Fatter - Part 6

Sorry for the delay on this one! Work has been crazy. Hopefully this scene makes up for it :)

I couldn’t believe it. Months of searching, and here he was just standing outside my doorstep. And why was he smiling? 

I couldn’t speak. I just stood there, dumbfounded, mouth open. He started laughing a quiet chortle. I wanted to say something, to beg him to release me from this curse, to give me back some semblance of my old life. 

Instead I just stood there. Wick then placed a finger on my chest, right between the two enormous mounds of my breasts. It sunk in almost up to his knuckles. Then he stopped laughing and stared at me for a few moments.

Then he said: “Fall.” And I did.

It was an odd sensation. Suddenly my legs--which had already been straining beneath girth I’d long since stopped trying to measure--just collapsed under me. Because of the wide curves of my body, instead of falling like a plank of wood, it was more like the rotation of a ball. I rolled to the ground starting with legs, then ass, then love handles. At the last moment it occurred to me this rolling fall would mean my head would strike the ground far faster than it otherwise would. Or the rest of my body would keep it raised up far enough that it wouldn’t strike the ground at all and I’d end up with a wicked case of whiplash.

Neither of those outcomes occurred. Instead, just as I thought my head would strike the ground, I seemed to fall through it like suddenly the world was made of some fluid. Then I was just floating there. I wasn’t drowning, but neither could I move. The normal motions that might have allowed me to swim were impossible at my current size. I just sort of wiggled in place instead, the various rolls and protrusions of myself wobbling and jiggling in an entirely lewd manner.

Then I felt...something. I couldn’t see what it was but it felt like something touching me. A hand. I couldn’t tell from where. I could barely look over my own shoulder, but I didn’t see anyone there in this strange void with me. But I could certainly feel it running around my circumference. The fingers dove into the wide crevice between my sagging belly and my thighs, lifting it gently before letting it fall once again. My entire body rippled in response.

Then more hands. A second, and then a third--the second began exploring the cleft of my ass cheeks, separating them while appreciating their heft from the inside curvature. The third dug further, tickling my asshole for the first time in probably years.

It felt good. I knew logically I should be panicked, but instead I just felt calm. Appreciated. Even slightly aroused.

A fourth hand, beneath and below me, running up my calves. I imagined a voice cooing in appreciation of their size, then again as the hand ran up my thigh. More hands gripped my belly and hoisted, exposing my groin and the second roll of flab that had almost entirely enveloped my cock. More hands pushed it back, and for the first time in weeks my dick felt something other than its fleshy, sweaty prison.

And then another hand tickled the head, then the shaft. I was hard as a rock. More hands gripped my tits, mashed them roughly and pinched nipples the size of small plates. More caressed my sides, the fold that denoted where my chin now connected to my chest, my neck long since buried in lard. 

The fingers dancing along my cock then gripped it. Hard. I burbled out a gasp. They started stroking, digging as far into my flesh as they could. It was the most I’d felt around my dick in ages. I came almost immediately, the white fluid bubbling up from beneath me before dissipating into this strange fluid I was suspended inside.

The hands didn’t relent. They continued their exploration, finding every roll, every fold. One kept circling around my sagging middle--I’d never realized just how enormous I’d become until that moment. How long it took for that hand to complete a revolution--it was like a single finger taking a minute to trace around my old waist.

And it wasn’t the only one. Another traveled up, another down, and another around my chest, my neck, my thighs. It was almost like I was being examined and pleasured at the same time. My every contour mapped for some strange purpose. 

Then I felt something press in between my open cheeks. Then it found my hole. I didn’t know what it was, but it certainly felt… big. Then it pressed in. 

I screamed. It came out as a stream of bubbles, but it didn’t relent. It went in to the very bottom and then stopped. And then it relented, retreated, and pressed back in. I screamed again. The hands all gripped a part of me tightly, squeezing my flab between their ghostly fingers. 

I came again, my prostate getting mashed hard. It had been even longer since anything was able to penetrate me in this way. I came hard a third time, the fluid around me turning white. And then again, and again, until there was only white. And then I woke up.