pixies to leave us alone. I assumed initially this was so we could continue from where we left off at the lake, but instead, Greta continues gobbling down the hearty feast. I suppose that moment can wait for another time. We’re still young, after all. It’s not like we’re in any rush. At some point, we both decide to change back into our normal clothes, but Greta makes haste in doing so so that she can return to her feast as soon as possible.

I end up eating, well, a normal meal’s worth of food before I start feeling full. By that time, though, Greta’s eaten at least twice as much as me. And she’s still going. I never knew she had such an appetite. At some point, she’s exhausted most of the food within arm’s reach, and she begins to move around the table. It’s at this point that I begin to notice her body changing. Over time, her belly, boobs, and butt are all slowly but surely growing larger. Her belly begins pressing against the table, her butt jiggles more and more every time she has to move around the table, and at some point, a rip forms along the cleavage line of her once loose-fitting blouse. For some reason, I just can’t look away.

When she finally finishes her great feast, she’s just barely on the verge between curvy and fat. From some angles she looks fat, and from some angles she just looks really thick. Her blouse is essentially a crop top at this point, and is basically on the verge of being ripped to shreds thanks to her large breasts. Her now exposed midriff reveals a very deep navel, and while it doesn't stick out as far as her boobs, her belly still juts out very far. I can see it jiggle around with every motion. She's still attractive in the conventional sense, but it's a fine line right now.

“Ahhh, that really hit the spot!” Greta exclaims, hands on her plump belly, “That was so good, right?” “Yeah, it was pretty good.” I comment, standing up. She stretches and yawns, “God, I’m really tired for some reason.” She walks over to the couch, her butt jiggling behind her in the process, and takes a seat. As she walks over, I notice something: her and I are now the same height. “Come sit with me.” she says, patting the spot beside her. I do just that, and she leans her head on my shoulder, her soft hair brushing against me as she gently closes her eyes and smiles.

What I decide to do next, admittedly a strange move, is to put my hand on her belly. Just to know what it feels like. “Hee hee, that tickles,” she says, eyes still closed. Her belly is so large. I mean, it doesn't compare to her breasts, but I never expected to see a gut like this on Greta. It’s so soft, too. You’d expect it to be bloated and hard after a feast like that. Maybe one of those spells the pixies talked about is causing her to digest food more quickly. That’s probably why it took so long for her to start feeling full. That is, assuming she is full, and not just tired of eating.

I can’t believe this is the same girl from this morning. She looks so much fuller. I hope for her sake that she doesn’t fill out any further. I’m still struggling to judge whether or not she fully qualifies as “fat”. Honestly, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t more attracted to her now. It’s normal to be attracted to curvy women, right? I wonder if that’s the end goal of the spell, to bring us closer together somehow. She does seem a lot looser around me than she was before. I haven’t looked in a mirror lately, I wonder if the spell is making me more attractive to her as well. Perhaps she’s no longer hungry now. Perhaps the spell has done all it needed to do. I’d have to assume the spell is also responsible for her change in height. I mean, I still thought she was cute when she was shorter, but…I mean, something kinda feels more natural about this, now that we’re the same height.

Suddenly, I start getting tired as well. We both fall asleep in each other’s arms, and for a whole night, everything was perfect.

The next morning…
 
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MathMachine4

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CHAPTER 4

I wake up the next morning on the same couch. Greta’s in the other room, hungrily gobbling up a stack of pancakes. I stand up, arms stretched out and yawning. “Good morning sleepy head!” she playfully greets me with another of her contagious smiles. “Morning, Greta,” I reply, smiling back at her, “how'd you sleep?” “Great! You?” “Pretty goo—” I utter, before nearly tripping on the coffee table. Wait...

“Um, Greta, was this coffee table here last night?” I ask. “Nope! Neither were these chairs, or this vase. The pixies say everything we eat here regenerates the next morning.” “Hmm, I guess we don’t have to worry about starving, then,” I say, walking to the dining room table.

