"Nightmare Pigs" Chapter 1 (Patreon)

A mysterious entity forever changes the lives of five pretty, petty, popular bitches. Revenge is swift and heavy. (This story features, slob elements including the usual magical weight gain stuff.)

This is the first chapter in in a longer commissioned piece by a Patreon patron. As a reminder, patrons get an extra 350 words (an over 10 dollars value) whenever they commission work from me (no matter the size. If you commission a 1,000 word story, you'll get at least 1,350 words. (Probably a good deal more because 1. I'm not handing you an incomplete piece and I don't bother to actually meticulously count as I write and  2. I hate things that involve the number 13.) You can DM me here or email me at bswriterstories@gmail.com to commission your own piece.

Anyway, enough of the ad read. Enjoy the story!

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Nightmare Pigs” by BS Writer

“Witches come in many forms dear.”

Cynthia’s scream caught in her throat as an elongated finger reached toward her. A pointed purple finger nailed danced along her jugular and lifted up her chin.

“How unfortunate that you ran into me.”

Cynthia saw a flash and in that moment there was a vision standing in front of her, one that was her and yet couldn’t be her.

She was fat.

Not only was she fat. She was gloriously obese, a true hog of a woman whose bulbous belly extended so far down that as she was on all fours, it dragged against the floor.

All fours.

Like a pig.

Cynthia looked at the vision that was but couldn’t be her. The woman in front of her was an obese hog, stark naked and with her ass waving in the air.

That ass was the largest, fattest, softest looking ass that Cynthia had ever scene, and the way its two naked cellulite covered cheeks rippled and wiggled from side to side so contently as she shoved her face into what looked to be a metal trough full of pig slop was enough to make Cynthia want to vomit.

It was a cold burning sensation that filled her stomach as she looked at this monstrous version of herself, with her stomach pressed against the floor with love handles that cartoonishly pressed outward. She was so fat that she couldn’t believe the geometry of what she was actually seeing. Folds after folds rolls upon rolls of fat seemed to make up her piggish body.

She tried to scream but not sound came from her mouth, and instead she could swear she heard this obese women oink in time to her attempted scream. Cynthia tried to run but felt held in place as if invisible hands were grasping onto her shoulders. As she held her gaze on this fantastically fattened version of herself, it felt like nails were digging into her own flesh, the pain keeping her eyes wide open no matter how much she wished to look away.

Instead she was stuck staring at this things gigantic thunder thighs, huge pillars of fat so loos the the fat by her knees folded over and while she was on all fours that flab also kissed the floor.

Cynthia tried everything she could to deny that this was her. She almost had herself believing that until this thing lifted its head and slowly turned around. Her huge pendulous breasts swung from side to side as she crawled in a clumsy attempt to turn herself. The stretchmarked mammaries were losing the battle of gravity just like the rest of their fatty form as from the front it seemed like most of her fat body was slowly trying its best to melt into the floor. This couldn’t be her.

But then the piggish woman lifted up her head, and Cynthia could see the fear in the eyes that matched her own. And even with jowly cheeks that pressed those fearful eyes into beady spheres, Cynthia knew it was her.

That was when the vision of this monstrously obese version of herself disappeared and, in another blink, a woman was standing there.

She was a tall woman with a true height that was unknowable. As Cynthia looked at the woman she thought she could have been six feet tall or eight feet tall. Her entire body looked like most humans but with features that were unnaturally extended. She was a stacked woman who did not so much seem to walk as glide toward Cynthia.

“Cynthia Sinclair. You have been a naughty naughty girl.”

“Wh-what are you?”

Cynthia watched as the woman’s mass of deep purple hair reached out like individual tentacles and tickled her chin.

“I already told you, dear. I’m a kind of witch. There are many kinds, the religious ones, the naturalists, totemic witches. I suppose I’m a bit more fantastic than those. There are some who call my kind dream eaters, nightmare weavers. You could call me a night hag if you felt so crude, but I don’t much care for the term.”

“”Wh-what do you want from me?”

Her lips parted to reveal shark-like teeth.

“What do I want? It’s simple.”

“I want you to get tremendously fat.”

“I want you to know what it feels like to lose control, to feel powerless. I want to watch those abs you’re so proud of melt into a big fat pot belly that you’re stuck holding in your fat hands.”

“I want to savor the look of fear in your eyes as you watch your body change and beg me to change you back, and deep down I want you to know that there is no going back.”

“I’m going to turn you into the pig that you deserve to be.”

“Please! Please don’t do this. Just leave me alone and I can give you whatever you want.”

