The girl sitting opposite me is cute, smart and funny. I’m having a really great time with her, and thus, I don’t feel guilty at all for ghosting that other girl on Tinder. That one was a bit clingy and was telling me about how she was a witch or something...? So, total nutcase. I didn’t even reply to her last text message, just left her on read and went out on a date with someone else. She is clearly a much better choice than that "witch".

The dinner goes really well, until we order dessert. While we wait for it to arrive, I feel a strange tingling sensation in my belly. I ignore it at first, but then it becomes stronger, until I can feel it all over my body. It’s not necessarily painful, but it is very strange and uncomfortable, and my date notices my discomfort as well.

"You okay?" She asks, face concerned. I force a smile onto my face, while the tingling becomes stronger in my body.

"Yeah, I just need to hit the restroom. I’ll be right back." I tell her, clutching my waist as I rise to my feet and rush to the bathroom.

Luckily there’s no one inside, so I shut myself into one of the stalls, letting out a long breath. I feel so weird and sick, and I have no idea why. Maybe the steak I had was a bit raw? Or I had too much wine? I just hope I will feel a bit better in a few seconds, so I can go back to my lovely date.

My stomach churns a little, and I plaster a hand over it- and to my surprise, it feels soft under my hand. I frown, looking down. There is a tiny paunch under my suit, which doesn’t make any sense- I didn’t eat that much, after all. My eyes widen in shock when that small bit of softness pushes against my hand, growing a couple more inches right there.

Okay, I must be going crazy. Maybe I really had too much wine. My belly rounds a bit more, until it’s actually noticeable as a weight pulling down on my dress shirt.

"What the fuck…?" I whisper, then gasp when I notice a tiny roll on my waist. What is that? That hasn’t been there before! Something is not right.

I blink once, twice, trying to wake up from this weird fever dream as my thighs start thickening, closing the gap between them. My pants are getting a bit tighter over my butt, and- oh god- are these boobs?! Man-boobs?! What the hell is going on?
"Oh my God!" I choke as my belly rounds some more, growing under my dress. My new breasts are swelling slowly, rolling over onto my stomach, fat and flabby, nothing like my date's. I look down on my arms in disbelief- they are slowly thickening, getting padded. My slim fingers are filling out, turning into little sausages.

Holy shit. I’m getting fat- I’m getting fat in the matter of seconds!

I desperately grab at my sides, which are slowly getting buried under fat rolls- my waist gives place to soft love handles. I want to scream, but I don’t want to bring attention to myself, and my growing body.

I touch my face, cursing when I feel chubby cheeks under my fingers. There’s a double chin forming as my jaw softens, I can feel it jiggling slightly when I shake my head in disbelief. What had previously been pecs are filling into piping bags of heavy cream, sagging from the added weight. I nearly lose my balance as my belly goes through another growth spurt- I look obese now!

My dress shirt is suffocating me as my body fills it more and more. The seams on the side are starting to struggle as my abdomen widens. I can see tiny holes forming where the stitches are pulled tight, about to rip open. And the belt- it's strangling my legs as it wages war with my new love handles. 

"No, no..." I whimper, grabbing at my body, trying to stop it from growing somehow, but it is futile. My thighs press together, and my shoes suddenly feel tighter as even my feet get padded with fat. I can feel how heavy my body is becoming- I’m probably packing on forty kilos right now, out of nowhere, maybe even more. My breathing gets heavier as I struggle with all that added weight. I wobble on my feet, having to grip onto the wall to keep myself steady.

My shirt and belt double-team, finally giving up at the same time. There’s a loud tearing sound, and my fat rolls spill out in a very embarrassing manner, flopping over my underwear as my pants split and fall down to my ankles. I whimper as my body aggressively expands, eradicating the remains of my outfit. The flabby boobs of an obese man sit on my belly, bare for all the world to see. I can’t look behind me, but I can feel fat rolls spurting out of my back.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I moan when I look at my belly. It’s so huge, I can’t see my feet from it. My hips are pulling the elastic of my underwear tight, and it’s no surprise they snap right off, unable to handle my gain. I can't help but think, looking down at all this blubber, how much I look like that fat chick. Even my nipples are fatter somehow, puffier, feminine-looking. 

