Witcher weight gain shorts

[Guest fatlover123456]

3 hours ago, xXWWhiteXx said:

Seeing as you finished your latest witcher story, please would you consider continuing at least side story part of this one - personally i come to like parts about Keira more than the main story.

I second this. 

[Batman76]

Pffftt.

 

 

Fine.

[Batman76]

I'll try and finish up the Keira story at least. Might be a while.

[Batman76]

The start of December turned the trees bare as skeletons and the fields white with snow.

Despite the war, now being waged to the north, life in the town went on: a harvest  had been brought in, carefully hidden casks of ale and beer tapped and the villagers built a great wicker man in the center of the town to represent the old year being destroyed. Wrapped in a coat and blanket, Keira Metz sat on porch behind her house, watching the wicker statue rise up and supposing she should write it down. If the war ever ended and the magical pogroms ceased then she could get back to teaching and write a book about it all.

'Peasantry at first hand,' the blonde sorceress mused, 'or 'My time Among the Unwashed.' or 'Village of the Plump.'

She could write it all down she guessed, but Keira was mentally tired. Every day the last few weeks had involved fixing a small plague of rinder pest that had hit the village cow herd, she'd managed to save them but at the cost of much of her sleep. Curing a cow took as much as curing a rich noble's gout, more even, and Keira would usually have charged a fortune for it all.

And she'd been paid a village's version of a fortune, she reflected, putting a thick slice of sharp blue cheese spread over crusty bread into her mouth, feeling the bitter sharp tang across her tongue. The blonde smiled as it went down and then she cut off another slice from the brick sized chunk sitting in her lap and the big loaf of bread on her door. She was half way through the brick but had no need to ration it, her little cabin practically bulged with food to the point she'd started to hang sausage links up in her hot tub garden pocket dimension. After being so hungry on the road Keira hated throwing anything out but couldn't eat the bread she was paid with fast enough.

'Where are they getting all of this?' Keira questioned again, seeing a line of buff wood cutters tramp down the road into town, none of them starving.

She let her mind indulge in some fantasies, buccolic hicks they might be but muscles were muscles and Keira, used to a noble suitor's ardent worship every night, was in a three month dry spell. Her face was starting to redden, from seeing bare arms as much as the budding chill, when she noticed she had another visitor coming up the road.

'Well well,' Keira smiled, standing up and putting away her food, 'I've got a visitor.'

She ducked inside her cabin, literally ducking some sausage and wrapped sausage and cheese in cloth, and summoned a mirror to adjust herself. Keira had started wearing her hair pulled back, like a proper house wife, so she removed the bun and made her hair curl down to her soft shoulders, pale gold and luxuriantly thick. She looked her face over and added some of her stored make up so her eyes would pop and her lips shine, smiling when she was done. All that food had filled her face back out...and then some.

The sorceress was a messy eater when no one was watching, she had to evaporate the crumbs from her dress and cleavage, and then teleported the shapeless peasant dress off her body with her sole good dress appearing in its place. She'd summoned it without its laces done, knowing from experience that it was a bad idea, and quickly tied it off, making the blue gown figure hugging and flattering. Looking herself up and down, Keira was fully satisfied...to a degree.

Sorceress' were perfect. They might have red curls or long raven locks or waist length blonde waves, but their hair was perfectly coiffed and splendidly elegant. Their faces might be freckled ovals or tan hearts, but they were smooth, youthful and flawless. And their bodies...might be dainty and slender like Yennefer or lean and athletic like Triss or even full and plush like Keira had been.

Had been.

'If an apple a day keeps the doctor away,' Keira sighed, putting her hands on her hips, 'what's a couple pies a day keep away?'

