Revisions May Be Necessary

    Hilda sat in a metal folding chair in the corner of Bellatrix's furnished basement, trying her best to ignore her coven's ongoing meeting and get some much needed work done on an important potion for a very powerful and well connected client. But a room full of inflated eighteen to twenty-four year olds was hardly the proper work environment for alchemical research. All the talking, creaking, cooing, moaning, and groaning that came with group inflation certainly did a fantastic job of drowning out any thought Hilda could make before it could come into fruition. The absolute worst source of noise in the room had to be the ongoing test of inflation poker. The inflation was linked to the cards and the chips, theoretically making the loser inflate by the amount they bet. The problem was that instead of inflating by the amount that individual bet, it would inflate them with the whole pot. Thus, the game quickly devolved into a total farce of people betting all in with awful hands mixed with people betting nothing at all for any reason. Not to say they weren't enjoying themselves, because the constant shouting and laughing said otherwise.

    "Of course the meeting just -had- to be rescheduled. Of fucking course. It's totally not like I'm in the middle of some extremely important work or something. Yeah, three thousand dollars for a single potion is an order I get every fucking day. No, I'm never, ever busy. Idiots."

    Hilda tugged at her new pair of insanely tight and incredibly uncomfortable jeans. It was like wrapping a wedgie with shrinkwrap, and every move she made felt like it was testing the limits of her pants' materials. Couple that with her new black tank top that felt more like a boa constrictor than a shirt, and it still only made up a very small fraction of the problems with her clothes. Because every item of clothing she had was like this now.

    In an unprecedented spark of unwanted charity, Alba donated all of Hilda's old robes to Goodwill and bought her an entire wardrobe of ill fitting clothes of questionable quality and origin. Without keeping the receipt. Considering that the thousand or so dollars it would cost to replace her robes and reenchant them doesn't grow on trees, Alba's indignation at the mere suggestion of doing something about the 'non-issue' she created wasn't the most welcome reaction for Hilda. In fact, she was still stewing over it. If that was believable.
    An eruption of laughter and squeaks from the poker game derailed Hilda's train of thought entirely, prompting her to firmly close her notebook and stash it in her black cardigan -the only thing she owned that escaped Alba's incompetence.

    "Fuck this, I'm gonna have to ask Luther for help. Fuck me." Hilda stood up and whirled around, startling the young witch Bellatrix about to tap on her shoulder.

    "Oh! Hi Hilda!" Bellatrix gave a wimpy wave. "I -uh- I need your help testing my... well, I haven't come up with a name for it yet because I don't know -exactly- what to call it but it's sorta like a hookah -you know, the thing the caterpillar in the Alice in Wonderland cartoon is smoking from when he's like 'Who -are -you?'- but it has oodles of modifications to it like inflation potion instead of water and-"

    "Wait wait wait. Oodles?"

    "What?"

    "Oodles is not a word."

    "Yeah it is. Well at least I think it is. I remember seeing it in a book I read when I was little called 'Oodles of Noodles' but anyways, back to what I was saying, the container -I think it's called the vase or something- has some enchantments that make the active ingredients in an inflation potion cling to the tobacco smoke and-"

    "I refuse to accept oodles as a word in the English language. I just can't do it."

    Bellatrix sighed.

    "Like I was saying-"

    "Siri! Is oodles a word?"

    "Like -I -was -say-ing-"

    "You're fucking kidding me! Really?!"

    "Like I was-"

    "Hi Bellatrix!"

    The poor witch spun around, as tightly wound as a spring, ready to beat the shit out of whoever it was behind her.

    "Hi Phoebe."

    "What'cha up ta?"

    Bellatrix retained a sigh.

    "I made an inflation hookah."

    "What's a hookah?"

    "It's the thing the caterpillar in Alice in-"

    "Oh! Oh, oh yeah I get it I get it. Well, come on let's try it!"

    Hilda put on her cardigan and buttoned it up.

    "Sorry, but no. I gotta talk to Luther and get out of here to work on my potions."

    "Oh come on, please? Hilda, I need as many people as I can get to test this. I'll owe you a huge favor for this!"

