October 2024 Drabbles

It came from the Gut (Weight Gain/ Macro/Alien/ Gas/Musk/Mental)

It had been sixteen days since shit hit the fan in the once sleepy town of Millgates and Steven was no closer to getting out.

Poking his head out of an alleyway, Steven glanced around the vacant streets of his town before creeping out, trying to make as little noise as possible. The young man adjusted the cloth mask over his mouth, eyes alert for any movement. Hopefully, he can salvage some food without catching the attention of the fanatics. Or worse, Irvin.

No, not Irvin. Whatever it was that used to be his friend Irvin. Steven couldn’t help but sigh at the thought, walking past the wreckage of what once was a buffet. The caved-out walls, crushed heating trays and numerous craters told him that ‘Irvin’ had been there. Not helped at all by the lingering stench of sweat and gas.

Adjusting his mask to try and block it out, having learnt the hard way of the effects when Theo and Philip had been caught, stuffed against the bulging body of Irvin as their struggles changed to worshipping the blown-up friend of theirs.

Shuddering as he stepped into an old convenience store, Steven glanced through the picked-over shelves as he recalled the moment Irvin had changed. How the once skinny twink of their group had been complaining about no one looking at him, things changing when he announced he ‘got his wish’ and was eating nonstop. 

Steven grimaced when he thought of how fast Irvin grew. How his lithe body that he was so proud of fattened and swelled. How proud Irvin looked when his flabby moobs and bouncing belly tore open his shirt. How Irvin’s voice grew deeper as he suddenly shot up in height and got to eye level with Steven. Steven blushed a bit as he remembered going over to Irvin’s place. Finding the grown man being fed by three naked men as his immense fat ass covered a three-seater couch.

The last time Steven saw Irvin, or what had his face, was when the then 20ft mega fat man was letting out a deep baritone belch before his ‘followers’ were offering food and sex to him. The once reserved man seemed to puff out more from the attention alone. Even the most heterosexual guys Steven knew were not immune to the changes, stripping down and begging to fuck Irvin’s car-crushing ass, even if it meant either being crushed themselves, or consumed by the inhuman-sized hole.

Shaking his head to try and focus on the tasks he needed, and also to avoid how aroused he felt thinking of Irvin’s fat body, Steven went over to the back of the store, hoping maybe there was something there that could help him. He didn’t even take three steps before he paused, a slight tremor shaking the place.

No… he couldn’t…

But each repeated tremor, growing stronger and stronger only confirmed Steven’s fears. Irvin was coming. Knowing he couldn’t risk going out, Steven headed to the abandoned office and hid under the desk. Steven covered his mouth, having to wait it out and hope the behemoth was passing by, even as the shakes got more and more intense.

His hopes were dashed as the unbearable noise of concrete and metal breaking screeched through the air, forcing Steven to curl up and duck his head as plaster and stone fell to the ground around him. Blinking as the dim light was replaced by the brightness of day.

“Come on out Stevie… you’re missing the fun…” The impossible deep voice forced Steven to peek his head out from the cover, face paling as he looked up at Irvin. 

He had gotten even bigger.

The giant obese man towered high over the wrecked store, the shattered roof in his bloated hand before he tossed his past the rolling hills that were his low-hanging belly and immense moobs. Though Steven couldn’t see, he knew the giant had tossed the stone and metal into his chasm of a mouth, swallowing the inedible matter down and fueling more growth. Taking a shaking breath, watching as Irvin’s tanned body swelled out more as he grew, Steven tried to understand how this could happen. How his tiny friend became a seeming ever-growing colossal, how he gorged on anything like it was a snack, how men worshipped the gargantuan blob of a man whose belches and farts left the town in a near-permanent haze.

And taking another breath, mask forgotten as he watched Irvin’s hand lazily scratch at a stadium-sized belly, slightly translucent with an almost emerald colour. All Steven could think was how handsome his god was.

And how he’ll do anything to make him bigger.

How Dracula got his Brute Back (Muscle Growth/Burtification/Strength/Musk/Hairy)

Abraham Van Helsing knew the evil that was Dracula would not stay gone for long. His ancestors and so many other hunter clans have faced the undead horde and their wicked machinations since time immemorial. The families kept their work up with the horrific beings always returning one way or another. Dracula seemed to be one of the more persistent, somehow being revived or restored within a few generations. 