"Wait, Greta, didn't the pixies clean up last night?" I ask, staring at the cascade of dirty dishes covering up most of the table. "Of course, silly! [NOM] This is just from today's breakfast." Greta explains. "Wait, you had all this for breakfast?" I ask, shocked. "Yup! It was sooooo good! The pixies made me pancakes, eggs, waffles, French toast, omelets, normal toast, sausages, it was all so yummy!!!" From what I see on the table, this must've been a sizable feast, just as big as if not even bigger than the one last night.

She continues, “Speaking of which, Hank, I saved you some food!” She gets up to bring me my breakfast. As she does so, I realize she's gotten very big this morning. While last night, she was somewhere between chubby and fat, now she's just fat. Her boobs have grown to a size you’d only see on an overweight woman. Her belly, which now juts even further out than her boobs, wobbles around with every step she takes. Not to mention, as she walks closer to me, I notice she’s now a good few inches taller than me. My morning wood, which was receding before, suddenly stands to full attention. What is wrong with me? Why is the idea of my best friend becoming fat so arousing to me?

"What're you staring at?" Greta giggles, a suggestive smile on her surprisingly still thin face. "Um, oh, uhhhh..." I speak, flustered, "I was...just...wondering where you got that shirt from." "Oh this?" she asks, looking down, "My old shirt was getting pretty tight, so the pixies made me a new one. Do you like it?" She asks, tilting her gaze back to me. "Yeah, it's [GULP] it really suits you." Her smile widens.

She hands me a plate with 2 pancakes, 2 slices of toast, 3 sausages, and some scrambled eggs. “Sorry that I didn't save you much,” she apologizes, looking down, "You gotta understand, I was really, really, REALLY hungry when I woke up!" "Don't worry, this is actually more than enough," I chuckle, "Besides, I'm glad you, *ahem* got enough to eat." I say, looking at her belly. "Well," she giggles, "you have to eat a big breakfast if you wanna keep a healthy metabolism. After all, how do you think I stay so skinny?" she replies, patting her fat belly, causing it to jiggle. She doesn't sound like she’s kidding. Surely, she’s gotta know, right? There’s no way she couldn’t realize it yet.

“By the way,” the large blonde says, pulling me into a hug, “Thank you for yesterday, Hank. I know it's not what we had in mind, but it was honestly the best birthday ever.” She presses me against her soft belly. “N-no problem Greta,” I say, my wood growing stronger, my face growing redder, “y-you’re the best friend ever." She pauses, tilting her gaze down slightly to look at me, “Just friends?” she asks. I stutter, “What, no…um…I mean, I…” She smiles at me. Just then, though, our little moment is again interrupted by one of those annoying pixies.

“My liege, do you want us to clean the table?” "Ugh," Greta turns to face the pixie, her belly rubbing against me, “yes, but don’t touch that one plate at the end, Hank still hasn’t eaten." “Yes, ma’am.” “You should probably go eat your breakfast,” Greta says softly, turning back to face me.

Greta must’ve been up for a few hours to eat that much food. Yet despite it being out for so long, it's still warm. I suppose that must be another one of those spells the pixies mentioned.

I proceed to eat my breakfast, the pixies proceed to clean up, and Greta proceeds to munch down on some candy furniture. I'm actually really worried about her. She’s never had an appetite like this before, it has to be some sort of spell. And if she really is oblivious to her weight gain, I'd hate to imagine how upset she'll be when she finally realizes what she's done to her body.

I mean...I suppose she's not *that* fat. Once we get home and the spell wears off, it might only take her a few months to lose the weight, or at least get back down to a healthy weight. I just hope, for her sake, she doesn't get too much fatter. I suppose the best thing to do is to get back home as quickly as possible.

“Um, hey Greta?” I ask my plus sized friend as she gorges on the peanut brittle umbrella stand. “[MMH], yeah?” “Do you remember how we got here?” “I….actually, I don’t…” “Come to think of it, the last thing I remember before walking with you in the snow was…I think…walking past a…hold on....let me see if I can remember anything after that, though…”

“Pixies," Greta asks, "do you know how we can find our way home? For some reason, neither of us can remember how we got here.” “Ah yes, the amnesia spell. The witch made it so anyone who enters this realm cannot remember how they got here.” “Did she tell any of you how to get back?” Greta asks. “I’m afraid not. She feared we were too stupid to keep that information to ourselves.” the pixie replies. “Do you have any navigation tools or anything?” Greta asks. “Well, we have some string. You can look around the forest, unraveling the string as you go along, and when you need to get back, just follow the string back.” The pixie hands Greta a spool of thread, then continues, “I’m afraid that’s the best we can do for you, though. You’ll just have to look around.”