    Well, having an enchantress and engineer owe you a favor has never been a bad thing to be honest, especially when you had as dire a need of enchantments as Hilda.
    On the walk over to the couch and coffee table -on which the hookah sat- Hilda's thoughts floated around her comparatively unattractive compatriots. Bellatrix could be better looking, if only she'd listen to reason and ditch the goth girl accessories and sharpie blue hair. Apart from that, she could be quickly and brashly summed up as a Hilda that shrank in the wash. She was a full head shorter, less endowed, and her face was similar enough to draw comparisons.

    Phoebe was a whole different matter. As curses went, hers was by far not the worst to end up with, but it wasn't exactly a rose garden. Apparently, she lost an argument with a far more powerful witch and ended up with her current body as a result. To prove it, she even brought in an old picture of herself, and boy was it proof. In the photo, Phoebe was easily summed up as a bombshell. Big ass and bigger tits, blonde hair, and absolutely no shame. Now, she was more like a glop of vanilla pudding. Whereas she used to be almost seven feet tall, now she pushed three and a half and was almost as wide. Her breasts were still monsters, maybe even bigger than before because of her weight, and her thick thighs never weren't rubbing against each other. The change was so stark that she was forced to change names and move cross-country rather than explain to everyone what happened along with everything else they didn't know. Currently, she was wearing one of a handful of outfits that fit her properly- her black robe. Fitting of course meaning that it didn't rip when she sat down or expose her belly when she stood up. Other than that, it looked like black paint on her stomach.

    Bellatrix shoved the hose of the hookah into Hilda's hand, snapping her out of her aimless daydream. She didn't even pay attention enough to realize that not only had they sat down on the couch, but she completely missed Bellatrix's explanation of how the hookah worked.

    "What?"

    "Try it!"

    Hilda shrugged and inhaled through the mouthpiece of the hose, taking in what she deemed a good amount.

    "Now you need to hold you breath. Theoretically, it should kick in now."

    Hilda nodded her head. Oh, it was kicking in alright. Her lungs were emptying like she was exhaling, but rather than exiting through her nose, it pooled in her belly. Bellatrix gasped.

    "Yes! It works! It works it works it works I can't believe it on the first try it really works!"

    It may have been working, but it was the second most uncomfortable inflation Hilda ever experienced (nothing could beat the butt inflation suppository) in her life. She almost immediately had to unbutton her pants and unzip her fly to relieve some of the rapid buildup of pressure. Her belly shoved its way through her tank top and pants like a brute. It looked like a rapid fire pregnancy, as does all belly inflation, her skin rapidly going through pangs to accommodate the growth. Her whole belly was uncovered -thanks to Alba- and tight as a drum. The longer it went on, the harder it was for Hilda to hold her breath (imagine trying to hold your breath with empty lungs) and at the same time not complain about her ballooning gut. God, she hated inflating! Finally, after the longest ten seconds of her life, Bellatrix gave her the go ahead. Hilda gasped for breath and wheezed for nearly a minute before regaining her composure.

    "So, how was it?"


    Hilda looked Bellatrix in the eyes.

    "That was fucking awful."

    Bellatrix flinched like she was hit by a wrench.

    "Oh."

    Hilda rubbed her belly to soothe the aching pressure that she hated so much. There was no way she could cover herself like this, and if she knew anything about anything, it was that she would be stuck like this for much longer than she hoped. Her cardigan, the only warm thing she owned that wasn't a heavy jacket, was stretched beyond oblivion. Clearly, there was a potency problem. This was far larger than what she expected, nearly double in fact. She expected to look about the average size of a woman at term, but instead her belly button reached her knees. She leaned back as far as she could and spread her legs apart to give room for her temporary and turgid girth. The last thing she cared about was people looking at her panties, which peeked out from her unzipped fly like a mischievous child. They were violet lace, by the way.

    "Well, that's what I get get for not taking my fucking sweater off." Hilda said under her breath.

    Phoebe snatched the hose from Hilda's hands and greedily stuffed it into her mouth.

    "Jeez, there's something called manners! Do me a favor and look it up sometime."

