thefattestwizard:

NOTE: This story doesn’t, in any way, reflect my personal views, politically or otherwise. Enjoy, and let me know what you think.

For as long as I could remember I had an interest in politics. I loved the game – the campaigning, the networking, the cocktail parties and campaign speeches. I was convinced that I would be the first true politician – not one that won based on corruption and financial bribery, but because they wanted to make a difference in the world, and create a voice for my up and coming generation.

            But when I lost the first race by a landslide, I became a little disheartened. All the hard work I put in the last two years was all for naught. After the tragic election party, I was approached by a group of older men in suits who said that they liked my style – even if I lacked what the voters were looking for. They said that they would love to sponsor me for the election. They seemed a little too old for my tastes, almost frail and weak looking. Certainly far more conservative for someone with my ideals. But I was desperate, and they promised me that the next race wouldn’t be a waste.

            And a waste it wasn’t. My next few months were full of informational meetings on my image – how to act, what to say, and what to wear. They explained that my state was far too conservative and stuck in its ways to go for such a young, budding democrat like myself. The voters needs someone that brooded not only confidence, but also displayed wisdom, and respect. To appease them, I dropped my current wardrobe of youthful suits and brighter ties in favor for darker jackets and beige, black, and grey ties. I cut my long unruly hair into a more defined style, and even fashioned a small well-kept goatee to give myself a more distinguished look. I changed my manner of speaking, opting in for a far more professional and distinguished tone and vocabulary.

The Power-6, as I’ve come to call them, even managed to sway me on some of my political opinions, toning back some of my more drastic views and sometimes getting me to do a complete reversal on some of my suggested policies. They had such good arguments for every point I tried to make in my defense, both of myself and the younger generation I once wanted to represent. They made me meet with former opponents and past republican representatives, and learn from their wisdom. I used to think that I was so current with my knowledge on our countries policies, laws, and current events – but they showed me that I was thinking all wrong. The younger generation didn’t care about the good of the county – they were more concerned about themselves, how they could free-load off the economy, receive wages they didn’t earn, even legalize disgusting drugs like marijuana. It didn’t matter that I had once wanted to realize a lot of the things they were preaching against – I had come to despise the very up-and-comers I originally set out to protect.

The republicans were showing me that I had less in common with people my own age, while simultaneously showing me that I shared so much more with the older generations before me. As a result I spent less time with my old college friends and former supporters, who complained that I acted distant, and less fun than they remember. Truth be told, I simply wasn’t enjoying subjecting myself to their naïve views. Instead I spent my time staying in educating myself about my political stance and practicing speeches that I planned to give for the upcoming race. My life became a cycle – wake up, drink coffee, read the newspaper, get dressed in a smart suit, and go to work. Afterwards I might grab dinner and maybe a few drinks with my fellow gentlemen and mentors, then go home, watch the news, and go to sleep promptly at 9.

 It was around the 6-month mark that I noticed I had lost all contact with my old college friends. I had long since deleted my social media websites, allowing my PR team to handle the increasingly complicated technology. My smartphone was placed with a more traditional flip-phone and pager, so that I could get in contact with my schedulers and contacts without being bogged down by all the widgets and gadgets I had no use for. It was around the 6-month time that I also began to notice some changes with my body. It started off small – I saw a slight wrinkles around my eyes and the corner of my mouth, a grey hair here and there. Then came a newfound softness to my figure, the gentle saggy feeling of my skin. As the hair, wrinkles, weight, and sagginess increased, I became a little concerned, and began to voice these concerns to my mentors. They told me to embrace who I was – every man must submit themselves to these changes sometime in their life. To appease them, I traded in frequenting the youthful clubs with their loud beats and sexual hunts – they no longer fit the older, heavier man I was becoming. Instead, my free time was spent golfing or visiting tennis matches, perhaps the occasional cocktail party to socialize and do some networking. However, my ideal Friday night became a quiet night at home with a good glass of scotch and a book.

I had lost all interest in chasing any sexual encounters, instead chasing voters and other prominent republican figures and sponsors who had promised me funding in return for a few favorable laws passed their way. The only time I experienced any sort of sexual behavior was when I watched myself preform one of my speeches in the mirror, or put on one of my power suits. I had become completely self-infatuated, and could only find release by staring at the man I was becoming in the mirror, stroking off my withering 6-inch member with a wrinkled, meaty paw, and occasionally twisting a saggy nipple through my dress shirt. I had come to appreciate my conservative look, and the power and dignity that it provided. Although I once thought of my mentors, the Power-6, as flabby, conservative, and weak, I now saw them as intelligent, distinguished, and willful gentlemen – not completely unlike myself. I even offered them sexual favors in return for the services they provided – which they all politely declined, citing that they had no need for such basic gratuities.

