New story, folx! Involves magic, fast pregnancy, weight gain, eating...
This dusty old book, long forgotten in the corner of the neighborhood rare book shop, nearly jumped at me as I shuffled past. Teetering on a tall stack that my foot bumped, fell to the floor in front of me with a leaden thump. Picking it up, I could feel the energy in the book match my own. I had to take it home with me. A quick exchange of ten dollars and I was back out into the world, trotting swiftly home and clutching the tome to my chest.
Kicking off my shoes and shrugging off my coat, I hurriedly shut the door behind me and padded to my office. Putting the book on my desk, I could swear it actually glowed, purple and green. I decided I was hungry, so some quick work on DoorDash to order food and I set to cleaning the book's dust and aged-caked cover. As I gently dusted away the years, the leather, a rich , deep burgundy began to shine and the gold embossed writing glittered like new again. "Concerning Fertility and Growth" was all the cover said in Welsh, circled in Celtic knotwork. The large book was positively thrumming energy through me now, warm and comforting. Then the knock at the door, my food had arrived. I answered and, noting the attractiveness of the woman handing my sustenance over, smiled, chatted with her a few moments, tipped her over-generously and rushed back to the book. It was open.
I did not open it before I answered the door, I remembered that much for sure. But, nevertheless, here it was open to a section titled "On the practice of simulation and quickening". I sat down to read the introduction and found what I bought was a book of fertility spells. This section was about simulating pregnancy and speeding spells. I read on, shoving food in my mouth and, remembering now, absently fondling my breasts with my free hand. These spells were designed to prepare the body for future pregnancies by simulation of everything that happens during the process. The basic spell took nine weeks to complete, however, there were sub-spells associated with that could quicken the process to "a single sun". I couldn't help but think this book had been put in that shop specifically for me, as my secret desire was to be pregnant, round and full of life. I resolved to cast the spell as it called for "at first light" the next morning. This was going to be glorious.
I rose early the next morning, made coffee and toast, my standard breakfast, and set about casting the spell. Luckily, I had everything I needed and set to work at sunup. I repeated the spells words, feeling the energy flow through me almost immediately. My cheeks flushed, my breathing quickened, my whole body rushed with sensual power. As I finished and the sun crested the horizon, I could feel the change in me, I was pregnant, or at least going to appear as pregnant.
The first hour there wasn't much of a change. I felt warm, perhaps, and very hungry. Today was shopping day, so there wasn't much left in the house, but I certainly wasn't going out anywhere. Back to the internet, I ordered enough breakfast for a family of four and sat back to enjoy my day. As I waited for food, I started to feel the changes. Slow at first, but my breasts began to swell. I looked and could actually at one point see them getting bigger. My pyjama top started to feel a little snug and my nipples definitely poked through the knit fabric more than normal. Just as I was marvelling at this, the delivery showed. Without thinking, I toddled over and answered it, the same young woman from yesterday staring back at me. She blushed and mumbled something about how I could look this good at this hour of the morning, chatted again for a moment, trying hard to not stare at my newly engorged breasts, and left in an adorably awkward way. I tucked into my breakfast, eating pancakes, eggs, potatoes, toast, sausage, bacon, and orange juice. It was enough for an army and I shouldn't have been able to eat it all, but I did. I felt unstoppable.
The second hour brought the first real changes in my belly. Already bloated from my gargantuan breakfast, I felt a sudden rush, a quickening, I guess. Putting my hands to my belly, I felt it swell - pushing out against my hands and stretching my waist band. Just a little, but it was there. And I was in heaven. My wildest dreams coming true, thanks to a chance stop at the corner bookseller. I rushed to my closet mirror and looked. Sure enough, there was a bump, little but there. I also noticed my butt looked a little bigger, too. And my boobs were definitely swollen. All in all, I did look pretty damn good. I showered, did my hair, and got dressed in my favorite jeans and peasant blouse. The jeans were already getting tight, I noted while laughing. These had always been my "fat jeans" for my period days.
I spent the third hour mostly on my knees over the toilet, vomiting and wishing for death. I was so nauseous and sick, everything made me puke. Crackers. Water. Thinking. I could feel another growth spurt, but I didn't care, I just wanted to not feel this way anymore. When I could stand up and walk, I felt the new weight in my belly and now hips, marvelling this was all real.
