Sherlock Holmes: A case of expansion

by Bigmanfan

Holmes and Watson investigate a missing man, only to find that things are bigger than they expected.

Added: May 2021 4,378 words 3,186 views 4.0 stars (2 votes)


Within his room, Sherlock sighed at the discussion he was hearing in the other room. The intellectual man played a few tones off his violin before placing the instrument down when the sound of the front door closed and footsteps began to approach his quarters. He turned towards the opening door, seeing his friend and partner John Watson standing there.

“I take it we have a new case?” Sherlock asked, leaning back to put on his coat. He went through the usual ritual of getting dressed as John nodded, holding a file filled with papers.

“It seems so. The client was Madam del Salle asked for help with locating her estranged brother. It seems he’s been missing for weeks and no one has an idea as to his location,” John said, holding the file for Sherlock to take.

“I take it the police have already been informed?” Sherlock asked, stepping around John and taking the file. Flickering through the pages that had information and a photo of the alleged missing man.

The missing man in question was Jacob del Salle. A 28-year-old bachelor who worked for a trading company that held business with trade routes leading to the Far East. The files detailing how he seemed to regularly go on yearly trips to Japan since he began almost ten years ago. He was reported missing three weeks ago after taking a month’s worth of leave from his work. The forms didn’t give many details aside from his work address and the key for Jacob’s residence.

“She had tried, but the police wrote him off as having just gone off for a trip without informing anyone, saying there were some damaged items at his home but nothing of major note,” John said, sighing at the near frantic way Holmes went through the papers. “That is despite the evidence that he left his passport and travel documents.”

“Shame. We’ll start at his residence and go from there,” Sherlock said, seeing how one of the forms listed it as being the last place he was seen at before seeming to disappear into the night.

With that, the two men made their way out of 221b Baker Street, unaware of what they will uncover.

“It seems he’s interested in things from the East,” John said as the two men entered the home of their missing man. Getting through the entryway, they found a collection of vases and wall decorations that belonged to the Eastern side of the trade routes.

“Quite, especially from Japan if these designs are to be believed as authentic,” Sherlock said, glancing over the textiles across the walls before moving further into the house. Getting to the parlour, they passed the sight of the sofa that had snapped in half from the middle along with its ornate legs broken off.

“Odd, it looks to be brand new,” John said as he approached the ruined furnishing, seeing how the velvet upholstery seemed to have been stained with some type of liquid. “Was Jacob some kind of rough houser?”

“You’ve seen the photo of the man, Watson. He barely weighed fifty kilos. I doubt the man alone could have done this,” Sherlock said, looking around the practically immaculate room before moving further into the house. Climbing up the stairs, Holmes took in how the floorboards on the steps had dents with the wallpaper to his sides having minor cracks and what seemed to be the same stains that trailed up. Passing by a hallway, Sherlock saw a few photos that were clearly from Jacob’s travels, one in particular, showing him seated in traditional garb along with several rather large men.

Entering what seemed to be the master bedroom, the bed that took up a portion of the room was on the floor, seeming to have met the same fate as the sofa downstairs. Looking around beyond that, he found a length of cloth that could easily be used to wrap around him multiple times as if to mummify him like the relics in the museum. Lifting it, Holmes picked up the faint smell of sweat coming off the trail of cotton.

“Was that used for binding?” John asked as he walked up into the room. Seeing how Sherlock was taking in the fabric that was spread across the floor.

“It seems to be the fabric used to craft a Fundoshi, though a significant more length than what would be needed,” Sherlock explained, putting the cloth down as he examined the room from his low point. Glancing towards the wardrobe, Sherlock noticed something catching the light from the window. “Watson, your cane,” Sherlock said, barely waiting for a response as he took the cane from John, he swept it under the furniture before the cane nudged a small bottle with a tag, causing it to roll out.

“It seems our missing man has been up to something.” Getting up, Sherlock handed the cane back to John before picking up the glass bottle. It looked like an average pill bottle, though it was empty and held no information save for the tag that read ‘Eat Me’ in cursive writing.

“A reference to the novel?” John asked, taking the bottle and giving it a quick smell, though he found he was unable to detect any scents that might link them to what used to be housed in the bottle.

“Probably. There are plenty of drugs that can be used to make a person believe they’re either shrinking or growing,” Sherlock said, opening the wardrobe, finding an assortment of clothing both for everyday use and what seemed to be kimonos from Japan. Looking down, he found a collection of shoes with all of them having dark clay on the soles. Lifting a sandal that looked like it belonged in Japan rather than England, he saw the clay had stuck to the elevated blocks on the bottom. “It seems Jacob has taken to visiting a certain bathhouse.”

“That sadly doesn’t narrow things down. There are several bathhouses in Greater London alone,” John said, pocketing the bottle as he followed behind Sherlock.