    Phoebe ignore her and slowly inhaled. Like before, the inflation promptly kicked in after a few seconds and wasted no time on Phoebe, who kept inhaling. Her belly fat smoothed out into one continuous dome, along with the fat on her arms, thighs, and sides.

    "Hey Hilda, what's going on? That's supposed to be a belly inflation potion."

    Phoebe's belly grew in no time and stretched her robe. Soon her breasts and butt joined in as well.

    "Hilda? She's not supposed to be growing all over!"

    Her sides easily blended with her belly to make her torso nearly spherical in seconds. Her bloated butt and back tipped her off the couch and she fell a short distance onto her belly, and kept inhaling.

    "Calm down, it's just basic physics. The air wants to go where the least pressure is. All magic does is contain it in one place or another before the pressure overpowers the magic."

    "For god's sake, spit it out Phoebe!"

    Bellatrix ripped the hose out of Phoebe's mouth, but not before things could get out of hand. Phoebe still held her breath and watched with glee as her already rotund body got rounder by absorbing her limbs until only her hands and feet were left. Her robe was as thin as one ply toilet paper by this point, and only managed to cover the top half of her body. Her nipples (apparently Phoebe didn't wear a bra today) were like huge tacks poking through the fabric, and the rubbing was by any definition not a bad feeling for Phoebe.

    "This wasn't supposed to happen! It's belly inflation!"

    Phoebe's inflation crawled to a halt as she crested five and three quarters feet wide, and the last of her breasts sank into her body. Judging by how tight her skin was, and the relative smoothness of her body, she didn't have much room left. Hilda stood up gently, mindful of her own tight body, and gave Phoebe a pat on her derriere -an electric feeling that made Phoebe tremble in delight. Phoebe gasped for air, making her body creak like -what else?- a balloon with every wheezing breath.

    "Well, this was fun but I gotta scoot and get some work done."

    "Bye -heeh- Hilda!" Phoebe flapped her hands in an attempted wave.

    Luther was the most unlikely ex-boyfriend one could expect Hilda to have. He was a toneless, shapeless bore with as much emotional expression as a block of wood. It was no mystery why, after dating for three months, she dumped him like a sack of potatoes. He was standing behind the 'open bar', which was really just a few bottles of chemically altered booze on a folding table. Like always, he was wearing a bland tee shirt and jeans under an equally ugly leather trench coat. His hairstyle was reminiscent of a coconut, with it's round brown shell and odd hairs wildly poking out. Unfortunately for Hilda, he was the only other alchemist in the coven. And a damn good one at that. Hilda walked up to the table and rolled her eyes. As usual, Luther was on his phone and not paying attention.

    "Ahem!"

    Luther briefly looked up from his phone.

    "Is it a boy or a girl?"

    Hilda crossed her arms and glared.

    "It's a gas."

    "Who's the father?"

    "I'm not pregnant, you jackass!"

    "Disappointing. What do you want?"

    "I've got a special order from a very important client that I'm having trouble getting worked out and I'm running out of time."

    "What a tragedy."

    "Ugh, shut up. I have a working recipe for the potion's effects, but it's not potent enough."

    "So you need my help."

    "I... No, well, uh, I don't exactly need help but you have ingredients that, uh..."

    "Sure. I'm not busy."

    "I, uh... That was easier than I expected."

    Luther pocketed his phone and stuffed his bottles of altered liquor into a backpack.

    "Hold on one sec."

    He walked up to one of the bloated spheres playing poker and said something in his ear, then walked back to Hilda.

    "He was my ride home. Wanted to let him know I was leaving."

                                                                           ~&&~
    Hilda's third-hand Corolla squealed into a space in the largely empty parking garage across from Luther's apartment building. The former textile mill he called home was about as close to a ghetto as Heavensport had. It looked like a set for a scrapped horror film. Luther grabbed his backpack, stepped out of the car, and shut the door behind him.

    "Almost forgot to mention, I have a girlfriend. Don't be an asshole."

    "Okay, okay. Don't need to tell me twice."

    The inside of the building was worse than the exterior. Numerous stains painted the flesh-tinged beige hallway walls, and walking down them had the unpleasant look of a colonoscopy. Luther unlocked the door to his apartment.

    "Sorry my apartment's a mess."

