The Goblin Curse (Patreon)

Allison had no idea what went wrong. She got up for school, went to the bathroom, checked herself in the mirror... and realized the mirror was about twice as high as it was yesterday. It took her a few minutes to wake up properly (she could practically apply her makeup in her sleep), so she was absolutely not prepared to respond to this sudden change. Even the toilet and the sink were higher...
Piecing together that she might be the problem (for like, once in her life!), she climbed up onto the toilet and stood up on her toes to be able to see the mirror. She screamed when she saw what was in there, and screamed again when she saw that the reflection screamed just to confirm what she feared. She was hideous!
Allison was a tall, thin, pretty cheerleader type (also literal) with long blonde hair and shapely breasts that fit nicely into any of the numerous sweaters, blouses, tanktops, or designer bras she owned. Rather, she was last night. She was in the photos around her room and on her phone. Now she was a short, relish-green girl with a big nose, big lips, huge flabby boobs... it was like she had taken on all the worst parts of all the girls she'd made fun of at school to look like on hideous little troll (to be fair, that one girl who was green was pretty weird).
Allison looked at herself, realizing her pajamas were far too big now apart from around the chest and ass... oh god, her ass was huge too!? She had to take stock of her situation before telling anyone. There had to be a way to fix this!
She looked herself over with a hand mirror, cringing at each revolting curve and lump of flab. She hadn't starved herself and mocked the fat kids at school to end up like this! She had long hair that was now a scabby red mess that was just full of knots. Thick purple lips and a nose that reminded her of half of a cucumber stuck out from her face, and small pock marks and spots marking her skin like some kind of lizard. Everything was relatively and recognizably humanoid, if only about 3-feet tall. Someone could live like this relatively minor handicap, but Allison was dumbfounded by all that she'd lost.
She shouted for her mom, who let out a scream when she saw her mutated daughter. Allison cleared things up quickly by rattling off her social security number and a few personal memories. While Allison was still flipping out about it, her mother actually had to giggle at the scene. She was short and cute in an inhuman kind of way, and jiggled when she paced around in her too-big clothes. Allison didn't find the whole scene so funny, of course.
"It's not the worst thing in the world," her mom insisted. "You're still you in there. You still sound and act like yourself."
"But my face! My hair!" Allison whined. "What's everyone at school going to say!?"
"They're your friends. They won't mind," she assured. "Your father and I will call a doctor while you're out and just tell everyone that we're going to fix it."
"Fix... ALL of me?!" she snapped. She growled and rubbed a hand over her face, baring crooked little fangs. "Forget it. I'm fine. If you're not taking this seriously, I'm just going to go." Al tried to storm off into the bathroom, but tripped over her baggy pants. Her jiggly butt fell right out of the top, so she abandoned them to go in just her stretched out panties and slam the door shut. There was a moment of silence, then some intense grunting and growling.
"...mom...?"
"Yes, Alli?"
"I can't reach the shower..."

Allison felt like an idiot. For the rest of the morning, the cheerleader was helped through just about everything. Her mom helped her shower and drove her to school. She hated relying on others for anything. Bossing them around was one thing, but NEEDING somebody was something new. It was hard to find anything that fit her without looking incredibly slutty or without it hanging off her like a fricking robe. She compromised on the old sweat pants and the sweater she'd forgotten in the back of her closet. They were tight-fitting but at least it didn't made her green gut hang out. She threw a hoodie over all of it and hoped for the best.
The school wasn't so forgiving. Everyone noticed the new munchkin in school, especially when teachers checked if someone had brought their little brother to school. Al was eventually forced to drop the hood and show her student ID, and the jig was up. Everyone stared, everyone asked.
"What happened?"
"I don't know," she'd reply miserably. Her voice was pretty untouched for some reason, which just made it worse. It was clearly Allison Grady looking like this, not some imposter. "I woke up like this."
"What are you gonna do?"
"I guess see a doctor or something? Maybe a freakin' witchdoctor, because this ain't normal."
"Can I have your old clothes?"
