Mud sticks [Gaining]

Story created by Original Gainer Stories. You can find more in his tumblr profile.

Mark sighed as he stared over at Chester. Oh how he was going to miss seeing that handsome guy every day! Now that high school was over, there was only a short summer until he was heading off to college in New York, far away from this dump. Dragged from one foster home to another his entire life, this town had undoubtedly been the most boring of them all. There wasn’t a lot here that he was going to miss, but this stunning jock was undoubtedly one of them.

Not the brightest guy you would ever meet, Chester stood out entirely for his impossibly good-looks: unfathomably built and muscular for eighteen years old. Chester stood a good six inches above the rest of the guys in line at the graduation ceremony; broad shoulders and a perfect smile. He could have anything he wanted in life – if only he had the brains to go after it.

“Put your tongue away…” hissed a girl next to him. “Have some dignity! He’s not that good-looking!”

Mark turned his head to the harsh voice. He had never spoken to the girl before; not many people did - she was a girl you tried to avoid as much as you could. Beautiful and almost of another time, Heather stood there looking completely unimpressed by the ceremony going on around them. Dark make-up made her smouldering eyes sink further into shadow, whilst her long, black hair draped her pale face.

“I wasn’t…” Mark began, realising that he didn’t really have to explain himself to Heather Voss, of all people.

“Yes you were,” Heather sighed. “He’s straight. You can’t have him – get over it!”

“I know he’s straight!” Mark spat back, hissing through his teeth. He didn’t want everyone to know he had a crush on Chester – although, who could blame him? “I can still admire a handsome guy though, can’t I?”

“Except the boy is as dumb as they come,” Heather moaned, not caring who heard her. “Everyone knows that.”

Mark had to admit, she had a point. Despite his incredibly handsome looks, Chester was simply destined for a life working for his dad’s construction business. He’d marry some unremarkable girl and pop out a few kids one day, never leaving this town for something better. “Man, if I looked like that… there would be not stopping me!” Mark enthused.

Heather didn’t respond, but Mark could sense her gaze shifting back and forth between him and Chester. “You know…” she started. “…There is a way that could happen…” she teased.

Mark rolled his eyes. “I’m never going to look like Chester,” he scoffed. “Look at me!” he laughed, holding out his arms to present his slender, slight and entirely unremarkable build.

“What would it be worth to you?” Heather pressed on. “…If I gave you a body like his?” Her eyes were on him, calculating his interest, each subtle movement of his brow.

Mark’s stomach turned. He had heard about Heather’s interest in dark magic. Strange things had befallen the girls who had challenged her and, despite his own reasoning, he felt right to be cautious of her. “I’m not sure I understand…” he whispered.

“There’s a recipe in my grimoire that could do it,” Heather blurted on, pushing Mark to the side, away from anyone else. “It could give you a body like his. It would take me time to make the mud required, but it could definitely be done,” she stated, raising a confident eyebrow.

Inexplicably, Mark realised that he actually believed her. There was something about her presence that emanated the power that could flow through her body. Heather was not like other girls. “What would you get out of it?” he whispered back. “I know you wouldn’t help me without getting something in return.”

“You’re right,” she grinned. “You would allow me in to your body for one night,” Heather stated calmly. “Just one night. That’s all I ask.”

“Why would you want my body for a night?” Mark asked, goosebumps forming on his arms despite the heat of the day.

“There are certain rituals only men can perform,” Heather shrugged. “I am not allowed to leave this town. If I had your body for one night, I could do so many things…” she trailed off. “You scratch my back and I will scratch yours,” she finally finished.

“What does this…recipe, actually involve?” Mark asked gingerly.

“Is that a deal?” Heather pressed, ignoring him.

“If you can get me a body like Chester’s…” Mark pondered, looking over at the handsome man. “…THEN it’s a deal,” he nodded.

A few hours later, Mark found himself at a graduation party being hosted by one of the jock guys in Chester’s circle. Thankfully, his friend Macey had scored an invite, otherwise he never would have been allowed in. Once inside, his eyes boggled at the sight of Chester standing in the kitchen, chatting to a beautiful girl in the corner. His muscular arm was resting on the wall as he leaned into her intimately while chatting. The girl smiled and looked up at him as if smitten, her breasts on full display from the angle that Chester was gazing down at her. Mark saw him bend down and kiss the girl sweetly, but when he pulled away, the girl glanced directly at Mark and gave him a sly grin. It was Heather – who else would it be? he thought, feeling a sense of dread coming over him.

