Harvest of The Pumpkins

Hey all. Back with another story! Been cranking this one out for a little bit as a sort of palate cleanse. This one's not a part of the usual canon, and it deals with heavy ass expansion. It's a really fetishy story, so if that ain't your thing, you probably won't get a lot of enjoyment out of it. For those of you that like that sort of thing, hope you enjoy!

Faith Alvarro was out of breath, out of energy, and out of patience. Irritated, she tossed the last of the gourds she and her partner had collected for that day into the bed of her truck. "Alright, Mags," she declared, wiping the sweat off her brow. "I'm sitting down for a spell. I'm pooped."

Maggie Muniz shot her a curious glance but didn't say anything. She instead elected to nod and continued pulling the squash up from the soil, trying to look busy as her boss precariously sat atop her truck's wheel well. Faith's chest rose and fell heavily as she removed her overcoat and felt the autumn breeze seep into her overheating body. She grit her teeth and cursed, tossing the coat to the ground.

"God damn it." she huffed, stomping her weary boot-clad feet into the Earth. It responded with a brittle thud -- not the sound she wanted to hear. It was early October, the gourds and squash were smaller than average, and the ground was getting too hard for them to mature before the harvest. She would be forced to deal with a smaller than average harvest this year. That wasn't a huge problem, more of a minor annoyance, truth be told. Faith had dealt with worse harvests than this, and she would deal with worse still afterward. What really drove her up a wall was that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't seem to catch her damn breath!

She stood straight up, listening to the creak of her overall straps, and placed her hands squarely on her head. She tried to breathe deeply... in, out, in, out, just like she had done a million times before after a long day's work... nothing. What on Earth had happened?! Faith was a farmer, not a doctor, but she knew damn well that a lady in her mid-20s shouldn't be put out by half a day of scrounging around in the dirt. Something was seriously wrong, and the sooner it resolved itself the better -- Faith Alvarro ALWAYS got what she wanted.

She must have been at it for five minutes or more when Maggie finally spoke up. "Miss Faith? Everything alright, ma'am?"

Faith waved a hand dismissively, still breathing heavy as before. "M'fine, Mags. You'd best quit calling me ma'am already, you been here long enough to know better."

"Yes ma- Faith." She rose effortlessly to her feet, a lithe, thin young woman with modest breasts that created a gentle hill on her chest and delicate hands with surprising strength to them. She showed off this strength by errantly tossing a few more squash over Faith's head and into the truck. Faith didn't even flinch. "If you don't mind my asking... what's going on? You've seemed out of sorts for the past few days.

"I ain't out of sorts. Upright, ain't I? C'mon, I want to check on the pumpkin patch before we got to bring them in, too."

"Ma'am, you're exhausted, you look like you can barely breathe. A lady of your size needs some time to recoup after some work like that. Why don't you just take a sec?"

Her size?! Faith barely heard the rest as an icy fury crept into her chest. She once again became aware of the October chill, and her hands balled into fists. "And just what do you mean by MY SIZE, Maggie?"

Faith could swear she heard Maggie's gulp from where she stood. That was good -- Maggie was only a year younger than her, and while she had never shown signs of insubordination, it was good to show who was the farmer and who was the farmhand once in a blue moon. It was because of this that Faith's anger was tempered with surprise as her partner began to approach her. "All I meant, ma'am, was-"

"I told you not to call me ma'am."

"Right! All... all I meant, Faith, was... well, your behind has gotten... a lot bigger since we started work together."

Faith was taken aback. Her fists unclenched, and one hand subconsciously migrated to her denim-clad posterior. It felt firm, tight underneath her wandering hand. Her butt? Bigger?...It was certainly possible, she had to admit. She had always been wider-set down south, blessed with a pair of impressive birthing hips that lowered her center of gravity and gave her a hell of a hip check. Her thighs had been tested time and time again after decades of heavy lifting and couching in the mud, and they had grown thick and powerful in response. All that together... she supposed that came with the side effect of having a working-class girl's backside, one you could bounce a quarter off of, or twenty. It was wide, it was rippling with muscle, and yes, it drew eyes whenever she walked into a room. Despite that, Faith had never considered it anything special, instead choosing to favor her lovely c-cups to win over gentlemen in town whenever she could make a rare trip out that way. It was an unintended feature more than it was an asset -- and it CERTAINLY wasn't the cause of her shortness of breath.

