Antoine at the Auction

[6 word "You Call It" Request: Antoine Vaillant Blown Up and Humiliated]

[Weight gain, shrinking, public humiliation]

From backstage, Antoine looked out at the crowd and cocked his head to the side. The portly bespectacled MC who had introduced himself as Mr. Danvers tapped Antoine on his bare tanned deltoid.

“Something the matter, Mr. Vaillant?” he said, adjusting his glasses and his belt.

“No, not really,” Antoine said as he looked at the hundreds of people seated silently beyond the stage. They ranged from chubby to obese, some grotesquely so; too huge to hit in the seats, they had parked their Rascals in the aisles. “It’s just… normally when I’m hired to guest pose it’s at a fitness competition.” He thumbed out at the crowd. “I guess I didn’t realize what kind of venue it was. I’m sure your convention is… great… but I’m not… y’know…” He gestured at his massive physique: hairless, deeply bronzed and shiny with oil, clad only in a set of skimpy black posing trunks that hugged his bulge and wrapped tightly around his big glutes. “...a stripper.”

Mr. Danvers’ posture straightened up immediately. His mouth became a straight line. “I thought we were clear in the contract,” he said. He produced a clipboard and flipped through a few sheets of paper. “You were hired to provide entertainment for our auction. Says here, plain as day, just above your signature.”

Antoine threw his hands up defensively. “No, no, it’s cool, I just… Wasn’t expecting it is all.”

“Well, it’s time,” Mr. Danvers said as he held his watch close to his face. “I’ll go out and introduce you. I trust you don’t need any coaching on what kind of show to provide?”

Antoine smirked. “Oh, I think I can handle it. I know how to get a crowd riled up.” He made his pecs bounce as he said it, winking.

Mr. Danvers sneered down his nose at Antoine. “Yes. ‘Riled up.’ Well then.” He headed out to the podium on stage, leaving Antoine to wonder how much longer this gig was going to last. It couldn’t be more than an hour, he thought.

Danvers introduced Antoine to silence. Not one person in the crowd even smiled as the 325 pound bodybuilder lumbered out on stage, hitting a front double bi, then dropping into a lunge as he did the archer. The lack of a response was unsettling. He heard someone cough in the back row but nothing else.

“Thank you Mr. Vaillant,” Mr. Danvers said into his microphone, rolling his eyes at Antoine’s posing. “You can stand to my left for right now.”

Antoine, in the middle of jamming his huge biceps underneath his flexed pec shelf for a side chest pose, glanced out at the crowd, then leaned toward Danvers. “You sure you just want me to stand there?” he whispered. “You don’t want me to flex or anything?”

“To my left,” Danvers ordered, and Antoine lumbered over to the spot, feeling awkward. Feeling exposed in front of this room of fully-clothed people, he lowered his hands in front of his posers-clad bulge.

“Since we’ve all gotten a look at Mr. Vaillant’s body, we’ll be starting the bidding soon. Since the drink I gave him backstage was consumed four minutes and twenty-five seconds ago, we’ll be starting in just over thirty seconds.”

Antoine flashed back to the unmarked glass bottle Danvers had handed him. It was plain water; he’d just guzzled it down without a thought. Why did it matter when he drank it?

“Could you give us another pose, Mr. Vaillant?” Danvers said. “Something impressive.”

Antoine raised an eyebrow, then confidently stomped forward. He squeezed his chest as he brought his flexed arms around it in an impressive most muscular, topped off by a cocky grin. He held the pose for a few seconds. The crowd seemed suddenly at attention, some leaning forward in their seats to focus on the bodybuilder before them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Danvers staring at his watch.

“4… 3… 2… and…” Danvers counted.

Before Danvers hit 1, Antoine let out a massive belch--so deep and guttural it seemed to shake the floor. His eyes went wide as he slapped a hand over his mouth; how could he have had to burp so badly and not know it until it was coming out? Suddenly he felt another pressure in his gut, this one lower down. Before he could do anything about it, a massive fart escaped him. He heard it echo several times. Antoine blushed so hard it was nearly visible through his spray tan.

“How colorful,” Danvers said in a droll tone. “It seems the reagent has taken effect.”

Antoine’s composure was shattered. He felt weak; all that escaping gas had taken a little bit out of him. “What the fuck did you put in my water?”

“Let the bidding begin!” Danvers said, as several folks in the crowd started raising paddles.

Antoine watched as several members of the crowd raised green paddles. Danvers gestured at each, seeming to tally something on a tablet as he did so.

