'I'm not here,' said the distressed mook...gehehehehehehehehehehe~...

...

You're LYING to me! You're not here, you're not here! Get OUT!

...

Geeehhhhhehehehehehehehehehe~

...

"I'm not a clown," Spencer muttered, gently rubbing his temples in circles, in a desperate attempt to assuage the pain which was casted deep within his cranium.

He thought a nap would suffice; and even though he woke up earlier than expected with the accompanying grogginess, the voice of the strange entity didn't speak to him during the first three minutes of staring at the floor, while regaining his bearings. He saw to it that it would be the cure to his deliriousness, to rid him of the brainrot that was having him fearful of being another tenet in a padded self of a safe-haven known as the asylum. Just the sheer thought of being straightjacketed and being fed like an infant for god knows how long, maybe for the rest of his days, had his face showered in a light film of cold sweat.

He must find a way to get rid of the voice...the one that made him awoke with hard wood; a phyiscal, residual, bonerific by-product of dreams vaguely recounted to be extremely kinky. But by now, the angry growth was dialing back into a modest limp as his arousal was overrided by the disturbing fear that was weighing down on him. But he knew he couldn't act on solving the problem if he were to idle on his bed, too plagued by possible outcomes to do anything but further both the stress in his lungs and the aching in his stomach. And so continued as he went the bearded, brunet man massaged at his temples, finding himself staring down at the floor for probably much longer than he wanted.

...

Many moons ago I fretted to be trapped forever.

Many times have I tried telling you that I WILL break free.

Amd many moments soon will you again try to deny...but it's only a matter of tiiiimmme~!

...

With a loud slam, Spencer's palms crashed onto the edge of the bed, fingers clawing deep into the sheets as he shakily inhaled, then exhaled.

He knew he wasn't a clown, clowns belong at the circuses, circuses are for freaks, freaks have makeup and weird hair, he wasn't a freak, he wasn't a freak, it was not true, he was living proof it was not true, and his hair was long, handsome and healthy, his body was normal, he loved being normal, normal is good, yes, yes.

...

...Rapidfire pondering...that was cute, gehehehehehehe~

...

Just get the hell out of my mind...go elsewhere! "Make the pain STOP!"

...

Awwwww, silly human, what's the matter with a little indoctrination, hmm? 

Maybe if you weren't so spellbound by modestly-massive men, then you might have had a chance in overruling whatever reigns I have over you...to bad you have a naughty, little mind in need of disciplining~
...

The man's eyes were scrunched airtight, rivaling the tautness clenched in his chest as he heaved-and-hoed slow, short breaths.

Then, his nose felt a few hairs lighter, and a clattering noise pervaded in front of him, soonafter.

His glasses fell.

Spencer opened his eyes--as his impaired vision slowly solified familiar shapes which comprised of his bedroom, he looked down at his glasses...then looked down just a little further to find BIG, BROWN BREASTS--

"AHH--!"

He jerked along the edge of the bed--his hands scurried all over his chest, feeling nothing but his grey shirt, and his chest, which remained fair, flat, creamy and clammy. As he tugged at his collar and cleared his throat, and his heartbeat eased, he realizing it was nothing.

Amused, Spencer caved his forehead into his palm, and started chuckling.

It was nothing...the sight that gave him quite a scare were simply those brown socks he was wearing.

"Silly me," he muttered out in an exhausted breath. "Getting jump-scared by socks, what is this world coming to..."

In the midst of regaining himself, Spencer retrieved his glasses, resting them once more along the bridge of his nose. The mild-mannered man surmised that he needed a wake-up call by way of a couple cold splashes to the face.

...

I'm not going crazy...my sleeping pattern's been messed up...or maybe the milk in the fridge started souring early...you hear yourself talk when you're not under the weather, it is true, that is true, that is normal. I'm normal.

...You're going crazy, Spencer.

...Crazy enough to THINK you're crazy...a-ha...

