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(This story contains male WG through magic)

Sir Geoffrey, Knight of the Grand Regal Order of Westenfeld, made his way through the Sangren Mire, using the map he’d made from information given by an elderly trapper who knew the region. Watching his step, he lithely managed to negotiate the treacherous terrain, and soon made it to dry land.

“Ogramm’s Beard, that was not easy.” Setting down the large sack he’d been carrying over his toned shoulder, he opened it to reveal pieces of plate armor. Not wishing to sink straight to the bottom of the Mire should he have a misstep, Geoffrey instead kept it in a bag that he could easily be rid of. Pulling out each piece, he strapped them to his wiry form, making certain each was secure.

Standing, he secured his sword belt around his narrow waist, primped his moustache, and went on.

Soon, after several more miles through trekless wilderness, he spied his objective. In the distance, on top of a craggy hill, amid stood a small castle with a single tower. It was the abode of Krixost, a warlock of exceeding power and great wickedness. Inside would be Geoffrey’s objective – the fair Princess Linore, who was captured by the warlock days ago.

Not wanting to think of the foul sorcerer’s intentions, he made his way across the intervening distance, through the trees, up the hill, and finally gained entrance into the castle through a small postern gate. As he descended into the dungeons, he ran across a half-dozen guards. Geoffrey drew his weapon and spoke, “By the blade of my forebears, I will be victorious!” He managed to dispatch the guards and find the cell where the Princess was being held.

Looking through the barred window, Geoffrey could see his Princess, sitting on a cot, doing some sort of needlepoint. She was young and attractive, something that hadn’t entered his mind until the King offered her hand to her rescuer. “Vlorna’s Quill, it’s good to find you, Your Highness!”

Looking up, she cried out, “Sir Geoffrey! Thank goodness!”

“Just a moment.” Geoffrey put his hands on the door and was nearly blinded by a flash of light. A wave of nausea came over him so great that he came close to collapsing.

“Sir Geoffrey!” Concerned, Linore ran to the door to see if he was alright.

Standing straight up, Geoffrey exclaimed, “Bite of Invol’s Cur, what was that?” After a second, he felt a slight tightness in his armor in places, particularly his midsection. But it wasn’t even uncomfortable, just noticeable. “Now where were we?” he said, about the touch the door again.

Linore looked concerned. “Sir Geoffrey, please be cautious. I would not have you injure yourself.”

Geoffrey deftly picked the lock and swung the door open. “Fear not, Your Highness! For I swear by your father’s throne that I will return you home safely.”

At that moment the pressure renewed, particularly in the abdomen. He was forced to quickly unbuckle his breastplate on either side only to watch it getting pushed outward. Fully removing it, he saw that midsection had expanded, forming a belly that was sticking out from his body several inches. His chest had also softened and gotten a bit larger. Geoffrey could not believe his eyes. “Maugue’s Spectacles!” He started to feel a little more pressure in his legs, and backside, but didn’t need to remove any more armor.

Linore looked aghast at the spectacle she just witnessed. With concern she asked, “Are you alright, Sir Geoffrey?”

Though he was as concerned as she, Geoffrey was determined to put on a brave face for her. “I am fine, Your Highness. I swear it by my oath and office.” He felt warmth over his body, and the pressure increased everywhere he still had armor. He hurriedly doffed the pieces in order of the mounting pressure – first from his legs, then his arms. Soon he was relieved of all armor.

While he did this, his body continued its growth. His belly stuck out even further, and began to hang down over his breeches. His hindquarters ballooned and his chest became like small breasts, resting lightly on his belly. His thighs and arms also thickened. Fortunately, his tunic had been billowy so that it would give when putting on the armor, so he was still decent. There was no mistaking it – he was fat, as fat as any moderately successful merchant.

“That foul Warlock must have set a curse on the door, causing me to gain weight with every oath and curse. Landir’s Plow!” He felt a change, but the growth wasn’t apparent compared to what he already had accumulated. “Paligri damn this reflex!” A little more. As he opened his mouth again, Linore rushed over to cover it with her hand.

Gently removing her hand, Geoffrey said, “My apologies, Your Highness. I tend to get carried away in that area.” He buckled his sword belt under his bulging belly. “This way.”

There were a few obstacles and skirmishes on the way out of the castle, during which Geoffrey managed to invoke several deities and legendary figures. As they were exiting, Geoffrey was large enough that his love handles more than brushed the edges of the narrow doorframe. His belly was now stretching his tunic and, where the garment had descended to above his knees, it now just covered the extent of his gut. His breasts were also larger, and resting heavily on his shelf of a belly.

The biggest problem he now faced was that of his trousers. They had not started out as roomy as his shirt had, so his huge hindquarters were forcing him to loosen the thongs tying the front and back panels together. Right now there was a triangle of skin showing on each side, with the point at his ankles, and the base at his hips, mostly because his butt cheeks were the size of two medium-sized pumpkins.

He led the way downhill and to the edge of the Mire. Though he would not admit it openly, Geoffrey felt winded from the excursion. Pulling out the map, he said, “Well, to look on the brighter side, at the very least I don’t have to doff my armor for this.”

Linore politely laughed at his jest, and replied, “Thank you, Sir Geoffrey. Your humor has lifted my spirits.” She put a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of appreciation.

Geoffrey entered the Mire with Linore right behind him. As he lumbered along, he thought of the view she had, and silently lamented that she would have to endure that after what she must have been through in Krixost’s clutches.