“Yes, but this clay on the show is only found in one district in London, and even more so inside since these sandals aren’t exactly appropriate to wear outside. The only buildings are in a block within the southern district that had been developed only to stop midway through. And if my hunch is correct, there should be only one bathhouse for us to check,” Sherlock said, standing up and brushing off the dust as he and John made their way out. “While I go and signal down our transport, I suggest you speak with his neighbours and see if any of them heard anything before his disappearance.”

Heading out of the building, Sherlock drifted off in thought as he let John interview the neighbours. The damaged furniture would have been seen as a sign of an altercation, yet nothing else was damaged in the home and there didn’t seem to be signs of theft with the expensive memorabilia still on display. The collection of Japanese items made sense considering the man’s work. Though the bottle was a question mark as nowhere in the documents or within the home was there a trace of any prolonged drug use.

“What did you learn?” Sherlock asked as he was John approaching, hailing down a carriage before the two made their way to the district.

“Overall, they say he was a pleasant neighbour. Jacob kept to himself at times, barely made noise and was relatively calm,” Watson explained, looking over a notebook he had used to record the statements. “Though they commented on how the week before he vanished, they heard loud noises and strange smells coming from his room. They didn’t see anything large being brought into the house so it was odd,” John read before closing the small book.

“It seems our missing man has been up to something rather interesting,” Sherlock mused, wondering what exactly their missing man had been up to.

After some time of being brought over the cobbled streets of London, the two men arrived at the district the clay came from. Sherlock kept his eyes outside as they rode around, before spotting the large enough building for the bathhouse. The brick building set up that it was clearly a private establishment. Getting off the carriage, the two men made their way to the entrance, finding themselves in an interior that was styled more akin to Eastern Style rather than the traditional Roman style that had been popularised around London.

Getting to the main counter, Sherlock and John were meet with a young man dressed in a slim-fitting shirt, making notes in a ledger book. He looked up at the two men walking in.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” He asked, closing the book as they approached him.

“Yes, we’re investigating the whereabouts of a man who may have been a member of this establishment, a Jacob del Salle,” John began, only to stop as the man raised a hand to stop him.

“I’m sorry, detectives, but our facility offers complete protection and anonymity for our clients. Because of that, I’m afraid I can’t help you by giving details about the men who visit us.”

“What about if clients speak with clients?” Sherlock asked, hand in his pocket as he already made a plan.

“Well, nothing is stopping that. Though clients don’t want to speak of what happens here beyond the walls,” the man explained, smiling as he reopened the ledger. “Can I interest you gentlemen in a membership to our club?”

After a couple of negotiations between them and the young man, who they learned was named Lucas. Sherlock and John paid a deposit for membership before walking into the main area of the bathhouse, pausing in the locker room to place their belongings in the cubby holes.

“Oh gentlemen,” Lucas called out to them as the two men stood, clad only in the towels around their waists. “If you want to ask about Mister del Salle, might I suggest the steam room. There’s a client who might know of him.”

“Well, thank you. I will make sure we didn’t hear that from you,” Sherlock said with a smile and wink to the young man before he and Watson headed off through the bathhouse, making their way they found a sign for the steam room.

Arriving at the surprisingly wide door, the two investigators went inside to be met with a surprising sight. Seated across one of the stone benches in the room was the largest man any of them have ever seen. His huge body taking up the bench that was surely cracking beneath his ample rear, fat rolls spilling out over the bricks that could have comfortably seated three men. The huge man’s thick legs were spread out, allowing the huge cascade of fat that was his belly to spill out, brushing the tiled floor as it spread out before them. Atop the hair apron of fat were two huge mounds that were his man breasts, folding back under his arms and forcing the thick limbs up at an angle. The bearded man’s face sunk into a ring of fat that was his neck, blending into the wide fat that was his shoulders.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” the deep-voiced man asked, shaking his sweat dripping body as he filled out a section of the usually spacious room. The voice pulled John from his stunned silence and Sherlock from his thoughts over how a man could possibly reach such an impressive size.

“Oh, just new members. Decided to take in the steam room,” Sherlock said, taking lead as he and John took their seat on a bench aside from the huge man.

“Well, always a treat to meet more members, especially those who have a taste for big things,” the huge man said with a chuckle as he patted his gargantuan body, causing it to jiggle and wobble, causing a few drops of sweat to fly off. “Now, why don’t you men tell me why you’re here?”

“Well, I suppose you should know,” John began, earning a side look from Sherlock. “Our friend recommended this place. Do you know a Jacob del Salle?” John said, earning a focused look from the cheerful gigantic man.

