The sorceress’s guards threw you roughly back into your cell, and had the door locked by the time you picked yourself up.
“Leave us,” she commanded, and they did.
She waited a long moment, the silence creating a vacuum, drawing your attention in. “So,” she finally began, “you’ve been quite the complication, my little… What was that title you’d chosen for yourself, again? Rogue, wasn’t it? How droll. Escaped a locked cell somehow, evaded my sentries, and apparently, let’s see… shimmied up the mana forge’s ventilation shaft to the surface? My, my… a commendable effort at escape, all undone by a loose flagstone.” She let her gaze linger on your slender physique, full of judgment. “Often it is the littlest things that are our greatest inconveniences. Don’t you agree?”
She ignored your defiant rejoinders, unconcerned. She even looked away long enough to… if only you had something heavy you could throw! But the opportunity passed.
“Unfortunately, little rogue, I can’t have you leaving quite yet. Not before I figure out whether you’re a sneakthief, a spy, or just a foolish thrillseeker. And since you won’t talk… I’m just going to have to slow you down a bit.”
She inhaled slow and deep, then blew out a sinister violet mist. It was the first real magic you had seen her do, and it was done slowly, with no fanfare, just a casual ease. The heavy fog billowed in mesmerizing plumes, pooling at her feet in a restless cloud. It whorled and seethed like a hunting hound, anxious to be turned loose upon its prey. There seemed to be much, much more of it than should have fit in her lungs.
Then, at a gesture from her hand, the fog began to move into your cell, surging as a mass of dim, airy tendrils. You backed away, but it was too fast, and even eyeless it sensed your movements, spreading across the floor until it found you, leaving you nowhere to hide. You glimpsed the sorceress, smiling cruelly as she watched the clinging cloud gather its fumes and surge up between your thighs.
The sensation was completely unexpected, and you tripped and fell almost immediately, submerging yourself further into the violet mist. Warm and surprisingly dense, it forced its way past your clothing, entering you, roiling like a tempest inside. You could feel yourself swelling to contain it, could hear your leather armor creaking over your bloated belly as it grew. In a daze, you hastened off the straps to free your enchanted flesh. You could feel your hips spreading against the rough stone of the cell floor, so cold against the new softness of your plush ass. The feeling continued. Still growing? You screamed, but the sorceress only laughed.
When it was finally over, your clothes and armor were in tatters, half-discarded. Your body was as large as any full-term pregnancy you’d ever seen, and your chest had swollen up, fat tits that sat heavily on top of your tight, full belly. Each thigh was easily as large as your slender waist had once been, but now both plump legs flared up to an ass that spread obscenely across the cell floor, wobbling when you moved. The evil mist had gone, all vanished up inside of you, overfilling you, making you into this bloated… thing.
“I’ll have some new clothes brought down to you,” the sorceress said. You had been exploring your new vastness; you had almost forgotten for a moment that she was there. “It’s no use trying to escape again; you’ll never fit through that route a second time.”
—–
True to her word, the sorceress sent clothing, delivered by some twisted, blind creature in her service. Vast, sheer nightgowns, loose over your huge body, that still clung somehow to your caricature curves. You tried to refuse them out of stubborn spite, but the dungeon was cold. Each daring neckline plunged deeper than the last.
You continued listening for the movements of the guards, testing possible routes of escape when you weren’t being monitored, but as the sorceress had said, you were much too big to fit through the same gaps in the bars you had used to escape the first time. You couldn’t even fit a tentative thigh past the opening, big as you now were. Your swollen body had made you a true prisoner in this cell for the first time, and in your attempts to test your confinement, you couldn’t avoid the feeling that you were being watched. Was it paranoia, or did the sorceress watch your escape attempts from a distance, with some spell? Blushing with shame and feeling quite foolish, you withdrew from the bars, sitting down heavily upon the cot.