By the morning of my first campaign speech, I woke up and saw a totally unrecognizable man staring back at me in the mirror. Gone was the youthful, flamboyant, sexy 20-something, replaced by an old, grey-haired, conservative politician. My once tone body now supported a sagging chest full of white hair, a thick, round belly, and flabby thighs. I gave myself a stern look in the mirror, and felt my cock – all 4 inches of it, twinge underneath my gut. I ignored it, knowing that I had a schedule to maintain, and that my more-recent efforts to produce any kind of climax had proved unfruitful – it seemed over the last few months that it was if sex had become a decreasingly important part of my life.

In the back of my mind, I knew that I shouldn’t look like this, that a once-thin 25-year old man doesn’t become an old, late-50’s gentleman over the course of a year. But my schedule gave me no time to squander over these thoughts – I had a campaign to run, after all. I straightened my tie in the mirror, fixed my hair, and heaved a deep breath, my gut jiggling underneath my tie and dress shirt. A lot may have happened over the past year, but I knew something for certain – this election, I was going to win.

bodyswapper:

Body Queue

My town has this shop that not many know about. Not much is known about it either, but legend has it that it has magical properties. But rumor has it that you can change appearances there. I have waited so long to be able to go into this store. Now that I’m finally 16 I can drive there myself. I knew what I would change too, I wanted to be older, out of school by a while. It was too much for me and I needed a change.

I waited for a day where I had no homework, which just so happened to be today. I told my dad that I’m gonna be at my friends house and will be back later, hopefully my appearance change also changes reality. It wasn’t a very far drive, it took about 10 minutes to get there, and the store was ahead of me, it looked normal from the outside, but the inside would be completely different.

I walked in, entering the doors, but the windows just made the shop look like a clothing store, but I still entered anyway. As soon as the door closed behind me, the entire building shifted, making everything around me changed, I knew I was in the right store. Everything aligned, a red streak on the floor led away from me, I decided to follow. After trailing the streak, I was led to a counter, which had a woman there.

“I sense you know of the store and its magic, but you aren’t quite away of the magic it contains. Let me answer your question, this is a body swap shop, and no you can not choose anyone you like, we can only use the people that have come in here like you wanting a different life. We have many varieties to choose form if you wou-”

“Make me older, I don’t care the body I just need to be well out of school, give me a body.” I interrupted

“As you wish, your new body will be here in an hour, I suggest you lie down, the process can be a little tricky, I will also notify the body you will be switching into. Have fun. Also there is no refunds, so don’t come back complaining, this is one time only.”

I walked out of the store, thinking how could I be upset with being older? I drove back home.

The hour went by and I was lying on my bed, listening to what that lady told me. A tingling started forming in my feet, slowly rising. Nothing changed externally, but tingling was heavy. My vision blacked, but I still felt the tingle. The tingle changed into a slight pain, but not sharp nor bad pain. I tried to open my eyes but I couldn’t, my own body wouldn’t let me. The tingle vanished, as did the pain. I felt pressure relieve my eyes, and I was able to open them.

I woke up, and there was a nice plastered white ceiling and wall. I felt pushed down. I looked down and saw a giant bulge under my yellow shirt. I could feel my eyes widen. I sat up, struggling to do so, I saw my arms flailing, seeing the fat on them as well. I finally managed to stand up, unbuttoning my shirt while doing so. My belly plopped out when I did revealing my body, and a piercing? I pushed up the bottom of my belly, lowering my bottom lip, as the weight on my next kept it from staying up. I needed to find a mirror.

I stumbled into the bathroom. I looked at how big I was. I was definitely older like she promised. I should have chosen my body instead of this. But I couldn’t resist I pulled out my dick out of my black boxers. And starting beating my dick, I could hardly see it over my fat. I moved in front of the mirror while doing so, feeling my hair and face, pushing up my next, and rubbing my fat. I pumped and pumped until white liquid spewed in the toilet. I didn’t feel like cleaning it up later. I knew I had to go back to the lady, I know she said no refunds but I have to try.

I ran downstairs, or walked, I could hardly run like this. There were two kids, one of them saying “GRANDPA!” and running towards me and into my fat. I laughed and felt some sort of pride and happiness. I told him that I was going out and would be back soon. He looked a little sad but I headed out.

It was closer than before and I stormed in, my fat and limbs flailing, but within reason. I hardly noticed the building shift this time. The lady was waiting for me. I begged for my body back or to switch with another. There was a neon purple liquid in her hand. She handed me it, saying to drink this when I get home, promising me to clear up everything. I turned around, paying her before I left and drove home, I had to sneak in to prevent that kid from hugging me again.

I went into the bathroom I was in earlier. Sloshing the purple liquid around in its bottle. I looked at myself, thanking the lady silently for this. And drank. I felt the tingle again, my memories were fading, I couldn’t remember my old life. New ones flooded me, about 60 years of memories. The tingle stopped. I looked in the mirror, saw the same old face, and the same old weight. I fixed my hair, I felt comfortable, more than I’ve ever felt in a while. I pulled on some pants and headed downstairs to my grandchildren, I promised my son I would watch them for the day. I felt my belly bump up and down as I walked downstairs, and it felt just like it did everyday.

dogdazed:

Christmas weight gain comic