>_< 0_0

Chapter Forty Together we set out across the beach and sought a crack in the cliffside that could lead us into the island’s shady interior. Alas, what gaps we found were too overgrown and steep to dare crawl through – especially with our skin gaping through our pigskins (and in Lesh’s case, her exposed legs under her leather kilt). So it was that we tread our way down the sandy white beach, with the waves rolling to our left, the cliffs looming to our right, and trees hanging heavily overhead with a bounty of fruits never seen before. It was one such fruit that Victoria had plucked from the sand and proceeded to dust lightly as we continued our slow, casual treading. “Well, at least we won’t starve here,” Victoria mused as she eyed the round, white fruit. “Are you sure you can eat that?” I asked. “Oh, don’t be like that,” Lesh said with the faintest hint of malice in her voice. “Go ahead, Vicky. Eat up. How’s it taste? Feel any different?” “Mm!” Victoria’s mouth was already full, having carved a wide bite from the mystery fruit, revealing juicy, yellow innards within it. “It’sh good! Sho good!” “I guess that checks out,” I said thoughtfully. “They wouldn’t send us somewhere dangerous, right Lesh?” “I’m not a fucking stuffer, so I don’t know shit about this place,” Lesh said firmly. “All I know is we box y’all stuffers and float you downstream… so what’s our beer snob think of the taste? Try to describe it in one breath this time.” Victoria swallowed and smiled thoughtfully. “Hm… crispy. There’s a fizzy texture when you bite it that reminds me of sparkling wine.” “So it’s good?” I asked. “Oh, it’s good – here, have a bite.” I reached for the white fruit she was holding-out – only for Lesh to snatch it away. “Uh, fine… whatever,” I grumbled. Lesh bit greedily into the fruit, her tusks sinking deep and tearing chunks away She glared defiantly at me, no doubt eager to fight for any excuse. Victoria, meanwhile, looked as if she were unsure whether to complain or run in terror. I glanced warily at the two girls, contemplating the building tension and weighing my options. A fight would be entertaining, but I deserved my peace and quiet after so much hardship, and so I patted Victoria on the shoulder and smiled at her to console her. “No big deal,” I told her softly. “She didn’t eat that feast with us, remember? Come on. There’s more fruit out there.” With that, we set out once more, two stuffers following the beach with a sword-sworn orc stuffing her face just behind us. There were, in fact, plenty of fruits to feed upon. The first white fruit was followed by countless more, as well as coconuts, bush-fulls of berries, a bizarre ground-fruit that looked like a giant pinecone, and a dizzying myriad of edibles of every colour imaginable. Plenty abounded all around us, and our hands and mouths were never empty for long. It seemed that our journey had become a culinary adventure. With each newly-discovered food, Victoria would take the first cautious bite. This suited me, for I wasn’t in a hurry to be poisoned again, and I could tell Lesh felt the same, but as the day wore on, such caution became a formality. It seemed nothing on this island was dangerous. In fact, the fruits we found were the freshest, most delicious we’d ever had – so much so that we never stopped eating. It was only as the sun began to set over the blazing, orange sea that we stopped for shelter beneath a tight cluster of palm trees. None of us knew how to kindle a campfire, but with the air so hot and humid, it was almost a relief that night had finally come – almost, for it was getting too dark to find more fruit. “Ooh…” Victoria slumped against a palm tree, the sunken sun outlining the swollen crest of her belly. “I didn’t realize how much we’d eaten today. Look how stuffed I am.” “We?” Lesh leaned against another palm tree with her arms folded over her tits (no doubt to hide the fact they were leaking). “You two may have stuffed your faces, but don’t think I’m like you.” “But didn’t you eat the same as us?” asked Victoria. “Doesn’t matter,” Lesh’s arms squeezed tighter over her chest. “No one gets fat on fruit. It’s mostly water… the fuck you looking at, Deep Purple?” “Just looking for a couple melons,” I replied. Lesh seemed ready to pounce upon me, but before that could happen, Victoria raised her hand. “Um, I was wondering something,” Victoria grunted slightly to angle herself toward us. “Why are you with us, Lesh?” I stiffened, for it was only then that I realized how clueless Victoria truly was. Of course, I couldn’t simply explain to her my midnight walk that had resulted in Lesh’s current condition, but then again, neither could Lesh. To do so wouldn’t just be unbearably embarrassing for her, it would rob her of what little dignity she had left. And so I held my tongue. I was curious to see what