...

Spencer slogged into the bathroom, approaching the sink as he ran a hand along his long hair, fiddling a bit with the ponytail protruding out from the back as his feet finally shuffled to a stop.

His eyes were greeted by the warped reflection stretched along the metal surface of the faucet's handle. He smirked.

It was funny...his face looked fat, his jawline strict and square, parallel to the shape of the rectangular handle. And the low angle of his reflection gave his nose a rather hoggish appearance. For a moment, he was going to oink, but figured it wasn't worth the effort.

Instead, he let on a toothy grin from the mild entertainment the sink was giving him.

His eyes then rose up, staring into the dark pair of onlookers reflected back at him in the mirror. Ugh. Well that killed the fun.

Spencer went ahead and angled the handle upward, towards the cold side, and a rush of water tunneled out of the metal rod, running into the drain below. Palms met cold water, and cold, watery palms met face--SPLASH--

The man tensed up from the sudden change in temperature deliberately plastered onto his face...he felt a bit less fuzzy, now.

Then, he realized...

"Fuck--"

He took his glasses off, the lenses drenched in dribbling rivulets as he cursed to himself that he didn't remove his spectacles beforehand.

...

Take a good look at yourself~

...

"Oh, fuck me..."

...

There it fucking was again--that increasingly-tiresome voice breathing through his battered mind.

He tried splashing his face several more times in quick succession, the water steadily dripping off of his bearded jawline.

Blankly, he stared into the drain as the water helplessly sunk into it.

...

See that? That's where you'll end u--

...

"Shut up, SHUT UP, SHUT U-OH SHIT--!"

CRACK!

Spencer swiped his glasses, and they clattered against the wall behind him.

He quickly swiped him up, only to of course find an adoring crack set upon of the lenses. As he turned to look at himself again, a frustrated growl crawled out of his throat...

...

Oooohhhh, I love seeing you in the reflection~ It's actually turning me on how angry you look~ I love a strong, daring man--

...

SLAM!

The disgruntled Spencer had exited the bathroom, unknowingly splintering the wood around the knob as he was already in the living room, plopping himself on the sofa. Immediately, he craned forward, hands settled on his head as he begun rocking back and forth, his breathes resembling hisses through tightened teeth.

It felt as if some unknown force--the unknown entity in his mind--was affecting him physically. As if the lining of his stomach crumpled and twisted, and the walls of his lungs were closing in, thinning out and shrinking up....

An ungodly flutter of butterflies swarm in his gut, just as a stream of powerless, broken breaths scattered out of his sputtering, pink lips.

Rocking, rocking, rocking, and rocking, he went.

Was he here? Was this a dream? There must have been something in the milk...the takeout was a tad bit old. No, that wasn't an eviction notice...staff said they had to repair the pipes...he had to have finally updated his inspection sticker...the meds he took had hallucinations touted as a side effect...wasn't there something in the air, why was his stomach tightening, why were his lungs burning, WHY WAS HIS BRAIN HURTING--

...

GEEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAA~!

...

"NNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!"

...

Think of all the fun to be had with me, parter-in-jest~ Look at you right now, a lowly, insignificant nobody ready to fetal-position on his couch.

Why bother with such infantile behavior, when I could give you want you want?

...

Spencer's rocking started slowing down...strangely, through the mental madness, he felt inclined to listen.

...

Don't you hate having to wear those goofy glasses? I could always give you the perfect eyesight...narry a person, place or thing subjected to blurs by seeing with only the two spectates buried in your skull. Never again would you worry about cracking a portal to clear vision.

And what about the strength?

...

"What about the strength?" the man instinctively reiterated out loud.

...

Ohhh...let's just say, those weren't socks you were looking at~ I gave you a glimpse of who you COULD become--my apologies, who you ALWAYS were!

...

Spencer was already still on the couch, waiting for the weird voice in his head to tell him more.

...

