The Munchies

It was the first time I’d ever tried it. Weed, that is. It’s surprisingly powerful stuff, and it isn’t unusual for some people to overdo it the first time they try it. So, when you read this, please don’t judge me. It wasn’t really my fault. I was just...high.

My roommate baked some stoner brownies to take to a party with her later on. Delicious, creamy chocolate, so dark and rich it made my taste buds sing. There was a slight hint of something different – something of plant origin, if you know what I mean – but that did nothing to overpower the taste. The first bite I took was tentative, but after tasting that beautiful creation, I devoured the rest of the brownie whole.

While my roommate’s back was turned, I quickly stole a second one, and then a third, and shoved the both in my mouth. I swallowed them only moments before she turned around and said, “Careful with them, Tyler. I went a little heavy on the weed. One should be enough, especially for your first time.”

Trying to keep a calm face, I wiped remnants of chocolate from my lips. “Good thing you told me before I took another one,” I said, smiling. “They’re really good.” Without another word, I headed straight to my bedroom and laid down on the bed.

Minutes passed, and my roommate left for her party. Alone, I felt the effects of marijuana wash over me like waves slinking along the shore. It felt good, at first, but as time wore on it grew more and more intense. I’ll admit – I was afraid. Too afraid, in fact, to move from my bed. I was convinced the floor would open up, and hell would swallow me whole.

Before too long, I was asleep. Weird images danced around the insides of my eyelids. Scary, some of them. All of them unsettling. The images flickered and flashed by quickly, shifting unsteadily from one to the next, until finally it settled on something I recognised. Something safe. My bedroom.

Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I felt better. The effects were wearing off, though not yet gone completely. As I sat up, my stomach grumbled. With a smile, I said aloud to myself, “Guess it’s the munchies.”

“Sure is, sugar,” said a voice.
I jumped and looked around. Seated on the bed beside me was a young woman I’d never seen before. She was tall and slim, with flowing red hair and lily white skin. Rubbing my eyes a second time, I tried to clear the mist that hung about her, making her difficult to see too clearly. When it didn’t disappear, I asked her, “Am I dreaming?”

She shook her head, a grin spreading over hazy lips. “Nope.”

“Then who are you? How’d get in my house?”

The woman said nothing, just giggled. Uncrossing her long, lean legs, she stood up from the edge of the bed and left the room. Paused a moment in the door way, beckoning me to follow. As she walked, she left a trail of eerie blue wisps behind. Walking through them, my skin tingled as they wrapped around my waist.

“This can’t be real,” I said.

“Oh, it’s real,” said the woman, turning into the kitchen. “Just like that hunger growing in your belly.”

As if on cue, my stomach growled. She was right – I was starving. Standing perfectly still, I watched as she drew a cupcake from the fridge. Large and made of deep, velvety chocolate, it was coated in thick blue icing. Made out of icing sugar was a small, almost faerie-like creature, oddly resembling the strange woman.

“Care for a bite?”

I wanted to say no. Tried to say no. This was too weird – I didn’t trust this woman. What if she’d poisoned that cupcake? What if this was just a bad trip, and I was about to eat something dangerous or disgusting? Or, it could still be just a dream, despite having that idea refused twice, now.

Opening my mouth, I shifted my lips. Began to form the word “no”. That’s when I noticed the blue mist that had been coiling itself around my waist had not only moved down towards my feet, but upwards, covering my chest, arms, and neck. With my mouth still open, I watched a few smoky wisps disappear down my throat. My body tingled, every nerve alive with an unearthly electricity.

“Yes,” I told the woman. “Oh, God, yes.”

Stepping up to me, her mist mingling with my own, she held the cupcake up to my lips. Taking a huge bite, I felt the smooth, rich flavour dominate my mouth. Closing my eyes, I let myself fall into an ocean of ecstasy. This was the best thing I’d ever tasted. As I swallowed, my tastebuds cried out for more. Opening my eyes, I simply had to look at the woman. Holding the cupcake to my mouth once more, she fed me bite after bite until even the little character on top had disappeared.