"Mags, you keep your eyes to yourself," Faith finally mumbled. "Thought you were calling me fat. Nah, I'm thinking this is just allergies, or me coming down with somethin.'"

Maggie was closer now, and still inching further like she had cornered a wild bear. "I promise you, ma'am, you'd be surprised. I had a cousin that was a track-and-field athlete, was set to get a scholarship. She was so damn pleased with herself I guess she let herself go, and her behind got huge, to big for her to be near as fast. She got tired easy, couldn't jump as high, had to take break after break... ended up losing the scholarship is all I'm saying." Without warning, Maggie reached down and lightly slapped Faith's butt to annunciate her point. Faith jumped forward with a sharp gasp. The two had known each other for some time and would occasionally give one another tags on the rear to signify s job well done, but this wasn't exactly a "job well done" type of moment. Nevertheless, her miffed mood ebbed just a bit as her friend got close.

"That's a real charming story, hun, but a little extra junk in my trunk wouldn't go and cause all this." No longer fueled by anger, she felt the cold air rush into her lungs and lay there, stagnant. Damn it all -- she just couldn't get enough air. "Mgh... you really got me, there. Watch those hands, you're still on my payroll, missie."

"Yes ma- Faith." True to her word, Maggie's hands went straight up in a sort of "you got me" pose. Despite herself Faith had to stifle a laugh at her friend's innocence, and suddenly her attitude just... evaporated. Maggie had always had that effect on her.

"Just what am I gonna do with you, girl... look, why don't we end early today," Faith mused, pointing back toward her barn. "Drop off the harvest and rest. If I'm still bent outta shape tomorrow, I'll see Doc Roger in town."

Maggie looked at her for a long time, then conceded. "Alright. If you're sure, ma'am."

"Damn right I am!" She affirmed. "Rear end so big she lost her scholarship..." she marvelled under her breath. "That girl's got a whole host of issues."

"May I drop my hands now, boss?"

"You may," Faith half-wheezed, half-laughed, giving a mock curtsy.

In no time, the two had packed away their haul and were driving back to the farmhouse. Now that she was sitting, Faith couldn't help but feel satisfied to find that she once again gained some control over her breathing. The women concluded their labor for the day, Maggie drove home, and Faith was left to pace about her home, still agitated at the wasted day. She considered heading into town to let off some steam, maybe head to Joey's and down a few shots, but each time she had made up her mind and prepared for the journey, she was once again out of breath before she could reach her truck. She felt cooped up in her humble little abode, paced about, made a simple meal, and finally elected to turn in early with the hope that her ailment would resolve itself by the morning. She had just finished dressing in a simple nightgown when she passed by her bedroom mirror. Something, perhaps the nagging voice of Maggie, halted her advance to her bed and made her observe her form.

The thin silk obscured much of her body, but running her hands up and down her hips revealed the curves and crevices beneath in intimate detail. She watched as her hands revealed a broad set of shoulders that cinched down to a narrow waist, then pushed back outward into hips that extended even farther outward. Her stomach had a tinge of pudge, but obscured rock solid abs beneath them, and her tits popped prominently out of the low-cut gown. Faith might have smirked at the sight of her cleavage if her mind was not focused elsewhere, and so her neutral expression twisted with a hint of concern. She awkwardly twisted to the side, her nightgown swishing in open space, the slope of her meaty buttocks coming into view. Almost on impulse she pulled the fabric tightly against her skin. Faith Alvarro was greeted with a generous view of her cheeks, each protruding outward a few inches, each without a hint of movement. Each connected seamlessly into her thunder thighs, tree trunks that tapered into muscular thighs and bare feet that recoiled against the cool wooden floor. Her thighs were another point of pride, but more for function over form -- it would take one of Maggie's whole arms just to wrap around one... maybe more. She picked a leg up and dropped it, passively observing the movement in her thighs and lack thereof in her ass as they responded to the stomp. Altogether, Faith's lower body was a damn sight larger than her upper -- she was a definite pear, through and through, but she was far from bottom-heavy to the point of wheezing when she tried to walk.

Faith scoffed. "That girl... ridiculous. I am not... BIGGER."

And with that, and an irreverent flip of her deep brown hair, Faith tucked in for the night and settled into a dreamless sleep.

----------------

"Come the hell... oh, dammit, you've GOTTA be pulling my tail."