"OMG, fuck off, Cindy!"
When things kept going that way, people just started to snicker and pretend to ignore her. The thing that Allison was afraid of was proving to be true: she wasn't the popular girl that everyone wanted to be because of a winning personality or stellar booksmarts. Her looks were gone, and the old crew wanted nothing to do with her but to belittle her. Shortstack, smallfry, half-pint, and other somehow food-related nicknames were tossed around. She was too mad to cry, but that didn't help much with coping with the insults.
When she went to the cafeteria for lunch, she wasn't sure where to sit. She inched towards her usual table, but the jocks and cheerleaders slapped up a piece of notebook paper on it. "You must be this tall to sit here" was scrawled out on it with offensively careful penmanship. Tucker snorted a laugh at her, even when the guy didn't put that much effort into his writing assignments. She wasn't exactly in the good graces with the other cliques so much as she held a tyrannical stranglehold on their social lives, so they were glad for the chance to shun her back. She found the outdated half-table in the corner of the caf and sat there, unpacking her lunch.
One person finally sat across from her. "You too, huh?" Georgia was the school's weirdo goth, and wore it on her sleeve (right next to her Marilyn Manson decal). Head shaved into a crewcut, black lipstick, nails painted with little skull and crossbones on them, torn up jeans with safety pins through the legs... the works. The girl was clearly out to remind everyone how different she was. While she was the one people would heartlessly imply as the one to shoot up the school, she never bothered anybody. Not besides being "social life's version of cancer," as Allison once told her friends.
Allison tried to smile at her, but it came out more of a sneer. It was all in her lack of effort more than the body (the big lips seemed build for pouting and smiling, in fact).
"Sucks," Georgia said with a shrug, taking a bite of her sandwich. The two ate quietly for a while before the goth spoke up again. "So how'd you pull that off? Can you teach me how?"
"Ughhh!" Allison groaned loudly and banged her head on the table. "Ohmigod. I don't know how it happened! If I did, I'd be trying to turn it off! I woke up and I was in this fat scummy body."
Ali shrugged and smiled with her dark lips. "Ah, you look cute. Sorta Muppet meets wow."
"Meets what?"
"WoW. Nevermind. It's a sweet look is all I'm sayin'."
"You said it sucks," Allison snapped bitterly, going back to her food her mom packed.
"Nah, I meant sitting at the Forbidden Zone." Allison looked at her confused. "Holy shit, Planet of the Apes? Nothin'? Bitch, you better be learning your retro-geek if you're going to be sitting here."
"What'd you call me?" Allison snapped, standing up on her seat to get eye level with the goth. "I am..." She trailed off. She'd have berated the girl and maybe beat her up with her posse a week ago. There was no posse now. No one to impress. No perfect body to brag about and protect. She plopped back down on her pillowy butt and went back to her food, awkwardly pulling the wedgie out of her ass from standing up too fast with her giant ass. Georgia just stared at her apathetically until she was sure the rant was gone, then ate again.
"I dunno. I'm just sayin' it sounds like a curse. Some Grimm shit. Or at least Neil Gaiman."
Allison thought about that a moment. It did sound like the best idea she had. She didn't get blasted with radioactive waste or anything to do this. But if it was magic...
"So um, Gina..."
"It's Georgia."
"Right. Georgia. Yea. So could you, like, find out what kind of curse this is? Maybe kinda... fix it? Like even a little?"
"So you're saying because I'm a goth, I'm into magic and shit?" Georgia asked around her mouthful of tunafish.
"Yea!" Allison looked excited for the first time in the day, her stubby pointed ears twitching (she'd taken the hood off when all the extra clothes made her sweat).
Georgia frowned back at her, then took another bite. It was as if the conversation was under protest, so she'd make it as unpleasant to talk to her as possible. "...you're lucky my uncles got that occult bookstore downtown. I'll talk to 'em..."
"Yessss!" Allison hissed.
"For a thousand bucks."
"WHAT!? What for!?"
