Snorri Sturluson
Keeper of Hugin and Munin
~BBW, Magic, ~XWG - A winsome lass discovers her hearts desire
Sara Saab was a girl, a little thin for her age, who was in search of something. In a world where there are answers to questions yet unasked, her seeking proved particularly fruitless, as she knew not what it was she sought.
From the age of fifteen she took walks alone, ranging across the village of Linkoping from the city dump on the eastern most road out of town, to Parkland Heights in the west. Every day she explored a little more; an abandoned house one day, a new trash pile the next (she found a nice bike that way once), the stores downtown, the community parks, and, in general, everything.
Linkoping was a perfect town for such wanderings, as it was a city whose number of trees out distanced its population by a matter of factors.
It was when these walks began, when she was fifteen, that Sara's sister, Besk, had left the house and joined the military. It was the result of a desire from infanthood, on her sisters part, and before leaving she told Sara to seek her own desire and pursue it. So she did, seeking to discover her desire until knowing her desire became a desire in itself.
Her parents had left for a vacation in Hawaii, to celebrate their anniversary, and left their remaining daughter home alone. On the day they left, Sara took yet another walk, this time strolling past stores downtown, many of which had been closed since before she could remember, or cared to remember, when.
Curiously, along that line of boarded up buildings that had prospered in a past that dusted the imagination there was a single door open, one set of windows cleared of the aged and rotting wood that obscured them. Devices of unimaginable purpose were put on display, above which a sign was set in unnerving font. With letters not quite shaped properly, it read "Answer Shop."
Wondering what such a place might be about, Sara stepped inside, assuming that if the door was open then so was the business. Like the display, the innards of the place seemed not quite right. Shelves filled the floor space, towering over her head, and each seemed to tip as she passed, threatening to fall upon her. Though she hadn't noticed at once, when she entered she began to feel as though someone were whispering to her, just out of ear shot.
Nothing seemed right; indeed, even the shadows did not match the shape of the objects that cast them. Sara turned to leave, but behind her in the maze of shelves stood a little girl, no older than three by the looks of her, yet likewise slightly off. Looking down at her, Sara noticed that she had neither whites nor pupils in her eyes; all was black.
"'scuse me." Sara muttered as she tried to step past, but the child caught her leg and held her fast.
Speaking in a voice more befitting aged women with one foot and a toe in the grave, the girl asked, "What answers do you seek, young one?"
"I'm sorry? Are your parents the owners?"
"In a manner of speaking. Please, tell me young one, what answers do you seek?"
"Nothing, really, I was just curious as to what had moved in here. The place has been vacant for quite some time." Slightly creeped out by the kid, Sara added, "But I should be going."
As if with lungs decayed, the child laughed and pulled her along the rows of shelves. "Nothing? Oh deary, you know better than that, and it is far harder to fool me than it is to fool yourself."
She would have struggled against the girl's grip, which had now moved to her arm, but found her far stronger than even her father's firm guide. All thoughts of this were dissipated when she realized that the store's interior was far too large for its exterior. They had walked far enough down the rows of shelves to have come out the back of the store, but still it stretched before them.
At one point Sara saw an old woman and an immensely fat woman walking down other rows, but she was forced on before she could figure out why that woman looked familiar. Though not sure, Sara could have sworn that she could make out the curvature of the earth down the rows, but she was forced onward before she could be sure.
Without a signal, the girl stopped before a shelf that seemed just like any of the others. In a twist of dimensions, she reached to the top shelve, where Sara could have hardly reached even with her greater height; yet when the little two year old reached up, it looked perfectly the right size, and only offended Sara's sense of proportion when taken in context. From the top the girl pulled down a rather large frame.
"So you do not know what you desire?" Well off her guard, Sara nodded in response.
"And you desire to know your heart's desire?" Again Sara nodded.
The little girl reached up, again distorting Sara's sense of proportion, and placed the frame over her. Bending down, the girl encircled Sara with the frame and brought it to the ground. She signaled for Sara to step away, and she did. There, where she had been standing, was now a painting in the frame. Twisting her next to see the subject of the painting, Sara realized it was herself standing in the store.
With the breath of a mausoleum, the girl explained, "You will know and become your heart's desire as often as you look upon this. She thrust the object into Saras hand and pointed behind her, There is the door.
True enough, when she turned around Sara saw that the door was there, closer than when she had first seen the girl, despite the fact that they had walked too far into the store for it to be so close. More than a little perturbed by the series of events, Sara hurried out and down the street.
At the corner she turned around to look back. The girl was outside the shop, watching her. Even from that distance, her black eyes were clearly visible. Glancing down at the picture in her hands, Sara saw herself standing on a street corner. There was something odd about the picture, as if her painted self wasnt quite right, but the honking of a car horn distracted her before she could figure out what.
Forgoing the rest of her walk, Sara headed home. Heedless of the experience she had just gone through, she was excited about the possibility provided by the picture. She would have stopped there to look at it closely and find out what her desire was, but found public to have too many prying eyes. As she passed groups of people Sara continuously thought that she saw that creepy little girl among them, but every second look proved her thoughts false.
When she got to her front door she realized her pants were extremely tight. She couldnt even reach into her pocket to get her keys with one hand; she had to hold the pocket open with her right hand and reach in with her left. As she let go the pocket slapped back in place and seemed to cut into her thigh. Stumbling inside, feeling faint of breath, she sat down in the kitchen. The button on her kaki pants popped off, hitting the table harmlessly. Bewildered, she ran into the bathroom to look at herself in the full length mirror.
Gasping at the definitely chubby woman that looked back at her, Sara tried to hop on the scale. In her excitement she fell off and cracked it. Running to her parents bathroom, she more carefully stepped onto theirs. Last she had checked she weighed a perfectly agreeable 110. When the dial finished spinning, it rested on 125. Unbelieving what she saw, Sara got off and made sure it was zeroed. Attempting again, the same results came up, yet as she stood their, staring at the numbers, the needle slowly crept up to 126.