Mark watched as the pair disappeared upstairs. His heart was racing, somehow feeling that he was responsible; that his bargain had somehow caused this. He couldn’t settle at the party and kept looking at the stairs, watching for the pair to come down again.

About half an hour later, Heather descended the large staircase alone, slipping a bottle into her bag as she walked. The crowd that had gathered below instantly parted as she made her way to the front door and outside. Mark ran to catch up to her, finally getting her attention as they stood on the front lawn. “What was all that about?” he asked breathlessly.

“You’re welcome,” Heather huffed, pulling out the small bottle for him to see. “The recipe required a few… intimate ingredients.”

Mark gawked at the bottle. “Semen?” he asked, shocked.

“Amongst other things…” Heather grinned. “I will contact you when it is ready. Two full moons should be enough time.”

Mark watched her disappearing into the darkness. What had he started?

A knock came on Mark’s window and he awoke with a start. It was the dead of night and his room was littered with the boxes of stuff that he was taking with him to college in New York. Once he left this town, he was never coming back. He pulled back the curtains to see Heather standing on the roof, waiting patiently for the window to be opened for her.

“What the hell?” Mark grumbled as let the girl inside. “Heather - it’s 3am!”

Heather didn’t say a word, she simply pulled out a large jar from her bag. “This mud will do exactly what you want. We will coat your body in it tonight, and by sunrise, you will have the body you desire.”

Chester took the glass container and gazed at it. He couldn’t help but believe every word she said.

“But first,” Heather jumped in, uncorking a vial. “Drink this willingly. It will allow me into your body on a night of my choosing. Then the mud is yours,” she smiled, making it seem so simple.

Mark looked at the bottle dubiously. Then, with a rush of courage, he threw it down his throat and passed it back to Heather, who grinned happily. It was done.

Heather switched on a lamp and took the jar of mud. “Clothes off,” she ordered, unscrewing the jar and plunging her hand into the thick, oozing paste.

Mark did as he was told, feeling the cool mud slide over his slender body. Finally, with a little reluctance, he slid down his underwear and tried not to look at Heather as she washed the mud over his skinny ass and privates; her eyes mocking him as she did so. Pretty soon, everywhere was covered from the neck down.

“Now, lie down and go back to sleep,” Heather ordered, already wiping the mud off her hands with a towel she had packed in her bag.

Covered in the sticky mess, Mark lay back down without a care for his bedsheets. Even before Heather had left, his eyes were heavy and a deep sleep fell over him.

Mark felt different in the morning. His body no longer felt sticky with mud and he looked down to see his feet slipping over the end of his remarkably clean bedsheets. His heart racing, he immediately stood up and fell to the floor on his long, unfamiliar legs. Then, standing at the mirror, his jaw dropped as he gazed at the built, muscular reflection before him. His body was perfect! All but his face had transformed into a carbon copy of the most handsome man in town. Large biceps dominated his arms, whilst two huge pecs bounced in his chest. A sleek, toned six-pack slid down his centre to a hairy, enlarged penis. His thighs were strong and powerful looking and as he turned around, he saw the incredible width to his broad back and powerful glutes. Heather had done it!

Grinning triumphantly, Mark slid on the largest sweatpants he owned and considered how best to deal with his new situation. One thing he did know for certain was the insurance policy he would now need. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a box he had received a month ago. It had taken weeks of research, but as he slid it open to reveal the ring inside, he knew it would be worth it. He felt a sense of calm wash over him as the ring slid perfectly onto his larger, meatier hand.

The more Mark had thought about the deal he had made with Heather, the more unnerved he had become. What would Heather do in his body? She could commit murder, suicide or anything she wanted! She would never have to pay the consequences; but Mark would, once he regained consciousness. This ring and all its marking would prevent that. No magic, or spiritual possessions could be performed on anyone who wore it. It was the perfect plan. Heather could never leave town and would be unable to collect on their deal; especially if he didn’t leave a forwarding address with anyone.