“What are they bidding on?” Antoine said. “A date with me? Private show? Hands-on action? Because we really should have talked about that before…” Antoine heard his stomach gurgle loudly, like a water cooler. He gripped his cobbled abs as he felt a bubbling in his gut.

“In moments it will be evident,” Danvers said as he continued to tally bids, “but if you can’t wait to see for yourself… for every $100 we raise, we’re adding 1 pound to your body.”

Antoine chuckled. “You serious? How are you going to do that? Force feed me donuts? Because you’d be shocked by how much I can actually eat.”

Another burp blasted from him. As he covered his mouth with both hands, his abdomen suddenly burst forward, from rippling 8-pack to a flabby paunch in moments. Antoine blinked, not believing what he was seeing. He reached down and jiggle his soft new gut. He sank his fingers into it and grabbed at a roll, giving it a wobble.

“How the… fuck…”

Antoine’s gut wasn’t the only thing to change. He looked down at his arms, watching the chiseled cuts starting to slowly smooth out. He wasn’t losing size at all, just definition. He held up his hands, startled by their sudden thickness. His posing trunks suddenly felt oppressively tight. His vein-covered legs started to lose their deep lines and visible sinews. Within seconds they looked like wide tan shapeless masses.

Antoine still looked like a bodybuilder, but now like one who had been washing down his offseason binges with dbols and growth hormone. He was stunned to turn around and see a screen behind him, on to which was projected his slowly inflating body. He looked like a dark brown powerlifter now, not a hint of definition on his thick bulky body. Every bit of his muscle was swallowed up by a layer of soft flab that was growing thicker with every moment.

“What, did you drug me or something? This can’t be real! How the fuck is this happening?” Antoine said. As he turned his head, he could feel his double chins bouncing. His cheeks wobbled. On the screen he saw that his chiseled athletic face was almost entirely round now.

“Five more seconds left in phase 1,” Danvers said, tallying up the last few votes.

Antoine groaned as he felt his posers cutting painfully into him, the pressure growing every minute, until… POP! The posers burst open and shot across the room. Antoine yelped as he reached around a growing gut to cover his junk from the eyes of the crowd. They were still silent, but many of them had grins and looks of wide-eyed amazement.

Antoine backed away from the crowd, afraid to turn around and see his massive bloated body--now totally nude--on the screen. He was shocked to find two chubby men on either side of him, affixing a loincloth to allow him some modesty. He shoved them away after they pinned it shut. When he turned around, he could only vaguely recognize the face of the man on the screen. He looked like a sumo wrestler!

With every step, he felt his gut, manboobs and big paunchy ass jiggle and bounce. He hadn’t lost any muscle--it was still vaguely visible beneath all that blubber, but it was nearly outweighed by the fat that was pouring onto his frame.

“And that’s the end of phase 1! You can all see Mr. Vaillant has burst out of his tiny little man-panties and is now forced to wear a cloth diaper like the big baby he is.”

The crowd burst into laughter. Antoine swiped at the air, flipping them off. “Fuck you all! Fuck you for laughing at me like this!”

“Mr. Vaillant,” Danvers said, adjusting his glasses again, “if you could continue your posing, please? We paid you to give us a show, not to stand there and bleat.”

Antoine turned to face Danvers and was thrown off when his massive gut took a moment longer to catch up with him. He grabbed the mass and lifted it up, letting it fall down. “I’m not fucking posing for you, you fuck!”

“Mr. Vaillant,” Danvers said in a stern voice. “Might I remind you that forfeiting your contract means we leave you in the state you’re currently in. If you ever hope to have a different form other than ‘corpulent man-child’ I’d suggest you comply.”

Antoine resigned himself to Danvers’ wishes. There was no way he was getting stuck like this--he couldn’t even see his muscles anymore! He just looked like a big fat slob now. He had to weigh up past 500 pounds. He didn’t know how this was possible, but he decided to play along, at least for the time being.

He stepped forward and did a front double bi while his big gut wobbled and bounced in front of him. Flexed, unflexed, his arms looked the same! Then he dropped down to do a side chest which ended up just being him presenting a floppy man-boob to the crowd. He stomped down a beefy leg and put his fat arms behind his head, doing the most absurd abdominal/thigh pose anyone had ever presented as such.

The crowd wouldn’t stop laughing. It was almost too much for Antoine to bear. Earlier he was struck by how overweight the audience was. Now he was the fattest one in the room! Just moving around was causing him to sweat and feel out of breath. It was so hard moving all that weight around!

“We are now beginning phase 2,” Danvers said. “Cast your e-ballots now.”

“What’s phase 2?” Antoine asked desperately. Would they make him even bigger?