It must be my imagination, she said to herself, but didnt find it very convincing.
Still, imagination or not she couldnt stay in those pants. The slow metallic rip of the zipper being pushed down by her imagination was irritating. Stripping off her clothes before looking for a new outfit, she glanced at herself in the mirror again. Her long legs that used to be so toned from daily walks were utterly smooth, with no hint of muscle definition. Her panties still fit but were clearly stretched and pushed down a little by the beginnings of a belly (and love handles, but that was more imagination than Sara was willing to consider at the moment). Her breasts might have been bigger; at least they filled her bra now, whereas before they were a tad small in that regard. Her jaw line was still there, to her relief, though the distinction was not so bold as she recalled.
Pulling herself away from the mirror, Sara went to her room for clothes. Opening her wardrobe she pulled out a nice pair of twill pants. They couldnt be buttoned. Tossing them aside, she reached for a pair of jeans. They wouldnt quite come over her buttocks; they too were tossed aside. Skirt after pants after jeans didnt fit; none could fit around her waist. Her shirts were barely better, they all felt like they were choking her and cutting off circulation to her arms, and all were far too form-fitting that she preferred. Leaving the mess on her floor, she went to her parents bedroom. They wouldnt be back for a month and surely wouldnt miss a few borrowed clothes.
Burrowing in their drawers, Sara pulled out one of her mothers workout outfits. Since her mother wasnt particularly thin in her own right, the green sweets fit rather comfortably, if not flatteringly. Looking to the bathroom, Sara tried the scale again. 127. Unsure of what to do, she decided to put it out of her mind and see if she was still imagining things tomorrow.
Turning on the TV in her parents room, she found a favorite movie (Howls Movie Castle). Having never seen it often enough, she immediately forgot about her situation. Within fifteen minutes, during a commercial, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a gallon of ice cream. The painting was set, forgotten, on the table in the entry way. If Sara had looked, she would have seen herself lying on her parents bed, wearing green sweats. As it was, she went back to her movie, ate the entire carton of ice cream, and fell asleep.
***
In the morning Sara recalled her weight gain the other day and tested the scale again. It read 135, a full 25 heavier than the day before. Yet even as she looked at the numbers she wondered if it hadnt been a vision in the night. Hadnt she always been 135? She tried to think of a specific memory that would set her weight at one or the other, but found any such memory to be hazy, like she was awakening from a dream.
No, surely she had always weighed 135 (but why did her clothes not fit, a voice in her head asked). Returning to the mess in her room well her clothes didnt fit because that was the way things were, and has always been, as far as she was sure. It made sense, and it didnt make sense, depending on how long she stood there thinking about it.
Forgoing that room, Sara headed towards the kitchen. There, in the entryway, was the painting from the other day. Picking it up, she saw herself sitting at the kitchen table, in the same green sweets, eating a surprisingly large breakfast. Before her eyes the painting changed. The setting was the same, but she seemed to be bigger (even bigger than she was this morning).
In part, she found herself wanting to throw the painting away, in part she was worried she was going mad, yet by far the strongest part was intrigued at the concept of being a little larger. True, nothing of hers fit, but it didnt seem so bad.
Her stomach growling distracted her and she soon forgot about the painting all over again. The kitchen called to her and she answered with force. Within minutes delicious smells began to waft from the stove, oven, and microwave. The impressive meal that she had seen in the painting (yet now only remembered as what she wanted for breakfast) took shape on the table. Sitting down, spoonfuls of cereal and forkfuls of sausage found their way into her mouth and stomach. The hour had barely passed before the impressive meal was gone into her and Sara realized the sweets were uncomfortably tight.
"That's silly," she thought to herself, but there on the table sat the plates of her leftover breakfast feast; even with nothing but the leftover utensils and place settings, Sara realized that she had someone - her? - had eaten enough for four. Looking down, her belly did seem unusually large (though somewhere in her mind she realized that yesterday morning she didn't have a belly at all). Struggling to her feet, unused to the new weight her frame was carrying, she headed back to her parent's bathroom. Once more on the scale, it spun to 150. She faintly recalled weighing only 110 not too long ago.
Looking back down, the needle now pointed at 151 and seemed to be heading towards 152. Jumping off the scale and backing away from it, as if it were haunted, Sara decided that obviously she needed to get out. Peeling off her father's sweat suit, she rummaged around in her mother's drawer.
Everything was too large (but would it stay that way, she wondered), so she finally gave up and went to the attic where her mother stored her old clothes, just incase she could ever fit into them again. Finding a full length dress in a simple ivory with scroll-work embroidery, she put it on and found it too large but manageable. Tying a sash around her waist, she found it rather curious that it slid down below her belly; that had never happened with any clothing she had had before.
Going back downstairs she weighed herself again. 160, perfectly even. Grabbing the rest of her things, she headed towards the door. There was the portrait again; fearing what would happen if she picked it up, she forced herself to look. There she was, sitting on a bench somewhere, at her current size, and as before she watched as Sara in the painting grew. It was hard to focus on her painted avatar as her attention kept wandering. Was this painting responsible for her weight gain, as preposterous as that seemed? If so, would she soon be even larger?
To her mild amazement, she found the concept utterly non-offensive. She knew she should be scared, frightened, and possibly terrified. In truth, however, the idea seemed rather exciting. Her mother wasn't thin and she looked beautiful. Her sister, Besk, had apparently gained weight after leaving the military, or so she had heard, and Sara did desire to emulate her. As she looked at the painting it seemed like the truth was slowly being resolved in her mind.
Placing the portrait in her room to deal with later, she went out the door and headed to the local mall. Something rather strange happened on the way; Sara became tired. It was only around five blocks away which had never caused her to so much as breath heavily before, but after three she had to sit down at a bus stop. Surprisingly, it was rather nice. There was certainly something to be said for resting after exerting one's self and tiring one's self out; she had never really been all that tired before.