Packing his stuff up, Mark left for New York that very morning. He’d leave a note for his foster parents, thanking them and insisting that he didn’t want an emotional send-off. How could he ever explain his new body to them anyway? New York was a fresh start; a new life to lead, where Heather could not get him.

For the next few months, Mark enjoyed all the attention that came with his perfect body. Pretty boys really did have life so much easier. He had never even lost his virginity in his old body, but now he was taking home guys every time he went out – great looking guys too! His income was boosted with some side-line modelling work and he was even getting higher grades on his papers thanks to the crush one of his professors seemed to have on him. At nineteen years of age, life could not be better.

It was March when Mark felt it; the evening of the Spring equinox. He felt his ring growing heavier on his finger as if it were building mass and a smouldering heat seemed to burn within it. Even from 300 miles away, Heather was trying to enter his body. All night, he could feel the sensations building and he did not sleep a wink. Only when the sun finally rose, did it stop.

“You went back on our deal,” a voice whispered in his head as he finally drifted off to sleep in the early morning. “You promised me entrance into your body,” Heather spoke. “How do you deny me?”

In his mind, Mark saw the image of the ring flash up.

“You wear a ring…” Heather realised. “After all I have done for you!” he voice shouted. Mark sensed the rage she felt. “If you think you are safe in New York, you are mistaken,” she hissed. “You may wear a ring to protect you from new magic, but there is other magic that already courses through your veins,” she shouted now. Then, like the blinking of an eye, she was gone.

Mark sat up, feeling uneasy. It had been so easy to forget the dicey game he had been playing. But what was about to happen now?

The Spring in New York was surprisingly pleasant considering the lack of nature. The cold winter days were now long gone and Mark could enjoy showing off his killer body in tight t-shirts once again. Every day he thought of the retribution Heather may try to perform and every day his logical mind reasoned that he was too far away for her to reach him.

“Are you coming out tonight?” Ben messaged him. “I’d love to see you!”

Mark grinned at the thought of hooking up with the fellow model again and sent a text back to confirm. He showered and slipped to his wardrobe to put on his best shirt. But, having buttoned it thoroughly, he stared at himself. Something was different. The buttons lower down, around his belly button seemed tighter. He turned to the side and gazed at himself. Had he gained a few pounds?

Throwing off his shirt, he went to the larger mirror and pressed at his stomach. His six pack was certainly less defined. But how? He hadn’t changed his diet at all; he hadn’t had to worry about his body at all since the mud. Feeling a little self-conscious for the first time in months, he slipped on a larger shirt instead and headed out, trying to put the nagging concerns out of his mind. No one seemed to notice a thing, but Mark could feel it; this fresh pad of fat below his belly button as if Heather were teasing him from 300 miles away. Had she created it? But how?

Mark found a tape measure and began to record his slim waist each morning. Thirty-two inches soon spread to thirty-three, then thirty-four within a matter of weeks. He felt a tire of fat starting to build around his centre; his six pack had all but disappeared, replaced with this solid, undefined centre. Pants started to fit a little awkwardly and each day he sucked in a little more, grunting angrily as he tried to button them. He could sense people beginning to whisper behind his back. Guys he had taken home occasionally started to make excuses as they bumped into him at clubs; their eyes fixated on the small paunch that was starting to press out below his muscular chest. The modelling work ceased. He gazed at himself in the mirror, grabbing at small handfuls of flesh around his love-handles. This was Heather’s work, undeniably. But he should have been protected from her magic by the ring. So why was this happening? How had he lost his perfect body so quickly? No one gained 45lbs without a reason.

Sweat pants became the only item that Mark could wear comfortably as his waist expanded upwards to almost forty inches. Even his face and legs were puffing up and he could feel his proud pecs starting to turn fleshy and jiggle as he walked. With a sigh, Mark knew it was time to head home and face Heather himself. He had to sort this out as fast as he could.

Standing outside of the house that he knew Heather lived in, Mark felt uneasy. He had never wanted to come back to this dead-end town and yet, here he was. He stepped up to the door, his heart beating fiercely in his chest and tapped lightly on the door, almost hoping that the sound would not be heard from inside. A shadow appeared behind the glass and the doorknob turned with more speed than Mark was ready for.