So, it wasn’t entirely a surprise when the eccentric doctor and vampire hunter had gotten word of Dracula’s return. Albeit, he had hoped it would be a few hundred years, not within three years. 

What was a surprise though was the reports from the villages that the vampiric lord had been taking young men. One would think he was building up an army or such, maybe taking the lesson of his last thralls deaths to instead have strong men in their prime as his foot soldiers. However, the men had been found, albeit drained of everything and left as nought but skeletal husks. Their muscled forms were deprived and drained of the strength that could only have been fostered through years of hard work. Made all the more confusing was the lack of bite wounds on the men, all refusing to explain what had happened.

Passing through the village that had been wrecked by the undead lord’s hunger, Van Helsing gathered his arsenal of weapons. The eccentric doctor set off on the same path the panicked villagers had warned him to stay away from. The trail cutting through the gnarled forest was littered with torn-apart animal carcases leading on to Dracula’s castle. It could be seen as the vampire flaunting his power, leaving breadcrumbs for the hunters to follow. Though the doctor noticed a few of the remains seemed carelessly tossed aside, almost more like the desiccated corpses a cat would leave behind.

Approaching the castle gates, the faint stench of decay grew stronger. The once majestic drawbridge was now a wreck of metal and wood, torn from its hinges with the arch opened cracked from something too large forest through. The full moon cast eerie shadows across the courtyard, where statues of gargoyles and mythical creatures lay broken and toppled. The castle looked more like a ruin than the fortress of the undead it once was. Walking up the stairs towards the torn off doorway, Van Helsing worked his touch over the rosary in hand, mentally preparing for what awaited him.

Abraham felt his heart beat race once he passed over the threshold, his boots echoing through the empty wrecked halls. The air was thick with the scent of dust and the unmistakable odour of musk, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile air outside. He knew Dracula was here, his presence almost tangible in the darkness. Van Helsing’s eyes squinted as the doctor searched the dark surroundings for any sign of movement or possible traps laid. 

Yet, all the doctor found was more wrecked furnishings. More akin to a wild beast raging than the gradual decline brought with age. Van Helsing tried to piece what this could all mean, passing over the smashed remnants of a méridienne and ottoman set, the stained and torn fabric reeking with an odour the good doctor hasn’t encountered outside of certain bathhouses. The doctor flinched as the halls shook, a deep dull thud echoing out with the force telling something immense had been thrown or dropped. Van Helsing turned to try and find where the sudden action came from, following the earth shaking grunts towards an open doorway that Abraham remembered had been to the ballroom. 

Slipping through, all thoughts of conflict or rebuttals to the vampiric lord were thrown out as Abraham Van Helsing took in the being taking up a portion of the expansive room. A being that had most likely been Dracula once.

The towering emancipated Dracula Van Helsing faced was replaced with a body that would put circus strong men to shame with the engorged pale fleshed muscles spread over the immense figure. The scraps of what Vanhelsing recognised as Dracula’s garments clung in the crevices where muscle met muscle, exposing the somehow sweating behemoth’s body. The giant beast let out a guttural moan, unaware of his stunned audience as its immense hands groped and felt the rolling mountains of muscle that composed its body. The doctor realised now why the men in the village were drained of their strength, it all having gone to the already unnaturally strong vampiric lord. The immense behemoth taking an unsteady step, heavy footfall cracking the damaged tiled floor, forcing Abraham to grip the cracked walls as he tried to take in all he could of the oblivious monster. Following the immense legs, thighs and calves thicker than mighty century old trees, Van Helsing felt a mix of relief and oddly disappointment when he saw the obscene bulge of Dracula’s crotch stretching out a loincloth. The stained and tearing fabric that once must have been a bedsheet was the only thing separating the unholy monster’s girth from being exposed to God and Man. 

Moving past the behemoth’s swollen waist and cobblestone like stomach, Van Helsing took in the dense body hair that spread over the engorged Vampire, seeing how it thickened to shrubbery level in the valley between Dracula’s swollen pectoral. Water droplets dripped off the perfectly symmetrical slabs before the striations of muscles branched off at the broad shoulders that were likely the culprits that destroyed Dracula’s doorways. The immense shoulders tapered off at the sides to the vampires’ immense arms, biceps bigger than medicine balls and bulging forearms thicker than Abraham’s own waist pulsing with such strength the good doctor was certain Dracula could demolish the castle with not but a flick of his wrist. 