Enjoying the feeling, Sara sat there, whittling away the hours, watching people pass by. More than once she had to loosen the sash on the dress until at last it was too short to fit around her and still make a knot. Finding that she now desired something to eat, Sara left the sash behind and huffed her way to the mall.
Upon returning that evening, tossed the bags of clothing that she got at the mall onto the couch and got on the scale. True to her suspicions, she had gained again and teetered on the edge of the one hundreds; the scale (rather happily, Sara thought) read 185. She found herself tempted right then and there to run and look at the painting again. That device seemed to be the key that unlocked her weight; another look and she could welcome the 200's with open (and flabby) arms. But she wasn't sure; determined to know one way or the other, she didn't even approach her bedroom, where the painting sat unhung, and instead tried to fall asleep and wait till morning.
Finding it impossible, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a cartoon of ice-cream. Sitting down in front of the TV, she turned on and flipped till she found some old Dr Who episodes that were airing. When the first was over (The Curse of Peladon), Sara set the empty cartoon next to the chair and fetched another. With it nestled between her arms, she dozed off while watching a second episode.
***
Rising with the sun, Sara groggily made her way to the scale once more to find her weight the same. Resolving not to touch food until she knew what was causing her weight gain, she went to her room. Picking up the frame off of her bed, she looked directly at it. She saw herself standing on the bathroom scale and as before, though she first seemed to be the size that the real Sara was, the image version expanded.
Putting the picture down before pondering the thoughts that crept into her mind, she found the idea of standing on a scale as the weight came on to be a good idea. It would prove, in her mind, that though she didn't know how it was happening, the picture was causing her to gain weight (passingly, she wondered how that had anything to do with what the girl had said, that it would reveal her heart's desire).
By the time she got to the bathroom the scale already read 186. She stood there for two hours (and found that doing so tired her out) and by the end the needle pointed firmly to 210. All the while she could feel and see the dress that she was wearing (the same one from the other day) fill up, until by the end it acted like a second skin. Sara waited another 15 minutes before finally stepping down.
The woman that looked back at her from the mirror was nigh unrecognizable. Personally, Sara truly liked what she saw. Gone were her collarbone that had always stuck out so prominently, gone were her sharp cheek bones that had given her face an undesired harsh look, gone was the well defined jaw line that looked more manish than she liked.
In their place were temptingly soft cheeks, a heart-shaped curve to her face, and a kissibly smooth neck. Indeed, just a few days ago she had thought her long neck was gangly and unbecoming, but now that the muscles, veins, and bones were messing up its curve she found it rather graceful. Happily, she ran a gentle touch down along her neck and over she shoulders, which too had smoothed out, and over her terribly soft arms.
"These," Sara said aloud, "are some dangerous curves."
Turning she took a glance at her butt, which she actually had now, and found that it flowed into her thicker thighs rather nicely, like dew around an apple. Her belly, which by now was rather noticeable, wasn't quite so large as to distract from her burgeoning breasts, which had outgrown her bras and now found support in the immense pressure they put on the dress.
"One hundred pounds with just four glances," she commented to herself.
Not quite knowing what to do with her day, she caught sight of the strained seems on the dress she was wearing. Though it was a shame to ruin such a lovely garment, the possibility was too tempting. Hurrying to the painting, she glanced upon it again. Her avatar was curiously lying on the floor, looking towards the phone, and plumped up even more.
"Hmm, that's an idea." Setting the picture down, ensuring it was safe; Sara went straight to the phone, giggling to herself along the way at the fact that she was developing a very slight waddle. Her thighs weren't so thick that she couldn't fit one around the other, but it was within sight. Once to the phone, she called up some of her closest friends and invited them over. As of yet no one she knew had seen her at her new size (or any of her older "new sizes"). This, she decided, would be fun. However, no one could make it before that afternoon.
Hardly daunted, Sara went to watch herself in a mirror. Two hours later she seriously regretted trying to burst out of the dress. A 235 lb body was far too much to shove into the dress, yet apparently clothing was stronger than she thought. Though the dress had been full length, it now only reached slightly past her knees, as it had been pulled up by her overly expanded body. The dress constricted her breathing and bound her legs too tightly to let her walk.
She tried taking it off, but couldn't bend one way or another, nor could she move her arms very far. Sara tried to hop out of the bathroom but merely fell down on the carpet. There beside her was the painting, despite the fact that she had set it carefully in her bedroom. If only she could have gotten to the phone or something, but being effectively bound, she decided her only hope was to finish what she started. Nudging the painting with her nose so that she could look at it, Sara saw herself greeting her friends at the door wearing naught but her unmentionables.
Sara wasn't sure what pain was caused by her old growth and what pain was caused by the new fat being added to her, but she was in utter agony as she swelled up. The sleeves cut so deeply into her upper arm that her fat flowed back over it, hiding the offending edge from sight. With nowhere else to go, her breasts began to squeeze up and through the v neckline, despite the fact that it wasn't low-cut in the least. Her toes seemed to be tingling from a reduced blood flow, and she began to worry about suffocating.
Unaware of how long she was on the ground, groaning in agony, the doorbell surprised her enough to make her jump. That force was enough and the dress ripped at a seem right along her armpit. Struggling, she expanded it enough to allow her arms free movement. Grabbing at the tear, Sara pulled. A rather satisfying series of rips followed as the stitching tore right out of the fabric. Once firmly started, her fat finished the job, cascading out of the restricting raiment in waves. The doorbell rang again and Sara tore the remaining shreds off of herself. Hurriedly she pulled out the first thing she could find in her mother's drawer (a bra and panties), she walked to the door, being far too out of breath (and out of shape) to run.
Not all of her friends stood at the door, in fact there were only two: Lansen Gripen and Viggen Draken. It seemed appropriate that Lan, her best male friend, would see her like this, and that Vi, her best female friend, would be there to support her.
"Uh... we're sorry... we are looking for Sara Saab?" Lan stuttered.