"Because my uncle's a creepy cultist! Because you're loaded! Why the fuck not?" Georgia defended, raising her arms as if the universe was her evidence. She pointed a finger sharply at the squat green girl. "And cuz you and your shitty friends wouldn't say a word to me unless it was an insult. That's why! You wanna be a bitch all your life and then order me around? Better at least be giving me minimum wage for it."
Allison would have blushed through all the green if she could. She went quiet and hung her head a while. Georgia rolled her eyes and sucked down some Snapple. "If you want, you can just get 500 and I start searching. I should have that by the time you have the second half of the thou. It just might take a little while."
"Have you done anything like this before?"
"I brought a cat back to life once. That was kinda cool." Allison stared at her, but Georgia shook her head. "It wasn't my cat. Some stray I hit with my car. Felt like shit about it." The goth's unflinching tone suggested there might even be some truth to her claim.
Allison's nostrils flared and she nodded. "Fine. Whatever," she muttered. "I'll do it."
It was easier said than done. She went with her parents to the doctors the next morning, and they couldn't find a thing beyond the fact that she was underheight, overweight, but somehow perfectly healthy and disease free. Science was no help, so Allison asked her parents about Georgia. They said it was a silly idea, especially with a fellow student who was just trying to extort her. They’d help her out, but with professionals, not big-talking strangers.

It was how Allison got her part-time job. The bar up the road hired her on as a waitress, so long as she didn’t serve alcohol. Her parents didn’t mind what she did with the money. They even appreciated her getting some work ethic instead of relying on their family’s wealth. It was awful to put up with the rowdy drunks, but it was hard to decide what was worse: putting up with the hands that tried to cop a feel on her big jugs, tucked into a too-small top (“It’s the smallest we’ve got,” the owner insisted. “I’ll put an order for something your size,”) or the jabs at her height. By the end of her first Friday night shift, she felt ready to snap. She had to carry the trays balanced on her head, because her clumsy little hands wouldn’t manage it. She kept sticking stuff into her cleavage just because her pants were too tight to fit her checks or notepad. She was sweaty and greasy from her first day of real work. And if someone asked if they served “shortstacks” or “half a pint” or if she were a “short order cook” again, she would…
Then a tossed french fry landed in her bouncey green cleavage. “Hey, trollface! Can I get a refill?”
“OKAY! That one wasn’t even clever!! Who taught you how to bully, you-!?”
The owner/bartender stepped up in front of the catcalling gentleman, who seemed to shrink a few inches himself. Gus was a big burly guy in his late 40s with a red lumberjack beard that, given the hair on his arms and back of his hands, threatened to conquer his entire body when its plans came to fruition. “You got a problem, son?”
“What? No, I was just-”
Her boss took the guy by the collar and lifted him up by his collar. Like, legit lifted him. Off the ground and everything. “Get your ass out of my bar, you little shit.” He dropped the guy back onto his feet, who backed down in a big hurry and ran right out the door. He waved over another waitress to cover the staring Allison’s tables and led her back to take a break.
“You alright?” Gus asked as the squat, fallen cheerleader pulled herself up onto one of the chairs in the break room.
“Yea, I guess. I mean… I didn’t expect that.”
“No one’s stuck up for you before?” Gus asked with a skeptical furrowing of his brow.
“Well… yea…” The truth was that nobody had ever really messed with her at all before recently. There hadn’t been anything to stand up for. It was like two new experiences all in one day.
Gus grunted and shook his head. “Well, you take some time to calm yourself down.” He went to the part where they dropped off the meals and scooped up the grilled cheese, chilli fries, and little dish of fried chicken strips that had been for the ejected guest. “That guy won’t be getting his order. You can go ahead and eat it for him. It's on me.”
It was all bar food, of course. Nothing you couldn't grill or deep fry. It was greasy and faintly steaming, and Allison's stomach gurgled. Still, her old... her NORMAL body didn't touch anything with half that many carbs. "I don't... like, y'know.... eat that."
"Why not?" Gus asked calmly. It was a genuine question rather than the "Do we have a problem?" talk he gave the guy out front.