excuses and lies she told, for the truth would eventually come out – straight through her shirt. “It doesn’t matter,” Lesh snarled. “I was betrayed – stabbed in the fucking back. When we reach the villa, I’m finding a way off this island and you’ll never see me again. That’s all you need to know. Now hit the sack and get some sleep.” “Let’s,” Victoria replied, satisfied. “Hopefully this bloating is gone by morning… um…” I felt her staring at me even though the sun’s light was gone. “What?” “Can we…?” she reached for me with open arms. No doubt, she yearned to be held. “Too hot,” I replied. “I’m still sweating from our walk.” “Oh… then perhaps…?” she turned to Lesh. “Go to sleep!” Lesh snapped. Victoria quailed at the harsh tone and curled into a ball, holding herself as best she could. Stars still sparkled in the sky when I was awoken by Victoria’s voice once more. “Zaiva…” she whispered with barely-contained panic. “Zaiva…” I turned wearily toward her – only to gasp wide-eyed, my weariness forgotten. There, crawling across Victoria’s lap, the faintest hint of a most hideous creature shown in the moonlight. “H-help…” Victoria squeaked. “It’s c-cr-crawling on me…” My shock ebbed from my veins with every deep, rattled breath as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The creature’s hardy skin became clearer to me and a passing memory returned to me of a tall tale shared by a far-traveling assassin back at the fortress: a tale of the most fearsome armoured sea creature to crawl across the sands. “Coconut crab,” I whispered. “Gods… it’s bigger than I thought.” “Shh!” Victoria begged. “You’ll make it angry.” The poor girl tried desperately to blow air at the crab’s face, but in vain. The crab was creeping closer, its pincers getting ever-nearer to her breasts… her round, coconut-sized breasts…” “Hey,” Lesh stirred angrily from her sleep. “Someone better be dying to wake me up like – what the flying fuck is that?” Victoria moaned as the crab continued its crawl across her body. She was on the brink of screaming – until Lesh kicked the crab into the dark void of the night. A faint splash was the last I heard of the creature. “Fucking hells!” Lesh kicked a rock for good measure. “Can’t even sleep right…” Victoria screamed and pointed towards the churning sea. When I followed her gaze, I felt my hopes for a full-night’s rest were extinguished. The beach was crawling…

Chapter Thirty-Nine I was in the training yard again and I was naked. Sweat glistened across my dark purple skin like moistened river rocks. It was an all-too-familiar experience and yet… something was wrong. My round, full breasts had grown rounder and fuller, resting heavily against my chest, and a nervous brush of my hand across my belly found it to be soft and smooth, protruding like a new mother just beginning to show. I gasped when I looked-up, for I wasn’t alone. All along the fence-line, hundreds stood, staring at me. No… not hundreds. Thousands. The whole Scorpion Order was here, watching me. With rising dread, I turned and twisted to see them all. I felt my cheeks fold and squeeze against each other with every shift of my thick thighs, and my legs rubbed against one another. I was surrounded; there was no escaping their judgement. “Help!” Except… they weren’t the Scorpion Order. They were the Starter Girls. They were staring at me with fear in their eyes. They were scared of what was sure to come – our fate to be sent to the Sultan’s Harem. I could hear Victoria crying out even now… “Help meee!” she cried-out again. “Let me out!” My eyes twitched… and I found that they were closed. I was awake now… it had all been a dream. I groaned and tried to stretch the sleep out of my body – only for my elbows to hit wood on either side of me. It made me blink in confusion. Odd… my eyes were open, but there was only darkness. “Is there someone out there?” Victoria’s voice was close, but muffled. “Hel-lo? Someone get me out of this coffin!” Coffins! Of course! My memory of the events prior returned with crystal clarity. The dinner, the betrayal, the island… and now I was trapped in a coffin on some unknown beach. Or was I? I shifted my weight within my corkwood tomb. Surely, we wouldn’t be put into something with no way out. The wood itself was tight (and certainly waterproof), but its edges felt rough, as if they could be easily pried-open. I pounded my fist against the roof above to test that theory, and was rewarded with a slim crack of light. “Who’s there?” Victoria squealed. “Zaiva, is that you?” “Shut up,” I snapped. “Oh, thank the good gods you’re here! Can you help me? I am in need of assistance.” I punched the coffin again. Cracks formed where my fist landed, revealing a bright, summer sun that hurt my eyes. “Zaiva? What’s going on out there?” “I’m punching my way out. You should do likewise.” “But I