“Ah, Jacob. He’s a great friend of mine too. He’s such a good friend, I know for a fact he wouldn’t introduce this bathhouse to people who’d be surprised by me,” the huge man said before grunting as he leaned forward, his swollen gut spreading out further on the ground, pooling out to press against Sherlock’s and John’s legs as the broad man filled their view. “So why don’t we beat around the bush and you tell me exactly why you’re here?”

The two men glanced between them, feeling the heavy, sweat dripping flesh cover their legs as the huge man approached them. Rather than see just how much the huge man could smother them with pure fat, Sherlock decided on a plan.

“In truth, we were hired by del Salle’s sister to his whereabouts. May I assume you have an idea?” He said, ignoring the aggravated look on John as the huge men leaned back, releasing them from the sweaty hold. The blob-like man’s face broke in a smile as he laughs, his broad shoulders, breasts, and belly shaking wildly as he chuckled deeply.

“Oh boys, why didn’t you lead with that. I actually brought him to a club he’d wanted to join and he’s been a regular sight in the matches we held there,” the huge man said, surprising the two investigators with the change in mood, and more so with the news that the rather slim man seemed to have great capabilities in hand to hand combat.

“I see, can you tell us where we might find this club?” John asked, trying not to stare at the colossal sized man who would have fitted in a circus sideshow rather than an expensive, private bathhouse.

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll leave you some tickets for the club at the front desk,” the huge man said, chuckling as the shaking waves of his fat began to calm down. “Now, since I’ve worked up a sweat, I think it’s time to enjoy the hot water. Feel free to join, boys,” he said before grunting deeply as he worked to get his body into a standing position, his heavy body towering high that if Sherlock and John, both of decent height, were standing up they’d find themselves barely coming up to the huge man’s drooping breasts. With a gasping breath from the movement, they watched him waddle to the door, his huge ass on display as it was clear there was no towel big enough to cover the huge man. His wobbling body swaying with every step he took, crouching down slightly as he squeezed out of the steam room before he waddled off, each step shaking the room slightly.

“By God, how could someone allow himself to get so massive?” John said in shock, looking out the doorway the man just left from.

“Well, I’m not sure. Though it would seem he’d been that size for some time,” Sherlock said, looking to where the man had been seated, seeing the cracks in the brick and even the minor dents in the floor.

“Well… I certainly did not expect this,” John said as the two men walked into the underground club.

True to his word, once they left the bathhouse, Lucas approached them to give them an envelope containing two tickets. The address and time lead them to a guarded house a few hours later, their tickets reviewed before being guided down a flight of stairs.

Rather than the rough and decrepit locations, they would usually see fights being done in, often under some bar, they were instead shown a rather expansive hall. Rows of seats forming around a circle within the ring. Going around were butlers offering drinks to the men and informing the newcomers where they could place their bets for tonight’s fight.

“I will admit, it does fit the theme that Mister del Salle had been building around him,” Sherlock said as he and John handed their coats over before moving to take a seat as a ringing was announced that clearly signalled a fight was to start by how the mingling men made their way to a seat.

After some time, the stands filled with the men who came for the show, the stadium shook slightly as if something heavy was being moved within the expansive openings that were before the ring. Eventually, two huge sights came into view much to the cheers of the audience.

“My God, they’re even bigger,” John said in a hushed whisper as they watched two huge men, easily dwarfing the huge man from the bathhouse in size, waddle into the ring. Their huge bellies dropping down but held up by a cloth wrapped around their waists, though doing little to hide their impressive rears as they waddled on. Both raised their arms to the crowds, showing off their multiple rolls as the crowd cheered. Eventually, the two made their way to the marked sections of the ring, filling it out as the diminutive referee stood between them, easily small enough to fit in one of the huge ass cheeks of the titanic sized men.

“John doesn’t the wrestler in red look familiar?” Sherlock whispered back, the huge men going through a form of ceremony as they prepared for battle, tossing salt over their shoulders and stomping their feet. Focusing on the red cloth wearing man, John saw how despite the fat-filled face covered with a bushy beard, he did look familiar. As the bell rung, he realised just as the fight began, the huge men rushing at one another, their bodies slapping with a wet slap as they tried to push the other out of the ring. They watched with the silent crowd as the men fought, grabbing on to one another’s heavy fat rolls as they tried to bring the other out.

After some time and heavy panting from both men, the man in red cloth seemed to have gotten leverage before managing to push the other man out of the ring and onto the ground with an earthshaking quake. The crowd cheered as the sweaty colossus raised his arms in pride.

“H-how did he get so big?” John asked, unable to believe such a man could change so quickly.

“We’ll just have to ask,” Sherlock said, getting up as the huge man they recognised as Jacob del Salle helped his opponent up, clearly the only one big enough to do so, before they waddled back off into the back rooms. Whilst the crowd relaxed between matches, the two men made their way to follow their missing man.

