Chapter 4 - best served large

I trotted down to the camp on my horse. If you think this is because I escaped the clutches of the dragon, I have something to tell you.
After the dragon discovered that the knights and townsfolk gathered in the shadow of the Stolen Mountain were there for the purpose of fattening the dragon over several months in order to kill it, it declared revenge so furiously that I thought it would make the whole camp burst into flames just by thinking about it. Because I had distanced myself from their plotting, the dragon enlisted me as part of its own plot, the details of which it refused to tell me.
"You'll sssee," it had hissed, grinning malevolently. I just hoped the fate of the knights wouldn't be too gruesome.

I tied my steed to a tree at the edge of camp and made my way quietly towards the camp. Hiding behind a tent, I waited for my first victim. He appeared almost immediately; Johnson, the most deadly wielder of swords and the possessor of the most beautiful fair hair and taut muscles in the land.
"Pssst."
Johnson looked around until he saw me.
"Oh! Sir! You're ba-"
"Shhh, Johnson! I need your help up at the mountain!"
Johnson was wary.
"The dragon? I will fetch the others-"
"No! The situation is too... delicate. I need only your consummate hand."
Johnson ran his fingers through his hair, hand on his hip.
"Fine, lead the way!"

* * *

"Are we almost there?" Johnson asked in hushed tones, his hand fixed to the hilt of his sword.
"Yep," I replied, "just about."
As we approached the mouth of the cave, a strange whistling could be heard.
"My," said Johnson, "that is the most beautiful music I have ever heard!" He took charge, telling me to follow him.
This was the music of the dragon, which the creature used to lure its prey. It promised it wouldn't not work on me; Johnson's reaction to the tune was proof enough of that.
We entered the cave.
"It's coming from in here," said Johnson, hand back on hilt. "We need to find out where it's coming fro-"
He stopped dead. There was a perfectly golden roast chicken on a plate sitting on the cave floor ahead, steaming.
Confused, I tried whispering to Johnson to mind the food, but he was already standing over it, hands on slender hips again.
"Hmmm... this is strange," he said, "the music must have been leading to this." He seemed to have completely forgotten about the dragon.
He tore a leg off; the juicy flesh seemed to fall away.
"I haven't eaten properly in days," said Johnson. "You don't mind if I-?"
"Not at all," I said, smiling weakly, "it looks delicious. Knock yourself out."
Johnson grinned his beautiful grin at me, cocky as anything. "I'll save you some," he said, waving the leg at me before sinking his teeth into the juicy flesh.

What happened next, I could only describe as magic. Johnson's whole body stiffened, and when I walked over to see his face, his eyes were now glazed over, his face in a dull stupor.
"Johnson?" I said, tapping his muscled arm. Johnson didn't look at me, only at the chicken leg and, a big, stupid grin spreading on his face, he started devouring it.
I recoiled. "What the-"
Johnson tore at the flesh of the leg, not like a hungry man but a man possessed, gulping down huge chunks in loud slurps.
I saw a red glint in the corner of my eye and turned to see the dragon emerging from its hiding place, lumbering over to stand over Johnson's feeding form, lowering its head until its mouth was right beside his ear.
"That's right, swordsman," it whispered, "eeaaat."
Johnson dropped the chicken leg like he hadn't just sucked it dry of meat, and dropped to his knees, feverishly tearing apart the chicken breast and stuffing it into his greedy mouth, juice dripping down his face and bits of chicken dropping to the floor as he put more in than he could handle.

As we stood watching, I tore my gaze away from the hunched figure to the dragon.
"So, what is this going to accomplish? Stuffing him with food isn't going to do anything."
The dragon looked at me, a mischievous glint in its blue eye, and he gestured back at the feeding knight. I look over, and gasped.
Johnson's weight had risen dramatically; from the back, I could see his love handles gradually expanding, making his undershirt ride up to expose the pale, jiggling flesh. I looked back at the dragon. "How-?"
"My kind can enchant any substance, like milk, water, food," it said happily, "to do anything I want it to."
"Anything?" A nod.
"Anything. I've used it to make the food ten times as fattening to him. It will not end until he has gained the same weight in a few minutes as I gained over several months. Proportionate to his size, of course."