"Lan, Vi, its me! Sara! I've just gained a little weight." She ushered them inside.
"Sara? Well, yeah. A little weight, I guess."
"Oh come off it Lan. Sara, what happened? We saw you just a few days ago, how the heck did this happen?" Vi asked. Sara obliged with an explanation, though she insisted that they follow her to her parent's bedroom, where she could finally fit into her mother's current wardrobe, more or less. Everything, including the D-cup bras, were too large, which was exactly what she wanted after bursting out of that dress. She opted for some nice sweet shorts and a large, billowy shirt that her mother used for gardening.
"That picture is supposed to make you gain weight every time you look at it?" Lan asked, after Sara had finished.
Being sure not to look at it, Sara nodded. "That is what the girl said. Every time I look at it I know and become my heart's greatest desire."
"And your heart's greatest desire is to become fat?" Vi asked.
"Apparently. I didn't realize it, but," Sara cuddled herself, paying particular attention to her greatly increased belly, "I do kind of like it.
Walking over to the picture, Lan asked how much she weighed now. Unsure, though with a good expectation, she got on the scale. Verily, after shoving her breasts and belly out of the way, Sara could see that it read 260, which she called out to her friends.
Picking up the picture, Lan asked another question, "Can you show us?"
Sara shook her head, "I've already gained 75 lb in a single day." Feeling odd when she shook her head, Sara looked in a mirror to see that her heart-shaped face had now added a second chin that jiggled separately.
Vi went over and looked as well. "Aw come on, you'll just be granting your heart's desire, right?"
The mirror decided for Sara. She saw herself, with breasts drooping despite the bra, with love handles that merely flowed into a shelf-like behind, a rather large behind at that, and hips large enough to utterly confound her sense of personal space. "Alright."
Lifting herself off of the bed where she had been sitting, a feat that required far more effort than she was used to, Sara made her way over to her friends. They parted and allowed her to glance at the picture again. Curiously, she was reclining in the living room with empty food containers in the background. As she expected, her avatar began to grow, yet it seemed to take longer this time and by the end she looked so much bigger than expected. Perhaps, she thought to herself, at her size twenty five pounds looked like a lot more.
"See, the picture changes too. I was answering the door last time I saw, now I am reclining in the living room... watching TV I guess."
"Why am I in the picture?" Vi asked.
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am feeding you or something."
Sara looked again but didn't see her friend there. "What do you see Lan?"
"Wha? Um... nothing." He avoided eye contact.
Sara could already feel her clothes shift has the weight began to find its way onto her frame. Turning too abruptly, her belly swung around and put her off balance, causing her to fall into Lan. It took a second for her to regain her composure, all the while her plush body was pressed firmly against Lan's.
Standing up, she asked again "Nah, common. What did you see?"
Shuffling his feet a bit, he replied, "Same as Vi, but I only see you and me, not her." Sara had the feeling he wasn't being terribly honest, but decided to let the matter drop.
"I wonder why I can't see you guys and you can see each other."
Vi was the one who figured it out. "The painting must show the viewer's desire concerning you. You want to gain weight, so that is what you see. I've always thought you'd look good fat and wanted to feed you, so that is what I see. And Lan..."
He coughed to interrupt her. "Yes, well... um... so what now?"
"Well, do you want to feed me?"
It was an odd question, to be sure, and neither Vi nor Lan had ever had anything similar asked of them. It was the obvious course of action after the painting's revelation, but still...
"Why would you want us to do that?"
"I haven't eaten today yet, so I'm hungry. And obviously if you feed me you'll be fulfilling your own desires. Besides, whatever the painting shows, happens. You guys will somehow end up feeding me, so why not make things orderly?"
Shrugging, both Vi and Lan uneasily headed towards the living room. They were both on their cell phones in a moment, one ordering pizza, the other ordered southern cooking from "All y'all's Al's" eatery.
Sara pulled at her clothes warily and decided to be safe. Trekking up to the attic, she found a muumuu from when her mother was at her largest. It looked like someone had dropped a bolt of cloth on her, but it was loose, comfortable, and not in much chance of strangling her alive. Finding the effort of climbing the stairs and searching through clothes to be exhausting, she didn't come down until Lan called out that the food would be there shortly. Breathing heavily, Sara plodded down the stairs, all of which creaked more than she remembered, and decided to stop by the scale. It already read 287.
Sara almost got off the scale before she realized what she had read. That was 2 lb over what she should have weighed after that last glance. Her image didn't just look big with another 25 on her, she actually gained more. But, Sara realized, that was because three people perceived the truth, and so she would become the truth three times over.
Waddling as fast as she could to the front room, the doorbell range and Sara automatically opened it. There stood the pizza boy with what must have been a good eight pizzas, all extra large. The sight and smell captured Sara's full attention, while her huge form captured the pizza boy's. Lan came up behind Sara, glared at the guy as Sara grabbed the pizzas with a passion, and paid him.
In a flash Sara was in the chair and both Lan and Vi started feeding her. When night fell the pizzas and other food were nearly gone. Sara couldn't believe that she had eaten so much. Her belly swelled out in front of her, touching her thighs, and utterly blocking the TV as she reclined.
Both her friends needed to be going, as it was rather late, but they made sure Sara would be alright. Other than finding that she couldn't get up from being over full, she assured them that everything would be fine. Lan in particular left with reluctance.
Resting for several minutes, Sara tried to get up again. Opening her eyes, she saw that on the far wall, above the TV, was the painting, hanging (though she was sure it had been left in the bedroom). She knew the damage was done before she even had the thought to look away. She must have been at 335 after the triple dose she got with Lan and Vi (they were surprised to find that such a large gain wasn't normal), minus any weight from the pizza, and now she'd be even larger by the end of the day.
Trying desperately to get up, Sara found that the recliner seemed to be stuck in its position, and with her full belly there was no way she could get out of it. Resigning herself to an uncomfortable night, Sara tried to make the best out of it and get some sleep.