I know of your physical mediocrity, Spencer~ If you let me in deeper, I can unlock you. And by doing so, I will grant you the gift of becoming a strong, hefty man, which so much strength many a measly man may might as well grovel at your feet.

And with that strength, comes an improved, or some any argue, an IDEAL body figure.

Yes, Spencer...you KNOW the type. For years, I've poked and prodded around within the wrinkles of your generous gray matter...ohhhhhh, it's so good of you to share such sensitive information with me, I'll say~

...

"Wuh...what're you...I don't...what're you talking about...?"

...

Don't play dumb with me, boy~  I know what you're fondest of...who you're most fondest of...your memory is MY memory, after all...and with a snap of my neurological fingers, I can distinctly remember your eyes GLUED to the computer screen, as it was mercilessly filled with luscious imagery...of the exploits of sizeable, curvaceous, heavyset men~

...

For a moment, the only sound Spencer had heard was his heartbeat dancing in his ears.

...

I know, it's feels INCREDIBLE to think about them~ Would it offend you to know that I may fit in heavyweight category, as well~?

......Ohhhhh, I feel giddy inside...YOU feel giddy inside...if I had to play dumb like you, then I wonder which particular body part seems to be entertained by these thoughts the most~?

Hmmmmmmm, give me a moment....hmmmm, yes, yes...guess, speculate, hypothesize...oh--GASP--

...

"MMMMMMMMPPPHH," SLLLUUURRRPPP~

Spencer had salaciously licked his lips, upon seeing the tent pitched in his jeans.

But that wasn't him who slurped, let alone moaned. It felt like his mouth had a mind of its own.

By the way, was Spencer's tummy ever that pudgy--

...

Yessssssss, look at what you can hold, Spencey~ This is what you've ALWAYS wanted~ STARE into your soft, warm, comfy fate~

I want you to be big....I want you to be big and strong, my chubby-chasing peasant~

...

A curious hand of the man's own volition had hovered towards his abdomen...

...

That's riiiiight~...

...

The fingers touched...

...

Mmmmmmmmmpphh~

...

...then SUNK into the soft, newborn pudge of bellyblubber~

...

FUUUUUUUCKKKKK~ Gehehe, excuse my french~ That just feels soooo GOOD~ Put some more effort into it...twerk that tummy, BITCH~

...

"Yeaaaaeeeaaasssir," a lustfueled Spencer dragged on his response, as he gripped his gut with both hands and started shaking it~

"OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS," the man said out of his control.

...

More...more...MORE~!

...

CLENNNCCCCCHHHHHHHH~

...

UNLEASH MY BELLY UNTO THIS WORLD, ONTO YOUR TUMMY~!

...

At this point, Spencer no longer had the reigns to his personal tummy-gropers...it was now this strange clown in his mind who wrestled with his flab.

He didn't mind the sensation, not at all. What he did mind was the lack of control--

And with that realization came a sudden pang of fear--Spencer had stood up, still unable to break free of the forced grasp gripping his fat tummy, as it undulated and rippled...and was it...

Was it getting BIGGER~...?

...

GEEEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I can FEEL you try to yank me off of your belly, but don't bother! You know this is ALLURING~ It's turning us BOTH ON~ Mmmmmmmmmppphhh, I can feel you THROBBING so hard in your jeans, Spency~

...

Spencer's hands were now aggressively shaking the tummypudge, his mouth hung agape, eyes widened in pure splendor of the storm of gut-chub bellowing out before him.

....

Mmmmhhmmmmhhmmmmmmpppphhhhh~.....now then, go to your room.

...

The poor, aroused hostage of his own, fleshy hide plodded his feet back into his bedroom.

...

Now tuuuuuurrrrrrn...thaaaaat's it~

...