The witch let loose a cackle that started low and deep in the pit of her stomach and tore through her throat high and shrill before being cut off without and echo as the witch looked Cynthia dead in the eyes.

“Oh, darling. Nothing you could do can stop me, even in your dreams.”

She leaned forward a small kiss on the forehead that made Cynthia’s stomach churn and then gave Cynthia a patronizing pat on the head.

“Now let’s get started, shall we?”

Suddenly, Cynthia’s clothes were gone and she was left naked which gave a fan view of her tan and toned body.

The witch circled her and then slap her tight butt.

“Quite the cute butt you’ve got there. Pert. I would say. I bet you a lot of people like to look at it. Am I right?”

Cynthia nodded.

“Of course I am. Let’s do something about that.”

The witch pinched Cynthia’s butt and suddenly it felt like it was willing like water balloons, filling outward and first and then sagging downward. Instinctively, Cynthia’s hands flew to her rear, and she felt the muscles give way as the fat pressed against her fingers. The weight felt alien, and with a morbid sense of curiosity, she shook the flab and felt the weight on each hand, moving them up and down as if they were scales or she was choosing between two juicy but overly soft melons. Her fingers explored the flesh that continued to stretch and soften until she could pinch sections of it just by lazily moving her fingers like scissors.

“This can’t be happening.”

“Oh, but it is. That big booty is all yours now. Heavy isn’t it?”

The weight of all the lard still filling her now rapidly dimpling behind made the hairs on the back of Cynthia’s neck stand up as her heart raced.

“Not very flattering. You’ve got a lot of meat, but it's all very fatty. Soft.”

The witch tapped her long purple fingernail against her pursed lips.

“Still, some people might still like the look of it, and if we’re gonna have that fat ass of your turning heads, we want it to be for the wrong reasons, so…”

PHHHRRFFFFPPTT

Suddenly a long squeaky fart ripped out from between Cynthia’s vibrating ass cheeks. She could feel them tremble in her hand as that fart was quickly followed by a loud trumpeting one. The smell made Cynthia gag.

“Oh-oh God!”

“Yup. That’s an attention grabber, but it’s going to limit your friend options.”

“Please. *PFFRRRPPT* Stop this.”

“No. I don’t think I will. Instead, I’ll let you choose which part to plump up next. That tight tummy or those lean legs? Care to choose?”

Cynthia flushed with anger. It was enough to be subjected to this torture, but to be expected to be a willing participant? She wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Abs-”

“Abs it is!” The witch shouted with glee.

Her long nail ran across Cynthia’s abdominal muscles, right along the line of her belly button. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Cynthia felt like an overstuffed sausage whose casing had been split as her belly began pouring outward. In an instant her stomach muscles were gone, bloated into a pot belly and quickly burgeoning on spare tire territory. Where the witch’s fingernail had cut across, Cynthia’s stomach split into a massive double belly, two thick rolls that swelled out so fast, Cynthia could only hopelessly catch the lower roll as it drooped downward past her privates. The pulpy fat protruded outward so far and so fast, that Cynthia didn’t even have the opportunity to pretend that she might be able to shove it back in.

Instead she just held her flabby stomach in her hand and felt the massiveness of her gut as it continued to fill up with fat and then-

PFFRRRRRRRPPPPPPPHHHHTTT!!!!!!!

Gas.

“There we go,” said the witch.

“I want you to know what it feels like to feel bloated just all the time. Good luck trying to workout with that giant sack of fat weighing you down and getting in your way. That should ensure that you’re never able to lose any weight.”

At this point, Cynthia looked absolutely ridiculous because her outrageously fat body was outrageously fat in only two places with her fat ass and flabby stomach jutting outward in opposite directions like opposing magnets and forming two drooping shelves of fat. She looked like an unfinished fertility sculpture, missing clay in a few key places.

“Let’s fix that and even you out a bit.”

The witch did not kneel to reach Cynthia’s thighs. Instead, the witch seemed to sink through what Cynthia perceived as floor until she was eye level with Cynthia’s deep and drooping belly button with her purple hair sprawled out like a web behind her. Then she pinched Cynthia’s thighs, and Cynthia could instantly feel them filling with fat under her touch.

Years of hard earned muscles melted her way as her thighs, previously slim but wiry with muscle, met the same fate as her belly and ass. They began to blow up and out and grow heavier with fat, feeling like two heavy sandbags. She couldn’t see behind her, but Cynthia knew she was growing thick, thunderous, cottage cheese thighs, and she could hear them slap together as the flesh met and then pushed against itself forcing her to widen her stance.