“Excuse me. Jacob, I presume?” Sherlock called to the huge man in the expansive hallway, earning a surprising jump from the colossal man, shaking the hallway with a rather comedic reaction from the huge behemoth.

“H-How do you know my name?” the huge man asked, looking down at the two men as he turned to them, his fat body jiggling from the movement, sweat dripping from the workout he had before with the match.

“I apologise for the fright. Your sister hired me and my associate to find you,” Sherlock began, seeing the scared look on the man’s face before continuing. “Do not worry, we haven’t told her anything, though I feel you have some questions to answer for.”

The huge Jacob looked at the smaller men before sighing. “Of course, follow me. I feel it’d be better to sit down and continue this talk,” he said, turning back to lead Sherlock and John into the inner section of the ring. The backrooms were filled with huge men just like Jacob, some helping others put their mawashis on whilst others were stretching before their matches began. A few were even gorging on food, making pure gluttons of themselves as they ate enough to feed a household. Eventually, Jacob came to a bench that looked to have been reinforced to hold up the huge men that were common here. Jacob sat down with a deep thud and a sigh of relief, wiping sweat off his brow as he still towered over the smaller men. “Sorry, work up a sweat moving around.”

“I can see that. Might I start by asking what exactly happened to you?” Sherlock lead, figuring John was too entranced by the massive men that waddled around the area, shaking the ground subtly.

“The owner here has a special pill that’ll make you big for a few hours. I took a dosage that’ll keep me this size for a few weeks. In fact, I have a week left before its effects fade,” Jacob said, patting his swollen gut before looking back at the smaller men. “You see, I’ve always been fascinated with larger men, yet I wasn’t blessed to have that physique. Even with my travels to Japan showing me how revered the size was, I could only observe, never live it. That is under Porter from the bathhouse showed me a way I could make my dreams come true.”

“I take it that saw to the destruction of your furniture at your residence?” John asked, earning a surprised look from Jacob. “Your sister gave us permission to search it when looking for you.”

Jacob sighed before shaking his fat head. “Of course she did. Yes, I was a bit sceptical and tried the product out, unfortunately, my home was not built for a man this size,” Jacob said, smirking as he gave his belly a shake, causing his entire body to wobble about wildly. “After that, I was offered a chance to have some fun within the club by taking part in the matches.”

“I see. I suppose we can inform your sister that you simply went on a private trip with your club and you’ll return to your residence by next week?” Sherlock asked, earning a relieved sigh and nod from the huge colossus of a man. “Okay, before we go. May I ask you a favour?”

“So she wasn’t exactly thrilled to have wasted her money and time searching for her brother, but she seemed relieved to know he was okay,” John explained as he walked into Sherlock’s chamber, seeing the man relaxing on his bed.

“Well, it really was Jacob’s fault for failing to inform his sister that he was going on a trip,” the man said, smirking as he watched John take off his jacket. Getting up, he waited for John to take a seat before moving to the cabinet where a new bottle rested.

“Did you have to ask for a sample of the pills?” John asked, watching as Sherlock poured some pills into his hand.

“Why not. I’m certain even you were interested in the size of those men,” Sherlock said with a smirk, finding it going wider as John did not rebuke him.

“At least take off your clothes so you don’t ruin them.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Sherlock said before swallowing the pills with a quick drink of water. Standing at the foot of the bed, the detective let out a moan as his body felt warm, his clothing getting tighter, constricting around his swelling form.

“Oh, God… I can see how… uff… addicting this can be,” Sherlock moaned as he swelled bigger, the buttons on his shirt straining from the force before popping off one by one, his swelling mass forcing his clothes apart as he seemed to inflate. The stretching body growing taller as he swelled further out, his clothing shredding against the onslaught of fat that was surging off him. Sherlock’s height stabilised as his hair brushed the ceiling of the room, the floorboards creaking beneath his fattening feet as he kept growing fatter. The once form-fitting clothing was nothing more than scraps of cloth clinging to his swelling body, pressed by his growing, hair covered fat rolls. His once flat stomach swelled over his thickening thighs, spreading out as it grew towards the floor. His growing arms being forced at an angle with his swelling man breasts. With a booming belch that shook the windows on Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes felt the growth stop, now taking up a portion of his bedroom. His belly pooling out to press against the foot of his bed whilst his wide backside and ample ass pressed against the far wall, his body spreading and taking up the room. Panting deeply, Sherlock regained his senses with a smile as he looked down at his partner, seeing the shock on John’s face, but also the clear erection on the front of his pants.

“Well John,” Sherlock began, reaching a fattened hand to grab one of the fat rolls he could reach. Giving his ample form a shake and causing all his body to ripple and jiggle. “Shall we have some fun?”

“Sherlock, you’re too big for the bed,” John said, earning a moan from Sherlock at the realisation of just how immense he was.

“Don’t worry, you can rest on my belly once we’re done.”

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