So, long linear stories aren’t usually my thing, but this is over 13,000 words and figured someone out there may appreciate it. It’s mostly a standard slice-of-life narrative with some sexy but incredibly unrealistic/magical elements peppered in (mostly pertaining to body-modification). I spent a lot of time with the descriptions in this piece and there is quite a bit of dialogue. I’m not super confident most readers here will be into this, but if you are, it’s broken up into about 9 parts.
***
Anya had the dream again. This time she didn’t spring from the bed in a panic. She didn’t scream for her roommate. This time she only stared up at her ceiling fan, her eyes unfocused, barely registering its vaguely floral shape, as dim morning light poured in through her bedroom window.
Something was happening. She wasn’t quite sure if it was a malicious *something* yet, but she knew something wasn’t right.
She was clammy with sweat and her tank top clung to her skin. Her limbs felt heavy and her muscles were sore. It happened again she knew. She kicked off her sheets, the chilly morning air gave her a shiver that sent goosebumps across her skin.
Anya sighed, and carefully stepped from her bed. The moment she stood up, the new weightiness behind her threatened to tip her backward. She reached back her hands cupping her buttocks. The distance seemed shorter. Her hands seemed smaller. She squeezed and shook one hefty cheek and then the other. One shake of the meaty globes sent a tremor up and down her spine.
Her once loose flannel pajama bottoms felt a good deal tighter than when she went to sleep last night.
Anya whimpered, twisting the palms of her feet into the carpet below one by one as she examined her legs. She was definitely thicker.
She leaned over just barely bending at her waist so she could more closely inspect the rest of her curves. She felt the fabric tautly wrapped around her bottom, tighten, and then give way with a loud ripping noise. The back seam of her adorable heart-adorned flannel pajama bottoms exploded, sending cool rushing against her the split of her ass.
“Of course…” She groaned.
It was the third night this week she had gained weight across her buttocks and thighs. If the trend continued, by the end of the week she’d be more ass than girl.
She slowly stepped towards the mirror hanging over her closet door. Each step felt heavy, and she was increasingly conscious of her ass cheeks jiggling with every footfall. Her reflection wasn’t as nearly as shocking as it had been the first two times. She looked like some twisted pagan fertility goddess. A figure somewhere between those statues of the Venus from late antiquity and a centaur.
Anya stood there a moment. She could’ve been wrong but she swore her hair was more lustrous than it was yesterday. It was now an ombré of multifaceted brunette shades, with tints and highlights of shimmery copper. It seemed to grow a few inches as well. The sweeping curls now ran down over her chest. Her skin was also a little smoother, and well almost radiant.
As far as she could tell, nothing about her face had changed. Her eyes were still the same shade of earthy brown, her jawline was still a little square, and her lips were still a little thin for her liking. She had always thought of herself as cute. Her features were delicate, but not what she would describe as beautiful. She wondered if the mystery deity would change that too. She wondered if she’d recognize herself if they did.
As she lowered her gaze, briefly fondled her breasts over the thin tank top. She had been around a 34A bra size since high school, and as far as she could tell that hadn’t changed at all. She puffed up her chest and pouted. It was strange. Whatever was happening left her little mosquito bites alone, but changed nearly everything else.
She lifted the center of her tank top and examined her torso. Her tummy looked pretty much the same, curving out slightly around the lower part of her torso, but there were the hints of muscle below her ribs. Her waist was tiny, almost cinched in compared to where her hips bumped out in a gradual curve. The substantial weight gain extended passed her butt, spreading across the outside and front of her thighs, tapering at her knee, and then filling out her calves, producing a more balanced curvilinear figure.
She swallowed hard. As she turned from side to side in the mirror to study her profile. It was worse than she initially realized. Her ass was nearly comically out of proportion with her more humble curves.
Her ass swelled out from her back so abruptly it practically formed a shelf. She gave her cheek nearest to the mirror a heavy spank. The impact rippled through the meat of her ass causing both fleshy globes to wobble.
“Jesus…” Anya groaned.