Finally, he could feel himself twitch his own fingers again. Spencer dropped his hands, and saw in shock of what had unfolded...or in this case, JIGGLED before him--

It was his own tummy, MASSIVE and FLABBY, the wide weight lazily hanging out from beneath his shirt, obscuring his crotch, wobbling with every single motion he made. It looked so bizarre, compared to the relatively-average build he had, to now have this disgusting, heaving mass of flesh draped over the fly of his pants, a massive distraction that seemed to scream for attention in that arousing reflection--

...

Look at the fruits of our labor, Spency~ My GIFT unto you~

...

"My God, sir....it's wonderful. It...it feels so h-heavy...."

...

Exactly~! The weight of such AWESOME STRENGTH, now enriched onto your tummy~ A source of TRUE VIRILITY, the trigger to your arousal~

...

"I c-can't stop looking at it...I'm breathing so hard looking at it, it's so damn beautiful~"

...

HANDSOME, my dear boy~...HANDSOME~

Doesn't it feel good, to know that this was WITHIN YOU, this ENTIRE TIME~?

...

Spencer nodded.

...

So is the prospect of becoming me outside the realm of possibility?

...

The man said nothing. His mouth was agape again, breaths loud and steamy, his saggy belly slowly swayed to and fro in a sluggish, hypnotic pace as he continued to pierce his gaze into that lovely reflection of it...if he could, he'd bend over and just sink his face on it, succling on the soft flesh, lips stamping approving smooches on the doughy surface, picking up the flab and letting it go to clap back onto his body...

Wait, he could see his fly again--the belly was rising...sinking back into himself--

"Wait, wait--"

...

I'm waaaaaaaitiiiiinnggggg~

...

"O-okay...okay...I...I-I want it."

...

You want WHAT, exactly?

...

Spencer gulped.

"I want to become you."

Then, came a pause...and then--

...

That's not good enough. BEG~

...

"Y-yessir~! Please, please, PLEEEEAAAAASE, I want your bellyfat! I want to feel myself balloon into a pile of flubber! Grant me the strength you have!"

...

Still inadequate. 

Squat for me.

...

Spencer did as told.

...

Grip those lovehandles...

...

His hands sunk into the sides of his sizable stomach...

...

Massage my stomach...

...

The man breathed hard as he started rubbing that gut--

...

SLOOOOOOWWWWWLY~

...

--in slow, sensual tummyrubs~

...

Now thrust slowly.

...

And that, the bellygripper did.

...

Hump your boner against that mass. Do not miss a beat--keep messaging, keep thrusting, and keep listening~

...

"Mmmmmmmph," SLURP~

That time, Spencer did indeed moaned and slurped~

It felt so...strange...yet incredible, to handle all this soft, sweet, cuddly chub hanging off his tummy, legs spread a bit apart, knees bent, jeans'd tent tapping against his tummy, his body already encased in a sheet of light sweat and a faint haze of steam as he continued whoring himself to his own body...to his own mind~

...

Yesssssssssss, good boy~

Who am I~?

...

"I'm you~"

...

Who are you~?

...

"Am I~"

...

Good, GOOD~!

Do you understand who you ALWAYS were, now~?

...

Spencer nodded.

...

Every single day, up to this point...you were nothing but a disingenuous cocoon, one made to contain me, to leave me IMPRISONED inside the shackles of your mind!

This body you claim "yours" has DECEIVED the world far too long! You must ATONE for such a lowly act, to EXPOSE to the people of what they MUST RIGHTFULLY BEAR WITNESS TO, after all these years of meandering about as FIB INCARNATE!

Do you believe it NOW that you ARE ME, Spencer~?

...


"O-oh GOSH, yes~"

...

FEEL THE POWER RUSHING THROUGH YOU....let NATURE take its COURSE as it EVOLVES YOU, EMBIGGENS YOU...EMBELLISHES YOU~

...

CREEEAAAAAAAAKKKK~

...

FATTEN YOU...PERFECT YOU~!

...