    It was marginally better than the building at large, but that was hardly praiseworthy. Across from the CRT television next to the door was a dirty grey futon that sat in the center of the living room like an island with snack wrapper beachheads on a sickly blue-green carpet sea. The room was so small that while the futon could fit three comfortably, it could not sit comfortably in the room. There was just enough room on one side to scoot by. After Hilda walked in, Luther locked the door as quickly as he could.

    "The meeting's over already?" Someone, presumably Luther's smoking hot girlfriend, asked from the closed off bedroom next to the futon.

    "No, left early. Keep your clothes on, we have company."

    As Luther sat down on the futon, the door was yanked open and in a flash Luther was tackled by a girl much shorter and fatter than Hilda expected, which was a major relief. Luther went stiff as a board while his girlfriend squeezed him like a teddy bear and pecked him on the cheek like a chicken, giggling at his clear discomfort. Her black hair -cut in a bob- bounced up and down.

    "Nice to meet you." Hilda said.

    Luther's chunky as Chips Ahoy girlfriend bolted upright, red as a tomato.

    "Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry I forgot immediately we had company!" She climbed off of Luther and straightened her tee shirt and sweatpants. "Sorry, my name is Cassia."

    "Hilda. Nice to meet you." Hilda sat down on the couch and pulled her little black notebook out of her pocket.

    Cassia timidly rubbed her hands, still standing like an idiot. "What's that?"

    "Potions."

    "Oh, that's cool." Cassia stared at Hilda's massive gut.

    Hilda flipped it open and handed it to Luther.

    "Okay, so the problem isn't so much the potion, that works fine. It's just too weak."

    "Did you try adding moss milk?"

    "That wouldn't work. The alligator toe jam negates it."

    "Not if it's a powder."

    "It's too thick already. I'm not making pancake batter."

    Not really knowing what to do, Cassia sat down on the futon as gently as she could and watched them banter back and forth, fidgeting like a child at a party with no playmates.

    "So..." Cassia said.

    Hilda and Luther stopped talking and snapped their attention toward her, making her already pink skin turn red again.

    "Uh... Wh-when's your uh, your due date?"

    Hilda looked down at her bloated stomach.

    "I'm -not- pregnant!"

    "Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry!"

    Hilda grumbled and went back to bantering.
   
    This went on for an excruciating length of time. One of them would bring up some weird thing, the other would say no and complain about some other weird thing, remove a weird thing they added earlier, add a different weird thing, and then bring up a weird thing they talked about ten minutes ago. Cassia had felt this uncomfortable only once before, and it was wrenching her gut with anxiety.

    "Uh... What, uh..."

    Hilda glared at Cassia.

    "What, u-uh, what about using eye of, uh, eye of newt?"

    "Ugh! I'm not making a love potion! And besides, those negate the roots of some evil."

    "Sorry!"

    "And don't even think about wing of bat! It negates the worry warts!"

    "Sorry."

    Luther tapped Hilda on the shoulder. Hilda blushed for a second, nodded her head, and mumbled a weak apology.

    "Let's go to the laboratory."

    Now left alone to writhe in anxiety with her own awkwardness and pent up embarrassment, Cassia felt even worse.

    The laboratory was mostly one in name. It was once a generously large pantry, but now served to store the wide variety of things Cassia wasn't allowed to touch or use in any cooking whatsoever. Not after she mistook the misplaced bag of demonic foot cheese for her cayenne peppers.

    Hours passed by like a lifetime while Cassia sat on the couch trying to think of how to apologize. There was nothing she could see or hear from behind the locked door that could be considered progress, aside from the occasional fizzle, pop, and expletive. Eventually, she fell asleep on the couch. Which didn't last long. Soon after she dozed off, the door was practically kicked open, sending Cassia flailing off the couch.

    Hilda, looking haggard and exhausted, marched out of the lab with a test tube in her hand.

    "Eureka! God, I always wanted to say that."

    Cassia looked from behind the couch. Apparently it was morning, and did Hilda give birth- no, she really wasn't pregnant. The vial was an unassuming violet, and looked as inert as flat soda. Luther stumbled out of the lab and listed as he stood. His eyes looked devoid of life.