She experimentally flexed each cheek, watching the globes clench and bounce beneath her ruined pajama bottoms. She had to twist and shimmy to pull her bottoms down below her massive ass. Once they were bare, she eyed the newly enlarged cheeks with nervous curiosity. Each cheek was a wide pale moon of flesh, narrowing a bit like the edge curved into her hips. She gave the bare flesh another squeeze causing the meat to swell around her fingers. Her ass was firm but squishy, it was likely nearly as much muscle as it was fat, which made even less sense in her head.
Anya wondered what Cassie would think. Her roommate had been brushing off her concerns since day one, but now, she had to agree something insane was happening.
Anya pulled up her pajama bottoms as quickly as she could and gingerly walked across her bedroom to the door. Her hips seemed to rock forward as she stepped and the new weight meant keeping her balance required a conscious effort.
She could hear the water running in the bathroom down the short little corridor before she had even stepped outside her room.
Cassie was swaying back and forth to some unheard song as she brushed her teeth. She was tall and lissome. Even hunched over the bathroom sink, in an oversized t-shirt with her long blonde hair pinned up in a lazy twist, Cassie was stunning. Her face wouldn’t have looked out of place on a billboard, or the cover of a magazine. She had dimpled cheeks, full lips, high cheekbones, and big pristine blue eyes.
Cassie had a dancer’s build if this dancer also happened to have really big tits. Ayna admired her from the moment they met, in a biology class the same year Anya graduated. She was beautiful, and free-spirited, with a seemingly endless supply of charm and wit. They hadn’t been friends long, but she could sense Cassie was going to be a life-long friend.
Cassie’s eyes went as wide as cheery pies the moment her once petite roommate appeared in the doorway.
“It happened again?” Cassie muttered through a mouthful of foamy toothpaste.
“Yea,” Anya murmured.
She spat into the sink, “Holy fuck,” Cassie exclaimed, wiping the foamy white spittle from her chin, “you look fucking hot…”
“Cassie, but this is ridiculous,” Anya complained, spinning around to show her friend the back seam of her pajama bottoms had blown out.
Cassie went slack-jawed for near-a-second before she was smiling again. “What are you like five foot four? Your ass is probably three times mine. That’s fucking bonkers, babes. You need to get back on Instagram…” Cassie replied while tracing the girl’s curves with the end of her toothbrush.
Cassie had to be exaggerating. Cassie was about two inches taller than her, and her butt was toned, compacted, and round. Anya thought it was perfect, but Cassie wasn’t shy about voicing her envy, no matter how misplaced.
“Cassandra, this is serious… what if my ass just keeps getting bigger?”
Cassie shrugged, “I don’t know… I’m going to be honest… if it were me I’d start an Only Fans.”
Anya narrowed her eyes at her in mock disgust, “You can’t be serious.”
“Babes, have you seen that fucking ass?” Cassie exclaimed, “Oh, my fucking God… You’re like so lucky… Seriously, if you want to make like a million dollars by the end of the year, monetize that thing.”
“I’m serious… I might be CURSED?” Anya countered.
“You’re blessed,” Cassie corrected, “Honestly, it’s probably late puberty or something. OR you’re drinking way too many of those milkshakes…”
“Those are meal replacement shakes, Cassie!” Anya shouted, “…and no, something else is happening…”
“Whatever they are, they’re gross… I’d give them another try, but I just gain weight around the middle,” Cassie pouted, before cutting a smile at her friend, “you lucky duck,” she teased.
“You’re a journalism major, you don’t want to…” Anya fidgeted about in frustration, “—I don’t know… do some research on this phenomenon?”
Cassie held the end of her toothbrush to her chin, and thought a moment, “By research… do you mean whip out my fattest dildo and absolutely wreck ‘em cheeks…” she paused and the booped Anya’s nose with the tip of her toothbrush, “…then yes.”
“Cassie, stop kidding around,” Anya blushed.
Cassie often teased her, but she only ever brought men over to the apartment, and she only ever talked about old boyfriends. Still, Anya wasn’t entirely sure what Cassie’s particular orientation was. She found the invitation touch more exciting than she let on, she was straight. Straight, but prone to curiosity. The thoughts melted away as quickly as they came. She was still reasonably worried her body would keep changing and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Cassie’s lack of concern did little to put her mind at ease.