“Phase 2,” Danvers explained, “consists of each bidder contributing a scenario you’re going to have to live out. The three highest bidders’ scenarios will be presented, and then the crowd can vote for the winning scenario by bidding more money on it.”

“How much fucking money are you fuckers making here?” Big Antoine said, looking at the crowd of apparently very wealthy people. “What kind of scenarios?”

“Be patient, my plump friend,” Danvers said. “You’ll find out in a moment.”

Antoine bristled at being designated “plump” by this fat guy--but at that moment, he couldn’t argue.

“All right, we have a winning scenario. Scenario 2!” The crowd applauded.

“What’s scenario 2?” Antoine asked, looking around for answers, desperate to know what could possibly be next.

“In a moment, we’ll release a small pig--appopriately enough, considering your… eh… current body type--” he gestured at Antoine’s soft, humongous body, “--which will be wearing, around its neck, the antidote to your condition. You have 2 minutes to catch the pig and ingest the antidote, which will turn you instantly into the shape you were in when you arrived today.”

“What happens if I don’t?” Antoine said, but a buzzer sounded and he saw a small squealing pig run out onto stage. He ran for the pig, distressed that he now moved in a slow clumsy waddle. His huge gut, manboobs and big jiggly ass bounced with every step, all of which was caught on camera.

The pig wasn’t that fast, but neither was Antoine. He just couldn’t move quickly with 500 pounds to lug around. The crowd hooted and cheered as Antoine wobbled and groaned, struggling to keep up with the little animal. He had to stop to catch his breath several times.

“Be careful,” Danvers warned. “We don’t want you having a cardiac event on us right now.”

Antoine wanted to tell him to fuck off, but Danvers was right. Despite the shape he was in when he entered, he was carrying about two hundred extra pounds, all heart-choking flab. He could have a heart attack moving around at a slow waddle. He doubted any of these assholes would call paramedics for him, either.

Twice he came close to catching the pig. Once the pig slipped and fell. Antoine reached for it with both hands before it got back on his feet, but his massive gut got in the way. He had to turn and lean, but by that time it had hustled away. At one point he got it cornered against the wall but it squealed and ran through his legs. He spun around so fast that his center of gravity was thrown, causing him to topple to the ground. He lay there, struggling to rise, as he heard a buzzer go off.

“That’s it, Mr. Vaillant. Time is up, and it appears the squealing farm animal… couldn’t catch the pig!” The crowd erupted at the joke and Antoine tried to ignore it all. He was barely on his feet again when he felt every part of him starting to swell out again.

“Wait, what’s happening?” he cried as he grabbed his huge gut, trying to hold it in. It burst easily through his hands, his but swelling up beneath him, his arms pushed out from his sides. He watched his hands as they blimped out to big puffy mitts. He doubted he could use a phone or type a keyboard with those flabby digits. On the screen, he saw his face bloat up too. It was perfectly round now, just like his whole body was. There was no hope of him getting to his feet. Now. He was as wide as a couch now, and almost perfectly round.

He wiggled his toes and flapped his hands as much as he could. They were the only movements he could muster. He felt a cool breeze down below and realized the loin cloth had burst open from the expansion his girth. On the screen his saw his own dick, looking especially tiny on his enormous spherical body, moreso because it was swallowed up by the flab surrounding it. The crowd applauded Antoine’s newfound immobility as Danvers announced the beginning of Phase 3.

“Bids have been tallied and your top 3 scenarios have been logged. Vote now!”

“I can’t move!” Antoine yelled to Danvers across the stage. “I can’t even get up!” Truthfully he couldn’t even turn his head due to the roll of fat his neck had blown into.

“Well,” Danvers said as he checked his tablet, “lucky for you the crowd has voted for Phase 3’s third scenario! It seems a size reduction is in order.”

Antoine felt a tingling all over and hoped it meant all this extra weight would start to dissolve. He looked down at his massive body (so huge he couldn’t see all of it at once) and waited for it to change back into the rock-hard physique he had spent his whole life building.

Nothing changed. The silent anticipation shattered when Antoine let loose another loud fart--for nearly 5 seconds--but his body remained the same. However, the room around him seemed to shift.

Antoine looked in horror as the crowd, the screen behind him, even Danvers and the podium all seemed to get bigger. He was getting smaller! In seconds he was half the size he had grown into, which would have been a relief except the reduction was entirely proportional. Danvers was approaching him now and Antoine couldn’t believe how tall he was. The older gentleman looked twelve feet tall--no, twenty feet! Still, Antoine shrank, and despite the reduction in his size he was still rooted to the spot, unable to move the pile of flesh he was surrounded by.

