The Wicked Gnome By Matt L. (~BBW, Magic, Personality Change, ~MWG)

[WG Story Drone]

~BBW, Magic, Personality Change, ~MWG – A misanthropic magician works his wicked ways on an emotionally abusive gym teacher.

The Wicked Gnome​

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By Matt L.
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For all practical purposes Warrick Cavanagh used to be a normal man. A soured romance sent him off to Europe; a paradox of errors led him to the nomad lands of the Balkans. His identity adapted to his fascination with the macabre, and the knowledge he acquired warped his body and mind. The bitterness he experienced directed his objective of chaos to those well deserved.

The Gym Teacher​

A group of girls sat together at a local fast food hang out. All of them were seniors, all chubby or less than physically fit. The topic of their discussion, at least the portion that Warrick overheard, concerned their gym teacher, Ms. Gretchen Porter. Warrick intently listened as the girls complained one by one. Seems Ms. Porter played favorites with the cheerleaders and other popular chicks. However, there was more. Ms. Porter would encourage the cheerleaders in mocking the less athletic babes, and when the targets of ridicule would protest, Mrs. Porter sided with the cheerleaders.

“She actually called me a sow,” Andrea Larsen remarked, while Sonia Myers recalled the time Ms. Porter referred to her as a blimp in the making.

During the course of the conversation, Warrick further learned that Ms. Porter was quite becoming and would regularly flaunt her figure and popularity. The main purpose was to belittle the chubby gals and taunt them with her superiority. Warrick decided with much delight to equal things out…

Mrs. Porter was indeed an attractive young vixen. Gretchen routinely arrived to school a little early before class would begin for a casual workout. This spared her bank account the pricey cost of a fitness center; thus, she used her extra cash to keep her clothed in fashionable attire and on lavish vacations. The 28-year old Gretchen was exquisitely attractive. Wavy blond hair traced the tips of her shoulders, outlining her elegant facial features, and her figure was quite athletic. Dressed in a t-shirt and shorts of the blue and gold Adams High School colors, she moved like she owned the place, highly arrogant in her stride.

Warrick went unnoticed as he slithered between the shadows of the bleachers. Reading Gretchen’s mind, he discovered that she had always been conceited. Even in her high school and college years, she had shown a nasty attitude to those she categorized as social rejects. Vain, too, by the most ludicrous of definitions.

“Ah-ha,” Warrick uncovered a few inconsistencies concerning Gretchen. First off, her vibrant blond mane came directly out of the bottle; her natural hue was a dim shade of brownish-red. Secondly, Gretchen had been wearing contacts since her final year of college.

Gretchen was too self-absorbed with her workout to notice the changes that first occurred. Her golden locks reverted back to their original color and clipped into a short, unflattering hairstyle. Resembling a discount bob hairdo, her brownish-red hair wilted to the sides of her face and barely had any shine at all. Next up were her glasses that reflected an unobtrusive personality, basic black in color, the frames made of plastic.

Gretchen eventually noticed her glasses when they slipped down her nose while doing sit ups. She took off the dorky eyewear, closely examining it with a baffled expression. Slipping the glasses back onto her alluring face, she then was startled to see that her hair had not only changed back to its natural color but was much shorter. Standing up, she silently scratched her head before checking out her appearance in the female staff’s restroom.

Warrick wandered from behind, unseen in the darkness of the corner. It was amusing to watch Gretchen running her fingers through her limp mane, especially after she surmised, “I have to leave before anyone sees me.”

“No one will see you,” Warrick told Gretchen in a calm voice.

Gretchen spun around, “Who are you?”

“The better question, Ms. Porter, is who are you?” Warrick snapped back with a comical grin.

“This is a woman’s facility,” Gretchen pointed out with anger. “Men aren’t allowed in here!”

Warrick approached Gretchen, “I’ll be leaving shortly.”

Gretchen looked into his eyes and felt a burning sensation, “What do you want?”