Soon enough they made it through, though Geoffrey’s added weight nearly caused him to lose his balance, causing him to swear a few more times. But he arrived on the other side not significantly larger than when he went in.

Geoffrey turned to Linore. “It will be getting dark and therefore too dangerous to travel, Your Highness. I will make camp.” He managed to find a small copse of trees nearby in which they might safely make a small fire. Geoffrey made sure his princess was made as comfortable as possible and wanted for nothing.

“Thank you, Sir Geoffrey,” she said. “Your company would make this accommodation complete. Please join me.”

Geoffrey smiled and was about to sit down when he heard a noise from the other side of a tree. Drawing his sword, he called out, “You are discovered! Come into the light, slowly!” He was surprised to see the figure coming out of the shadows was a kindly-looking crone holding an infant.

The old woman walked unsteadily toward the small fire, and blood could be seen on one side of her skirt. Geoffrey immediately sheathed his sword and helped her sit down on a log. Linore looked on with concern on her face as the crone coughed and recounted her tale.

“Kind sir and lady, my son’s farm was attacked by brigands two nights ago. Though my son and his wife were killed, I managed to escape with their only child, but suffered grave injury. Day and night I wandered, looking for a kind soul who could help me. I fear I’m not long for this world, and I need someone to promise to take this baby to the capital, and deliver her the Temple of Adri where she will be raised in safety.”

Linore took the proffered baby from the old woman. “Of course we will do this. It is only right.”

Noting Geoffrey’s silence, the aged woman said, “And what of you, Sir Knight? Surely an oath from you will put my soul at ease.”

Geoffrey looked awkwardly at both the crone and Linore. “Is not my lady’s promise sufficient?”

The old woman seemed a bit nervous as she replied, “I mean no offense, but I will rest more in peace. Then when I go to meet my son, I can tell him that yes, his daughter is safe because I had a Knight’s oath that she was. Surely you do not wish to put my soul at risk?”

“No, of course not.” With a sigh, Geoffrey drew his sword again and set its point on the ground, taking one knee, he said, “By my sword I swear that your grandchild will be delivered safely.”

As expected, at the moment those words passed his lips, his body began to get fatter. His rear increased the pressure on his trousers, such that he was forced to untie every other thong on the sides of his legs. His arms thickened to the point that his sleeves were becoming too tight, so he tore them each from his tunic in one swift motion. His chest enlarged, forming breasts rivaling those of any innkeeper’s wife. And his belly escaped out of the bottom of the shirt, causing it to ride up as it hung lower and lower.

Finally it was done. The crone’s expression turned from shock to amusement, and she began to cackle. Her body shimmered and shifted, and the infant that Linore held vanished entirely. The old woman was replaced by a hunchbacked imp of a man with a scraggly goatee.

“Krixost!” Geoffrey and Linore both exclaimed.

The warlock continued to laugh, but managed to say, “Ho! Looks like you are in quite a predicament, eh, Good Sir? I just knew that a Knight of Westenfeld could not help himself but to ‘swear an oath on his honor, blah, blah!’ You goody goody Knights are so full of yourselves, and now you look it!” He laughed even harder at the play on words.

In the meantime, Geoffrey had managed to get to his feet. He shouted, “Foul sorcerer! I promise I will defeat you someday!” and immediately regretted it, as his body accumulated more fat. His belly descended from mid-thigh to almost knee-level and caused his tunic to ride up to just above his navel. His rear end had cheeks that were the size of small barrels, and the gap between the front and back panels of his breeches grew even wider, and barely held on the way it was tied.

Once he began to grow, the warlock’s laughter increased in intensity. When it finally stopped, Krixost disappeared. Geoffrey sat down heavily on a log.

After a moment of silent thought, Geoffrey finally spoke. “Your Highness, I don’t think I can go through with it.”

Linore looked shocked. “Sir Geoffrey, you must bring me back safely!”

“No, I didn’t mean that, You Highness. I’ve already promised to do that, and I do not intend to abandon that oath, especially after paying for it as I have. What I mean is, your father promised your hand to your rescuer.”

Linore smiled with relief. “Well, I would have been surprised if he hadn’t. It is tradition.”

“Yes, well, I just felt I should tell you that my intention is to politely refuse your father’s offer. Given what has happened to me, I cannot in good conscience inflict this burdensome form on you to wed. So, I must try to save what honor I can and tell your father that I cannot.”

Linore smiled even brighter, and replied, “Oh, Sir Geoffrey, you would not be a burden to me. You are a kind soul who always has done what is best at cost to yourself. I would gladly wed thee no matter what your appearance. But also, I must confess that I have a fondness for heavier men, and do not find you hideous at all.”

Geoffrey tried not to look as incredulous as he felt. “Truly, Your Highness?”

Linore laughed pleasantly. “Yes, truly! I would be happy to be married to you!”

Geoffrey smiled and replied, “Then let’s make sure I don’t make any more oaths before we return.”

And so they did, even though it took a few days longer due to Geoffrey’s slower pace. Finally, though, they made it to the palace and, after hearing their tale and of the curse, the King made the betrothal official.

Days later, they were to be married in the small Royal Chapel, with only the King and Queen and trusted staff in attendance. Geoffrey and Linore stood before a priest in the traditional simple robes, Geoffrey’s draped on the floor in all directions.

When the priest got to the part of the ceremony where they exchanged vows, Geoffrey breathed in deeply, ready to take the most important oath of his life.