Hands went to her hips, feeling their suet softness, running up and down at the ripe, overly broad slopes. Keira twisted around, side rolls of fat forming and glanced at her equally inflated backside, a comfy, chair filling caboose that wasn't exactly what the nobility clamored for. In the front she hefted her chest, stalled out at very heavy E cups that were white as the snow outside and starting to settle despite her artificial youth. Beneath them bulged her tummy, all her lazy days and heavy dinners having built up her normally slightly plush at its biggest stomach into a considerable gut. There wasn't a hint of tone or firmness to it and yet it was big as a bowling ball. Her arms had fluffed up, becoming beefy and marbled, while her thigh gap had been annihilated, turning into meaty pillows of lard.

'Boys and girls both?' she asked herself, tapping the melted ice cream sprawl of her full second chin and taking in her apple cheeks, 'well maybe not in this town...'

A knock sounded on her door and Keira startled, jumping almost and landing with a thud. She smoothed her skirts, ended the mirror and hurried to the door, pushing her stomach out a little. When she opened it, a blast of chilly air and Bridgette stepped in.

'Bridgette, what a surprise!' the over plump Sorceress smiled, her dimples in full, devastatingly cute effect, 'and I see you've brought some food...'

Bridgette the smith was the same as she'd been: tall, pretty as a fresh forged sword and harder than an anvil. As she doffed her coat, Keira felt a twinge of lust at seeing her steel cast biceps and chiseled triceps, orders from the Nilfgardian army keeping her busy and fit.

'I knew everyone in town was busy getting ready for tonight's feast. I figured you might like a snack first before going over, just a shepherds pie...with an apple pie,' Bridgette said, looking down at her handiwork, 'I thought you might need some.'

Keira wasn't recognizable as the gaunt, dusty refuge who'd staggered into Midcopse thanks to sixty five pounds worth of hearty food. The city born sorceress had a prosperous farm wife's immense tits and the kind of hips that could bear six babes without complaint, complete with a gluttonous belly proclaiming to the world how looked after she was. Everything that was hard was soft, everything that was narrow was broad and everything thin was plump.

'Good idea, I'm almost wasting away in this cabin,' Keira said, casting her blue eyes at the cornucopia she lived in, 'let me get some sides going and we can talk properly...'

A few finger snaps later and potatoes were boiling while a pudding started right next to it. Keira poured some cider, giggling as the bubbles touched her tongue, while Bridgette just watched her, shaking her head in amazement.

'Never gonna get used to seeing magic like that,' Bridgette admitted as the potatoes mashed themselves and the pudding poured itself into a bowl, 'I thought it was magic just to make steel and here you can just manipulate the elements at will.'

'Its all physics dear, physics and metaphysics and will power and genetics,' Keira said forking pounds of potatoes into her mouth, 'I for instance have the genetics for magical power so I can cast magic as long as I eat enough.'

'Oh...you must have worked up quite an appetite after all that,' Bridgette said, cutting the pie and placing a massive slice on Keira's plate.

'Why I think you're right...,' Keira grinned, at both the food and her corded companion.

For a woman who liked being plush, who had through tightening waist bands and straining seams eaten herself from a curvy 140 to a positively fat 175lbs, Keira mostly liked her lovers hard. Fit, corded and buff and while her tastes ran to men four times out of five, she found plenty alluring about the town smith. Two hours of being fed and stuffed to the brim, of her stomach gurgling with excess, of her dress being stretched taut as a drum over her considerable gut led to a drunken stumbling to the bedroom.

Hot passionate kisses running up taut abs and squishy thighs, of laces being swiftly undone, of the creak and groan of Keira's bed before the sorceress levitated them both up into a more comfortable position. Keira's heavy, sensitive tits being teased and caressed, of her own tongue trailing down Bridgette's abs to find her sweet, sweaty sex.

'You first tonight,' Keira insisted to her taller, more powerful companion, levitating the tall peasant woman up and finding that hot sweetness between her hard thighs.