All too soon, Heather stood in-front of him, gazing at him wickedly and looking at his body up and down. Then a sadistic smile engulfed her face and she laughed, covering her mouth as if shocked and proud, all at once. “Well, well, well…” she said. “Just look at you! Who would have thought you’d have let yourself go like this!”

“Heather,” Mark sighed. “We really need to talk.”

“Are you going to remove that ring?” she asked firmly.

“No,” Mark stated. It was a red line he was not prepared to cross. But instead of anger, Heather’s face seemed to fill with pleasure as another, more obscene grin, filled her face.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” she smiled, almost laughing. “You had better come in then,” she said, holding the door wide open.

Stepping inside, a stench of sweat and stale food filled Mark’s nostrils and he tried his hardest not to hold his nose for fear of seeming rude. “I wanted to discuss some sort of compromise,” Mark began as the heavy door closed. But Heather shushed him and motioned for him to follow her; leading the way into the lounge. They both sat and Heather perched herself smugly in her large, comfortable chair. “I see New York is treating you well,” she mocked, pointing at the bulging middle that sat in Mark’s lap. “You might want to go easy on the cheeseburgers though fat boy,” she joked, raising an eyebrow.

Mark’s face set sternly. “How are you doing this?” he asked, grabbing a cushion and throwing it over his centre so that she couldn’t see his swelling body.

“You thought you were so clever!” she smiled, shaking her head. “You might have left town, but you left a very important piece of yourself behind.”

“Like what?” Mark asked, dumbfounded.

“Honey - could you come in here please?” Heather shouted aloud to the door.

There was silence, followed by a shuffling getting louder and louder. Then, all of a sudden, the door opened and in walked the town jock: Chester. His face was unmistakable, even despite the long, greasy, messed-up hair he now had. He carried a jar of peanut butter in his hand and his mouth was slightly covered around the edges from where he had missed, stuffing his sticky fingers into his mouth. But it was his body that was the most altered. Mark recognised it immediately as Chester walked in without a shirt. Every curve, every bulge of fat was his own. The huge, swollen mass building at his centre; the drooping pecs – it was like looking in a mirror. “We’re still connected…” Mark mumbled quietly to himself.

“And you always will be!” Heather grinned, holding out her hand from the comfort of her own chair for Chester to take and kiss. A smell of sweat followed the hulking man into the room. “Honey, you remember Mark from school don’t you?” she asked.

Chester looked at Mark without a hint of recognition.

“That’s alright baby,” Heather laughed. “He’s let himself go a bit. I’m not surprised you don’t recognise him!”

Realising what was happening, Mark felt a surge of anger in his mind. “Chester!” he began, knowing he’d get more sense out of him than trying to deal with the insane girl across the room. “You have to understand what she’s doing to you!” he implored. “She’s fattening you up like a pig for her own ends. She’s trying to get back at me!”

Chester looked across at Heather, who chuckled at Mark’s effort. “Did you hear that baby?” she said, patting the jock’s wide rear. “I’m fattening you up like a piggy!”

Chester smiled happily and he oinked aloud to make Heather laugh, grabbing his bare tummy and jiggling it for her.

“Good boy!” Heather smiled proudly, never once missing an opportunity to look back at Mark and witness the horror on his face. “Now, go drink that ice cream I left out to melt for you,” she ordered, patting him on his overdeveloped rear as if she were suddenly bored of him. “We need you nice and stuffed before lunch today, don’t we piggy?”

“What have you done to him?” Mark demanded as the obedient man left the room once again. “That’s not Chester!”

“Oh, but it is!” Heather smiled, relishing the opportunity to explain her deeds. “I have discovered a very submissive side to our town heartthrob,” she sighed happily. “Magnify that with a little magic and… well… fattening yourself into a pig for a girl becomes a very enticing prospect for a horny young man!” She laughed wickedly.

“You’re disgusting!” Mark spat standing up.

“No!” Heather returned fiercely. “I am merciful! I could have chopped his fingers off straight away to remove that ring from you. But I didn’t… You should be thanking me!”

Mark swallowed. Was she right? Now that he thought about it, with this connection between him and Chester, there were probably no end of ways she could find to torture him. “Fine!” he fumbled. “You can have the ring!”

Heather laughed. “No, no. It’s too late for that. I offered you to take it off only five minutes ago and you refused. Now we must both be patient.”

