Chapter 1

Contains Female WG & GTS. The intro is long, and contains some arguing, but the weight gain is fast. Oh, and just to make it perfectly clear, the main characters are NOT brother and sister. Enjoy!



How did we get to this point? How did a simple walk through the forest turn into me arguing with my best friend as we both freeze to death in the snow? "How was I supposed to know it'd start snowing in the middle of the Summer?" I shout, the only way she'd hear me over the freezing winds. "You could've at least had SOME sort of emergency plan, Hank!" Greta replies, projecting a deal of anger you wouldn’t expect from someone of her short stature and stick thin frame. "I did have a plan! I left a trail of breadcrumbs!" "We were going to use that bread to make sandwiches!"

I should probably back up a bit. It all started this morning. It's Greta's birthday, and she wanted to go the beach. But there was just one small problem: all the roads were blocked off. We actually spent an hour driving around, before eventually, I just suggested we park somewhere close to the beach and walk from there.

So that brings us to now, walking through the forest, in the midst of an unexplainable blizzard. "This is just great! I'm cold! I'm starving! Honestly, this is the best birthday present ever! I always wanted to freeze to death!" Greta shouts. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen, okay?!" I reply, on the verge of tears. "Hank...I don't wanna argue. Let's just focus on staying alive, okay?" she says, trying her best not to cry as well. I nod.

Just then, I notice something, "Greta, look!" I exclaim, pointing at a faint orange glow in the fog. She gasps, "Do you think someone's there?" "Let's see!" We run as fast as we can towards the light in the distance, taking long steps so we can get through the thick, summer snow.

*********************

Greta and I have been friends for a long time. We were next door neighbors as kids. Her house had a swimming pool, my house didn't, so one day, my parents asked hers if I could come over. We've basically been best friends ever since. Her parents would always comment about “how nice our little Margaret is getting along with the boy next door.” Her parents always called her that, Margaret. She went for Greta for short. Some people call her Marge…she doesn’t usually like those people.

*********************

As we run closer and closer, we see that the source of light is from some sort of house. When we finally arrive, we make no haste in getting inside, not even bothering to knock first. "THANK GOD! WARMTH!" Greta exclaims as she darts in. Keep in mind, it's the middle of July, none of us even thought to bring winter gear. The moment we're both in, I shut the door, place my hands in my armpits, and sit down against the wall, curled in a ball.

“Hank, are you seeing this?” Greta asks in awe. I look up, only now realizing that this house is made entirely of candy. “This can’t be real…” I speak, taken aback, but not willing to muster the strength to get up. She takes a whiff, “It smells divine,” she says, ecstasy in her voice. While Greta is probably just as cold if not more so than I, her stomach has also been grumbling practically nonstop since we started walking. Her intense hunger outweighs her desire for warmth, and she starts nibbling on one of the dining room chairs. “Mmmmh! Sho good!” she says, a bright smile on her face. I swear, her smile is contagious. Whenever she does it, I can’t help but smile back.

“Hey Greta…I’m sorry I got us into this mess.” I apologize, head tilted down. She smiles at me, “It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean to.” “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” I ask. “Hmmm, well for starters, could you please look around the house to see if anyone’s home?” My feet still somewhat numb, I struggle to stand up, before searching the house for inhabitants. Greta, meanwhile, continues to feast on the peppermint legs and graham cracker seat of her chair.

I search through every room in this strange house. There are three bedrooms, four bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room. This is actually a pretty sizable house. And while I wasn’t searching rigorously for exceptions, it seems the only things in this house that aren’t made of candy are the blankets in the bedrooms and the toiletries in the bathrooms. And yet I couldn’t spot a single living soul. “I don’t think anyone’s home, Greta.” I speak to my friend, who continues to hungrily consume the candy chair. “[MMMH] That’sh good to know. If anyone comesh home [GULP] I’m sure we can explain to them the whole thing.” “Hey, Greta,” I ask, “do you need anything else? It was pretty cold out, I’m scared we might’ve gotten hypothermia.” “It’s weird, I was cold before, but once I started eating, I warmed right up…” “Really? What’s in this candy?” I ask. She offers me a piece of the chair. Hesitantly, I decide to take a bite. “Did that help?” she asks sincerely. “…A bit…but not much…” “Aww, I’m sorry…” “I don’t think I have hypothermia…I don’t think…I think I just need to get under some covers and lie down…are you gonna be okay down here?” I ask, still concerned for my best friend. “I’ll be fine. Just get some rest,” she reassures me. “Okay…happy birthday, Greta.” I say, sincerely. “Thanks Hank,” she replies with a slight smile. I smile back, even her lesser smiles are contagious.

*********************

G reta and I went to school together, from elementary to high. We’d often be in the same classes together, and usually sit together at lunch. She always had a specific look to her: long, straight, blonde hair down to her hips, a modest blouse, and usually some sort of accessory in her hair. When we were walking through the forest, she was wearing a blue plastic headband. She was taller than me when we were kids, but when we hit puberty, I became the tall one. Now that we’re both adults, she stands at a petite 4’9, 85 lbs. (152 cm, 41 kg), whereas I stand at 5’8, 120 lbs. (170 cm, 54 kg). We were always best friends, but never more than that…not that I didn’t think about being more. I was always scared if we dated, it would ruin things between us. Besides, we were always dating someone else. She dated 2 guys in high school, and I dated…one girl, for like a week. Well, okay, but I had more relationships when I went off to college. As for Greta, she actually almost got engaged. They were both really happy together, but then he proposed, and that was the last I ever heard of him.

*********************

I’m woken up by a lovely voice whispering in my ear, “Pssst! Hank!” “Hmm?” I ask, turning to face the blonde beauty. Thoroughly convinced the events I experienced were nothing but a dream, I'm surprised when I turn to see the same gingerbread house, the same chocolate bar door, and the same icing lined ceiling. To be honest, though, the most surprising thing I see is Greta herself. She’s now a much different looking woman than she was this morning. Her once petite A cups have grown to triple Ds at least. Her once small bottom has rounded out to be shapely and plump. Even her once flat belly now has a layer of pudge on it. “Hey, Hank…would you mind coming downstairs for a bit?” She asks, a bit of concern on her face.