An insidious grin formed on Warrick’s twisted face, “Your pompous approach to teaching physical education needs correcting. I’m here to aid you in a new career.”

Gretchen was quick to disagree, “Hey, my students love me! I’m an outstanding teacher!”

Warrick sighed, “You play favorites and mock your less popular students.”

Gretchen placed her hands over her slim hips, “I’m quite aware of which students need my attention and which students are socially inept.”

Warrick questioned with acid on his breath, “Why? Because they’re different?”

Gretchen tapped her foot, “I don’t have to answer your questions; leave here at once!”

“I’ll be leaving as soon as I complete my task,” Warrick snorted, “and don’t bother calling out. I’ve created a vacuum; no one knows we’re here.”

Gretchen cringed, “You did this to me? The hair, the glasses?”

Warrick sneered in disappointment, “For a college educated young lady, you’re really not all that intelligent.”

At this point Gretchen realized angering him wouldn’t be so smart, thus she surrendered her protocol, “I promise I’ll improve my skills, work harder, treat the misfits with respect. . .”

Warrick interrupted her, “See, there you go again. Misfits?”

Gretchen failed miserably at doubling back, “I meant fat chicks…Ew, I didn’t mean that!”

Warrick flexed his eyebrows. “You meant it,” he then instructed her. “Unable to lie, you owe me an honest reply…”

Gretchen’s stance crumbled, “Okay, I meant it, but I’m sorry!”

Warrick snickered, “Not so confident anymore?”

Gretchen once again pleaded to his better nature, “I understand the errors of my ways; please don’t change me!”

“But, Gretchen, a comeuppance is in order,” Warrick replied.

Gretchen backed away, ass sliding up against the full-length mirror.

Warrick waved his hand, “You’re not fit to teach. I think I’ll relieve you of your degree; better yet, you didn’t even finish high school!”

Gretchen’s eyes grew wide as her prestigious college career deserted her mind as well as her senior year of high school.

Warrick taunted Gretchen with an absentminded smile, “Now, how about a much more appropriate career?”

Gretchen cupped her mouth, “I haven’t any skills?”

Warrick shook his head, “Exactly, but, Greta, I think you would have learned a trade by now, and I would like to keep you here in school.”

Gretchen’s voice cracked, “Why?”

“I didn’t lower your IQ, so you figure it out!” Warrick chuckled.

Gretchen exhaled, “So I could be reminded of my former status?”

“Bingo!” Warrick snapped. “Now I think there’s an opening for a lunch room attendant?”

Unconsciously Gretchen protested, “You’re out of your mind! I’m nothing like those stupid fat cows!”

“Then what’s with the uniform?” Warrick asked. Gretchen was now attired in a scruffy looking, peach colored uniform.

Gretchen whimpered, “Please don’t do this.” The uniform bore the nametag, GRETA PORTER, CAFETERIA AIDE.

“You haven’t earned the right yet to serve the students; you will over time. Right now, your duties include washing dishes, taking out the trash and various other little chores.”

Gretchen swung her head. “No way will I do this for a living!”

Warrick humored her, “You’ll get used to it in time, and I expect you’ll eventually enjoy your career.”

Warrick then relinquished, “Naturally, you’ll want to fit in, and since you called the cafeteria employees stupid fat cows, we’ll start with your aptitude.”

A fuzzy feeling engulfed her mind, leaving her IQ tweaked and slightly diminished. Gretchen was able to comprehend basic tasks like cooking and cleaning, but was at an eighth grade reading level and a sixth grade math level. Her reading material now consisted of gossip magazines; her favorite TV show was The People’s Court, and she considered quantity before quality in terms of wardrobe. An obscure frown appeared over Gretchen’s face, “Okay, stop now, okay?”