Mark tugged at the ring, but a powerful magnetic force seemed to push it back down his finger whenever he pulled it as high as his nail. “Why won’t it…?” he grunted with the effort.

“Because you refused me,” she said bitterly. “It’s magic, honey. Now there’s only one way that ring is coming off…”

Mark returned to New York feeling more dejected than ever. Somehow, he had managed to make things even worse by returning home. Worse still, he could have sworn that his stomach had grown even more in the time it took him to drive back here. He knew that, back home, poor Chester was guzzling and oinking like a pig to fatten up his body for Heather - just as she wanted. But how on earth was she getting away with it?

As the weeks went by, Mark would be sat in his dorm room feeling his clothes growing steadily tighter. His stomach seemed to ache with the effort of swelling and his energy depleted. Each day he tried to tug at the ring, to no avail. How long would it take to come off? Was Heather trying to fatten him to death? No – that couldn’t be right. What use would possessing him be if he were dead? But even so, just what was her endgame?

Heather would come to him in the early hours of the morning; just when his mind was regaining consciousness from a deeper sleep. Images of her and Chester were presented before his closed eyes. “Come on now piggy,” Heather would smile, holding a funnel above Chester’s open mouth. “Get it all down there porker!”

Chester would swallow with unnatural ease, pushing the thick liquid down into his blubbery body and making his bloated stomach ache with the swell. By the time he was finished, he was panting and wincing with the pain that made his groin harder than ever.

Mark watched helplessly as Heather slipped her hand down to Chester’s hardness, stroking him up and down. “What are you?” she would whisper into the horny boy’s ear.

“I’m a pig…” Chester would reply; the words easily bringing him to a quick climax.

“You don’t sound like a pig,” Heather teased, making Chester immediately begin a chorus of oinking as he came all over the floor.

When Mark awoke, he rubbed his soft belly. He could see the damage each and every day. Chester had not been allowed to exercise in months. He probably hadn’t even left the house. His muscles were slack and flabby, with only his imposing stature making him seem more built than he actually was now. Now Mark was exactly the same.

Mark held his breath as he tried to slip his underwear onto his body. His chubby legs protested as the material ascended and he wriggled his plump rear, trying to make the material stretch over this mammoth glutes. He hated getting dressed now. Each week he had to throw out more clothes that had no chance of fitting, knowing that he had no income to replace them. He used the campus gym to check his weight every couple of weeks, seeing the numbers climb steadily higher with shocking speed. 250lbs… 280… 300. No one gained weight this fast! he raged, as the weeks swept by. How the hell was she doing this to Chester? How had she made him eat so unquestioningly, just to please her?

Mark’s circle of friends seemed to evolve overnight. Abandoned by the former crowds who had surrounded him before, now he was sat playing videogames with other fat, nerdy guys in their dorm rooms. He had to stay social, he reminded himself as he tried to ignore how fat and round his belly was growing each and every day. Somehow, being around other fat guys was comforting. It didn’t matter so much if his underbelly slipped out or a button on his pants gave way in-front of them. It was all part of being a fat guy: the sweat, the ill-fitting clothes, the discomfort of walking up the damned stairs every day.

Feeling his blubbery ass cheeks spread, Mark was sitting down on the floor of his buddy, Daryl’s bedroom. The pair shared a pizza whilst they played video games. Whilst Mark hated the idea of eating in front of others now, all those disapproving stares as an obese man ate, Daryl he thought he could cope with. At 400lbs, Daryl still had a little more fat on him than Mark was yet to achieve.

“Dude!” Daryl called out once they started eating. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Mark stopped what he was doing and looked at Daryl. “What do you mean?” he asked, his heart beating from the harsh way his friend had just spoken to him.

“Why are you eating like that?” Daryl asked, his eyes wide with shock. “You’re oinking like a pig!”

Mark looked down at himself; his hand was resting on his large belly, rubbing the exposed skin with pleasure. “I was?” he asked, feeling more nervous than ever; his chubby hands shaking.

“That pizza cost me $12 and you’ve eaten more than three-quarters of it in just over a minute!” he bellowed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked with disgust.