Faith stood with her legs wrapped in skin-tight denim, constricting her thighs with an iron grip. They had been dragged agonizingly slowly up to her mid-thigh and had refused to make a lick more progress. It would have been no concern, it would have been natural, an older pair of overalls slipped in with the new, were this not the same pair she had worked a full shift in just yesterday. She waddled back and forth, back and forth, pacing and consumed with anxious energy. This wasn't happening, this COULDN'T be happening... not knowing what else to do, she gripped the overalls and yanked them upward again, desperately praying the extra fat that had materialized on her thighs overnight would disappear. She found no such luck. She was overcome with despair as she realized her thighs, blown up as they were, weren't even her biggest obstacle...

Faith looked backward back into her mirror and saw a bona fide cornbread-fed ass poked straight up into the air, waggling back and forth suspended over her tailbone. HER tailbone... but there was no possible way the foreign thing belonged to her. A far cry from the ass she had owned just yesterday, it protruded outward with abandon and wiggled with her every move, pale white fat so bulbous her little silk nightgown sat draped atop it, no longer sufficiently spacious enough to contain her engorged rear. The cleft between those alien cheeks was wide enough to swallow one of her winter gourds, and she caught glimpses of the swollen asshole tucked between as she continued to wage war with her overalls.

"Well I'll... I'll be goddamned," Faith whispered, staring at the thing. Her arms went slack as she took it all in. A legitimate bumper booty, fatty and round, sitiing up so perky and proud she reckoned she could fit an entire hand underneath the creases that had formed under each cheek in just a few hours. Even her thighs seemed bigger, overfed from large to oversized, not dwarfing her muscled calves but coming pretty damn close. Her calves, feet, and her entire upper body seemed to remain unchanged -- but her butt and thighs looked like they belonged to someone completely different.

"That ain't mine," she said to no one in particular. "There's no way that... all THAT... is mine."

The gelatinous thing seemed to disagree. It was a mind-bending sensation -- to go from a firm, solid and relatively flat ass to one that roiled with motion and jutted out several inches behind her wasn't just a change in physique, but a change in her experience of her body. She had been a little bottom-heavy before, sure, but now her entire center of gravity had changed. She wobbled on unsteady feet, trying to account for the extra pounds. God, it was HEAVY! Her tailbone drooped low and she needed to push her meaty legs into the floor to hoist the thing up. Was it possible that her ass actually HAD been to blame for her shortened breath? It shook in slow motion, the momentum carrying one weighty cheek to the other, then the other, then back again. Despite all logic, all reasoning, Faith admitted it could be possible... after all, her ass required considerably more hefty motion to move it around. This was a fact that made itself abundantly clear as she pulled up yet again, one final, triumphant yank that would surely bring her overalls to the base of her expanded ass...

Her body tensed. Her legs straightened. Her spine curled downward and her arms grew taught. Every impulse her body had systematically learned to exert the most power on a stubborn object was in play. This, however, was not the body Faith was used to. She pulled upward and her ass catapulted backward with the motion, tossing its weight behind her as if she was 4 or 5 beers deep at Jonesy's and bending down to give the gentlemen a little show. Faith's legs failed to account for the extra baggage, and so before she knew it her feet had slipped out beneath her, condemning her to a backward fall. She gasped as she heard the harmonization of a meaty smack as her bubble butt broke her fall and an agonizing tear as her overalls forfeited their battle against her thighs. Faith was vaguely conscious of her deep inhale, followed by a sharp, curt vocalization as she was overcome with the sensation of her newly-fattened ass slamming into her hardwood floor. She realized with a morbid fascination she could feel her puckered asshole impact the floor as well -- the feeling was a bit too much, and she clasped her hands over her exposed sex.

"H-ah! Sh... shit," she shivered. "These were new..."

"Were" being the key word. The overalls were split down the seam on both legs, making them useless for defending against any sort of cold. She had barely any time to begin mourning the denim masterpiece when she heard the bark of a car's horn outside her home -- Maggie, arriving tight on time for her shift.

Faith's eyes narrowed. Maggie the PROPHET. Had she KNOWN that this was going to happen? HOW?! Faith was still struggling to come to terms with the fact she lived in a reality where her ass had put on 15-20 pounds overnight. Maggie must have seen some clue, known more than she had let on! Or... had her ass really been growing before this, so subtly that she hadn't noticed?! Almost subconsciously Faith began to grope and pull at her soft booty meat, spread out on her floor as it was. The sensation was strangely soothing -- pillow-soft flesh squeezed between her fingers sending calming bouts of electrical current to her brain from both her hands and her tender assets. Then, as suddenly as she had started, Faith became aware of what she was doing and forced her hands to her sides.

