A while back I was reminded of how the D&D spell "Goodberry" has incredibly good weight-gain potential (essentially a single berry can sustain you for a day, so of course if you eat a ton...). Finally got around to writing something related to it, and of course Raf is the lucky star of this accidental weight-gain adventure.

Raf accidentally snacks on a slice of goodberry pie, and soon finds himself packing on the pounds...

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Raf and the Goodberry Pie
By: Indi

As Raf set the keg on the table, he frowned. Of course that was the incredibly hefty horse’s default mood most of the time.

Across from him, a plump blue zebra smiled. “It’s perfect, Raf! Thank you so much for supplying me with healing water on short notice. I wouldn’t have been able to brew the next batches of my latest experimental healing potion otherwise.” He lifted the keg with some effort, cradling it like treasure as he lugged it into the back room. “And feel free to grab a snack on your way out!”

“Snacking’s the last thing I want to do, Indi,” Raf grumbled under his breath. He hadn’t always been so fat, but fate had seemingly conspired against the horse and his weight had doubled over the years. Too many rewards in the form of feasts and curses that made him glut. He’d begrudgingly accepted his size, but tried his best to not get even fatter. More often than not he failed.

But as Raf started to leave the alchemy shop, he spotted the snack Indi had offered. It was a thick slice of pie, made from some kind of berry. He licked his lips at the sight and frowned even harder. “Ugh, I guess a little bite won’t hurt. And it’s not like fruit is fattening.”

The bite turned into two once Raf discovered how delicious it tasted, then three and four. Suddenly there was nothing but crumbs left on the plate. Raf sighed, not surprised he’d let things get out of hand. He left before Indi could come out and offer him another slice, or a whole pie, or something even more fattening.


Raf’s journey home was uneventful, which improved his mood—though he didn’t show it. Upon entering he was cheerfully greeted by a pair of kobold automatons who’d been busy tidying things up. He nodded at them in acknowledgment and waddled to his workshop. More automatons greeted him along the way, all kobolds. They were all experienced at dodging his swaying belly, which was more than capable of squashing the small machines.

While he was technically a cleric--with a talent for water magic—Raf’s true passion was artifice. He’d personally created every one of the kobold automatons in his home, along with countless others elsewhere.

They were far easier to deal with than real people. They left him alone when asked, didn’t constantly bump into his belly (at least after a while), and didn’t seem obsessed with poking his doughy middle (at least not as often). And they’d only accidentally stuffed him with the entire contents of the pantry twice. Compared to his friends they were saints.

Raf sat down at his workbench and continued assembling a stocky kobold designed to contain and dispense wine. Before long he was fully engrossed in his work, oblivious to anything else.

Which meant he didn’t notice how his belly had begun to swell...and his rump and arms and legs and everything else.

The horse was gaining weight at a slow and steady pace, just fast enough to be visible to anyone staring at him. Past experiences of getting stuffed and fattened against his will had prompted Raf to enchant his clothing to stretch just in case so he wouldn’t burst out of them and end up even more embarrassed than usual. But it also prevented Raf from realizing he was inexplicably gaining weight, as his green robes didn’t grow any tighter than usual.

Amidst distracted grumps and sighs the butterball of a horse grew softer and softer, the pounds adding on. It wasn’t until his belly pressed against the edge of the workbench that Raf began to think something odd was happening.

At first he just tried scooching back, assuming he’d leaned forwards on accident. When he did, though, he felt his body jiggle a little more than usual. Raf considered just ignoring it, hoping it was all in his imagination and would go away if he went back to work. But when he felt his belly push back against the workbench he gave in and accepted reality.

Already exasperated, Raf slid off his stool to examine himself. Sure enough, he’d gotten fatter, probably fifty pounds fatter at that. And of course he was still gaining weight.

Raf grabbed the sides of his gut and shook it in frustration. “Why can’t you grow smaller for once!” He blushed at how much it wobbled, trying not to think too positively about how soft it felt.

