Fatty-Tober Day 10: Bloated
Looks like a good meal can maybe turn a werewolf into a teddy bear?
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Excerpt under the cut
Henry woke up by degrees, he felt bleary and slow...and so full he thought he might throw up. It was like his stomach was contracting around whatever he’d gorged on the night before in another apparent gluttonous fugue state. His eyes opened with a blink, and his vision was strange...like only one of his eyes was seeing in full color. The sky was still dark, but there was a creeping shine of dawn coming in to the east.
He tried to roll over, his belly twinged and sloshed sluggishly...it felt like he’d guzzled down a few dozen pounds of wet cement. He couldn’t stop a pained groan from rattling out of his throat, and it didn’t sound...human. ‘Oh god… what’s happening..?’ He thought, near panic as he realized the gritty feeling underneath his entire body meant he was outside...and that he was naked… again.
He finally managed to roll onto his side, and in this position he saw something he’d only been feeling a few moments ago. That itching sensation that he was feeling across his entire body...it was thick, coarse, dark hair either shedding off of his body in wafting spirals or in some cases...retreating into his flesh, thinning and lightening slightly as it did. He gasped as something in his face cracked, he pressed his left hand to his jaw and felt it pop and shift...changing from a muzzle-like shape and returning to his normal doughy jawline.
The sky continued to lighten, and the changes began to speed up. The itching sensation intensified to a maddening pitch, and Henry realized after a moment that it was receding toward the middle of his left forearm...where he’d been bitten by that… “dog”. He stared at his arm in wonder, his fingers grew slightly smaller, his nails receded to a more human shape, and finally the last of the hair either detached from his skin or shrank back to a more human texture to become his normal if thicker than usual bodyhair.
“I’m a… I’m… I’m a…” He struggled to voice the thought and then jumped when a deep voice not far away from him finished it for him.
“A werewolf? Yeah, and that’s something I feel like I should apologize to you for.” Henry recognized the voice, but the newly risen sun was behind the man and left his features in shadow. But the man’s silhouette was burly and coated in a generous layer of flab. The only details he could see was that the man was wearing a pair of stretchy-looking shorts, and no shirt.