Hour number four brought energy back and a new appetite. I ordered more food, absently requesting the pretty delivery girl from my last two, giving her a five star review. She showed up and remarked I must have a hose full, smiling as she handed my bag to me. As we talked, I felt my body start to grow again. Thinking the blouse would hide it, I kept on, feeling my jeans tightening around my growing bump. It must have been too much, because in the middle of a sentence, they popped and the button went flying, hitting her just below the waist. I felt I wanted to up and die from embarrassment as she bent down to pick it up and then looked up to see the pink strip of bare belly my newly unbuttoned pants revealed from beneath. She simply smiled at me as she handed it back, remarking that we've all been there. And then she TOUCHED MY BELLY as she turned to leave. I nearly fell over from just how good it felt. I called after her that she better stay ready, she would be making more deliveries today. As she got back to her car she replied she hoped so. I died. I think she was into me!
Five hours in and I abandoned the jeans, peeling them off my widening butt and eating the three footling subs I'd gotten so quickly I'm not sure I chewed. I found a stretchy skirt and put it on my now noticeable belly and took off my bra because it was digging into my back and shoulders. It had stopped fitting late in hour three, anyhow, only really serving to give me muffin boobs. I could feel them come to rest on my belly as everything began to swell again. This time, I could feel my body grow in all directions. I was getting fat. My boobs plumped up even more, my belly swelled more than it had the whole morning, my hips and butt bloated against the skirt's soft fabric, and for the first time in my life, I felt my thighs touch. I rushed to the bathroom mirror to see my face had changed, too. My cheeks looked plump and round, rosy. A little double chin had started to show, as well. Even my hair looked thicker, silky and shiny. I was so beautiful in that moment.
Six hours in brought more weight and more growth. I was now definitely both pregnant and plump. And hungry. So hungry. I wanted the woman to come back, but how would I explain the changes in me? I was a different person compared to yesterday. A fat, rapidly swelling pregnant balloon. Eventually, I gave in and ordered again. Four orders of chicken Parm, a full pound of ziti marinara with a double order of garlic bread and three slices of chocolate cake. If I was going to be fat, I might as well go for broke. When the delivery girl arrived, resolved to hide behind the door, that way she wouldn't get a good look at everything that was happening. As I answered, I kept the majority of myself hidden, or so I thought. She handed me the three bags of food, smiling like she knew I was embarrassed and asked if I was okay. I told her yes I was fine and she then said something that nearly broke me. She told me she liked coming here to see how I'd changes each time and she wanted to see me now. I balked for a moment, but relented and stepped from behind the door. My blouse, now stretched snugly atop my prominent belly, my breasts pulling at the seams. My skirt, stretchy and a little loose an hour ago slung low under my dome, forming a sort of smile shape of flesh between the blouse and waist band. I had new love handles on my sides, my wrists were puffy, and even my cheeks had gotten rounder. I hung my head in embarrassment and she took my hand. She explained that, while she didn't know exactly what was going on, she liked it and wanted me to know she would be back whenever I wanted her to be. She then took her pen and wrote her private number on my palm. I was to call her if I needed anything, anything at all. She put her hands on my belly and kissed my cheek as she was leaving and all I could do was stand there speechless, waving. I think I was in love.
Hour seven saw me put my new friend's contact in my phone and the destruction of the Italian food I'd bought and an absolute explosion in growth. My belly bore the brunt this time, swelling out to push my blouse up under my boobs. It felt like it was halfway to my knees at this point and I still had at least two hours to go. I stripped naked, peeling my panties off of my now massive backside, feeling my fat cheeks jiggle as the fabric slid past the curve. I wiggled out of them and waddled naked back to the kitchen. The waddling was new, but then so was my girth and I loved it. I was waddling! A fat, waddling pregnant woman, full and swollen, bloated from food and in absolute heaven. I reached for my phone and pulled up my newest contact. I typed out a message to her, saying if she liked my belly before she should see it now and hit send. It chirped back almost immediately with a message that I should show up or shut up, kissy face of course. I got dizzy. I was naked, fattened, pregnant and growing my the moment, do I dare? I did. I snapped a picture as best I could and sent it to her. She messaged back that she liked it and wanted to see more, could she come over. I slammed the phone down, shocked. This woman was straight trying to seduce me, even in this state. Against my better judgement, I said yes and waddled to try and find something, anything I could wrap around me.
