4/4
I glance down at my throbbing cock and am instead greeted with a wobbling dome of fat obscuring my junk. Somebody's hand wraps around my dick, and I throw my head back with a breathy gasp. I moan around another mouthful of bloody steak as somebody starts to tenderly and slowly jerk me off. With every stroke, it feels like my whole body is pulsating with pleasure and warmth, and I suspect that the pleasure is making me expand as well. I never want it to stop, I don't care how fat I get.
My first orgasm of the night catches my by surprise. I gasp roughly and practically see stars as I feel my cock splatter hot ropes against my chunky thigh. Moments later, at least two greedy, giggling mouths lick my sweaty leg clean. Before I can catch my breath, somebody is holding a new slab of meat to my face, and I fully submit to whatever this erotic ritual may yet have in store. The orgy beneath me ceases to feel like a flailing tangle of limbs and more a bed of increasingly doughy flesh, moans and blasphemous cries of rapture muffled by neighboring bodies and my own fatness. Chubby, sweaty hands are now mercilessly force-feeding me, and I can feel my body swelling by the moment. Adoring hands grasp and caress me from every angle, sending jiggles and quakes through my thickening flesh, crashing into the waves of swelling pleasure thrumming out from my belly.
I can't meaningfully move at this point. My belly feels like a waterbed full of jello, my arms are flabby sausages that I can barely lift, and each leg probably weighs more than I did when this insane night began. I'm too lost in the sensations flooding my being to even properly savor the novelty of my massive obesity. I've cum two or three more times by now, my anonymous benefactors adapting their technique to work around or utilize the new puffy fat pad surrounding my insatiable cock.
And still, I expand. My limbs finally outgrow my strength, and the wobbling expanse of my body is squished on all sides by the now-corpulent bodies of the coven. I begin to lose a sense of where my body, or any body around me, begins or ends. I'm engulfed by heaving, sweaty blubber and caged by dozens of pudgy hands. My leviathan stomach is swollen beyond any reason, I'm nearly choking on a merciless onslaught of sublime cuts of meat, I'm utterly helpless within a coven of supersized witches, and it's the greatest moment of my life.
-
I spasm, gasping for air like I've been drowning for an hour. My hands grab desperately, but they feel sinewy and strong once again, and as they sink into familiar fluffy blankets, I realize I'm once again in Rachel's bed. Sunlight streams through the windows in adjoining rooms, and a bird chirps incongruously somewhere in the trees.
As the terror drains from my body, I finally take stock of my situation. I'm in my jeans and T-shirt again, and aside from an overfull belly bulging over the unzipped fly, I don't feel any fatter than usual.
I roll over with a groan, rubbing my discomforted gut, and that's when I see the blood. The dull red stains on my fingers freeze my spine, and the too-salty crust on my lips slaps my senses too. "So that actually happened," I croak to myself. Funny enough, I didn't feel any different after apparently selling my soul. Improbably, my swollen belly grumbles with hunger. Full as I was, I figured this all might make more sense with some breakfast, and I prepared to head down to the kitchen.....