Every Glance You Take
By Snorri Sturluson
(A tale inspired by "Larger Every Day")
By Snorri Sturluson
(A tale inspired by "Larger Every Day")
Sara Saab was a girl, a little thin for her age, who was in search of something. In a world where there are answers to questions yet unasked, her seeking proved particularly fruitless, as she knew not what it was she sought.
From the age of fifteen she took walks alone, ranging across the village of Linkoping from the city dump on the eastern most road out of town, to Parkland Heights in the west. Every day she explored a little more; an abandoned house one day, a new trash pile the next (she found a nice bike that way once), the stores downtown, the community parks, and, in general, everything.
Linkoping was a perfect town for such wanderings, as it was a city whose number of trees out distanced its population by a matter of factors.
It was when these walks began, when she was fifteen, that Sara's sister, Besk, had left the house and joined the military. It was the result of a desire from infanthood, on her sisters part, and before leaving she told Sara to seek her own desire and pursue it. So she did, seeking to discover her desire until knowing her desire became a desire in itself.
Her parents had left for a vacation in Hawaii, to celebrate their anniversary, and left their remaining daughter home alone. On the day they left, Sara took yet another walk, this time strolling past stores downtown, many of which had been closed since before she could remember, or cared to remember, when.
Curiously, along that line of boarded up buildings that had prospered in a past that dusted the imagination there was a single door open, one set of windows cleared of the aged and rotting wood that obscured them. Devices of unimaginable purpose were put on display, above which a sign was set in unnerving font. With letters not quite shaped properly, it read "Answer Shop."
Wondering what such a place might be about, Sara stepped inside, assuming that if the door was open then so was the business. Like the display, the innards of the place seemed not quite right. Shelves filled the floor space, towering over her head, and each seemed to tip as she passed, threatening to fall upon her. Though she hadn't noticed at once, when she entered she began to feel as though someone were whispering to her, just out of ear shot.
Nothing seemed right; indeed, even the shadows did not match the shape of the objects that cast them. Sara turned to leave, but behind her in the maze of shelves stood a little girl, no older than three by the looks of her, yet likewise slightly off. Looking down at her, Sara noticed that she had neither whites nor pupils in her eyes; all was black.
"'scuse me." Sara muttered as she tried to step past, but the child caught her leg and held her fast.
Speaking in a voice more befitting aged women with one foot and a toe in the grave, the girl asked, "What answers do you seek, young one?"
"I'm sorry? Are your parents the owners?"
"In a manner of speaking. Please, tell me young one, what answers do you seek?"
"Nothing, really, I was just curious as to what had moved in here. The place has been vacant for quite some time." Slightly creeped out by the kid, Sara added, "But I should be going."
As if with lungs decayed, the child laughed and pulled her along the rows of shelves. "Nothing? Oh deary, you know better than that, and it is far harder to fool me than it is to fool yourself."
She would have struggled against the girl's grip, which had now moved to her arm, but found her far stronger than even her father's firm guide. All thoughts of this were dissipated when she realized that the store's interior was far too large for its exterior. They had walked far enough down the rows of shelves to have come out the back of the store, but still it stretched before them.
At one point Sara saw an old woman and an immensely fat woman walking down other rows, but she was forced on before she could figure out why that woman looked familiar. Though not sure, Sara could have sworn that she could make out the curvature of the earth down the rows, but she was forced onward before she could be sure.
Without a signal, the girl stopped before a shelf that seemed just like any of the others. In a twist of dimensions, she reached to the top shelve, where Sara could have hardly reached even with her greater height; yet when the little two year old reached up, it looked perfectly the right size, and only offended Sara's sense of proportion when taken in context. From the top the girl pulled down a rather large frame.
"So you do not know what you desire?" Well off her guard, Sara nodded in response.
"And you desire to know your heart's desire?" Again Sara nodded.
The little girl reached up, again distorting Sara's sense of proportion, and placed the frame over her. Bending down, the girl encircled Sara with the frame and brought it to the ground. She signaled for Sara to step away, and she did. There, where she had been standing, was now a painting in the frame. Twisting her next to see the subject of the painting, Sara realized it was herself standing in the store.
With the breath of a mausoleum, the girl explained, "You will know and become your heart's desire as often as you look upon this. She thrust the object into Saras hand and pointed behind her, There is the door.
True enough, when she turned around Sara saw that the door was there, closer than when she had first seen the girl, despite the fact that they had walked too far into the store for it to be so close. More than a little perturbed by the series of events, Sara hurried out and down the street.
At the corner she turned around to look back. The girl was outside the shop, watching her. Even from that distance, her black eyes were clearly visible. Glancing down at the picture in her hands, Sara saw herself standing on a street corner. There was something odd about the picture, as if her painted self wasnt quite right, but the honking of a car horn distracted her before she could figure out what.
Forgoing the rest of her walk, Sara headed home. Heedless of the experience she had just gone through, she was excited about the possibility provided by the picture. She would have stopped there to look at it closely and find out what her desire was, but found public to have too many prying eyes. As she passed groups of people Sara continuously thought that she saw that creepy little girl among them, but every second look proved her thoughts false.
When she got to her front door she realized her pants were extremely tight. She couldnt even reach into her pocket to get her keys with one hand; she had to hold the pocket open with her right hand and reach in with her left. As she let go the pocket slapped back in place and seemed to cut into her thigh. Stumbling inside, feeling faint of breath, she sat down in the kitchen. The button on her kaki pants popped off, hitting the table harmlessly. Bewildered, she ran into the bathroom to look at herself in the full length mirror.
Gasping at the definitely chubby woman that looked back at her, Sara tried to hop on the scale. In her excitement she fell off and cracked it. Running to her parents bathroom, she more carefully stepped onto theirs. Last she had checked she weighed a perfectly agreeable 110. When the dial finished spinning, it rested on 125. Unbelieving what she saw, Sara got off and made sure it was zeroed. Attempting again, the same results came up, yet as she stood their, staring at the numbers, the needle slowly crept up to 126.