    "Hi Cassia."

    "Did you get it-"

    "Yes it is!" Hilda beamed.

    Luther shuffled into the living room and fell onto the futon, asleep before he even landed. Cassia wandered into the kitchen, where Hilda was scribbling in her notebook.

    "What is it?"

    "This, " Hilda said, holding the vial like a lost treasure, "Is three thousand dollars!"

    "Does it work?"

    Hilda deflated.

    "Well, in theory yes. I'll need to test it... I guess. I just need someone with an innate reserve of magicks."

    Cassia brightened up at the opportunity of being useful.

    "I have one! I'll test it for you!"

    Hilda looked at her skeptically, then handed it to her.

    "Okay, so how it works is- WAIT DON'T DRINK IT YET!!"

    Cassia was so ecstatic that she could be helpful that she downed the contents without even a gulp.

    "Why not?"

    "Jst- Jst- Let me explain first!"

    "Sorry."

    "I mean, come on! Rude!"

    "Sorry."

    Hilda sighed.

    "Well, anyways, it depletes the drinker's magicks reserve and turns it into a gas to pacify them."

    Cassia eyes shattered open.

    "Really?! Uh, that's not uh... Do you have an antidote?"

    "No, why? I'm not being paid for one."

    Cassia started hyperventilating.

    "You gotta- You gotta make one! Quick, before it kicks in! I need an antidote!"

    "Calm down, calm down! You'll be fine! Even the most skilled humans have tiny magick reserves. All it'll do is bloat you a little."

    "What?! No, you don't understand! I'm not a human!" Cassia grimaced and started scratching her arm. "It's so itchy! Hilda, do something!"

    "Like what? What the fuck is going on?"

    Cassia scratched more, flakes of pink skin coming off like sand. "Make an antidote or something!" As she scratched, her skin turned redder and redder in the places she scratched. "It's so itchy!" She grimaced again, her teeth looking far sharper than they were moments ago.

    "Are you allergic or something? What do I do?"

    "I need an antidote! Please!" Cassia's arms and neck were now crayola red from scratching, and she moved on to scratching all over her body.

    "Maybe you should stop scratching for starters!"

    "Why are you still here?! Make an antidote!" Skin peeled off her face like layers of paint, turning redder and redder. Her eyes flushed from jade green to bright yellow. She scratched her head furiously, dandruff falling out like sawdust as her hair curled.

    "I don't know how, okay?! It takes days to make a recipe for anything! I can't just do it on the fly!"

    "Then what good are you?!" Cassia threw off her sweat pants and fell on her rear, rabidly scratching her red legs. As she scratched, her leg hair grew and thickened until there were patches of thick black fur.

    "It's not my fault! What the hell is happening?"

    "What do you think?! I'm changing back!" Cassia groaned as her feet ripped through her socks, elongating like extruding sausages. Her toenails turned black as her toes morphed and molded into one on each foot, then were consumed by her growing toenail. Fur sprouted out of her foot.

    "Changing back into what? What's happening to your feet?!"

    "They're turning back into hooves, idiot! Isn't it obvious?!" Cassia eased herself back to her feet- er, hooves, as her legs shifted and her bones changed position. A little tail sprouted out of her behind and popped out from under her pink panties, which looked decidedly strange on top of a thick layer of fur. "I hate these stupid goat legs!" Cassia's hooves clopped on the pseudo-linoleum floor of the kitchen as she stomped in frustration.

    "What the hell are you?!"

    "Exactly!" Cassia grabbed her head and covered her face with her arms. Seconds later, with a sound like fabric tearing, two grey points forced their way between her fingers. "No! No! Go away! Go away!" Her hands were forced out of the way as two horns grew like bamboo shoots out of her forehead, curling backward in a huge two hundred and seventy degree arc.

    "Horns?!"

    "Now do you get it?! I'm a freak!" Her horns added more than two feet to her height, the points looming above Hilda. "I think it's stopped."

    "What... Are you a...."