Her tongue pushed and prodded Bridgette's clit, while her own soft hands found the heavy sensitivity of her breasts. It took a while for both of them to come due to the chill, but after moans and groans and near screams Bridgette's hard thighs flexed around Keira's head and she smiled, pouring magic into her ...well she wasn't sure yet, but she made that clit thrum. Bridgette, horny as all hell from watching the sorceress glut herself, went off like a fire work. She came kicking and writhing, putting Keira in danger of a broken neck, as the sausages and cheese shook on the walls, something Keira noticed, before she slumped into a dozed half unconsciousness. Keira, panting and sore, lowered them both down to the bed which groaned beneath their combined weight.

'Oh Gods...oh Gods...is it like that for everyone you have sex with?' Bridgette moaned.

'...only if they're special,' Keira panted, sweat pouring off her body.

The sorceress was really out of shape anymore for that amount of sex to tire her out. But it had brought her closer to what she wanted.

'You next...' Bridgette groaned sleepily, already half out.

'I need a drink first, else I'll pass out completely,' Keira admitted, swaying from the bed room and into the kitchen area and pouring some more cider into a rough wooden cup, 'want one?'

'Ugh, can't get too drunk before the festival,' the smith groaned, but she didn't reject it when the sorceress brought her a cup.

'Can't get dehydrated either,' Keira said, smiling as Bridgette drank it down.

Keira liked Bridgette. Liked how neatly she set up her forge. How smartly she organized the town. How ...generous she was with a tongue. So when the tall smith blinked  and dropped the cup to the floor, she felt a little bad.

'What's...oh...what's....,' Brigette groaned as she collapsed onto the bed, soon snoring deeply.

'Sleeping drought. Sorry to do it love, but you could use a nap I'm sure,' Keira said, standing up and summoning her dress, 'but I have so many questions about this town.'

Keira summoned a dress for herself, a maiden's holiday gown of soft red wool that made the fat sorceress look like a plump cranberry. It was snugger round the belly than she remembered when it had been made for her, but she'd let herself go quite thoroughly as Bridgette had fed and fattened her. A sorceress' most powerful trait was that they combined a twenty year olds looks with a ninety year old's cunning and Keira had noticed she was being fed up as soon as she'd started to get the hint of a tummy. She'd let it continue until this midwinter's festival, party out of gluttonous enjoyment but mostly because she had an ulterior motive.

'Now that you're out on your ass and the whole town is about to be drunk,' Keira smiled, struggling with her belt, 'its time for me to find out where all this food is coming from.'

[Batman76]

I'm honestly surprised that I wrote this tonight (had planned starting on knocking some writing.com ideas into another DC story) but what happens happens.

[Batman76]

Time in the village had given Keira a lot of experience. She was betting at fixing minor cuts and bruises than she'd ever been and could literally write the book on diseases of rural live stock. She could diagnose a pregnancy just by the tilt of a woman's smile the morning after conception and guess at what rodents were infesting a house without using magic. She was perhaps the best and most over qualified village witch in the history of the world and moreover knew how to move and act like a celebrating peasant.

The once elegant Keira Metz, advisor to kings and lover to merchant princes, slid easily through the crowd as one more anonymous peasant woman.

But if that time had given it had also taken and what it had taken was any hint of wind, stamina or physical endurance. Keira no longer resembled either posh sorceress nor road hardened refugee after two months of hand feeding and almost no physical exertion. Her hardy muscles had deflated from lack of use while her wind had crumbled down so she began huffing in cold winter air through her mouth less than two hundred yards from her house.

No more was she fit, slender, slim or lean or any other adjective used to describe a Sorceress. Nor was Keira curvy, voluptuous or even thick as she typically got this time a year when she took off her weight loss charm and at till sick at every banquet she was invited to. No, after two months of every woman in this whole village conspiring to sculpt the glamorous new town wise woman into shape so round even the chubby chasing menfolk of the town would ignore her, Keira Metz was obese.