It must be my imagination, she said to herself, but didnt find it very convincing.
Still, imagination or not she couldnt stay in those pants. The slow metallic rip of the zipper being pushed down by her imagination was irritating. Stripping off her clothes before looking for a new outfit, she glanced at herself in the mirror again. Her long legs that used to be so toned from daily walks were utterly smooth, with no hint of muscle definition. Her panties still fit but were clearly stretched and pushed down a little by the beginnings of a belly (and love handles, but that was more imagination than Sara was willing to consider at the moment). Her breasts might have been bigger; at least they filled her bra now, whereas before they were a tad small in that regard. Her jaw line was still there, to her relief, though the distinction was not so bold as she recalled.
Pulling herself away from the mirror, Sara went to her room for clothes. Opening her wardrobe she pulled out a nice pair of twill pants. They couldnt be buttoned. Tossing them aside, she reached for a pair of jeans. They wouldnt quite come over her buttocks; they too were tossed aside. Skirt after pants after jeans didnt fit; none could fit around her waist. Her shirts were barely better, they all felt like they were choking her and cutting off circulation to her arms, and all were far too form-fitting that she preferred. Leaving the mess on her floor, she went to her parents bedroom. They wouldnt be back for a month and surely wouldnt miss a few borrowed clothes.
Burrowing in their drawers, Sara pulled out one of her mothers workout outfits. Since her mother wasnt particularly thin in her own right, the green sweets fit rather comfortably, if not flatteringly. Looking to the bathroom, Sara tried the scale again. 127. Unsure of what to do, she decided to put it out of her mind and see if she was still imagining things tomorrow.
Turning on the TV in her parents room, she found a favorite movie (Howls Movie Castle). Having never seen it often enough, she immediately forgot about her situation. Within fifteen minutes, during a commercial, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a gallon of ice cream. The painting was set, forgotten, on the table in the entry way. If Sara had looked, she would have seen herself lying on her parents bed, wearing green sweats. As it was, she went back to her movie, ate the entire carton of ice cream, and fell asleep.
***
In the morning Sara recalled her weight gain the other day and tested the scale again. It read 135, a full 25 heavier than the day before. Yet even as she looked at the numbers she wondered if it hadnt been a vision in the night. Hadnt she always been 135? She tried to think of a specific memory that would set her weight at one or the other, but found any such memory to be hazy, like she was awakening from a dream.
No, surely she had always weighed 135 (but why did her clothes not fit, a voice in her head asked). Returning to the mess in her room well her clothes didnt fit because that was the way things were, and has always been, as far as she was sure. It made sense, and it didnt make sense, depending on how long she stood there thinking about it.
Forgoing that room, Sara headed towards the kitchen. There, in the entryway, was the painting from the other day. Picking it up, she saw herself sitting at the kitchen table, in the same green sweets, eating a surprisingly large breakfast. Before her eyes the painting changed. The setting was the same, but she seemed to be bigger (even bigger than she was this morning).
In part, she found herself wanting to throw the painting away, in part she was worried she was going mad, yet by far the strongest part was intrigued at the concept of being a little larger. True, nothing of hers fit, but it didnt seem so bad.
Her stomach growling distracted her and she soon forgot about the painting all over again. The kitchen called to her and she answered with force. Within minutes delicious smells began to waft from the stove, oven, and microwave. The impressive meal that she had seen in the painting (yet now only remembered as what she wanted for breakfast) took shape on the table. Sitting down, spoonfuls of cereal and forkfuls of sausage found their way into her mouth and stomach. The hour had barely passed before the impressive meal was gone into her and Sara realized the sweets were uncomfortably tight.
"That's silly," she thought to herself, but there on the table sat the plates of her leftover breakfast feast; even with nothing but the leftover utensils and place settings, Sara realized that she had someone - her? - had eaten enough for four. Looking down, her belly did seem unusually large (though somewhere in her mind she realized that yesterday morning she didn't have a belly at all). Struggling to her feet, unused to the new weight her frame was carrying, she headed back to her parent's bathroom. Once more on the scale, it spun to 150. She faintly recalled weighing only 110 not too long ago.
Looking back down, the needle now pointed at 151 and seemed to be heading towards 152. Jumping off the scale and backing away from it, as if it were haunted, Sara decided that obviously she needed to get out. Peeling off her father's sweat suit, she rummaged around in her mother's drawer.
Everything was too large (but would it stay that way, she wondered), so she finally gave up and went to the attic where her mother stored her old clothes, just incase she could ever fit into them again. Finding a full length dress in a simple ivory with scroll-work embroidery, she put it on and found it too large but manageable. Tying a sash around her waist, she found it rather curious that it slid down below her belly; that had never happened with any clothing she had had before.
Going back downstairs she weighed herself again. 160, perfectly even. Grabbing the rest of her things, she headed towards the door. There was the portrait again; fearing what would happen if she picked it up, she forced herself to look. There she was, sitting on a bench somewhere, at her current size, and as before she watched as Sara in the painting grew. It was hard to focus on her painted avatar as her attention kept wandering. Was this painting responsible for her weight gain, as preposterous as that seemed? If so, would she soon be even larger?
To her mild amazement, she found the concept utterly non-offensive. She knew she should be scared, frightened, and possibly terrified. In truth, however, the idea seemed rather exciting. Her mother wasn't thin and she looked beautiful. Her sister, Besk, had apparently gained weight after leaving the military, or so she had heard, and Sara did desire to emulate her. As she looked at the painting it seemed like the truth was slowly being resolved in her mind.
Placing the portrait in her room to deal with later, she went out the door and headed to the local mall. Something rather strange happened on the way; Sara became tired. It was only around five blocks away which had never caused her to so much as breath heavily before, but after three she had to sit down at a bus stop. Surprisingly, it was rather nice. There was certainly something to be said for resting after exerting one's self and tiring one's self out; she had never really been all that tired before.