can’t see…” I punched harder and my fist thrust clear through the cheap, thin wood. The hot, noonday sun blazed directly overhead. I was blinded once again, but I was free. Hence, I emerged from the wreckage of my corkwood coffin. “Ahh,” I sat upright and stretched my arms with a yawn. “Finally… oh…” Too late, I saw that the coffin was equipped with a simple bronze latch that opened from the inside. Oh well. At least I enjoyed punching my way through a problem, for once. It was a tropical paradise. Sandy beaches shone white from horizon to horizon, and palm trees hung low from an overgrown cliffside laden with coconuts. An intact coffin lay on the sand at an angle just to my right – along with a broken one to my left. I winced at the sight of the broken coffin. Its wood lay splintered in all directions as if it had exploded from the inside-out, and worse, various leathers lay I a heap just beyond the reach of the frothing waves. I knew those garments all too well: Lesh was near – and apparently naked. Why? Perhaps she was attempting to swim off the island… “Zaiva!” Victoria cried-out from within the single remaining cork coffin. “Did you find a way out? Could you be so kind as to get me out?” “There’s a latch inside,” I said. “Feel around for it.” “Um…” the coffin bumped and budged slightly. “Where?” “Hold on…” Victoria began complaining, but I tuned her out because I spotted someone swimming in the waves. I squinted, for the mysterious figure had reached the massive crest of frothing water that was ringing the island. My traumatic experience with killing a mermaid had taught me the layout of shallow shores well. Those waves marked the dropoff point, where the ground underwater descended to unseen depths into the black sea where the sun couldn’t shine. The whole might of that mighty sea was crashing into that wall, churning into deadly waves high as homes. To attempt fighting those waves was unthinkable – and yet… “It’s Lesh,” I muttered. “Those green cheeks bobbing in the waves can’t be anyone else.” I heard the coffin’s lid spring open with a bang and a gasp, but still I ignored it – even as Victoria emerged and sidled up to me. “Ah! Fresh air! What is this place? Did you say Lesh was with us?” “I did. Look,” I nodded towards the waves. “See that naked orc struggling out there?” “Good heavens! It’s Lesh! But… why is she out there?” “Trying to escape back home, no doubt.” “But… she can’t swim through that! No one can!” “Exactly. Looks like she’s drowning.” “Drowning?” Victoria gripped my arm and squeezed as if she were the one in mortal danger. “You can’t let her drown, Zaiva! You must save her!” “Me?” “Well, I can’t swim, so it’s only natural.” “I’m not about to drown myself trying to save anyone. All we can do is watch.” And that’s exactly what we did. It was surreal how tranquil and pleasant the island paradise was when someone was on the brink of death. Victoria moaned and gasped with each crashing wave over Lesh’s flailing body, yet I could only think of how the orc had treated me before one final, failed betrayal. Perhaps it suited me that our rivalry would end this way. Out of the corner of my eye, two crabs sidestepped into the crashing froth to evade a swooping seagull. Even in paradise, violence came naturally. “Look!” Victoria tugged my arm and pointed. “I think she passed-out! She’s… she’s floating back to us!” “How lucky,” I said neutrally. “Usually the riptide takes you at that distance.” Lesh was indeed floating back to shore. With limbs limp and head lolling beneath the water, it was only the natural buoyancy of her melon-sized breasts keeping her afloat. I frowned to myself, for things had become complicated. How would Victoria react if I killed her? how would Lesh react if I didn’t? There was no time to think of such things, for Lesh was already beached halfway to shore. Victoria rushed ahead, splashing in ankle-deep froth to the orc’s side. “She isn’t breathing!” Victoria yelled. “Zaiva! Zaiva come help me save her!” I approached as Victoria dragged Lesh by the armpits to the dry sands. I stared down at her, unsure of my next move. Dare I kill her? It would be easy. All I had to do was lay a hand over her chest – just so – and wait… But then Lesh sputtered to life. Mouthfuls of salty seawater spewed forth from her mouth down her heaving, green chest as she gagged and gasped for air. “You saved her, Zaiva!” Victoria gushed. “You saved her!” Lesh’s coughing subsided, her face settling into confusion. “You… saved me?” My eyes widened. What had I just gotten myself into? Victoria was doting on me as if I were some kind of saviour. Even Lesh was gripping my forearm with a mixture of reverence and disbelief. “I… of course,” I gripped Lesh’s hand and helped her to her feet. “We need to work together to survive this place.” This situation, it seemed, would work.