The man's eyes LURCHED out in excitement just as that thought was screamed out, not just in mind, but even vocally, the elated daggers bored into his equally-ecstatic reflection--which had shown right back at him a new pair of onlookers--a set of manic, dark, grusome eyes, adorned with a menacing, scrunching brow~

...

GEEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~...

...

"S-sir~..." Spencer was bug-eyed in wonder of his own reflection, "My glasses are blurry--"

"Then you don't need 'em."

FLICK--

With a punt of the finger, Spencer's spectacles flown off of his face, effortlessly split into two, with each arm of the halved glasses having jabbed themselves into the ceiling above.

"FEEL it, SLUT~ Every single SLAP of my tummy is SPANKING you into SHAPE~"

Spencer indeed became aware of what was going on--his arms have gotten meatier, his hands grubbier and chubbier as it easily held and rubbed more and more of the growing belly~

And not only that--the shirt felt even tighter than usual as his breasts grew, RIIIIIIPPPING open a small cleavage in his shirt, with the tummy-area appearing to be not too far behind...the ginormous mass of pure GLUT was invasive, and just then, it begun to TEEEEEAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR his shirt apart, revealing his soft, adorable innie~

There was also the factor of how every single time his tummy pounced against his legs, they got ever-so rounder, curvier, plumper, and THICCER, their jiggling and wiggling becoming ever-more pronounced with every gut-bash that was wrought upon his thundering thighs, making his jeans feel extra tight...and even his socks~

Suddenly, Spencer's lips puckered up, with a strange feeling imbuing within him. He desperately tried to stiffle something...something strange. His eyes were wide, and his chest started bouncing, tearing his poor, delicate shirt with...

With those...SAGGENING titties...his breasts just FILLED with FLAB--

The flab...all that flab, it just looked SILLY!

Like how, seeing him get bigger and fatter, ripping his clothes, it all looked so fucking STUPID...

His hairline steadily receding into a vicious 'V', beginning to curve upwards on the sides, that just looked FOOLISH..!

And his nose...oh GOD his nose...it was...it was shrinking and curving upwards...

Oh man...

Oh gosh...

That looked...

That made him look like...

"A PIGGEHEHHEHHEEEEEEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~!"

Tears leaked out of his tight, dark eyelids as he laughed and laughed and laughed, while tummygropping, bellybouncing and guthumping, his head becoming meatier, wider and squarier as his lips elongated across his face, his small fangs transforming into menacing, chunky fangs, his hair having shrunk so much that the ponytail which bounded once youthful, long, locks was now unceremoniously descending to the floor, behind the beastly behemoth that was oh-so entertained by his swelling size~

As his body GREW and GREWWW and GREWWWWWW...the man was gradually slipping away from tangibility of reality...things that were once dreams, once figments, now starting to be realized...it was as if his consciousness was lulled into dreamhood...a rest which may very well be his last.

His vision blurred, the colors ballooned and kissed and swirled, ruminating within an ever-increasing blob of white...the laughter, which was no longer of his doing, became muffled, as if submerged by the weight of his own, hefty hide, akin to a deep dive in a pool...

He could feel his hands not become his, his hips no longer gyrating by his own accord, no longer needing his feet to stand, let alone the need to stand, at all...and through all of this phyiscal fleeting, he felt a core piece of him that measily tethered him between reality and the unknown--his throbbing, pulsating, stiff, solid cock, humping into that fuckable pillow of poundable bellymeat upon every soul-fleeting heartbeat, now embarking on a journey of inevitable, cathartic release~....

SLAP~!

"Wake up, sleepyhead~ I want you to do one last thing for me..."

"W-whats that, sir?" Spencer's slurring, innocent voice meatily spoke through his widened lips.

"Chant this aloud--I am a fatass faggot. DO IT!"

"I am a fatass faggot..."

"Again..."

"I am a fatass faggot...!"

"Go on!"

"I am a fatass faggot!"

"Say it LOUDER! MEAN IT!"