"I've been watching my weight." This got a blank stare from her boss. Allison looked down, seeing how her green gut peeked out from under her shirt and her boobs jiggled when she breathed too hard. Her ass made it feel like sitting on a beanbag chair 24/7. "I... used to. I don't know if you ever saw, but my old body..."
"Right." He slid the plate closer to her. "So you used to. In your old body. So do what you want with this one." She had explained to him briefly when he interviewed her for the job, only because his interview consisted of about four questions. One of them was "You ain't a health risk, are ya?" which led to her summing up her transformation.
Maybe it was her long lump of a nose being bigger, but the food did smell amazing from this close. For what felt like the first time in years, Allison let herself loose and wolfed down the food. It was a guilty pleasure, knowing she hadn't had fried anything in ages because of what it would do to her stomach and her figure, but it tasted so good she didn't give a shit.
The word must have gotten around that Gus threw a man out of the bar, because people started to lay off the insults at work. School wasn't great, since she was starting from the ground up. It was like being a foreign exchange students except that everyone already knew her name (somehow nobody remembered Sven's name). Georgia remained her only steady friend now. She'd ask about how it felt, but largely just made smalltalk with her. It was the most fun in Allison's day (or Al, as Georgia had taken to calling her), letting the goth talk about her weird experiences at metal concerts, getting drunk, sneaking into clubs or her friends outside of school who went too far with the weird body mods.
"So I got started on the research."
Al's eyes lit up. "You did?!"
Georgia shrugged, but smirked a little. "It looked like it would take longer than expected, so I got a head start. It sounds like there should be a way, but that's way deeper into it than I am."
"But..." Allison had only been working a couple weeks at the bar. Tips and all, she'd only made about 300. "I haven't even got half yet."
"You're good for it," Georgia insisted, popping her pretzel stick into her mouth like a cigar so she could focus on putting another safety pin in her pants. "It's just an advance. What're friends for?"
Allison opened her mouth to answer... then shut it again. She sometimes gave the snacks she didn't want from her lunch to the other cheerleaders. Or if she was secretly trying to make them fat so she'd feel better about herself. She'd sometimes tell them their outfits looked nice when they didn't, just so somebody else would call them out on it later.
"I guess... thanks."
Allison went back to her lunch bag, and Georgia nodded at her food. "Don't you usually do like, carrot sticks and granola and shit?" she pried.
"Yea. I do." Al took another casual bite of her cheesesteak and chased it down with a handful of chips.
Georgia just smirked knowingly. "Good for you, jolly green. You do you."

Things were... okay. They weren't perfect, but now she wasn't sure that being perfect was all that great. Her parents got her clothes that fit, even if it included a bunch of tanktops and yoga pants to fit around her curves. She got used to things like this. Georgia taught her to ignore the haters, and they lost interest pretty quickly. She brought Al to the gaming club after school to blow their minds with her "dopeass goblin costume," just to wind up getting pretty into a session of their Bastions and Bugbears campaign.
It was a busy few weeks, but she finally had enough to get started. A little over 600 put away from working hard at Gus' pub. The school bell rang to end the day and she waddled off to find Georgia to get things going officially. The goth wasn't at her locker (the one with the marker doodled all over it), so she went searching. She never left school on time, sometimes staying out back to smoke before driving home (it wasn't like Al's feet could reach the pedals anymore). She was out back, but she wasn't alone.
"What do you think you're doing anyway?"
"Nothing. We're just eating lunch."
"You think this makes you cool? You think this will make anybody like you?"
"Hey, fuck off..."
"Oh no you don't, circus freak. You're not getting off that easy"
Al winced. She knew those voices. Did their bullying dialogue really get that cliche without her? She poked her little head around the corner, and sure enough, there was Mitsy, Candy, Lana, and Monica, hands on their hips and surrounding Georgia. The goth looked annoyed, but was avoiding their eyes and back against the wall. Al felt her gross little guts twisting into knots.
"Was this your big plan? Did you think Allison would get desperate enough someday to sit with you? That it would make you popular?"