“That was incredible, um…” I began. I’d planned on addressing her by name, until I realised I didn’t know it. “What do I call you?”

“Roxanne,” she said, blue eyes shining through the mist. They were the only thing about her that wasn’t clouded. Despite haven’t felt full a moment ago, my stomach grumbled. “Still hungry?”

I nodded. Roxanne moved away for only a few seconds, returning with a chair from the kitchen table. “Sit,” she said.

Taking my seat, I wriggled for a moment, before adjusting my belt. A frown formed on my face. That’s odd, I thought. My belt was loose, earlier. Maybe that cupcake was bigger than I had realised. Shrugging it off, I watched eagerly as Roxanne pulled another cupcake – this one iced in pink and decorated with a plump little pig – and held it up to my mouth.

Chomping straight into it, my mouth exploded with the taste of white chocolate, pierced in the right places with raspberries. I moaned in happiness as I devoured each bite, my stomach filling pleasantly. It felt a little larger than the first one, but the taste kept drawing me in for more. In no time, the cupcake was gone.

Roxanne stood at my side, wiping a few crumbs from my lips. Seductively, she licked her finger clean. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” I nod in satiated agreement, mesmerised by her eyes. “Care for another?”

Before I can think, I’m nodding again. As the woman turns around, the spell from her eyes is broken. For a moment, my head clears just enough to register the tight feeling around my stomach. Looking down, squinting through the mist, I noticed my belly is beginning to press against my buttoned shirt. A small bump – round and smooth – nothing major. Maybe that’s why my belt is feeling tighter.

This time, as she turns around, Roxanne holds a pie in one hand, and whipped cream in the other. I try to protest, saying I was full enough from the cupcakes. Upon making eye contact, however, those protests fall away. I watch eagerly as she douses the pie in whipped cream before setting them both on the bench. Slicing into the pie, she brings the first piece to my lips.

Tearing away a mouthful, the sweet taste of cherries hits me. I moan again – cherries have always been one of my favourite fruits. Mixed in with the whipped cream and pastry, it makes for a flawless dessert. I chew for a long time, savouring each and every bite. With one slice finished, I start on the second, and then the third, and soon the whole thing is gone. My eyes are closed as I fully embrace the final bite. I’m not looking into Roxanne’s eyes.

I can feel how bloated my belly is. How tight my pants are becoming. How my shirt is beginning to stretch over the growing ball around my middle. But it’s not only that. As Roxanne turns away, pulling a second pie from the fridge, I once again squint through the mist. It isn’t just my belly that’s growing. My thighs, which had always fit on chairs with plenty room to spare, were now encroaching the edges, beginning to fight against the seams of my jeans. My arms had thickened, too, right down to my fingers. Moving them to my belly, I noticed that – despite how taut it felt on the inside – it was actually quite soft and doughy. And starting to peak through the gaps in between my buttons.

“Uh…” I open my mouth to protest, but Roxanne slides the first slice of pie straight in. I devour half of it in one go, and the juicy taste of apples sedate me. I don’t try to fight her off as she holds my eyes open with one hand, forcing me to make eye contact. Chomping and chewing and swallowing, I make my way through the second pie just as easily as I did the first.

With my hands still on my stomach, I can feel it expanding with every bite. My shirt begins to shrink, my pants digging into the building fat on my hips. I feel more than see love handles poke out from beneath the hem of my shirt. For some reason, it doesn’t bother me. Instead, it feels kind of funny.

Roxanne dusts her hands of pie crumbs. “How you feeling, sweetie?” she asks, her voice chiming happily.

I wriggle in my chair, feeling the soft flab move as I do so. “Like I shouldn’t have worn a belt,” I joke, still staring into her eyes.
“Poor dear,” she says. Her full lips pull into a tempting pout. A new feeling of excite blooms somewhere in my jeans. Her fingers move towards the belt buckle, brushing against my pudgy stomach. As she undoes the clasp, my stomach sinks forward. “Had a bit too much, have we?”

I blush, embarrassed. Before I can apologise, Roxanne is digging through the fridge. Despite feeling so tight, my stomach is once again demanding more food. Realising that protesting won’t work, I decide just to go with it. How can I resist such a beautiful girl, with such beautiful food, after all?

