Don't Mess with Grammy Parsnips

"You may as well give up now." A soft, airy voice purrs at me. It belongs to Drexel Devilheart, chief among the Demon King's warriors - his handsome, pointed features on display as his lips curl into a cocky smirk. Drexel's infernal heritage is betrayed by his coloring, skin as blue as the sky, hair like shining silver, eyes like blood. His slender but muscled form adorned with little but leather pants that are said to be made from the cured hide of holy beasts and a series of chain-like tattoos that run along the length of his right arm.

 

Truth be told, his appearance would be laughably ostentatious if I wasn't aware that this man had slain the finest warriors in the kingdom with his vast array of magical abilities. The Princess whimpers behind me, grasping my hand tightly. She is our last hope, the only one capable of wielding the Scepter of Rainbows and defeating the dark lord and his forces once and for all. But she is still young and has much to learn. If Drexel can strike her down, the land is doomed to remain forever under the control of his evil master. His grin breaks into a taunting laugh as I stare at him defiantly.

 

"Oh-ho? You plan on opposing me, old woman? What are you going to do, nag me to death?"

 

"Young man, I'm willing to spare you any punishment if you just turn around and let this poor girl be." I adjust my bonnet so he can see I mean business. "So swears Grammy Parsnips, Fairy Godmother and Good Witch of the North."

 

He laughs again, harder this time. Can't be helped, some kids always insist on learning the hard way. He holds out a hand, a bit of purplish energy welling up in his palm. It comes hurtling my way with a flick of his finger. He's not taking this seriously so it bounces off the magic shield I've already set up, landing some distance behind me with a thundering boom.

 

"Well well, it looks like you can defend yourself! No matter, I'll-"

 

"You've already gone ahead and shown me your weakness young man, I don't think you should be talking big." I chuckle. "The markings, your obvious favoring of your right arm - you're using conduit sorcery! I've not seen it for some time now..."

 

Drexel glowers at me, his eyes literally illuminated with anger. The princess grabs my hand in fear.

 

"What of it!? I will not be spoken down too by some senile old woman-" He extends his hand again, pulling forth more energy from the air. This time I respond as well, with a small wink. His magic sputters out and the rage on his face fades, leaving only confusion. He tries again - little happens but a sad little pop noise.

"What did you do!?" Drexel snarls, baring his prominent fangs.

 

"Just a matter of rerouting the magic flow child. Let me put it to you this way; you're still summoning magical energy. It's just not showing up where you expect it to."

 

His eye began to twitch it white hot fury, and he opened his mouth to shout - unleashing a belch of oddly colored gas instead. He looked to me in horror, and soon enough his flat stomach was beginning to push outwards in a dramatic fashion as dark magic began to build up inside his soon-to-be-not-so slender form. His hands flew down to his belly, pressing down in an attempt to abate its unrelenting billowing. For a moment, it seemed like he succeeded, but it became clear he had only displaced the girth: his chest jutted forward comically and his arms shot into a spread position as his upper half grew rigid and puffy. 

"This can't be happening!" He shouted, protesting something that could be more visibly confirmed with each moment. His slick waist vanished over an increasingly puffy muffin of blue flesh that squeezed over the the top of his struggling belt. His belly had swollen forth enough that it was in poking distance, so I obliged with a chuckle.

"Gracious, you still have plenty of give." My finger sunk in quite a bit, causing a significant indent on the smooth warm surface. Even the princess couldn't help but giggle a bit. Drexel's face flushed a bright purple - I imagine this was quite mortifying for a celebrated young officer of the dark army - and forgot himself for a moment.

"You hag! I can still-" His arrogant tone cracked into a sad grunt as he attempted to bring his fist down upon my head. This would have been quite deadly just a few minutes ago, but he discovered that his arms and chest had gotten so puffed up that the motion was impossible. He barely managed to shift his increasing girth enough to stumble about in an awkward manner. I usher the princess back a bit as I watch the strain on his pants increase, the leather creaking loudly as his legs and backside also begin to grow. He whimpers a as the formerly snug garment sways into the "painfully tight" and then "suffocating categories.

A hint of a blush crosses my own cheeks. It's been a while since I've humbled some handsome upstart in such a manner, and I'm enjoying myself a bit too much. He pathetically attempts to undo his belt, unable to reach his fattened arms over his absurdly large stomach and I almost pity him. Still, the princess needs to see that evil can be defeated; she's seen it victorious all too often in the last few days.

We both gawk as he wobbles to and fro for a bit before a sudden surge of pressure billows him enough to pin his arms into a spread position. An absolutely humiliated look crosses his face as his cheeks swell a bit and his pants finally give way to massive lower half. As they tear away I recall that devilkin are anatomically similar to humans and cover the princess's eyes. Still, the glance I do get before his thighs blimp enough to obscure things partially explains all those affairs with the enemy my compatriots had when we were young.

Soon he's more or less imprisoned by his own magically engorged body. I give things a moment before I let go of the princess's hand to approach him for inspection. His figure widens the most at the center, his waist thickened and belly ballooned enough that they have merged into a taut, globular mass. His chest and shoulders have retained some shape, but it's an absurd and puffy looking, like a sculpture made from rising dough. I extend my finger to give him another gentle poke, and he yelps like it's a dagger.

"Hmm, hmm, looks like you're near your limit here..." I circle him, scratching my chin.

"Crone! Lapdog of the light! I..." His face reddens further as he notices I'm behind him now, and feels my hand give his immensely padded posterior a playful thump. "I beg you! J-just return me to normal! I'll be your eternal servant, just don't....don't..."

"Don't what, dear?" I've circled fully around him, looking up at his panicked face, round cheeks quivering. He can barely see me over his impossibly large gut.

"Don't let me burst!" He begged sincerely. I sigh, smiling a gentle smile.

"Heavens, I'd never do such a thing. The first thing we learn as servants of good is mercy." The princess approaches as well, and I see the tension in both their faces vanish.

"Truly, I have misjudged the forces of good..." Drexel can't help but smile.

"Though the princess and I still do need a way out of here, no way we are hoofing it to the Rainbow Palace!" I work a bit of magic, summoning a spacious basket and a bit of rope that creeps towards Drexel and encircle his ankles, perhaps the one part of him not terribly bloated.

"...You're kidding." His demeanor switches once more, this time to dumbfounded. Another set of cords lash out and wrap around his wrists, squeezing their larger circumference a bit.

"Not for a minute. Now you relax..." I chant a final spell, asking for a bit of help from the wind. Drexel's body gurgles and bulges even further outward, his curses muffled by increasingly round cheeks as he begins to float into the air.

"C'mon dear." I pull the princess into the basket just as Drexel's body puffs into a blue sphere with massive limbs and a head, pulling our makeshift vehicle upwards. "And don't you worry, Grammy will get us to a nice, safe place."

She's not listening to me though, she seems a bit too taken with Drexel's current form to think of much else, her eyes never leaving the devilkin dirigible above us. I fear I may have just provided her young mind with a formative experience of sorts.

She wouldn't be the first pervert with an important destiny, I suppose.