"What on Earth... happened to me?" She growled, even as her hands yearned to return to the doughy flesh of her rear. "Mags... you had best better have a damn good explanation." She didn't say it with hope -- she said it with the icy conviction of an expectation. Faith Alvarro ALWAYS got what she wanted, after all.

She made her way to the staircase, but paused halfway to the door. Her butt was SHAKING with every step! How mortifying was that?!

----------------

Faith swung open the screen door to Maggie's smiling face with a bit more force then she intended. She stood with her hands clasped before her, baby blue eyes expectantly staring into the open door, as they always did on workday mornings. She was never late, never tired, and she was never grumpy. Whatever supernatural force drove her must have steeled her nerves too, because she made no sign of a recoil or flinch when the screen door slammed against Faith's faded yellow siding. She stood on the porch and eyed her boss up and down almost quizzically as Faith breathed heavily in her doorway.

"Mornin,' boss!" Maggie said, irritatingly cheery. "Uhm... I'm sorry, were we starting later today?"

"Maggie," Faith snarled. "Nope, 7 o' clock start. Everything's just PEACHY. Only... honey, I want you to tell me... do you notice anything different about me this morning?"

The blonde farmhand's smile evaporated. "Uh... you're wearing sweatpants?" She stared at the hastily-equipped grey sweats cautiously, as if they may be rigged with explosives.

"I am. I sure am. Any idea why?"

Silence. Maggie inched backward, looking as if she was preparing to bolt from the porch at a moment's notice.

"I am wearing sweatpants," Faith mumbled through bared teeth, "because they are all. That fit. On THIS." With a grunt she made a complete 180, exposing her fattened donk to her employee. Though the sweatpants had originally been loose-fitting comfort clothes, they now strained to compress and hold in Faith's widened derriere. The thing swelled outward from her thin waist, framed perfectly in the doorway with 6 or 7 inches of wiggle room on either side. The pants had jammed their way deep in between her wobbly cheeks, and with each minute movement they only delved deeper in. Faith cocked a hip and threw her arms into a shrugging position, giving Maggie a wordless "well?"

The blonde was speechless behind her. Faith stared daggers over her shoulder and saw that her mouth was agape, her eyes focused squarely on her prominent posterior. Her lips formed dozens of silent syllables as she struggled to find any words.

"Go on, Mags. Guess. I promise it ain't a hard question."

"Ma'am, I... Oh, it's worse than I thought."

"Oh, you think so, do you?!" The pear-shaped woman wheeled around and advanced on her. "Just what is IT, Mags? I think I just may have a right to an explanation!"

"Ma'am, I -- Faith -- look, hunny, you may want to take a seat. This... could take some doing."

Faith's glare was ice cold. Her paralyzing gaze remained affixed on Maggie for several seconds before she huffed, stomped to one of her deck chairs, and crashed downward with an audible poff. Faith could swear she heard the bones in her legs sigh with relief as she sat. She tried to ignore that -- that AND the confusing sensation of her ass completely filling the chair. Her fatty hips pressed into the plastic armrests, and her butt bulged out of the gaps in the backrest like they had her overalls. Her incredibly thick legs were forced together, and she quickly discovered she was unable to move them without significant effort. She ignored this too, and continued her one-sided staredown.

"Uh... Faith, are you sure you don't want another chair? That one looks a mite-"

"I'm fine. And that's ma'am to you, young lady."

"Ma'am." Maggie sat gingerly on the chair opposing her. Faith felt a twinge of jealously as she saw her lithe form occupy the space with plenty of room to spare.

"Oh, stars, where to begin... Well, ma'am, in my family, we have a little something of what you might call an... extra difficulty. It started with my great-great grandmomma, then her daughter, then her daughters, then my ma, then me and my sister. We got a tendency to... I guess you could call it growin.' When the Muniz women come of age, they get real hefty, real quickly, and they do it real low. Sometimes... like with my cousin that ran track, you see... it happens without much warnin' beforehand, and we can get so... bottom-heavy that we start to get slowed down some."