"Fuck no! I'm trying to help her!" Georgia snapped defiantly.
"With what? Your stupid goth magic? That's so stupid!"
"Ohmigod. Don't tell me! Did you do this, you little witch? Are you the one who fucked up Allison into that little green shit?"
"What!? No!"
"You totally did! I knew it!"
"I told you so..."
"So jealous you threw around some wiccan bullshit and got her shrunk into that fat blob of our girl! Get her."
"I'm not even wiccan! What are you- HEY!" The girls grabbed Georgia's arms. She gave Mitsy an elbow to the face, but Lana leaned into her and slammed her into the wall. Georgia pushed back, but was stuck there.
"Someone get her lighter. I think it's time we burned a witch."
"HEY!" Al stomped around the corner. They didn't notice her right away, looking around for the source before their eyes found her. It was probably meant to be a lot more impactful than it was... "Leave her alone! She's not doing anything wrong!"
Her old clique stared at her, then snorted a laugh. "Allison?" Candy grinned, almost sneered. "What do you care? You were one of us, remember? They always deserve it. They dress like that to make themselves easy targets. Didn't you say that?"
Al fumed as she clenched her pudgy little fists. "Don't. Just don't."
"You said the emo dyke was stupid enough to not keep up with fashion and trends, so she buried herself in cheap makeup and-"
"You stop it! All of you! Let her go!" Al demanded. She'd had lots of reasons to be depressed and disgusted, even happy lately, but it was the first time she'd been really mad in a while.
Candy smirked and stepped up to her, the other girls still holding back Georgia. "Oh, I get it. You like it this way. You never WERE one of us. I should have known you were a poser. Someone just did us a favor and turned you into the real you. A fat, gross little piece of shit that likes to hide away with the geeks and the weirdos." Candy swung a kick into Al's soft stomach before she was anywhere in the squat girl's reach. As Al fell to her knees gagging, the cheerleader flicked the chrome lighter open and closed casually. "Maybe it's time we put the 'fry' into 'smallfry..."
Al sucked in a deep, wet breath like a sob, but at least it got some air back into her. When Candy grabbed her by the shaggy red hair, Al punched her right in the side of her knee. It was basically the only thing she could reach, but it certainly worked. Candy screamed and fell to one knee, low enough that Al could grab her by the collar of her uniform and pull down on it.
"Pick on somebody your own size, you stringbean bitch!" she screamed before slugging Candy right in her perfect nose. The alpha bitch went down to the grass, stunned with surprise as the rest of her posse did what they did best and swarmed over to their downed squadmate. Georgia immediately grabbed Monica by the hair and started raining punches on the screaming cheerleader's head. Mitsy and Lana came for Al, but she barged forward and hugged Mitsy's leg to bury her pointy little teeth into her calf. Mitsy screamed, but Lana tore her off and the two started to stomp and kick the downed Al.
The green girl swung wildly back at them, bruising and scratching up their legs until Lana tripped from a particularly good pull on her sneaker. Al climbed on top of her and started throwing punches into her face while Georgia tackled into Mitsy's side. She got a few punches into the blonde's ribs before she jerked free. Georgia grabbed for her, only to catch her by the skirt and pull. Mitsy decided to cut her losses and run off without her skirt, pantied butt bouncing behind her as the rest of the girls followed her lead. Lana managed to shove the heavy little green girl off of her, just to run for it like the rest.
"Alright. C'mere." Georgia leaned down, secured her hand under Al's ass, and lifted her up to sit on the sink of her bathroom. They'd driven back to Georgia's place, her dad working overnights so she had the place basically to herself. Nobody to ask questions about the strange little green girl, and nobody to point out all the bruises and grass stains on them.
"Fuck is that an ugly-looking mug," Georgia sighed, shaking her head. "At least your face turned out okay, though."
Al snorted at that and grinned. One of her big lips was split, and she'd stripped to her bra to see the bruises along her ribs and stomach. She'd at least avoided the black eye that Georgia gained in their struggle. Her makeup obscured it, at least.