Cassie quietly rinsed and dried her toothbrush, before returning it to the jar on the bathroom sink. She somberly cleaned her throat, “Are you really that worried?” She asked.
Anya only nodded.
Cassie exhaled a deep contemplative breath. “Maybe, you should go see a doctor?” Cassie suggested.
Anya shook her head, “I went to the clinic yesterday. They thought I was delusional. Diet. Exercise. That whole spiel. Cassie, my ass is smooth. No stretch marks. No cellulite. No anything, and it just keeps getting BIGGER. Also, I feel great, like really great, but also really strange…”
Anya exhaled slowly, she hadn’t mentioned the dreams to her yet. The dreams were the worst part. “I’m having weird dreams…” Anya admitted, “and something is watching me through my dreams… something is off…” Anya continued hoping her friend wouldn’t think she was crazy.
“That IS concerning,” Cassie’s normally cheerful expression darkened, “Is it like a scary kind of dream?” Cassie asked.
Anya felt her breathing go shallow, “I don’t usually remember much…” Anya confessed, “I know, I’m somewhere dark, and it feels like something is crawling on my skin, wispy little things. Not like bugs. I don’t know how to explain it. The creepy part is, that it feels like there’s something in my room, but I can’t move. When I actually wake up my whole body is sore.”
“Babes, that sounds creepy as shit… does it feel EVIL?.”
Anya shrugged, “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe you have a creepy fairy godmother—and to find your prince charming you need a big ‘ol dump truck ass?” Cassie smirked as if her comment was incredibly clever.
Anya blustered, “…I’m not going to confide in you anymore!”
Cassie pouted, “I’m sorry… Anya—Babes… this is sort of out of my scope. Maybe it’ll stop on its own? MAYBE you can ask it to stop? People can sometimes lucid dream.”
Anya sighed, and shook her head, “I’m not sure how to do that.”
“I know some guys that are fucking hyper D&D nerds. I could be wrong, but I hear them talk about occult shit all the time, maybe one of them can help?”
“No,” Anya answered, “I don’t want people to think I’m crazy…”
Cassie smiled, “I’ll be really tactful. Nothing to worry about,” she insisted before gently patting Anya on the shoulder. “Anya, I gotta get dressed for class, but we’ll figure this out.”
“Thanks,” Anya said quietly.
It was a few hours before her shift started, so she figured she could use that time to do her own research.
Anya returned to her room and booted up her laptop. She scoured obscure page after obscure page with no luck. Trying to discover the source of her affliction online was a complete waste of time. She gave up after about an hour of searching. It was past time she got ready for work.
Her usual morning routine suddenly felt strangely new, even compared to the past few days. The toilet seat felt smaller. Not too small, but small enough to make her feel indelicate. She was constantly picking things up, as her butt was bouncing into things and knocking things over. Once she was showered and dry she found that her favorite pair of comfy underwear no longer fit. They were uncomfortably tight. Her ass swallowed up so much of the fabric the simple pair of cotton briefs could’ve been mistaken for a g-string.
After trying on several different pairs it became obvious that underwear was out of the question. Even her more scandalous pairs only made it halfway up her exceptionally thick backside. She wondered had she really been so small before.
The campus bookstore where she worked was pretty relaxed about their attire. Employees had to wear black pants, and a forest green polo shirt emblazoned with the school’s logo, which they provided. She was able to slip the shirt over her head and pull it down to her waist as she had done any other day before. However, as she expected, her usual modest pair of black slacks had become a problem. She had only gotten the pants halfway up her thighs before it was painfully obvious they weren’t going to fit.
She had already taken the past two days off. She couldn’t afford to take a third.
She rifled through her wardrobe until she found a pair of black leggings. It was probably the stretchiest thing she owned. She rolled the fabric over her heels then up and over her calves, pulling them up slowly over her pale thighs. She shifted her weight from foot to foot as she slipped into the snug but stretchy fabric.