Enjoying the feeling, Sara sat there, whittling away the hours, watching people pass by. More than once she had to loosen the sash on the dress until at last it was too short to fit around her and still make a knot. Finding that she now desired something to eat, Sara left the sash behind and huffed her way to the mall.
Upon returning that evening, tossed the bags of clothing that she got at the mall onto the couch and got on the scale. True to her suspicions, she had gained again and teetered on the edge of the one hundreds; the scale (rather happily, Sara thought) read 185. She found herself tempted right then and there to run and look at the painting again. That device seemed to be the key that unlocked her weight; another look and she could welcome the 200's with open (and flabby) arms. But she wasn't sure; determined to know one way or the other, she didn't even approach her bedroom, where the painting sat unhung, and instead tried to fall asleep and wait till morning.
Finding it impossible, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a cartoon of ice-cream. Sitting down in front of the TV, she turned on and flipped till she found some old Dr Who episodes that were airing. When the first was over (The Curse of Peladon), Sara set the empty cartoon next to the chair and fetched another. With it nestled between her arms, she dozed off while watching a second episode.
***
Rising with the sun, Sara groggily made her way to the scale once more to find her weight the same. Resolving not to touch food until she knew what was causing her weight gain, she went to her room. Picking up the frame off of her bed, she looked directly at it. She saw herself standing on the bathroom scale and as before, though she first seemed to be the size that the real Sara was, the image version expanded.
Putting the picture down before pondering the thoughts that crept into her mind, she found the idea of standing on a scale as the weight came on to be a good idea. It would prove, in her mind, that though she didn't know how it was happening, the picture was causing her to gain weight (passingly, she wondered how that had anything to do with what the girl had said, that it would reveal her heart's desire).
By the time she got to the bathroom the scale already read 186. She stood there for two hours (and found that doing so tired her out) and by the end the needle pointed firmly to 210. All the while she could feel and see the dress that she was wearing (the same one from the other day) fill up, until by the end it acted like a second skin. Sara waited another 15 minutes before finally stepping down.
The woman that looked back at her from the mirror was nigh unrecognizable. Personally, Sara truly liked what she saw. Gone were her collarbone that had always stuck out so prominently, gone were her sharp cheek bones that had given her face an undesired harsh look, gone was the well defined jaw line that looked more manish than she liked.
In their place were temptingly soft cheeks, a heart-shaped curve to her face, and a kissibly smooth neck. Indeed, just a few days ago she had thought her long neck was gangly and unbecoming, but now that the muscles, veins, and bones were messing up its curve she found it rather graceful. Happily, she ran a gentle touch down along her neck and over she shoulders, which too had smoothed out, and over her terribly soft arms.
"These," Sara said aloud, "are some dangerous curves."
Turning she took a glance at her butt, which she actually had now, and found that it flowed into her thicker thighs rather nicely, like dew around an apple. Her belly, which by now was rather noticeable, wasn't quite so large as to distract from her burgeoning breasts, which had outgrown her bras and now found support in the immense pressure they put on the dress.
"One hundred pounds with just four glances," she commented to herself.
Not quite knowing what to do with her day, she caught sight of the strained seems on the dress she was wearing. Though it was a shame to ruin such a lovely garment, the possibility was too tempting. Hurrying to the painting, she glanced upon it again. Her avatar was curiously lying on the floor, looking towards the phone, and plumped up even more.
"Hmm, that's an idea." Setting the picture down, ensuring it was safe; Sara went straight to the phone, giggling to herself along the way at the fact that she was developing a very slight waddle. Her thighs weren't so thick that she couldn't fit one around the other, but it was within sight. Once to the phone, she called up some of her closest friends and invited them over. As of yet no one she knew had seen her at her new size (or any of her older "new sizes"). This, she decided, would be fun. However, no one could make it before that afternoon.
Hardly daunted, Sara went to watch herself in a mirror. Two hours later she seriously regretted trying to burst out of the dress. A 235 lb body was far too much to shove into the dress, yet apparently clothing was stronger than she thought. Though the dress had been full length, it now only reached slightly past her knees, as it had been pulled up by her overly expanded body. The dress constricted her breathing and bound her legs too tightly to let her walk.
She tried taking it off, but couldn't bend one way or another, nor could she move her arms very far. Sara tried to hop out of the bathroom but merely fell down on the carpet. There beside her was the painting, despite the fact that she had set it carefully in her bedroom. If only she could have gotten to the phone or something, but being effectively bound, she decided her only hope was to finish what she started. Nudging the painting with her nose so that she could look at it, Sara saw herself greeting her friends at the door wearing naught but her unmentionables.
Sara wasn't sure what pain was caused by her old growth and what pain was caused by the new fat being added to her, but she was in utter agony as she swelled up. The sleeves cut so deeply into her upper arm that her fat flowed back over it, hiding the offending edge from sight. With nowhere else to go, her breasts began to squeeze up and through the v neckline, despite the fact that it wasn't low-cut in the least. Her toes seemed to be tingling from a reduced blood flow, and she began to worry about suffocating.
Unaware of how long she was on the ground, groaning in agony, the doorbell surprised her enough to make her jump. That force was enough and the dress ripped at a seem right along her armpit. Struggling, she expanded it enough to allow her arms free movement. Grabbing at the tear, Sara pulled. A rather satisfying series of rips followed as the stitching tore right out of the fabric. Once firmly started, her fat finished the job, cascading out of the restricting raiment in waves. The doorbell rang again and Sara tore the remaining shreds off of herself. Hurriedly she pulled out the first thing she could find in her mother's drawer (a bra and panties), she walked to the door, being far too out of breath (and out of shape) to run.
Not all of her friends stood at the door, in fact there were only two: Lansen Gripen and Viggen Draken. It seemed appropriate that Lan, her best male friend, would see her like this, and that Vi, her best female friend, would be there to support her.
"Uh... we're sorry... we are looking for Sara Saab?" Lan stuttered.