Complaining wouldn’t make the gains halt, though. He methodically went through his mental checklist of potential causes, something he hated having such an in-depth knowledge of.

It wasn’t a hex or a spell—there’d be a lingering aura if so. His clothing and accessories didn’t appear cursed—a shame since that was usually the easiest cause to deal with. An allergic reaction? Raf mumbled a purification spell, which provided a soothing glow but didn’t stop his weight-gain. It obviously wasn’t hypnotism or remote teleportation since he was just getting fatter, not filling up with anything. He didn’t feel possessed by any spirit or demon either.

Raf could feel his arms very slowly becoming uncrossed as he fattened. If only there weren’t so many obnoxious ways to get fat!

Merging with himself from an alternate dimension? No, that’d been instant. An influx of heavy mana? No, he’d have felt energized. An illusion? No, the gains felt far too real.

He mentally retraced his steps, going through his entire routine that day. Nothing at home could’ve been the source, and he’d only ventured out for a short while, without issue. And the last thing he’d eaten or drunk had been...had been the pie at Indi’s shop.

“I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that stupid tasty pie!” Raf fumed and jiggled. “They always betray me somehow.”

With the knowledge his fattening was most likely being caused by alchemy in some way, Raf could finally take action. He waddled out of his workshop, heading towards his stockpile of curatives. Having fallen victim to weight-gain potions, powders, and rations before, Raf had made sure to keep plenty of medicines meant to negate their effects.

They wouldn’t undo the nearly hundred pounds of doughy pudge he’d gained, but at least he wouldn’t gain another hundred more. Or thousand if it was a blob formula.

Raf didn’t move much slower than usual as he made his way down halls, but he was having trouble adjusting to the extra space his gut took up. He bumped into tables and pedestals, his belly bouncing each time. Even the kobolds were struggling, not expecting their master’s middle to jut out further. Any who ended up knocked over apologized for their clumsiness, which just made Raf blush.

His arms and face were extra doughy by the time he’d reached his medicines, and for a moment he feared his hooves had become too pudgy to open the dainty cabinet door. With haste he grabbed the bottle he needed and chugged it all down, ready for the ordeal to be over.

But nothing happened.

No tingle or chill. No sense of the potion going to work. And—worst of all—no halt to his weight-gain. A hint of concern flashed across his face before it returned to a standard scowl. “That should’ve worked! If alchemy’s not to blame, than how the hell am I getting fatter!!”


Back at the shop, Indi strolled out of the backroom. He was still brewing, but needed to raid his open stock for ingredients. While reaching for one he glanced up and froze. His last slice of goodberry pie was gone.

Goodberries were a fruit born of magic, and just one was capable of sustaining a person for an entire day. On a whim Indi had messed around with using them as ingredients in mundane recipes. In general, the result was just a meal that was absurdly fattening, with a single bite containing up to a week’s worth of calories at times. But a slice of pie was even worse, as it was mostly just a pile of compacted goodberries.

Indi’s eyes widened, and he covered his mouth to hold back a laugh. “Oh, oh no. Raf must’ve thought the pie was the snack I was talking about.” He looked over at an untouched plate of assorted crackers and cheese nearby. “I wonder if he’s outgrown his house by now.

The zebra hurried off, eager to see the results of the unintended taste test.


In the meanwhile, Raf had guzzled three more varieties of alchemy-negating potions out of desperation. None of them had worked, of course. His gains were just his body catching up to the calorie bomb of a pie he’d finished digesting. They couldn’t be stopped anymore.

Out of ideas, all Raf could do was wait for the pounds to stop piling on.

The horse’s belly was a mound, soft to the touch yet incredibly heavy. He was forced to cradle it in his hooves just to keep from toppling over. Raf dared not move, afraid he wouldn’t be able to manage since he was used to being comparatively slimmer. But he couldn’t resist gravity forever.

Eventually the weight became too great, and with a grumble Raf lowered himself to the floor. He sat with his belly between his legs, barely able to wobble. It was dominating his form, making up the bulk of his very being. He watched it slowly expand outwards, as if eager to conquer the room. His neck had grown so fat and his chins so numerous that his round head now sat atop a cushion of fat. Just turning it was a pain.