Her progress halted as the waistband of her leggings squeezed beneath the heavy globes of her ass. She pulled, leaned forward, and bounced on her heels. The motion caused her ridiculously plump ass cheeks to wobble and ripple behind her, the meaty globes creased against her lower back, and slammed back against each other with a loud fleshy clap.
The sound stunned her a moment. A broad grin swept across her face. Her leggings were still bunched up beneath the weight of her ass. She stood a little straighter and then hopped and bounced sending the exceeding fleshy globes into a rhythmic wobble. Each collision was accompanied by a weighty thunk. When she bounced on her heels over and over until her room echoed with abrupt fleshy applause. She stopped after a minute or so and broke into a fit of wicked laughter. She could make her ass clap with hardly any effort at all. She found the concept both hilarious and ridiculously hot.
Once she caught her breath she was able to shimmy into the leggings, pulling the stretchy material to her slender waist. She quickly slipped on her work-appropriate black suede ankle boots. She was about to leave her room when her reflection caught her eye.
The truth of it was, despite her fears she was absolutely enamored with the changes. Cassie wasn’t wrong. Her ass was made for porn. Her figure looked positively obscene. If there was a contest for the thickest, juiciest ass somewhere she would easily win first prize. *Probably in Brazil,* she guessed.
She reached back and gripped a large fleshy pinch between her fingers. She couldn’t stop herself from squeezing it and shaking the globes about. She briefly considered treating herself to a quick orgasm to release some of the pent-up sexual energy she was feeling, but it was too late for that.
She whimpered and begrudgingly left the apartment before she had a chance to change her mind.
She noticed the lingering stares she was getting all across campus, some women glanced, but men openly gawked. The stares caused a warmth to seep into the seat of her leggings and she prayed no one noticed. The attention was unfortunately two-fold. Of course, her lavishly plush backside was attracting some stares. She didn’t realize it until she had stepped into the well-lit bookstore, but her normally opaque leggings were stretched so thin they were basically sheer in the proper lighting. Proper lighting was everywhere except in her bedroom. The material was so thin she could make out the vaguely triangular tuft of hair above her pussy.
She took several deep breaths attempting to flood the imminent panic attack with as much oxygen as she could. Students and faculty milled around the aisles as she attempted to regain her calm. After a moment she rushed into the back room behind the counter. She let the moment wash over her. The air in her lungs felt thin. She felt a bit dizzy and she began to gasp for breath and then she found herself smiling, then giggling. She took a deep breath and broke into incongruous laughter. She laughed until her chest hurt. She was on the verge of full-on sobbing when she pulled herself together. She wiped her face with her forearm and took a few quiet steady breaths. *Her life was absolutely ridiculous.* She reasoned it was too late to fix anything. If she was behind the counter all day, chances were good no one would notice.
As she pushed the door open she nearly ran into Daniel. Daniel usually worked in the cafe, but occasionally he took shifts at the cash register in the book department.
“Anya,” he said, greeting her flatly. His face was expressionless as he stepped passed her into the office.
Daniel looked different. Not so different that Anya didn’t recognize him, but different enough. Daniel was usually fairly quiet. They had worked together a few times, and they talked on occasion. She didn’t know much about him, but she knew he was still taking classes on campus. He was a few years her junior and he was bitter.
Bitter at the world. He had told her, that modern men were disposable more than once. He blamed dating apps and social media, and toxic masculinity for ruining it for the truly decent guys.
Anya disagreed with him, often fiercely. Daniel wasn’t necessarily a misogynist. He never disparaged women. At the very least he was smart enough not to do it in front of her. He wasn’t angry either. He was depressed. Too depressed for her to find endearing.
When he had asked her out a few weeks ago she was completely taken aback, but she politely declined. They hadn’t spoken much since. While he seemed nice enough afterward, there was something sour about the way he spoke to her from then on.
Today, he looked handsome. The moment she thought it, was the moment she realized his chin was different. To put it politely, Daniel usually had thin sharp features, and barely a chin to speak off. He was *weasel-faced,* as Cassie once described. Today, he wasn’t. His nose was shorter, his jawline was more prominent. Daniel was changing too. She let the thought fall away as a customer made their way to the counter.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uwxe64/perhaps_its_a_curse_part_i_mfslow