Your rations had changed, too. Pastries and roasted meats replaced the previous thin gruel. You had meant to refuse them, not sure whether they were meant as mockery or as some trap, enchanted to make you even bigger. But you had not accounted for your body’s new appetite, and found yourself driven to eat ravenously, heedless of your suspicions. Nothing, you learned, could sate your hunger for long.
In the dim half-light, you schemed of escape and revenge, for a while. As hope faded, it became harder to focus on traps and trickery. Increasingly, you found your hands rubbing your enormous belly, acting all on their own.
—–
She woke you up with a too-cheerful “good morning!”, even though you had no way to tell the time of day from your windowless cell. You turned over on your cot, sitting up with effort, feeling clumsy and huge. Your fingers closed around a shard of tile you had kept hidden, sharpening it to a killing edge these last several days. With the other hand, you gathered what dignity you could, adjusting your ridiculous nightgown over your fat breasts, but your broad, dark nipples showed through the gauzy fabric nevertheless.
“How’s my little rogue today?” Her voice dripped poison. “Sleepy, are we? How have your escape attempts been going, dear thing?” She moved closer, standing over your cot, looming. She was conventionally beautiful, pleasantly curvaceous, hourglassish. You felt your eyes lingering. Perhaps it was jealously. When you first infiltrated her keep, your trim frame would have made her look plush and voluptuous by comparison. Now, even towering over you, letting the hallway torch drape her shadow over you on your cot, your heart panged at her tiny slimness.
“… No answer? No witty comebacks this time? You’re absolutely no fun.” She grasped your chin, turning your face to look up at hears, framed perfectly by her fashionably proportioned breasts and tasteful cleavage. You were again conscious of the weight of your bloated tits, and you felt your face flush in shame. “Stand up,” she commanded, “I want to have a look at you.” Slowly, cautiously, you heaved yourself to your feet.
Slowly, she walked a circle around you, letting you wait, letting you feel her hard gaze exploring your new roundness, your new weight. “I see you’ve been enjoying the finest my kitchens can offer,” she ventured, but you refused to take the bait. You adjusted your hold on the sharpened tile concealed in your hand, waiting for your opportunity, when she spoke abruptly: “You won’t.”
You felt a flush of heat, deep inside you, felt your plump thighs tremble with urgent need. “My silly little rogue… Do you have any idea how loud your thoughts are? But you’d never actually mar such an exquisite body as mine. You’re literally incapable.” You felt your fingers slacken, dropping your makeshift weapon to the floor, heard the tinkle of shattering ceramic. “Besides….” Here she moved in behind you with predatory swiftness, pressing against your back. One hand reached around you, lifting your right breast off of its resting place atop your gravidness, while her soft breath whispered hot into your ear. “… If you’re going to be uncooperative… I can always make you even bigger. Is that what you want?”
No, you stammered. Please, no. Not any bigger.
The little wisp of violet fog she exhaled by your left ear sank in the cold air, rolling down your collarbone. Time slowed to a crawl as you stood, stock-still, watching that evil curl of smoke drift down the slope of your chest, down over your fat breast, playfully descending the ripe dome of your belly until it was out of sight. Was it going to enter you, this time? It was such a tiny wisp; how much bigger would it make you?
You shook in terrible anticipation for a small eternity.
Gradually you realized you weren’t growing.
Gradually you became aware of the soft scrape of her exquisite fingernails on your swollen breast.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, sagging back into the sorceress’s embrace. Her body felt perfectly soft against your back. Welcoming. You realized your magically-induced lust was not diminishing. Quite the contrary.
“You poor creature,” she mocked, now reaching both hands around your enormous belly. Her fingertips didn’t touch. You were stuck with the sudden thought that the garments she provided were much too big for you, even in your current state.
“My little rogue, you look so uncomfortable!” You felt her breath, hot against the back of your next, and you could help but squirm in her embrace, pressing your enormous ass into her as her hands crept lower toward your needy sex. More and more of the violet smoke wreathed you both, teasing and threatening.
“Pray let me help you relax, little rogue, and when you’re sated, you shall tell me how long you’ve been a spy for the marquis….”