Turning his gaze back up to the monster’s bulging neck and trapezoids, Abraham blanched as his gaze met that of Dracula’s. The vampires face eerily similar to their last encounter, though the lord’s features were not spared the transformation the rest of his body experienced. His square jaw expanded out into a lantern shape that his thick beard could not hide. The thickened bone brushing against the top of Dracula’s chest. If not for the stain of blood trailing from the beast’s mouth, Van Helsing would assume the vampire would be unable to eat at all. Dracula’s mouth showed his fangs had grown, along with a bottom set poking out of his swollen lips, reminding the doctor of a boar’s tusks as Abraham focused back on Dracula’s eyes.

Though the red orbs shined with their usual uncanny appearance, giving the doctor a sensation of prey before a predator, Abraham noticed they lacked the usually callousness of the monster. Infact, Abraham noticed something else. Something more… no, it couldn't.

“STRIP…” The immense Dracula commanded, his voice rumbling out as if it came from the earth itself. The powerful undead lord takes steps closer to the doctor, eyes burning with an intense hunger as his earthshaking gait kept Van Helsing from sprinting. Taking a cautious step backwards, Abraham looked up to the monstrous Dracula, trying to understand what could have changed the normally wellkept denizen so radically. Trying to control his breathing and ignore the denser stench in the air, Abraham noticed an oddly white shine on the corner of Dracula’s mouth, before his attention was ripped from the vampire’s oddly handsome face, to a tearing sound that came from the behemoth’s groin. 

… Well, Van Helsing now understood both why the village men lacked bite marks, and why many were uncomfortable sitting down.

In Space, No One Hears You Grow (Marvel AU/ Weight gain/ Forced/ Expansion)

With the heroes of earth having finally subdued the villain known as The Chef, it was the general expectation that the fattening troubles were over. The heroes trying to work off the excess tonnage, well those who wanted to, and the world would move on.

Alas for those who were spared from The Chef’s Corpulent Capers, this hope of remaining thin was gone as they had learnt of the earthbound villain’s brother. A co-conspirator who had shared in his brother’s plumping concoctions and goals, yet found the scope of Paul’s goal and the available ingredients they had to be far too limiting. As such the fat obsessed Guy Andeirs, taking on the title of ‘The Culinarian’, left the bonds of earth and sailed through the stars, searching for men who he can grow to sizes fitting of the space faring villain’s dreams. 

And the Culinarian has found his latest target whilst touring through an intergalactic market, finding some of the ingredients he needed for his experiments. Picking out a batch of Fractile Fungi from the mines off the Bode’s galaxy, the Culinarian spotted his quarry strolling through the market with his retro cassette player. Seeing the self-titled guardian of the galaxy, Starlord the human.

Well, the Culinarian had been rather disappointed seeing the fit-looking man, especially when he learnt Quill had been the son of a literal planet. So really, Guy couldn’t be blamed for wanting to help congratulate the hero with a feast fitting of his father’s size. Especially when Peter was so eager to accept Guy’s offer for a meal.

Guy wondered when Quill realised the fattening plan. Could it have been when the space-faring hero was given his fourth helping, still hungry for more? Was it when his shirt began to tear open from the expansion of fat coming off him as he gorged more? Or maybe it was when the portly Peter’s body crashed to the ground, passing the one-tonne mark as the Culinarian shoved a hose into Starlord’s bloated mouth, forcing more and more of the fattening concoction into the growing hero’s frame. Fat rolls expanded and multiplied with each moaning gulp Peter took, spreading out more and more as he grew. His wobbling belly bursting passed the size of an earth car as it swelled out before him. Quill's limbs thickened out, lengthening too both with the concoction ensuring the ‘victim’ grew, but also as his father’s genes helped fuel the growing man’s size. Guy himself took what could only be the best seat, perched atop Quill’s enormous ass cheeks as the fattened-up hero gorged and grew. Immense fat rolls spread out, outgrowing the warehouse the Culinarian had housed the hero as the market took in the sight of the hero they always said was full of hot air. 

Whilst Guy would have relished the chance of growing Starlord to true planet size, the flab-obsessed villain could only settle for a mountain sized blob before he had to flee, catching sight of the engorged leader’s team from his seat atop Quill’s fat rolls.

Though the Culinarian mentally planned out the perfect menu for the other guardians. He was sure Rocket wouldn’t turn up the chance to get truly big.