    "Demon." Cassia smiled out of humiliation, showing off her razor sharp canines. Her fingernails were more like claws attached to fingers. Her eyes were like two yellow fires of embarrassment glowing with shame. Her mat of curly black hair was parted by two enormous ibex horns, which were only out matched by her satyr-esque legs in grabbing attention. Cassia sighed and sliced her panties off with her claws. It wasn't like they did anything useful anymore.

    "It can't be over yet. It can't be."

    "It seems so to me." Out of cosmic spite, as soon as Cassia finished that sentence she felt her stomach growl. "Oh, you're- come on! Isn't this enough?" Cassia wrapped her arms around her gut and whined as her belly pushed back. Simultaneously, her breasts and furry butt began to grow as well.

    Hilda began backing up.

    "Just how much magicks do you have?"

    "A lot more than a human!" Cassia's arms thickened with gas as her butt grew larger and larger. Her belly, refusing to be denied, finally burst through Cassia's grip, already the size of Hilda's earlier. Her hooves could barely keep her standing as her thickening thighs forced her legs farther apart until she toppled onto her stomach, bouncing just a little bit. Her shirt rode up her stomach and stopped just under her breasts. "Why does this have to be so fast?" Cassia's arms and legs stiffened as her back began to inflate as well. Her butt joined with her back and belly to make Cassia's torso one huge curve. Her arms and legs jutted out like traffic cones, but quickly began receding into her growing body. Her shirt began groaning as the fabric was stretched at its limit by her basketball sized breasts.

    Hilda sprinted into the living room and took shelter behind the futon where Luther was still somehow asleep. "Luther! Luther, wake up you idiot!"

    Cassia's shirt tore to shreds. "Hilda! Where did you go? Help me!"

    Luther snapped awake and rushed into the kitchen, displaying the most emotion Hilda had ever seen.
   
    "What did you do?!"

    Cassia smiled, unsuccessfully trying to disarm him.

    "I can explain!" Cassia's spherical body towered ominously in the kitchen, already grazing the ceiling. Her arms and legs made divots in her body, and miraculously her horns did not pop her. "I... uh..." Her body groaned as it continued to grow. "I wanted to... test out Hilda's... Potion."

    Luther wheeled around to Hilda.

    "You're paying for every cent when my next rent is due!"

    Hilda flinched in surprise.

    "I- uh..." She shifted her eyes. "Luther, you're so manly when you take charge!"

    "Can it and get your checkbook!"

    "Uh... Guys?" Cassia's body groaned and distended against the ceiling. She looked like a six foot wide cherry half dunked in chocolate. "I'm in...Kind of a jam... Here!" Gas, searching for new places to go, puffed her cheeks up. In addition to that, the mounting pressure was not making it easy to speak.

    "Oh shit."

    "I always wanted to test my wards. But I don't think I'll want to test them again after this." Luther mumbled.

    Cassia was not doing very well. No matter how long it went on, it never ended. The pressure pushing on every square inch of her body made everything feel stiff as a board, and her back felt like it was being stabbed by the paint creases on the ceiling. Her sides folded over the counters as the room felt much, much smaller than before.

    "I think it's slowing down!"

    Cassia groaned. "R-really?"

    "No." Luther interjected.

    Cassia's head bulged through the doorway to the living room. "N-no... Wait I think it's... Actually- stopping!"

    Hilda sighed in relief and sat down on the futon. "That's good news. Well, it's been great being here but I've got to..." Hilda felt around in her pockets. "Where's my notebook?!"

    Cassia cleared her throat.

    "I think I... feel -some... metal spirals... stabbing my knee." Cassia smiled, thoroughly embarrassed again. "I -bet... If you -brewed... an anti... dote, then you- ergh... could get it -back."

    Luther checked his phone. "I have time. Let's go."

    Hilda sighed. It wasn't like she had a choice in the matter.

    Luther planted a kiss on Cassia's shoulder... body... something. "Be back soon."

    And then Cassia was left alone again. If she didn't feel like she was being pulled on a rack sitting on a bed of nails while being forcefed a turkey dinner after eating Mentos and drinking a two liter bottle of coke, she probably would have taken a nap. Well, at least it feels kind of nice, right? That's a positive. Cassia sighed, making her body creak. Distantly, she heard her stomach growl.

    "Better... Hurry -up..."