I’m so heavy, I want to sit down and rest but I can’t. I don’t even know how to move all this mass. I can’t see the ground from the giant ball my belly has become, my legs feel way too thick to move. When I try to move, everything jiggles and wobbles, even my arms. It is so humiliating. I can see stretchmarks and cellulite all over my skin, dimples at places where there haven’t been any before. My ass is so massive, I’m sure it would break the toilet if I sat on it. The stall suddenly seems much tighter, as if it shrank- but I have to realize, it’s not the place that got smaller. I got bigger, so much bigger. There’s barely any room left as I grow absolutely obese. I feel like a helpless paper bag that just gets filled with more and more lard, until it bursts.

My cheeks puff up some more, my double chin melts into a triple chin. My arms wobble with fat, my breasts melt into the roll of chest and stomach. My belly balloons a bit more until it nearly touches the door, absolutely enormous. I can feel my hips and ass brushing against the walls.

"Fuck…" I groan. What am I gonna do now? I can’t go back to my date like that! I can’t go out like that at all!

"You wouldn’t even fit through the door."

I startle at the voice, and then my mouth hangs open when a woman appears in the stall with me, in the men's room. And it’s not just any woman, it’s the girl that I ghosted on Tinder, the crazy one that claimed she is a witch, wearing a lacy black dress and black lipstick.

"Look at you," she grins smugly, raking her eyes over my new form. "You’re so fat, oh my God. Completely, helplessly obese."

She reaches out and starts fondling my fat. Her hands seem tiny against the mountain my body has become, sinking into endless rolls of fat. She purrs as she kneads at my belly, grabbing it and giving it a good jiggle. She feels up my thighs, coos about not being able to reach around my girth. She pinches my cheek and gropes my breasts, slaps my ass and plays with my rolls. It is so deeply humiliating, the way she makes me aware of how fat I am.

"You know, you should never ghost a witch." She says, tracing the tips of her fingers over my stretchmarks. "I thought you were special, but you ditched me. Well, you paid for it plenty." She grins again, taking hold of my belly. She shakes it, making it wobble obscenely.

"You did this to me!?" I snap, fuming in anger. I try to smack her hand away, but I don’t know how to coordinate my thick arms, and so I only gesture at the air pathetically. She laughs at me, shaking her head.

"Oh, poor you. You’re too fat to move."

"Turn me skinny again!" I plead desperately. "Please, I don’t wanna be this fat!"

She tuts, pinching my chubby cheeks again.

"Aw, but why would I? I love looking at your humongous body…" she licks her lips, hungrily staring at me. "So huge, so impossibly round and heavy. Perfect."

"It’s not perfect!" I protest. Even talking makes me winded, and I wheeze, wiping at the sweat on my brow. "I look disgusting!"

"Well, next time you ghost someone on Tinder, you'll remember me. Always." Her eyes darken as she grips my belly again, more aggressively this time. "I just wonder if your little date will still want to fuck you when you roll out looking like this..."

I feel the same tingling sensation from before, and I whimper as the witch fattens me even more. At the beginning of the evening, I was 70 kilos, and the witch kept blowing me up until I hit 170. I gained 100 kilos out of nowhere, and all that because I left the wrong girl on read.

Clothes magically appear on my body to keep me decent, but they do nothing to hide my massive body. The witch grins proudly, tapping me on my giant ass.

"Have fun on your date," she coos sweetly. She pushes me out the door with difficulty as my hips get stuck. I huff and puff, sweating and going red as I try to squeeze myself through. She gives me a good shove and I manage, nearly falling over because I’m not used to all that weight.

I waddle outside, cheeks red in shame as my fat ripples with every step. I can barely walk, and I knock into everything and everyone on my way, my new girth too unfamiliar to me.

Man, I wish I didn’t leave that crazy girl on read today...