Warrick smiled as Gretchen began to inflate. Her face became rounder; puffy cheeks with a spongy double chin removed her captivating features, rendering her just pretty enough. Gretchen’s breasts became a little roomier; she developed husky upper arms and a bulging corpulent belly. Her waist excelled in thickness, while a pulpy substance coated her all the more spacious hips, bloated butt and amazingly large thighs. At 195-pounds, Gretchen was now officially spherical in shape, her belly and butt meagerly propelling outward. Gretchen heavily sighed, her hands exploring her impressive girth, her flabby arms jiggling in the process. Shifting her apple shaped figure toward the mirror, Gretchen’s mouth dropped, “I’m totally fat!”

Warrick aligned next to Gretchen, “I concur, no more form-fitting jeans for you. Though I presume you have plenty of pantsuits, housedresses and sweats.” Warrick brought up the final change to her behavior, “Now Greta, owing to your comment about your fellow employee’s being cows, I gather you share the same disposition. Docile and domestic with a gargantuan appetite, in full acceptance of your status.”

Gretchen sluggishly moved her head toward Warrick, her eyes twinkling dimly, “But I’z remember I wuz, you know? Different.”

Warrick vigilantly informed her, “You’ll own your memories. Some, I trust, will fade away, but you’ll always remember your former appearance and former position in school.” Warrick brushed his hand against Gretchen’s, and cordially smiled, “You used to be extremely popular. Well, that’s all in the gutter now. But as a man who knows what it feels like to be rejected, I’m going to throw you a bone. You’ve never said hello to Pete, the stout janitor who's a couple of years younger than you. The reasons are obvious; you thought he was beneath you. But he’s a decent sort of chap, kind, honest, and lacks female companionship. Offer to buy him a cup of coffee this afternoon, and you’ll have a bright future together.”

“You think so?” Gretchen squeaked, her voice lacking confidence.

Warrick nodded, “Yeah, I do. However, he’s very passive, so don’t expect any kind of romance for around four years. You’ll be at least fifty pounds heavier by then – with many many more to come – but he’ll still appreciate you.”

“I’z expected in the kitchen,” Gretchen blandly whined.

As Gretchen indolently wobbled away, Warrick noted with confidence, “And, Greta, don’t be too surprised if a few of your former protégés refer to you as Miss Porker.”

And that was a fact.

Epilogue​

Warrick was not yet off the school campus when he noticed the condescending stares coming from a couple of preppy seniors: Colleen Dunnley, a cute dark haired gal whose hourglass figure looked magnificent in her cheerleading uniform, and the equally enticing Vanessa Hopskins, whose vibrant blond mane hugged her shoulders and was dressed in a stylish top and Gap jeans.

“Somebody was around with the ugly stick,” Warrick overheard one of them remark, while the other one laughed in harmony.

Warrick slightly twisted his head, grinning at the pair, while reaching the confines of the street. Colleen’s black hair was now in pigtails while her newly-established 220-pound, butterball figure was clad in blue overalls. Vanessa’s bust size dwindled to an A cup, and she was moderately thin until her hips where she developed a cushy potbelly, a drooping fat rear and swollen thighs. At 155-pounds, Vanessa’s pear shaped figure was clad in a flowery sundress covered by a blue granny style sweater. Colleen placed her thumb in her mouth, a newly acquire habit she did whenever she was nervous, “I don’t like the way he looked at us?”

Vanessa’s vibrant mane was now stringy and dull; freckles dotted her complexion and a bump of fatty tissue interrupted the straightness of nose. Vanessa shrugged her shoulders. “Me too,” she squealed, owing to a high pitch sound that now claimed her voice.

Warrick slowed their metabolism and increased their appetites, mainly in the arena of sweets. Neither one was left with any fashion sense and would eventually settle down with the type of guys they usually ignored, entertaining careers as full-time housewives.

Colleen shuffled toward the building. “I wonder if Miss Porter’s in yet? I like talking to her; she’s nice.”

“Me, too!” Vanessa noisily laughed, “Anyhow, I could use something to eat right about now.” Colleen smiled in agreement.

 

[WG Story Drone]

 

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[Matt L.]

 

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