“Stop! Stop it!” Antoine cried, disturbed that, with every second, his voice got higher and chirpier. He sounded like a chipmunk, his voice a barely audible squeak to any full-sized human standing near him. He swung his balled up fists angrily and kicked his chubby feet as Danvers reached down to pick him up. “Don’t touch me!” Antoine demanded (although it sounded like a pathetic plea). Danvers ignored his protests and lifted Antoine the way he would have lifted a basketball, which was exactly the size and shape Antoine was now.

“Incredible! Look how portable he has become. Portable and portly; this state suits you well, Mr. Vaillant!” The crowd burst into hysterics as Antoine (who had shrunken out of the little cover the busted out loincloth had given him) wiggled and wobbled as much as he could in Danvers’ tight grip.

“And now, in Phase 4, we randomly select one scenario to enact on this… ugly little blob of a man…” Danvers tucked Antoine nonchalantly under one arm as he checked his tablet. “How interesting! It appears Antoine will only be able to speak in remedial High School French! How ironic, considering this little lump is from Quebec!”

Antoine just blinked. Nothing had seemed to change. That was too ridiculous--despite all that happened, they couldn’t really do that to him, could they?

“Speak for the crowd you horrifying little globule!” Danvers said, giving Antoine a vigorous shake.

“Bonjour!” he cried. “Je suis Etienne.” Antoine’s mouth fell open. He hadn’t meant to say that at all. The words he wanted were fully formed in his brain, but his mouth did its own thing now. “Je mange quand j’ai faim!” he shouted--fully intending to scream a demand at Danvers to return him to his original form, but entirely unable to do so.

“It seems this bloated little imp is finally up for auction. Phase 4 begins now. If you’d like a basic french-speaking twelve-inches-in-diameter has-been-bodybuilder-blimp, now is your time to bid.”

Antoine looked out at the crowd in horror. They were auctioning him? No way! He wasn’t going anywhere with these fat fucks! They were going to turn him back right now--or else! “Il fait froid! Il neige!” he cried.

“We have our winning bidder! You’ll all be receiving gift bags on your way out the door, including high-res photos of our guest of honor’s fall from grace, plus a blu-ray DVD of the entire show. Let’s this soft little scoop of flesh gift wrapped and sent on its way, shall we?”

The two men who had affixed the loin cloth returned to the stage--this time seemingly the size of buildings, terrifying Antoine when they grabbed him with their huge hands--affiixing something cloth they tied around him. He was shocked to realize it was a diaper, but things got instantly worse when one of them produced a bird cage, opened the top and lowered Antoine in. He was so bloated and round he filled up nearly all of the cage. He had no room to move around (not like he could if he wanted to. He winced as the top of the cage was closed and locked, grabbing at the bars of the cage and rattling them as best he could.

The most humiliating part of it all was that Danvers was able to lift his cage easily with one hand. Antoine looked out at the crowd, who were now filtering from their seats and picking up their visual documentation of his humiliation. “J’aime manger les bonbons!” he cried. He didn’t resist the urge to sob. Huge tears poured from his eyes as his blubbery face jiggled with each moan.

The man who lifted the cage was completely bald and shorter than everyone else--Antoine estimated, in relation to the other GIANT-seeming people around, that his new owner had to be just under five feet tall. He was just as overweight as everyone else in the room, his gut threatening to bust the lower buttons of his shirt at any moment.

“Oh my goodness!” the man said as he poked a huge finger through the cage. Antoine tried to swat it away. “Aren’t you the most perfect little oddity! You will make an incredible conversation piece at parties.”

The man produced a small hunk of cheese and held it through the cage bars toward Antoine’s mouth. As revolted as the little former bodybuilder was at the whole situation, his stomach growled loudly. He was starving. He tried to reach for the cheese but he couldn’t get his blubbery arms around his flabby torso. He leaned forward and just accepted the cheese into his mouth.

“That’s a good little man. I’ll call you Mr. Wimbledon. Do you like that name Mr. Wimbledon?” the man cooed.

“Je dois dormier parce que je suis fatigue,” Antoine said sadly.

His new owner produced a wadded up piece of something silky. “I had someone retrieve your little undies from when they burst off your expanding body. I’m going to make them into a nice little muu-muu for you to wear!” He held Antoine’s busted posers to his face and breathed deeply. “Good god, you used to smell like quite a man before you became this!” The man shook the cage and all of Antoine’s body jiggled.

“Je ne sais pas…” he said, trying to avoid the urge to cry again.