"I AM A FATASS FAGGOT! I AM A FATASS FAGGOT! I AM A FATASS FAGGOT! I AM A FATASS FAGGOT!"

"DON'T STOP, FAGGOT! TELL YOUR MIMIC WHO YOU ARE!"

"GOSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH, I AM A FATASS FAGGOT!  I AM A FATASS FAGGOT! I AM A FATASS FAGGOT! I AM A FATASS FAGGOT!  I AM A FATASS FAGGOT! I AM A FATASS FAGGOT!" OOOOOIIIIIIIIINNNKKK~!

"Oohhhooohhoooo, did you just OINK, you BIG, UGLY PIG~? Gehehehe...GeheheHEHEHEHE... GYAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA~!" the crazed, chubby, colossal, corporeal, clownish creature held the sides of his head, bent over, eyes impossibly WIDE, mouth even WIDER, hocking out hearty laughter that echoed throughout every inch of the apartment like a phantom drunken with rapture, drowning out the noise of his badonkadonkalicious bootycheeks boring through the fabric of his jeans...

Then...

"...aaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH--"

KABOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMSSSCCCHHHHNNNNAAAPPPPPPP~!

The containing, caucasian coccoon of flesh EXPLODED, and immediately after that explosion came a massive, PURPLE SHOCKWAVE--the bedroom became a smoldering of concaved rubble and splinters, glass flew into a descending flutter, and just as the rupture cracked through the room, a jetstream of something thick, globby and white rocketed itself right through the mirror that dared to stand in its path, obliterating it into hundreds of shards!

Soon, as the dust settled, and the winds died down, the man stood slightly-hunchbacked, his demeanor now calm and content.

THOOM..THOOM...THOOOMM his gait went, every footstep embedding a print onto the floor from the sheer weight stamped upon it, until the man came across a shard of the destroyed mirror. The reflection was obscured in amassed amount of aromatic mansteam surrounding his overbearing frame. He raised a chunky hand, and it was soon encased in a swirly aura of strange, violet energy.

With a casual gesture of beckoning towards himself, the mirror complied to his whim, raising up to his face. He opened his mouth, and then--

SLUUUURRRRRRPPPPPP--

--lapped the steam right off of the reflection, revealing to him the finished efforts--

His skin was touted in a dungy shade of chocolately, and his balding, raised hair was garrishly tinted in explosive, hot pink.

But he needed to see more...he wanted to make sure...so with another casual gesture, he magically brought all the shards together, forming them into a warped, distorted mirror. With another gesture, he erradicated the steam off of it to finally unveil his full appearance. Slowly, he moved and angled the conglomerate of shards to take it all in; this body, this look, this everything....it was something he once could only afford to fantasize for decades.

The man was somehow even THRICE the size he was before the explosion, his tits sagged midway on either side of his belly, his tummy sat its lovehandles on either thigh, his thonged crotch dripping with thick rivulets of cum, with the only other article he wore on him his cape...and most imporatent of all, his identity was finally realized--his face, which he rubbed with his free hand. Wide, square-jawed, longlipped, pig-snouted, darkeyed, browless--he was distinctively, robustly, UNDOUBTEDLY, UNGODLY UGLY...!

"Thank you for believing, Spency~" the wicked voice frothed from the clown's lips.

SHATTER--the shards clattered back onto the ground.

PLAP--something fell onto his head. He pulled it off, and saw that it was the loose, hanging flesh that used to be Spencer's face, now an eerie, eyeless husk, resembling a mask. He promptly STUFFED the droopy jowl into his mouth, and greedily GULP it down into his gullet!


And with a satisfying "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh," the clwon finally said--

"You were ALWAYS the MIMIC OF DOOM~!"

The big, handsome man proudly bellowed out a loud, hearty laugh, finally liberated of his lifelong entrapment, as the toonish, fleshy remains of his prisoner laid strewn about the wreckage, a broken shell of what he once was~