John disengaged himself from his girlfriends blubbery embrace and picked up the damaged Medallion. He eyed Silvia curiously, not exactly certain what to think of all this. Far from seeming uncomfortable or unused to her new size, she maneuvered her cumbersome bulk with the ponderous, elephantine grace of someone who'd been doing so for years.
"Silvia? Why are you talking like that?"
Silvia smiled at John and batted her eyes coquettishly. In those eyes was a multi-layered hunger that was utterly alien to the woman he'd known for the last few several months. "Aw, baby..." her arms came up again, and at this distance the hunger in her eyes was obviously lust "...what's yer deal, huh? We screwed aroun' with th' thingie...now let's screw aroun' with YOUR thingie."
John had to admit, it was kind of nice to have Silvia be the sexual aggressor for a change...but he'd rather she'd have been more interested before she'd became such a...well, a fat cow.
But...WHY was she acting like this? From what she'd told him about the Medallion, it was a magical item, that seemed to have very specific rules...
("...you use an article of clothing on it, and it turns you to the last person that worn it or - if it has never been worn - to your counterpart that would fit it.") and ("...you have to remain in that form for the next 12 hours,...")
...but if so, how had damaging the Medallion changed it's magical effects.
It was a task for a wizard to figure out. Such a person would have seen that the portions of the Medallion that had been destroyed had been the ones that had limited the effects and focused the magics in certain ways. Without them, the subjects personal opinions and beliefs became just as important as the clothes that were used.
In other words, if a rampant sexist used the Medallion on a woman's well-tailored business suit, then after becoming the woman who would fit the clothes, he might ALSO become a ball-busting lesbian, dominering workaholic or gold-digging man hunter...based on he opinions of what such a woman would be. Touching a Hooters t-shirt would definitely cause a person to become a bosomy woman...but based on that persons preconceived opinions of such a woman, they might also become a lustful slut, a money-hungry bitch, or simply a stupid bimbo. All based less on the garments, and more on subjects opinions of what sort of person would wear the garment.
Thus, when she'd damaged the Medallion, she's mentally changed into the sort of person she'd have assumed would look like she did. And in her mind, a woman of such size would be dominated by her hungers. Utterly ruled by her desires. Subtle wasn't a word that could be used to describe her, and what woman who looked like her would be either well-educated OR classy?
Thus, Vivian had become what she'd have assumed such a woman would be. A gluttionious slut with limited schooling and a bottomless appitite for self-pleasure.
Her hands sought out his crotch, and he squirmed away from her with a cry. He'd never before felt less in the mood for sex...and certainly NOT with the woman she'd become.
"NOT NOW, VIV!" he cried as he put some distance between them. "We need to figure this out! I mean, the damn Medallion..."
"Can't be used fer ages, doll..." she purred, waddling after him. "...but hey, while we're waitin' an' stuff..."
She grabbed him and forced him back against the wall, far stronger than she'd been before. He struggled against her as she forced him to the ground, slobbering kisses and giggling as she tore his own clothes off...
(Later)
John left after sex, saying he'd be back later to help Vivian change back, but obviously somewhat put off by being...well...raped. He'd looked at the clock and saw that they'd still have to wait 8 hours to change her back. It was something he was looking forward to, as THIS version of Vivian was way too over the top for him. As he'd been leaving, she was struggling into the huge dress that had changed her in the first place as she used the phone to call a local pizza place...
(Again...Later)
John found Vivian sleeping on her couch the next day. Her huge bulk filling it, empty pizza boxes on the coffee table and empty 2Ltrs of Pepsi on the floor. She was snoring contentedly, a small smile on her lips. Her brunette hair tumbling down the sides of her face.
He sorted through the clothes that had been used the previous day, and selected the blouse she'd been wearing. Best to just get her back to normal and go from there.
Vivian yawned, and blinked, smacking her plump lips and drawling out "Well, good mornin', doll. I dunno 'bout you, but I slept like a charm. Nuthin' makes a gal feel better then a couple a pizzas. How 'bout you, doll?"
She heaved herself off the couch with a grunt and waddled to his side, her hand drifting to the side of his face and stroking his cheek.
John...couldn't find the Medallion of Zulo!
(Meanwhile)
Tom Jarnigan got up the next morning, blinking and rubbing sleep from his eyes. He rolled out of bed, still amazed at that last order he'd delivered the previous night. Granted, he wasn't going to be boasting to his friends about having gotten a blow job from a 700 lb woman, but she'd also tipped well...and he'd snagged something from the table as he'd left. It was an old looking amulet or medallion with a man-like figure etched into it and one corner snapped off. It had looked more valuable last night, but still...it was kinda cool looking. Maybe he could sell it, or something?
