"Guh... hah..." You moan.
Your body is obscene, an anatomy nightmare. Traps rise above your head, burying your face between them and the massive slabs of pectoral meat pressing into your chin. Biceps and triceps grown so large and swollen that they practically merge together, bulging against your torso and preventing your arms from bending anymore. Your legs are faring no better, gigantic yoga ball sized quads and near equal sized calves keeping your legs stiff and rigid. You don't even look human anymore, just a massive mound of twitching muscle.
"Well, well, well!" You hear a voice from beyond your mountains of meat. It's the cackling, overweight witch- though you're far more overweight than her by now. "Look at you, you greedy pig! Stuffed to the brim! About time, too. All this feeding you has nearly drained me!"
You try to turn your head and look at the witch as she walks from behind you, but your neck is too bulky, too overdeveloped. Suddenly on your bloated, rippling abs you feel the witch's cold, clammy hand slapping it, a deep, dense thud resounding out. "Buh... buh guh..." You groan.
"Hm? Speak up, deary!" The witch mocks you.
"Bih... bigger..." You croak out as clear as you can. "Me... make... big..."
"Tsk tsk tsk... How impudent! You're already a giant, and you still want more!" The witch tuts. "You're already more meat than I could eat in a year, why should I keep growing you?"
You don't even care that the witch admitted she wants to eat you. Her magic has warped your mind to the point that you only care about size, about mass, about MUSCLE. "Big... big... big...!" You chant.