She was nearly a hundred and eighty pounds on a short frame, having glutted herself into a diet that added a new pound every single day. A lot of weight had gone to her breasts, which now pulled at her shoulders mercilessly and bounced painfully if she ran...not that she could. The little woman's mound she liked to have had sprawled into a heavy gut that had begun sagging from the pull of gravity, bounding on the tops of her thighs as it slowly oozed toward an apron shape. Trim, strong thighs had ballooned out into weak, waddling hamhocks and Keira felt her inner legs chafing from the rubbing.

Despite the cold, Keira soon found herself sweating under her coat and breathing heavy. She took a breather at the first bonfire she found, one of many littered about the town square before the great wicker man, and accepted a jug of sugary apple cider that made her head spin. It was pretty pathetic to need a drink after half a mile but Keira had to tell herself she couldn't go around thinking like a slim, fit woman anymore. Even if this was temporary, right now she was plenty big and needed to treat herself delicately.

She didn't need to be a doctor to diagnose her own elevated blood pressure or that her cholesterol was getting up there. Gaining a pound a day for sixty some days in a row hadn't allowed her muscles time to get use to the weight, especially when her hardest exercise anymore was lifting spoon from her plate to her mouth. No, best to take this slow.

Keira finished her glass and sent out a magical pulse, searching for any artifacts and frowned when she didn't find any. That annoyed her but it didn't mean it wasn't there, there were ways of hiding them and if she suspected correctly it would be very strong indeed. No, she'd need to do this the old fashioned way: by following the food.

She went from the bonfire full of snuggling, kissing couples into a dancing ring around a long table of cookies and treats. Three passes and an equal number of short make out sessions found her munching a brownie and out of breath, finding the treat luke warm. Another dance found the out of shape sorceress panting hard, unable to keep up with the fit young men and relatively slender maidens, holiday dresses snug around soft starter bellies and new double chins showing as they smiled, of her age group. These were the young getting ready to be married, the girls just starting to pad out for their wedding gowns.

When she stumbled out and towards the meat plate, she gave herself some credit that she wasn't actually 19 but a hundred years past that. And resolved to get some more steps in soon...after she helped herself to three or four or five heavy plates of fresh bread, sliced ham, scalloped potatoes and casserole. Keira's stomach had been full when she started, but the waddling mage appeared ready to give birth when her fork finally fell. She supposed she could have only had three plates instead of five but it had been very good and she didn't feel quite so fat when among the young mothers, women who'd already birthed a child or two and were almost all carrying yet another. The sorceress wanted desperately to fall asleep in her chair but she forced her self to her feet, having to slide her widened buns out of the armwrests. The food here was warm and fresh, but not piping hot.

She stumbled on, one hand under her heavy gut and the other in her lower back to support herself, looking like the most pregnant woman in the circle. The holiday dress, already snug, was now halfway outgrown, the buttons gaping and seams pinching, cold air tormenting her tubby belly. But Keira went on, knowing that this was her chance and that she couldn't risk a flash of magic to ease her torment.

Keira found her quarry on the desert table, surrounded by the real heavy weight eaters: women of around thirty or so who'd ballooned. These were the richer peasant women, ones who chores didn't give even a pretense of fitness. Not like the fat farmers wife, wide as an ox and as strong, these women were swollen sows near as wide as they were tall. Stiff, clumsy and weak, who spent all day on their ass eating.

It was to her minor distress she piled more steaming hot pies and piping hot cake onto her plate than any of them as she waddled to her seat. Maybe it was just the mood, the cold holiday air and her orgasm mixing. Maybe she'd always been a glutton and now it was unleashed and unrestrained.

But holy crap was this food good.

A diet and diet potions and exercise and muscle amulets and weight loss charms would have to follow. Else by mid year she'd be so fat she couldn't walk, so fat she couldn't get out of her bed, so fat she couldn't move. But that was all for later. Right now, Keira had to finish this pie, that cake, this custard and that cobbler and then solve this mystery.