Had his gut not kept him grounded his massive rump certainly would’ve. Though his whole body was contributing to his growing immobility. Raf had become a collection of fat mounds, and was still growing.

An automaton walked in, stopping directly in front of its creator. “May I be of help, Sir?”

“Sure, if you can make me lose all this dumb weight,” Raf grumbled.

“I can certainly try, Sir!” the kobold said. “Exercise is an important part of slimming down. Perhaps some stretches and reps are in order. Just mimic me, Sir.”

Raf sighed as he watched the automaton perform a few basic stretches. At times they were too cheerful for their own good. Busy attempting to help its master, the kobold didn’t realize the slow wall of horse blubber swelling its way. It let out a startled noise as it was nudged by Raf’s growing gut, but when it tried to step back it immediately bumped against a wall. It considered its options far too slowly, and by the time it decided to slide out of the way it was pinned between belly and wall.

“Sir, I appear to be stuck. Should we continue the exercises?”

“I...no.” Raf felt bad that the unlucky automaton was about to be slowly crushed, but he had plenty of his own problems to deal with. Like being an immobile blob.

There was a faint crunch as the automaton was pressed harder, plates warping and gears cracking. “Reporting a need for repairs, Sir. Damage to: chest plate. Left leg. Left knee joint. Right leg. Right knee joint. Left arm. Left elbow joint. Tail.”

Another, louder crunch, which made Raf wince and the kobold twitch. “Damage update: waist. Left claw.” Crunch. “V-V-V-Vocal funct-functions.”

To Raf’s relief his belly swelled over the damaged kobold’s face, muffling its attempts to keep him updated on its continued destruction. A minute later the crunching and cracking ended, the automaton having been crushed flat by Raf’s immense middle.

“And now I’m gonna have to build a replacement kobold, too.” Raf let out a deep, frustrated breath. “I swear, if the wall goes next I’m gonna make Indi repair it by himself!”

“Eh, I’m not that handy.”

Raf managed to turn his head just enough to see the zebra standing in the doorway. “What’d you do to me!!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Indi insisted. His eyes were locked onto Raf’s blubbery, mountainous belly, and he was clearly blushing. “Well, I made the pie, but I didn’t tell you to eat it.”

“You told me to have a snack!”

“I meant the cheese platter, not the goodberry pie!”

Raf’s eyes went wide. “Who makes a pie out of goodberries! No wonder nothing I tried worked.”

“It was an experiment. One that clearly works well as an immobility trap from the looks of you.” Indi ventured closer, knowing the grumpy gargantuan horse wasn’t a threat anymore. He pressed his hooves against Raf’s side, giggling as he felt the blubber beneath his robes. “I’m beginning to think you were just meant to be a blob, honestly.”

“Only because my so-called friends seem hell-bent on blimping me up,” Raf growled. The realization his gains had stopped didn’t improve his mood much. “It’s your fault I’m this...this fat, so you’ve gotta undo it!”

“Well it’s a lot easier to gain weight than lose it. There’s probably at least one mage in the city who specializes in weight-loss magic, but it’ll take time to find them. And of course slimming you down will probably require a full ritual, which is expensive and not really fast. Might even take multiple rituals to get you back down to seven hundred pounds.” Indi was still prodding and teasing his helpless friend’s pudge.

“I was only five hundred pounds to begin with! Ugh, I’d better not be even a pound fatter when this is through. I don’t want to have to widen my doorways again.” Raf frowned a bit harder every time Indi poked him, but didn’t bother snapping at him. It just wasn’t worth the effort.

Feeling brazen, Indi embraced as much of Raf’s gut in a hug as he could. “Oh you’ll be fine. In a few weeks or months you’ll be waddling around like usual, belly-bumping people and furniture over left and right!”

“M-Months?” Raf gulped. He already knew he was going to be exceptionally grumpy for the foreseeable future. “I’m never eating pie again,” he lied under his breath.