"Lan, Vi, its me! Sara! I've just gained a little weight." She ushered them inside.
"Sara? Well, yeah. A little weight, I guess."
"Oh come off it Lan. Sara, what happened? We saw you just a few days ago, how the heck did this happen?" Vi asked. Sara obliged with an explanation, though she insisted that they follow her to her parent's bedroom, where she could finally fit into her mother's current wardrobe, more or less. Everything, including the D-cup bras, were too large, which was exactly what she wanted after bursting out of that dress. She opted for some nice sweet shorts and a large, billowy shirt that her mother used for gardening.
"That picture is supposed to make you gain weight every time you look at it?" Lan asked, after Sara had finished.
Being sure not to look at it, Sara nodded. "That is what the girl said. Every time I look at it I know and become my heart's greatest desire."
"And your heart's greatest desire is to become fat?" Vi asked.
"Apparently. I didn't realize it, but," Sara cuddled herself, paying particular attention to her greatly increased belly, "I do kind of like it.
Walking over to the picture, Lan asked how much she weighed now. Unsure, though with a good expectation, she got on the scale. Verily, after shoving her breasts and belly out of the way, Sara could see that it read 260, which she called out to her friends.
Picking up the picture, Lan asked another question, "Can you show us?"
Sara shook her head, "I've already gained 75 lb in a single day." Feeling odd when she shook her head, Sara looked in a mirror to see that her heart-shaped face had now added a second chin that jiggled separately.
Vi went over and looked as well. "Aw come on, you'll just be granting your heart's desire, right?"
The mirror decided for Sara. She saw herself, with breasts drooping despite the bra, with love handles that merely flowed into a shelf-like behind, a rather large behind at that, and hips large enough to utterly confound her sense of personal space. "Alright."
Lifting herself off of the bed where she had been sitting, a feat that required far more effort than she was used to, Sara made her way over to her friends. They parted and allowed her to glance at the picture again. Curiously, she was reclining in the living room with empty food containers in the background. As she expected, her avatar began to grow, yet it seemed to take longer this time and by the end she looked so much bigger than expected. Perhaps, she thought to herself, at her size twenty five pounds looked like a lot more.
"See, the picture changes too. I was answering the door last time I saw, now I am reclining in the living room... watching TV I guess."
"Why am I in the picture?" Vi asked.
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am feeding you or something."
Sara looked again but didn't see her friend there. "What do you see Lan?"
"Wha? Um... nothing." He avoided eye contact.
Sara could already feel her clothes shift has the weight began to find its way onto her frame. Turning too abruptly, her belly swung around and put her off balance, causing her to fall into Lan. It took a second for her to regain her composure, all the while her plush body was pressed firmly against Lan's.
Standing up, she asked again "Nah, common. What did you see?"
Shuffling his feet a bit, he replied, "Same as Vi, but I only see you and me, not her." Sara had the feeling he wasn't being terribly honest, but decided to let the matter drop.
"I wonder why I can't see you guys and you can see each other."
Vi was the one who figured it out. "The painting must show the viewer's desire concerning you. You want to gain weight, so that is what you see. I've always thought you'd look good fat and wanted to feed you, so that is what I see. And Lan..."
He coughed to interrupt her. "Yes, well... um... so what now?"
"Well, do you want to feed me?"
It was an odd question, to be sure, and neither Vi nor Lan had ever had anything similar asked of them. It was the obvious course of action after the painting's revelation, but still...
"Why would you want us to do that?"
"I haven't eaten today yet, so I'm hungry. And obviously if you feed me you'll be fulfilling your own desires. Besides, whatever the painting shows, happens. You guys will somehow end up feeding me, so why not make things orderly?"
Shrugging, both Vi and Lan uneasily headed towards the living room. They were both on their cell phones in a moment, one ordering pizza, the other ordered southern cooking from "All y'all's Al's" eatery.
Sara pulled at her clothes warily and decided to be safe. Trekking up to the attic, she found a muumuu from when her mother was at her largest. It looked like someone had dropped a bolt of cloth on her, but it was loose, comfortable, and not in much chance of strangling her alive. Finding the effort of climbing the stairs and searching through clothes to be exhausting, she didn't come down until Lan called out that the food would be there shortly. Breathing heavily, Sara plodded down the stairs, all of which creaked more than she remembered, and decided to stop by the scale. It already read 287.
Sara almost got off the scale before she realized what she had read. That was 2 lb over what she should have weighed after that last glance. Her image didn't just look big with another 25 on her, she actually gained more. But, Sara realized, that was because three people perceived the truth, and so she would become the truth three times over.
Waddling as fast as she could to the front room, the doorbell range and Sara automatically opened it. There stood the pizza boy with what must have been a good eight pizzas, all extra large. The sight and smell captured Sara's full attention, while her huge form captured the pizza boy's. Lan came up behind Sara, glared at the guy as Sara grabbed the pizzas with a passion, and paid him.
In a flash Sara was in the chair and both Lan and Vi started feeding her. When night fell the pizzas and other food were nearly gone. Sara couldn't believe that she had eaten so much. Her belly swelled out in front of her, touching her thighs, and utterly blocking the TV as she reclined.
Both her friends needed to be going, as it was rather late, but they made sure Sara would be alright. Other than finding that she couldn't get up from being over full, she assured them that everything would be fine. Lan in particular left with reluctance.
Resting for several minutes, Sara tried to get up again. Opening her eyes, she saw that on the far wall, above the TV, was the painting, hanging (though she was sure it had been left in the bedroom). She knew the damage was done before she even had the thought to look away. She must have been at 335 after the triple dose she got with Lan and Vi (they were surprised to find that such a large gain wasn't normal), minus any weight from the pizza, and now she'd be even larger by the end of the day.
Trying desperately to get up, Sara found that the recliner seemed to be stuck in its position, and with her full belly there was no way she could get out of it. Resigning herself to an uncomfortable night, Sara tried to make the best out of it and get some sleep.