The voracious matrons went over the table like a swarm of locusts, emptying it out in moments just as Keira was debating getting seconds. One rang a little bell exposed by the culinary holocaust and soon after a rotund figure came huffing and puffing with a tray of piping hot pies. Keira had to blink to recognize the woman.

At the end of spring, Mahalia Roseborn had been perhaps the prettiest girl Midcopse had ever produced. With a heart shaped bottom and slim curvy legs beneath her tiny waist, so small one could put both hands around it, and pert D cups, willowy arms and a delicate freckled face topped with hip length crimson curls and set with huge green eyes, Mahalia had been a god's gifted beauty and knew it. The most popular girl in town, if by no means the brightest, she'd caught many an eye and flirted voraciously, a general in the Nilfgardian army offering her and her parents a hundred pounds of silver to have her be his courtesan. Maybe it was to protect the wide eyed innocent from the world, maybe it was jealousy but the feeding had started the day after. Everywhere Mahalia had looked there was pie and the slim beauty, fair as a sorceress before any enhancement, had found her fabled looks softening by the minute.

By the end of June, the perfect beauty was a little chubby, with a fresh double chin, cellulite on her now girthy hips and a little tummy. The village women had decided that was enough, but they'd unleashed a monster. Now used to constant gorging, the still sought after girl had let it be known she'd roll in the hay with anyone who'd brought her a pie and by the end of the summer was sixty pounds heavier than when it had started.

When Keira had first met her in October she'd been heavy as Keira was now, a big bellied, fat hipped ruin of her slender beauty. Still with a few suitors true, but even in Midcopse there were limits and while a married man should appreciate a substantial wife, a bachelor wanted a girl who could still dance and swim and frolic, with an extra inch or three to pinch true but not much more. Now though...it was good Mahalia had been married to the son of the local miller (not a handsome man like she'd had in droves a year before, but kind and rich enough to support his useless wife) for she was a huffing, puffing balloon, seeming more prize live stock than prize beauty. Why anyone had ordered her to keep the desert table stocked baffled Keira, for she looked unsuited to any task that involved not eating.

Appetite exacerbated by a pregnancy, the former maiden's tiny waist flapped against her knees, almost wholly exposed because half her buttons had come undone. Her plump breasts were like grain sacks, both in size and general shape, hanging from swollen shoulders, with forearms thick as her old thighs and biceps thick as her old hips. Her glamorous face was like a pumpkin, swollen, red cheeks hanging as jowls and her big, innocent eyes grown piggish and exhausted.

It made the sorceress feel a little bad for eating so much. Not enough to make her not grab another slice each of cake, pie and cobbler (one had to keep up appearances after all) but when the sweating, obscenely fat Mahalia waddled off, she had a puffy silhouette following her.

Still eating of course.

[Batman76]

Keira really should have guessed that Mahalia's wobbling ass cheeks, pressed against a skin tight skirt transparent with sweat even on a cold night, would lead her to Bridgette's house. If she could lift her leg high enough without falling over, the obese mage would have kicked herself. Of course it would be in Bridgette's house, she'd felt the tingle of Bridgette's untrained magic at the first touch, if anyone had a magical artifact it would be an untrained sorceress!

'Could have spared myself all this feeding,' she whispered between a munch of pie, feeling a touch of cold air on her spherical gut that signified a button or two had given way.

Damn, buttons were expensive. Also, she'd eaten herself out of a dress that would have fit like a tent that summer. Keira looked down, seeing only her pale E cups in the moonlight and the troll-like gut she was carrying around. If Yennefer, known for her struggles with infertility, had seen her now, and ignored the budding triple chin and rasping thighs, she'd have assumed the spherical mage was expecting multiples and felt immense jealousy before realizing it was all due to Keira's terrible diet. Any other sorceress would have immediately laughed.

'This is going to be a bitch to lose,' she muttered, 'but its just one binge.'