Looking into her eyes, I stop taking note of the food she feeds me, instead focusing on the flavours. Chocolate, strawberry, peppermint. Peaches make their debut, and apples – sprinkled with cinnamon, this time – come back for an encore. Everything is delicious, wrapped it icing or pastry or cream. I devour bite after bite, somehow becoming more ravenous as time moves on.

Lost in my own world, I take note of my growing body until I hear a loud “Ping!”

Looking away from Roxanne, I notice that one of my buttons has flown across the room. Seconds later, another one follows suit. And then another. The bottom half of my shirt is now open, revealing the mound of flab spilling out over the top of my painfully tight jeans. Massaging it with my hands, I feel how smooth and soft it is. Sparks of excitement flicker through me, stronger by the minute.

The buttons over my newly formed chest are straining. It’s a miracle my pants have held on this long. I notice the button on my jeans had already skittered across the floor without my knowledge, and the zipper had torn open, giving my gut a little more freedom. My thighs, however, are hurting. Stuffed into denim pant legs that will not give way so easily. I groan uncomfortably.

“Poor little piggy,” Roxanne coos, seeing my discomfort. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

More food. And then more. Every flavour beginning to blend into one menagerie of wonderful. My jaw begins to ache with chewing. My stomach, despite not looking it, feels so bloated it my pop. Through shovelfuls of food, I express my concerns to Roxanne. Grabs a platter full of desserts, slides gracefully onto my widening lap, and feeds my while rubbing my belly.

“Don’t chew,” she tells me. “Just swallow.”

I do. I’m eating quicker. Taking larger bites. Attacking the handfuls she feeds me like an animal at the zoo. With my hands on my stomach, I feel myself grow bigger. Roxanne moves out of the way as the last few buttons spring off my shirt, allow my man boobs to sink forward in freedom. Taking a glance down, I see the first hint of my jeans giving up – a small tear on the inseam. Downing another tray of chocolatey delicacies, I hear the wonderful sounds of my jeans tearing into shreds. The fat on my inner thighs pushes my legs apart to make room. Only a small sliver of those colossal tree-trunks actually fit on the chair. I reach out and touch them, feeling their softness. I stroke them, and, for the third time, moan.

Everything is just barely contained in my underwear – for more than one reason.

It doesn’t stop there. I keep eating until the sleeves of my shirt tear, and every last piece of cloth falls away from my body. Even the elastic waistband on my briefs gives up, and they, too, fall to the floor. Once I’m stark naked, Roxanne seems to run out of food.

“Had enough, big boy?” she asks me. I shrug. “Well, I’ve got a different kind of treat for you, if you’re interested.”

My ears prick up at this. Surprisingly strong, Roxanne helps me haul my mammoth body out of the chair, and leads me to the bedroom. She sashays in front, while I waddle heavily behind her, my hips swaying more than hers, brushing against the walls of the narrow hallway.

Laying down on the bed, I watch in anticipation as Roxanne straddles my colossal thighs. I don’t really notice myself – only her – as she slips off the tight black dress before slinking out of her underwear. She’s gorgeous. Tight and toned, her skin a sinfully pure white. Expertly, she moves my stomach to make room for herself down below. Then she grabs my fattened arms and pulls me towards her. Our lips meet.

***

Waking up, I rub sleep from my eyes. “That was a weird freaking dream,” I say to myself. For a moment I lay there, recounting the vivid feeding frenzy. Then I hear footsteps – my roommate is home.

“Oh my God!” she squeals. “Tyler! What happened to you?”

I try to look at her, but something is blocking my view. It takes a few seconds to realise what it is – my stomach. My huge, mountainous blob of a stomach. Looking down at the rest of myself, all I can see is a swollen, flabby version of myself. My hips reach towards the edge of my double bed. My stomach soars towards the roof. My chest is larger than any girl’s I’d ever seen. My arms are like obese pythons wrapped in jelly.

In a panic, I remember what Roxanne had said – that it wasn’t a dream.

Oh, God.