Greta and I head out to find a way home. She brings the umbrella stand with her as a snack, as well as one of the couch cushions. Once she finishes those off, however, her belly immediately starts grumbling. "Um, hey, Hank..." Greta speaks sheepishly, "I'm getting kinda hungry, do you mind if I head back?"

Shit, what do I say? It's not like I can tell her no, but at the same time, I'm scared what she might do to her body once she gets back to the gingerbread house. "Um," I speak nervously, "I was actually kinda hoping we could spend some more time together." "I know, and I was really hoping for that too, but I'm also really, REAALLY hungry!" she replies, her belly grumbling as she speaks. "Um..." I hesitate, "I suppose I can go looking by myself. I'll be sure to tell you if I find anything." "Thanks, Hank!" she replies hastily. She then gives me a quick hug, before sprinting back to the house like her life depends on it. Seeing her fat butt shaking behind her, I once again become erect. What is wrong with me?
 

MathMachine4

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CHAPTER 5

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When we were kids, we'd often have sleepovers. We didn't want to sleep in sleeping bags, though, so we'd often just share beds. Sometimes, on cold nights, we'd even snuggle up together for warmth. I suppose it's kinda weird in hindsight, but we didn't think much of it back then. I mean, back then, we didn't really have much of a concept of...well, you know...

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After walking for a very long time, I start thinking about turning back. I hadn’t encountered anything strange along the way. I didn’t even see any wildlife. I saw traces of our trail of breadcrumbs at first, but they were all scattered around and didn’t really seem to go anywhere. Just as I'm about to turn around and follow the string back, I notice some lights in the distance. A house, maybe? I come closer, and to my surprise, I see what looks like a second gingerbread house. It’s very similar to the first one. It has 3 stories, a lake nearby. Same architecture. I walk around to the front door…only to see some string right out front.

I open the door, I see one of the pixies. “Did you find anything, Hank?” one of them asks. “No, I think I must’ve gone in a circle. But…I could’ve sworn I was going in a straight line the whole time!” “This realm is separate from the rest of Earth. It’s very small, and at a walking pace, you can generally go around the whole world in a little under two hours.” "Yikes, have I really been out for that long?"

Just then, I see Greta walking by. Except, she looks different than she did this morning. Her butt sticks out a great deal more, both butt cheeks looking like large orbs of fat. Her once thin face now has the slightest layer of pudge on it, with the beginnings of a double chin. Her belly is already sticking out from under her shirt, which I remind you was made for her just this morning. And she seems to have grown to well over 6 feet (30 cm) tall.

As she gobbles up what looks to be a clock made of gingerbread, she turns to face me and runs up to me. Her rapid weight gains seems to have little if any impact on her mobility. "Hank! I missed you so much!" She exclaims, pulling me into a tight hug, my mouth and chin pressed between her huge breasts. "I've only been out for a few hours." I let out a muffled reply. "It felt like an ETERNITY, though! I'm so glad you're back!"

"Greta," I start, kinda nervous at what I'm about to talk about, "have....have you noticed anything different about yourself since we got here?" "Hmm?" she lets go of the embrace, and looks down at herself, "hmm, not really, why do you ask?" "Nothing about your weight? Or your height?" "No" she says, confusion in her voice. "Greta, you're putting on a lot of weight. This house is doing something to you, and I'm scared for your health," I speak, scared after the fact of how she might react.

"What on earth are you talking about?" she asks confused, "I'm just as skinny as ever." She pats her tummy, causing to to jiggle. "Greta...come with me, I need to show you something." She follows me to the bathroom, and we look in the mirror. As expected, I see a very tall, very fat (and admittedly very cute) blonde with long hair, standing next to a thin brunette man.