It really would be a bitch to lose. She'd have to go down to...well, probably less than she ate in one meal a day anymore. If her dawn to past dusk binges could ever be divided into individual meals. Her four food groups had become sausage, cheese, pie and bread, high in fat and salt, turning her bigger and lazier every day, taking her past the point of pleasantly plump and warning her that health issues would be in her future.

For instance, no woman her apparent age should have so much trouble going a hundred yards up a short slope, but Keira was sweating just as much as the lardass in front of her. And Mahalia was so fat that if she'd squeezed into Keira's elegant practice for a diagnosis of any health issue, Metz would have told her to make urgent and immediate lifestyle changes and put her on a starvation diet of bread and water. Yet here she was, just as out of shape, stuffed to the point of vomiting and she could swear she was still hungry!

'I may have given myself an eating disorder playing along with this,' Keira admitted mentally, 'and really, if I hadn't had to walk so far tonight I would have minded it...at least this will be a good wake up call...'

At last reaching the end of the hill, the painfully stuffed sorceress ducked behind some crates to see Mahalia push her cart up to a previously hidden entrance. Keira recognized dormant enchantment magic, unless a very powerful wizard was right in front of it and looking for it specifically it would never be noticed. She saw Mahalia squeeze in and then after a few minutes squeeze back out, pushing a cart groaning with steaming pies with one hand and stuffing cheese cake into her mouth with the other.

'Bingo,' Keira smiled, waiting the long wait for Mahalia to waddle past and then hurrying as fast as her plump legs could take her.

Dipping into the smithy's hidden basement, Keira saw a vast horn, one too big to have come from any normal animal. Only a greater dragon could have grown something so immense, a swirling twist of golden bone wrapped with silver bands and bearing glowing runes of Skellige magic. Keira, sow fat and stuffed, could have slid into it...if cakes weren't falling slowly from it and onto another tray. She stopped dead in her tracks, made mute by the most powerful magical artifact she'd ever seen.

And a knife at her throat.

'I had a feeling you'd come here,' the smith said into Keira's ear, one sinewy hand over her mouth, 'I'm gonna move my hand, no magic or...well, you're a smart girl.'

'Why didn't the sleeping drought work?' Keira asked.

'It did work, I slept near two hours. Honestly I'm surprised you weren't here when I got here!' the smith told her.

'Oh...I did get a bit distracted,' Keira admitted, as her half exposed gut rumbled at the sight of nearby, unconsumed desert.

'You know when the other village women said they wanted to fatten you up, I thought you'd figure it out a lot quicker,' Bridgette said, realizing she was drooling at being pressed close to so much engorged enchantress, 'and be really angry. Sorceress' are supposed to be vain.'

'I'm very vain. I'm also very hungry and well, you've made me feel rather appreciated even as I got heavier,' Keira admitted, guessing her throat wasn't going to be slit, 'and while I figured it out rather quick, well. It was a nice vacation to my surprise and I didn't want it to end. I've never really gotten why we're all so thin anyway. Sorcresses are rich, we should show it. Maybe not this big but, well, maybe this big.'

'You're not mad?' Bridgette asked in amazement.

'Maybe that your house is so far up hill,' the tubby sorceress said, 'and at myself for not putting on at least a little muscle under this fluff. So, what's the story with the horn?'

'It's my grandmothers. She was a famous raider in Skellige, killed a sea giant to get this horn, enchanted to produce as much food as any who could work its magic wanted. Lucky for her she was a latent mage, unlucky for her she was shipwrecked her in the swamp. Lost their weapons and kept their horn. The local hicks wanted to string up she and her crew of girl pirates but, it was the middle of a famine and she told them she could keep them all alive if they helped her out by building a ship over winter. The locals kept their word but well, we can both guess what happens when you have all the food you want and are an exotic beauty eh? More fun to roll in the hay with your pick of the local lads and lasses than train, skip a few weeks at the sword, eating your fill every night and suddenly its no fun to huff and puff at what used to be easy. Then after a month when your monthly visitor isn't coming and you realize it won't be back by for most of a year, then at the end of that you're fifty pounds fatter with sore tits and a wee one, well, it was time to kiss the pirate life good bye. By spring time they were she wolves no more, but big fat farm wives with b**s on the way, every one of em. Grandma might have gotten too fat for her armor and sword belt but she kept her wits, her husband the smith was the village chief by the time she gave birth and she passed her wits and her touch down the female line to me.'