The eighth hour saw her show up, looking irresistible in just a t-shirt and jeans, and me wrapped in a bedsheet, literally the only thing big enough to fit me. She had a bag with her that had some clothes she swore would fit me, so we set about proving the theory. There were shirts and skirts, all large and stretchy and so, so comfortable. Weirdly enough, everything did fit me. We talked and ordered more food. I explained what was going on, finding the book and the spell inside, and now living the reality of what she saw before me. She just smiled and took it all in like she already knew it, rubbing my belly and cooing softly. Food arrived and she spread it out on my kitchen table. Mediterranean, this time. Shawarma, spanakopita, Greek potatoes, flatbreads, hummus, tabouli, falafel, all sorts of olives, cheeses, and a brick of baklava the size of my head. It must have cost two hundred dollars for everything and I initially skoffed, saying it was too much, too expensive, blah blah blah. She simply tut-tutted me and sat me down at the table to eat. She fed me until I thought I would pop, and then the now familiar rush hit me, it was time to grow. I looked her in the eye, telling her it was going to get weird for a moment and be prepared. She responded by putting her hands on my belly and saying she wanted to feel it. Apparently eight months is when I really get big, because I grew. And grew. And grew. The skirt, previously a comfortable loose grew snug, then tight, then uncomfortable, then it slid down my belly, giving up. I started to drop, my roundness pushing my legs apart. I sat back, feeling my body change and her hands never left me. She stood up and leaned in to kiss me, sending waves of visceral pleasure through me. My hands went to hers and we just connected in that moment. Two people as one. Eventually my growth abated and we parted lips. She stood back to admire my new form, laughing that she should have brought larger clothes. I remember giggling and feeling my body jiggle as I did. I remarked I'd never been this fat and she smiled, asking if I had a scale.
The ninth hour opened with me being heaved up to standing and lumber/waddling into the bathroom to get my scale. Well, more accurately, she would get it, there was no way I could bend. She set it down in front of me and helped me undress. She caressed my curves and kissed my neck as she pulled my skirt down, letting it drop to the floor. She then explored my belly from behind, tracing circles as she pressed her thin, lithe body into mine. She guided me to the scale and I stepped on. It settled on a number and she asked what I had weighed yesterday. I told her and she laughed. Indignantly I demanded to know what she thought was so funny, and she responded with something like my body is made for being pregnant, as I was as big as I was, but had only officially gained forty pounds. I felt so much bigger than that. My growth spurt came early, while still on the scale and she watched as the numbers went up again. Eight months in eight hours and fifty two all my body relaxed pounds gained. I felt like a goddess and said as much. She said I reminded her of Áine, the Irish fertility goddess. She led me back to the kitchen to finish the food and I noticed that as I sat, my belly rested on the chair, I was now that pregnant.
She continued feeding me and fondling me as we went into the tenth hour, an hour I thought would be the end of it. I was tired, swollen, moon-faced, and glassy-eyed. In a complete haze, I slowly realized I was growing yet again, and I put my hands on my belly. It swelled out more and more, causing me to arch my back and lean in my chair. It pushed my breasts to the side now and then dropped even further. As it subsided, I asked her to get a tape measure from my office. She obliged and proceeded to wrap it around me. Well, mostly. I had grown, in the final "month" enough to make a standard measure useless. I was huge, round, tight. I looked down at myself and saw nothing but my belly, round and smooth. I asked her how big and she told me I was nearly to my knees. I ached everywhere and was out of breath. All I could do was sit and prepare myself for whatever would happen. The sun hung low now in the sky, so the spell would be complete soon. I looked and felt like a water balloon about to pop. About halfway through, I started to feel the cramping. Contractions were starting. Light at first, but as we went into ten hours, they really hit. Powerful contractions, wracking my body and clamping down on my belly. Twenty minutes, then ten, then five, two, every minute. One after the other, all while I could feel myself dialating. I had her walk me to the bathroom, naked, sweating, in pain. She stripped down with me and we sat in the tub, she behind me, rubbing me gently as I pushed and pushed, feeling the pressure build in me until I could feel something passing out of me. And then another. And another. After the third, the pain stopped and my body relaxed. I leaned back, feeling her stroking my hair and know kissing my shoulders, her free hand on my now deflating belly. She laughed and I asked, exhausted, why. She simply said this was a hell of a first date.
Over the next two days my body returned to complete normal, my belly shrank back, my breasts, hips and butt, like nothing happened. She stayed with me, reading the book and studying it. We learned the spells can be cast on anyone, female or male, and women can produce offspring if desired. We giggled, talked, ate, kissed and explored each other a LOT. Eventually, I was up to going out and we went to go back to the bookseller where I found the grimoire. It wasn't there. Just an empty storefront, disused for years with soaped over windows. We looked at each other and knew that everything that had happened was meant to be. I was supposed to find that book, supposed to meet her, everything. We walked on, hand in hand and after a little while she asked when it would be her turn.
What’s your absolute favorite part of the process: planning the massive menu, watching them take that first bite, or seeing the long-term changes over time?
I have to say, watching the look of bliss wash over a face as that first bite hits is pretty special.
Not may folks know this, but I got my degree in art. This piece speaks to me. I particularly love the texture that the plain gessoed canvas lets through, it lends a monumental quality to the piece. Such an inspired little detail, I love it.
What is is with tiramisu having such a moment lately? Don't get me wrong, I would absoLUTELY fuck up some tiramisu, but like, it's everywhere across all of my feeds.