"See?" my large friend responds, "Same as always! I'm the short, skinny one. You're the tall, cute one." She says, a smile on her plump face. "What is this, then?" I ask, grabbing her big belly, giving it a jiggle. "Stop it! That tickles!" she giggles, slapping my hand away. "What was I grabbing?" I ask. "You were pinching my stomach, weirdo," she replies playfully, "C'mon! The pixies made lunch!" She grabs me by the hand and eagerly leads me back downstairs.

She has to be under some sort of spell. That's the only explanation for how she can be so oblivious to her tremendous weight gain, not to mention her staggering growth spurt.

Once again, the pixies prepared a humongous feast for my hungry friend. She was practically watering at the mouth once it entered her gaze. She starts chowing down, her belly pressing against the table while she eats. "So what were you two doing upstairs?" asks a pixie. "Oh, he was just pinching my stomach and teasing me around." she replies, giggling. That wasn't at all what was going on. "Speaking of whom," Greta continues, "Hank, come sit with me!" Blushing, I oblige and take a seat next to my obese friend. I serve myself a normal sized lunch, while she serves herself 5. Though I'm almost certain she'll be hungry for more.

I suppose if she can't figure out what's going on, the only way to stop this curse is to find our way back home. I just hope she isn't too upset once she realizes what's happened to her body. In the meantime, all I can do is sit and marvel at my friend's fantastic display of gluttony. By the time she finishes it all, her shirt barely covers her belly anymore. This really shouldn't be turning me on.

"That was *really* good" Greta says, hands rested on her very fat belly. "I'm gonna go eat some more furniture, you wanna come with me?" she asks, quickly standing to her feet. "Oh, I'm not really hungry," I reply. "Not to eat, silly, to keep me company!" she giggles. "Oh, uh...okay."

Over the next several hours, she continually gorges herself, getting fatter and fatter over time. As afternoon becomes night, the pixies set out a large dinner that fills the table. Once she finishes it all, the pixies set out an equally large dessert feast. Which, to be fair, is a bit redundant in a house literally made of dessert. After she eats that, though, she goes back to consuming even more furniture.

Eventually, though, we both get pretty tuckered out. "I think I'm going to bed soon," she says, licking the icing from her fingers as she gets up. As she does so, I can see just how humongous she's become. For starters, she's now the height of a professional basketball player. Her breasts have attained that soft, bouncy shape that you only see on really fat girls. And her almost-double-chin has grown into a full double chin.

"What are you looking at?" Greta asks, smiling cutely. "Um, I was, um, just thinking 'hey, where are gonna sleep tonight?'" I say nervously. "Oh my god, you're right! We didn't get to pick bedrooms yet! [GASP] I gotta be quick so I can call dibs on the best one!" The huge blonde then sprints upstairs, the steps creaking under her, her big butt shaking, and her long, golden hair waving behind her. I quickly run after her, trying to get dibs on a better bedroom.

"Bam! Beat you to it!" she exclaims, having already found the biggest bedroom on the third floor. "Aw man. Well, I guess I'll just settle for the room across." I reply. She giggles, "or we could just share a bedroom together." she suggests. "Wh-then what was the point of us racing around trying to get the best room?!" I ask. She giggles, then shrugs. "So is that a yes on sharing beds?" she asks, hands behind her back. "W-wait, beds?" I ask. "Sure! The bed's more than big enough for us to share! It'll be like one of our childhood sleepovers!" "Um, er, uh, sure..." I respond nervously. She giggles.

We both brush our teeth in the master bathroom. Her large breasts wobble around as she brushes, and her big belly bumps into me any time she turns slightly. It's just so jarring to me. I know I've said it multiple times, but I feel like this needs emphasizing: she was skinny as a stick yesterday morning.

We both get in bed together. She acts as the big spoon, wrapping her fat arms around me. It actually is pretty reminiscent of our sleepovers. It was such an innocent thing back then, but I suppose when you're an adult, it takes on a much different connotation. Now, I should note, we didn't do anything sexual that night. Not that I didn't think about it. In fact, I don't think I've had a stronger erection in my life.
 
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