'Letting yourself go in a rural hamlet with too much food?' Keira asked, patting her own globular gut, 'perish the thought. Say, can I set down? I'm very out of shape and hungry.'

'What if you magic me?' Bridgette asked warily, 'you're a mage right? You've got to be here seeking the horn!'

'Bridgette, for as smart and cunning as you are I forget you aren't college educated,' Keira sighed, with a small motion of her fingers paralyzing her lover/kidnapper and levitating the air.

'I could destroy everyone in this village at will, could with a knife to my throat,' the blonde sorceress explained, sitting her sprawling buttocks onto a chair by the horn and picking up an entire chocolate pound cake, 'but I won't. Because vain and luxury loving slut that I am, I like helping people. I'm not an artificer, I'm a doctor and a teacher.'

She released Bridgette, who stared at her in shock, and went on, 'The only thing I'd take away from this village is ten or twenty dress sizes depending on how long I stay. And given that I like being pampered, well, I'm in no hurry to ever go. You on the other hand...'

'What about me?' Bridgette asked warily, staring at the blubbery woman who nonetheless had her at her mercy.

'Are far, far too intelligent to be just a black smith who works a magic horn that keeps her townsfolk unrealistically plump,' Keira went on, pulling up slices with her hand and shoving them into her mouth, 'you have the genes of a first rate magician and the brains too. Now, I'm bored out of my mind which probably partly explains why I'm going to be two hundred pounds by the new year. So here's my proposition: since there's no magical college open due to the war, you become my apprentice. I'll teach you how to be a sorceress and you can defend this town from any army short of ten thousand men while staying as young and fit as you want to boot.'

'A sorceress?' Bridgette asked, daring to hope.

'Hell, you could travel the world. Go where you want do what you want, fuck any boy or girl you please,' Keira went on, 'but there's a price.'

'I'm sure,' the smith said sourly, waking up from the dream, 'you can't have the horn. This town would starve without it, fat idiots or not!'

'I don't want the horn bridgette, I'm I managed to find the remaining lodge of sorceresses with this thigh thickening nightmare behind me, they'd crucify me after a week,' Keira snorted, finishing her cake, 'It might help the world avoid starvation but it'd ruin the figures of every sorceress on the planet and they'd rather the world explode than that. No, what I'm going to want is a lot of personal pampering: belly rubs, massages, hand feeding, and a cart for when I need to go into town, some better fitting clothes and a more supportive bra, some high quality wine from this and a promise to only make this thing produce salad if I get too much above three hundred pounds before you're done training.'

'...that's it?' Bridgette asked, 'for... for me becoming a mage? For me becoming almost immortal?'

'Of course not!' Keira said, trying to push herself up and finding herself too tired and far, far too full, fifteen thousandish calories gurgling in her belly, 'Sex. You're doing me what? Once a day? What are you, a nun?'

'That's not a lot?' Bridgette asked.

'No, its not a lot,' Keira told her, 'I'm going to want at least three orgasms a day, from  you. And if you want to invite a boy or four or maybe a few women who are fatter than me, that'd be nice too. Watching that Mahalia's big ass jiggle all night has put me in the mood for being the smaller partner for once, you don't have to if you don't want to but I'm a sophisticated woman who needs some variety.'

'So, all you want for training me to be a sorceress is a lot of food, nicer clothes, booze and sex?' Bridgette asked.

'And some pampering!' Keira insisted, crossing her arms across her sweat glistening breasts.

'Keira, I think we have a deal,' the former blacksmith and now trainee mage smiled, holding out her hand.