Raven Symone headed to her dressing room after a long day on the set of That’s So Raven. It was the middle of her third season, and the tabloid rumors of her weight gain had started to upset her, and affect her self-esteem. She had been a bear on set lately, a fat bear some of the crew members joked, and nobody argued when she decided she was done shooting for the day.
Inside her dressing room Raven locked the door and stood in the middle of the darkened room, her hands clenched in fists, as the pressure she felt in her body seemed to intensify, “Oh, I just can’t do this anymore!” Raven let her body relaxed and a most startling transformation began to occur.
A swirl of lights started at her feet and spiraled upwards around her, simultaneously transforming her. Her thighs thickened, her butt swelled, (even bigger,) her stomach’s paunch became a big old Buddha belly, her breasts already nice and big became monstrous jugs of milk, as her arms thickened. Her clothes morphed into a 19th century velour housecoat and apron. Her designer shoes became gold buckle leather boots with a 3-inch heel. She used her newly white-gloved hands to adjust the glasses that appeared on her face, “I hate that my eyesight sucks like this,” she grumbled. Her hair began to lighten to the color of new fallen snow, and made it way into a messy bun, as a bonnet appeared on her head.
“One job down, time for the next one,” Raven huffed as she opened the magic doorway, which leads her to the North Pole. It had been more than a year since she was cursed to become Mrs. Claus, and had to go fulfill her responsibilities as the wife of Santa Claus, and over seer of the slave elf race. That was her favorite part. “Yo, you elf,” Raven pointed to an elf passing by, “where’s my husband. His mocha Christmas goddess is here. Run tell dat!”
Raven wandered the campus that was the North Pole complex and ushered elves this way and that, sending them on errands and correcting work ethics. The former child star turned mythical mother figure walked around, her massive chest out, barking orders. She finally made it to her and Santa’s house and threw open the door.
“YO SANTA! One stylish piece of ass is in da hiz-zay!” Raven cupped her mouth and yelled out. By all accounts she was by far the loudest and outgoing Mrs. Claus there ever was.
Santa came down the stairs from his office, and his eyes lit up at his African American goddess. “Raven, you’re home!”
“Of course I am,” Raven smiled thrusting her big booty out for Santa. The old man lecherously smacked it, sending it wiggling and jiggling everywhere. “Oh snap!”
“God I love to watch that thing move,” Santa told her, as he got behind her and started to grind on her sweet, sweet ass. “I am so happy Carol picked your sexy ass for being the New Mrs. Claus.”
Raven continued to grind her ass into her new husband’s surprisingly large dick. “So am I, I love pushing them elves around.”
“Every Mrs. Claus does,” Santa smiled, kissing her on the lips.
“Honey, I’m having trouble shrinking down into my old look lately. I’ve been looking…fatter.”
“Just makes you look sexier.”
“No serious, I’m an actress. If I get fat, my roles get limited. And Martin Lawrence will be the only man to look at me.”
“So don’t go back, just be Mrs. Claus full time,” Santa countered, kneading her breasts form behind as he poked her in the butt with his burgeoning erection.
“Well…” Raven began, tapping her gloved finger on her chin.
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