"They are so gonna be pissed," Georgia sighed. "Better watch out tomorrow..."
"Trust me: they won't." Al rubbed a sore spot on her flabby belly. "We... they don't come after people who fight back that hard. They want people who know their place, not people who'll ruin their clothes and faces."
"Well thanks. I'd have popped one of those bitches a long time ago if I knew that." She rubbed at her cheek and got out the first aid stuff from the cabinet. She had a scratch along her cheek and another bruise down by her jaw.
"So... I have some of your money in my bag. If you wanted, I can..."
"Forget about it." Al gave her a surprised stare. "I got ya. You've got my back, so I've got yours. Keep the money. I'll keep asking my uncle what's up."
Al was stunned. She hadn't really encountered generosity outside of her family before. Then Gus watching out for her and giving her meals, and Georgia doing the research for free. She was so touched that it almost got tears in her eyes. "Do you have any makeup?" Al asked. The dark-eyed, black-lipped goth gave her a sarcastic look. "Point taken. I just mean if you let me use some, I can blend it in on you. Hide the bruises so you won't get in trouble. What are friends for, right?"
"Yea, thanks," Georgia smiled as she rubbed a bit of cream over her scratch. "You need anything?"
"No... the makeup doesn't work on me. There's no skin scream with a tone for 'rotten cucumber."
Georgia smiled and pinched one of Al's cheeks lightly. "That's good. You look pretty without any makeup on."
It was hard to tell what sparked it exactly. Al's heart was pounding from the news of her free cure, whether it worked or not. The goth had spent all this time talking with her and doing her all these favors. Then the heated fight today ending with this moment of quiet... Al turned and she kissed her. The goth's lipstick stung her split lip, and her chubby lips were bigger than Georgia's, but neither seemed to care. They kissed and Georgia took hold of her ass through her tight and torn pants, lifting her up and bringing her to the bedroom. The disgusting body was dropped onto the bed and lovingly stripped down to nothing. The sweaty, wiry hair on her armpits and groin, the mismatched toes, lumpy nose, the loose and slimy privates; nothing went untouched and unkissed by the accepting lover. Allison hadn't even brought herself to masturbate in her revolting form, and here she was praising and caressing everything about her. The squad had called her a dyke, but they could say what they wanted: Georgia absolutely knew how to eat a pussy just right. Al watched with a vulnerable fascination as the short-haired head was buried in between her chunky thighs, sucking and licking steadily as she looked right back at her. Her dark eyelids blinked slowly as if so utterly comfortable with her and not wanting to miss a moment of her saggy, short lover.
When Al finally emitted her piggish squeal to go with her orgasm, Georgia barely even flinched. She closed her eyes serenely and kept sliding her tongue up and down, drinking up whatever foul juices were coming out of the transformed girl. "I'm sorry," Al mumbled, tears coming to her eyes at last. "I'm so sorry. I'm disgusting."
"It tastes good," Georgia replied, lifting her head with her warm, mellow smile. "And I think you look better this way." She made the short trip up to the top of Al's body, cradling the naked goblin to her own pale breasts and pierced nipples. Al just curled up like a baby, breathing heavily through her snout of a nose as she was finally close to someone. Her parents had told her it was fine, her boss had utterly ignored the fact, but Georgia had told her she looked good from the first time they spoke. She kissed her again, and Georgia accepted her thick, slimey tongue into her mouth once more for what would be many more times that night.
When Georgia would drive them to school the next day, the cheerleaders didn't come after them. The game club welcomed them to return as their barbarian and druid joined the party once again. More importantly, when the mismatched pair of oddities kissed in the car before driving home, Al spoke up.
"Keep the cure. I don't need it."
"You sure don't," Georgia smiled, wide enough that her own eyes teared up. She wiped them with her arm and smeared her eyeliner, but didn't care.
"Yea. All I need is you." Al sat her big butt down on the passenger seat, wrapped the seatbelt around her fat breasts, and wrapped her little green hand inside Georgia's as they went home to meet Al's parents.