I looked back, in a kind of admiration. Johnson was now double his original weight; his love handles had expanded so much that his undershirt was now wrapped tightly up around his chest, his pants being pushed down and soft fat leaking over them. I walked around him to get a better look. His face was coated in grease and that stupid, dazed grin, his undershirt now slipping beneath his swollen moobs, revealing a huge, fleshy belly which pushed against the front of his plate armour. I noticed that he was still eating the same roast chicken, and turned to the dragon.
"What's with the chicken? I thought it would be finished by now but it just seems to remain the same." The dragon chuckled heartily.
"My boy," it said, "do you know not of our power of illusion? Look more closely."
I peered back at the chicken and recoiled. Johnson was stuffing his fat face with raw cow meat, a pile of which sat in front of him, and blood and fat ran down his chubby cheeks. I had to admire the deviousness of the creature.
Johnson, while not halting his giant meal, grunted with discomfort as his belly strained against his armour. The front plate was slender and had suited the natural curvature of Johnson's body, but now his gut bulged around the metal, gradually pushing the inward curve outward. The strap dug into his generous love handles, and dug deeper and deeper, groaning with the strain of the knight's widening physique. His waistband snapped, sending a ripple up his love handles. At this stage his moobs were pushing the front plate away even further, his belly being squished to high heaven as it struggled to break loose of the constraints of the armour. After another few seconds of rapid growing, it got its wish; the side straps of his armour broke with an almighty SNAP and the front plate was thrown forward, letting a tidal wave of belly surge into his lap, bursting the button on his pants as well. There was a tearing noise as his undershirt tore up the side of his moob and up his flabby bicep.

Then, Johnson stopped eating. He sat back, burped loudly, and patted his massive belly, grinning with stupid satisfaction, armour scattered around him in pieces. After a few seconds, Johnson's belly gurgled again, and the chubby knight sat there staring at his new gut, a look of dull confusion on his face. His belly leapt forward another few inches, falling to the floor with a soft "fap", and his moobs and biceps widened further, ripping the remains of his undershirt to pieces, leaving the rags to fall off. The knight was left naked, his flesh completely exposed.
"Wow," I remarked. "What a porker."
The dragon grinned.
"This is only the beginning. Now we send him back to his comrades, and lure more to the same fate."

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

The knights came easily after that, one by one following me under the pretence of "rescuing" Johnson. One by one, the dragon whispered commands in their waiting ears, one by one growing into fat pigs, and then being guided by me back to the edge of the camp.

As I came back for another knight, Johnson finally found his way to the camp.
I found the commander, aghast, staring at a fat, naked Johnson, who stood there in the cool night air, blood dried into his chubby cheeks, belly rippling with every movement and shining pale in the twilight. He was in the middle of explaining how he couldn't remember anything.
"I don't know, sir, I woke up near to the camp and I was like this," he said, clutching his big belly in shock.
"The mountain is cursed, you idiot," the commander barked, visibly shocked. "Why would you venture near to it?"
"I don't know sir, I can't remember! And now I look like a prized sow," Johnson whined. He looked to the left, and something caught his eye.
"Is that... chicken?" he said, eyes growing dull. The dumb look returned to his face and he lumbered past the commander. The commander's lip curled in disgust as the slurping noises began.
"Johnson, what are you doing? Stop it!" He ran over and tried to pry the chicken from Johnson's hands, only to be batted away. He tried (and failed) to wrap his arms around the knight's growing gut to tackle him, but the hypnotised knight wasn't fazed, hot grease dripping onto the rippling expanse of his belly. The commander stepped back, both hands on his head.
"What is this?" he groaned.
"Sir, look...!"
Another two knights had lumbered into the camp and, quickly became hypnotised again upon seeing the food tent. The commander screamed.
"THIS IS THE DRAGON'S DOING, I KNOW IT!!! RICARDO, FETCH MY ARMOUR..." He stopped, looking all around.
"Has anyone seen Ricardo?"
There was a chorus of mumbled "no"s as a look of despair grew on the commander's face.
"We have waited long enough, lads," he shouted, "our men are being taken from us, hypnotised to be as gluttonous as the dragon itself! But we know the creature has grown slow and fat! We shall take up arms, rescue our friend Ricardo, and kill the dragon! FOR OUR KING!!!" Every man in the camp shouted in agreement.
Oh God. I looked back towards the mountain. I had to get up there and warn the vulnerable dragon, before it met its gruesome fate.