Mark stood up, panic filling his face. Had he really done that? He tugged at his shirt but it no longer covered even below his hairy belly button. “I have to go!” he mumbled, heading out of the door, feeling more embarrassed than ever. Racing back to his room, he slammed the door shut behind him. How long had he been eating like that? How long had he been unknowingly gorging himself? How had whatever was happening to Chester, begun to creep in Mark’s brain too?

He stared at himself in the mirror: his huge pillowy moobs sagging down onto his wide mountainous belly, stretching across his repulsive middle. Cheese and grease smothered the areas around his gluttonous mouth. So that was how she was doing it, Mark realised, grabbing the roll of fat that was now forming above his own crotch. Mark was linked to Chester, but so was Chester to him. If they were both eating like pigs… He sighed with the realisation. No wonder his gut was already the size of a beach ball!

“Oh just look at my piggy!” Heather called as Mark drifted off to sleep that night. “So fat and round…” she smiled, slipping her thumb into Chester’s cavernous belly button and holding the rest of his belly with her remaining fingers, jiggling it up and down. “Such a good pig!” she laughed, taking his chubby hands and kissing them lovingly. “You’re so close now,” she smiled, reaching for a large tub of whipping cream and pinching the greedy man’s nose to get his mouth open. “That’s right. Get it all down you pig… We want you nice and fat for me….”

Mark didn’t socialise much after that evening. Valentine’s day came and went with Mark thinking back bitterly to the antics that he had got up to the year before. How this last year had changed him. But, as much as he tried to hide in his room, that wasn’t always possible.

Once the Spring equinox came round once again, his ring finger felt numb, with the skin turning a gentle shade of blue. Rushing to the emergency room they took one look at it and set things in motion. “This ring is far too small tutted the nurse. How did you even get it on in the first place?”

“Well I…” Mark began, feeling a little ashamed. “…I’ve put on a little weight sine I bought it.”

The nurse nodded, understanding and glancing at the slab of belly fat that dripped out of Mark’s t-shirt. “Let’s hope this will be a good lesson to you then,” she scowled unfairly, before the man at her side turned on the saw to cut the ring off.

Mark’s brow was sweating. He doubted any of this would work. The ring could not be taken off…

“Yes, the ring cannot be taken off until… it no longer fits you!” whispered the voice of Heather in his head.

As the blade sliced through the metal, Mark felt darkness upon him. His vision blurred and he felt a new presence fill him: Heather’s.

Mark felt nothing. It was as if he had been sleeping for days when he awoke the next morning. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed next to an enormously fat man. He tried to sit up without disturbing the sleeping hog, but the bed squeaked and grumbled under his weight. That was when the lardy man at his side turned over and Mark recognised him as being his former crush, Chester.

Chester smiled, delighted that Mark was awake. “She’s gone,” he said simply. “Heather left this morning. She used you unbind her curse that kept her here. We won’t see her again.”

Mark looked down and saw that he was entirely naked. Both of them were. So why did it feel so good? “She’s gone? Just like that?” he asked, somehow distracted by the sight of Chester’s huge moobs resting on his ginormous belly. He wanted to reach out and touch them, but Chester’s hand was already coming across to him, with a similar fascination towards Mark’s own flabby chest.

“She’s not all bad,” Chester smiled, playing with Mark’s nipple by bouncing it up and down, making Mark pant with the sensitivity of it all. “She made me take a potion last night…” Chester began explaining. “…To make me love my body instead of her,” he sighed, grabbing at the mounds fat that now made up Mark’s sides. “And…damn, do I love it!” he grinned.

Mark smiled. His body was Chester’s body. Whatever Chester had swallowed was having the same effect on him, for he reached his own hand across and started fumbling at the fat man’s jiggly tummy.

“Heather has finished messing with us. We’re here together. Maybe you don’t have to go back to New York straight away?” Chester hinted, as his fingers trickled down to Mark’s groin.

Mark smiled happily. “You’re right,” he sighed, realising that his nightmare might be over. Then he turned and looked at the handsome porker by his side. “But have you ever thought about moving to New York?” he asked, suddenly infatuated with the obese man. “You wouldn’t have to put up with all the people from school tutting about you and, in a city… there’s all the food a pig could ever want!”

Chester’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Well, I could certainly think about it,” he whispered, reaching across for a passionate kiss. “Tell me more about this food. Is it really fit for a pig?”