“No more running for you. You’re going to be much more comfortable on a couch.”

“Please. No more. I’m fat enough. Whatever the lesson is, I’ve learned it.”

“Oh, my little piggy, there’s still so much more to do. I haven’t even finished with your legs!”

And with that, Cynthia could feel the fat work its way downward, giving her bloated cankles and fat feet with tubby toes.

“Those legs are made for waddling. And that’s just what they’ll do. Now I think it’s time we fatten up those lean arms too.”

Cynthia had never particularly worked hard on maintaining her arms. They had never been a part of her that she worried about getting fat. She had naturally slim arms after all- no fat girl arms, the kind of soft doughy arms that young women have when they’re slim that signal they’re primed for a blow up. But now, as the fat filled them up, Cynthia found herself with a bonafide set of wobbly bingo wings.

“What’s next? Breasts, I suppose? I don’t want to do too much with them. It would be a shame to gift you something you’d actually be happy with. No, I'm thinking we’ll just go with softer.”

While technically slightly filling with fat, it felt much more like Cynthia’s breasts were deflating as they lost any kind of firmness and the new fat dragged them down and made them look smaller than they were.

“There we go, some saggy puppy fat boobs. Heavy and uncomfortable, but not nearly as alluring. Some people might be interested but…”

PHRRRPPPPPFFFFFTT

“That will still keep them away.”

The witch glided around Cynthia as she looked her up and down and inspected her handiwork.

“And that leaves us with… ah yes! That pretty face.”

Cynthia felt the long, cold fingers of the witch as she wrapped them around her chin and tugged Cynthia so that she was staring at her reflection in a suddenly conjured mirror.

“So beautiful. Angelic really. Such high cheekbones and a dainty jawline. No wonder you were so popular. Say goodbye.”

Before Cynthia could say anything, the witch pulled down her fingers and dragged out a doughy double chin from Cynthia’s jawline. As that bit of fat dangled like a turkey’s wattle, Cynthia felt her skin inflate and stretch into two chubby chipmunk cheeks.

“There’s our jumbo jowly girl. No turning back. What do you think?”

Cynthia looked down at her naked body and shudder, which, of course, made her entire fat body tremble and sway and jiggle which made her sob, which made her breasts heave and sway, and it seemed to her no matter what she did, her entire body would insisted on being a jiggly mess, and all of that knowledge just made her sadder and angrier and-

Her thoughts were momentarily interrupted by another tremendous blast of gas escaping her rear which caught her by surprise and sent her into another cycle of sobbing and wobbling. Her fat ass seemed intent on joining in on as much of the fun as possible, and, as if to taunt her perfectly (beyond just being massive and having cheeks that swayed back and forth with the smallest of movements) it let out a perfectly timed whining fart that mimicked her own whining sobs perfectly.

This brought the witch a tremendous amount of amusement as she slapped Cynthia’s well rounded rump.

“Well done, Cynthia. You really are becoming quite the spectacle now. I don’t think we’re quite done here though. No. You might yet learn to live without yourself and become at peace. Time to change your whole outlook on life. After all…”

”You shouldn’t be smiling. You don’t deserve to be happy.”

With a snap of the witch’s fingers, the color from Cynthia’s skin ran out and left completely pale except for the spots that were marred by bright red stretch marks. Her bright and wavy natural blonde hair was cut short and straight and dyed jet black. Her fat face was adorned with a garish amount of black lipstick and eyeliner, and her breath smelled like a pack of cigarettes.

Her pale, fat, flabby body became encased by an ill-fitting black corset that let her lower belly roll blow out the bottom and a short black skirt that rode up and exposed the lower parts of her blubbery butt cheeks. Her thighs were wrapped in fishnet stockings that let the cellulite ridden fat of her thunder thighs squeeze through them. Even her fat feet were now adorned by chunky combat boots.

“How do you feel, Cynthia Sinclair?”

Cynthia blinked as her entire personality shifted, gone was the slim and sexy barbie girl replaced with a fat gothic slob.

“It’s Syn now,” she sneered.

The witch, well aware of the spelling of Cynthia’s new chosen nickname, cupped her chubby cheeks and pulled her fat face close.

“That’s so fucking stupid.”

Cynthia blinked and for a moment was herself again.

“No. No no no no. Please. Please.”

“That’s right. Beg for me, piggy.”

“Wh-who are you? Wh-why me?”

The witch’s face contorted into a cheshire cat grin.

“Would you really like to know?”