Well, we ended up with a slight lead for 2a, but my favorite suggestion came from flame-of-all-chaos:
Option one with A has the main point with B as a worry Butler will have as he is forcibly gourged
Essentially combining option 1a and 1b, pushing it into the lead, and which sounds hot to me.
***
Butler, in control of Bob’s fatter, and now much cleaner body, headed towards the basement, the house happily allowing him passage, and Bob slowly began to recognize the areas of the house he’d explored earlier in the night, and Butler could sense his host growing, agitated. Still, it was of no concern to him–he was firmly in control, though that song he’d noticed after putting Bob in his clothes was still there, and still nagging at him, though he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t able to simply get rid of it.
He passed through one of the houses several dining rooms, when Bob’s nose caught the scent of food–the same pot he’d gorged himself on at the beginning of the night, and Butler suddenly felt control ripped away from him, as Bob’s fat frame, of it’s own volition, surged into the kitchen, nearly slathering with hunger, and it was all Butler could do to keep the reins on and hold Bob back from the massive pot on the stove.
“Ah, I knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself,” the chef said, “Couldn’t resist a second helping, could you?”
“Chef, what in…what in the hell did you feed him?” Butler asked, feeling Bob’s stomach heave with hunger, “I can’t…the master needs us for a mission, we can’t stop to eat!”
“Butler? Is that you?” the chef asked, “Well you old bat, how in the hell are you? Well, I don’t think you can complete a mission on an empty stomach, right? Besides, you were always such an uptight asshole, I think a good feeding might help loosen you up.”
Butler felt his control beginning to slip again, and Bob’s mind had lost all rational focus. It was hungry–that’s all that mattered, and as Bob’s mind lost focus, descending into an animalistic fervor, the song that had been plaguing Butler started growing louder, slowly working against his bonds of control, until after a few moments, Butler suddenly found himself without control. Bob’s body stumbling forward, taking the spoon the chef handed him as he passed, returning to the pot he’d eaten from earlier, and downing more of the gruel, moaning in gluttonous pleasure.
In Bob’s head, Butler worked to try and regain control, but it was like the song had isolated him inside Bob’s head, and he quickly realized that it had done more than isolated him, it was attacking him–changing him. It was then that he realized what kind of mistake he’d made–the song, it wasn’t just any song–it was satyr song. In his lust for Bob’s bigger body, he hadn’t bothered to think about what had made him bigger, and now that he’d fallen into the trap, he didn’t know what he was going to do. The song was wearing away at him, shifting his personality bit by bit, and as it did, the clothes on Bob’s frame started changing too.
Butler’s suit, already covered with much down the front, was slowly simplifying, as Butler himself was worn down and ripped apart by the satyr’s magic. The suit’s coat shifted from expensive Egyptian cotton and became flannel, the arms shrinking up into a cut off vest. The shirt’s buttons disappeared as the fabric grew more worn and aged, the sleeves also shrinking up until it became a massive wifebeater stretched across Bob’s massive belly. The pants shrank up into a pair of cut off jean shorts pulled tight against Bob’s inflating thighs, his belt barely able to hold them up, and they still left a good amount of ass crack exposed in the back, and last, the perfectly shined dress shoes morphed into muddy combat boots.
Butler, now, was no more–or rather, he was still there, but his new name was Bubba. His master was no longer the demon upstairs, but the song stuck in Bob’s mind. He would serve the song, and serve Bob as his filthy clothing, helping push him deeper into the life David had composed for him in the theater. Bob, his hunger a bit slated, as he cleaned the bottom of the pot, came to realize that it was futile to try and resist what David had done to him. His gut growled in hunger, swelling a bit larger, his body quickly reverting to its grubby, unwashed form, and he turned to the chef, and asked, “Ya got any more? This here gut a mine is just gettin’ started,” he said, and let off a massive belch.
The chef grinned, “Well, I do love a man who can eat. Let me see what else I can whip up for you.”
***
Well, with Butler and Bob distracted for the moment, I suppose the question is what will happen when David finally makes his way to the basement, or, we can always check in with Ken, and see what’s happening with him out in the garden.
1) David finally makes it to the basement, when he confronts Dan and the boiler. Either a) David’s song wins out in the end, enchanting Dan away from feeding the boiler, and returning the demon to stone, or b) the boiler devours David’s spirit, burning the power and giving the demon access to the rest of the house.
2) Ken finally makes it to the stable, and finds himself on his knees before the satyr, who decides our cowboy needs a few more changes. Maybe a) the satyr decides he needs to be a literal cowboy, and transforms him into a minotaur who will live in the garden’s labyrinth, or b) the satyr becomes a fat pig slave, happily spending his life groveling in mud and filth, or c) a possibility mentioned earlier, he transforms him into a gargoyle, an ally in the fight against the demon master of the house.
Send me your preferences in the reply box, or as an ask. What do you think?
Bracken's Corner 