Chapter Thirty-Eight “I must say…” Victoria smacked her lips after she swallowed her food. “This is the best roast duck I have eaten since the Crown-Prince’s birthday last year.” I was barely listening to her, for there were simply too many distractions in the room. The sword-sworn chow hall was small and had no glass tables or benches for passerby to ogle our ever-widening haunches, but it compensated with modest splendour befitting a seasoned sword-sworn unit. Ribbons adorned mahogany walls, interspersed with commemorative bronze placards. Centred amidst it all was an enormous seal depicting an orcish helmet and wo crossed swords. Just above it, a portrait of the Sultan stared soullessly at the rest of the room. “You like that?” Veng asked me. I stared dumbly at her. “Oh… yes. The duck tastes good… but there’s a lot less food here than I’m used to.” “That’s cause this meal isn’t meant for stuffing you – you’ll get plenty of that later. This meal is for pleasure. Speaking of which… Lesh?” “Hrm?” Lesh had been staring miserably at her plate of untouched food. “I think we’re ready for drinks. Why don’t you pour some ale? The youngest sword-sworn serves the oldest.” I gave both orcs a curious look. “Lesh is the youngest? I didn’t expect that.” “Well,” Veng winked. “She says she’s the youngest.” “Here,” Lesh forced three pitchers across the table to us. “Drink up.” “Aren’t you forgetting one?” asked Veng with a smile. “Don’t…” Lesh muttered. “Fine. Fine. I’ll have one – only one.” “Hydrate or die,” Veng nodded. “Let’s drink to that…” “Yes, let’s!” Victoria said eagerly. We leaned over the table and clinked mugs. I took my first swig of alcohol in ages. Perhaps it was good, but I cared more about how Lesh reacted to it. I was looking at her now a she paused hesitantly with the mug masking her face. Her narrow, hateful eyes caught me staring, but I didn’t look away. It was only when Veng started looking as well that she finally took her first fateful sip. “That’s good shit,” Veng stated proudly. “It’s just ale,” Lesh muttered. “Maybe you just need to finish it,” I smiled knowingly at her. “Just to make sure.” “The drow is right!” Veng slammed her fist on the table. “We should chug this and… the fuck are you doing, Vicky?” Victoria, it seemed, hadn’t even tasted her ale. Instead, she was pushing her mug in neat yet noisy little circles across the table. “This is how you taste fine drink,” Victoria insisted. “You have to swirl it a bit… gets the flavour out.” “Uh huh…” Veng squinted incredulously. “Next, you smell it – like this. Your nose kisses the glass three times like it’s a long-missed lover. Three sniffs: one quick ‘peck on the check,’ followed by a longer ‘peck on the other cheek,’ and finally… a long whiff… sniff…” “And then you drink it…” Veng insisted. “Next, you spill the top off the drink onto the floor – the worst part of the drink is always scumming the top…” “Just drink your drink, crazy! Everyone finish your drinks right now!” At last, we all drank our mugs dry. I’d never been a guzzler, but this ale was smooth enough to give me no trouble. Ironically, it was Victoria who nearly gagged while chugging. As for Lesh, it seemed that first sip had awakened a deep thirst within her she could no longer deny. She gulped greedily, her mug tilting ever-higher till its base was pointed skyward-only for her to slam it down on the table. I smiled, for it seemed she was mad at her lack of self-control. “Well,” Veng smirked as Victoria stifled a cough. “What does our drinking expert think? Did it taste like ale?” “Ahem,” Victoria masked her cough with her hand. “I should hope so – not that I’ve had any before. It has a… real earthy, gritty texture to it with a hint of… milk? Is there milk in this? It smells funny.” “Perhaps the milk smell is coming from somewhere else,” I said with a subtle nod in Lesh’s direction. “Enough of this,” Lesh snapped. “Veng! Tell them. Tell them before I eat – till I throw this plate, godsdamnit.” Veng smiled to herself before answering. “Alright. Have it your way. Ladies, lean-in a little bit and I’ll tell you what happens next: you’re going back to the showers, you understand? Remember that cave where you went through a waterfall?” “Yes,” Victoria nodded. “Tight. What’s gonna happen is you’re gonna be loaded in a couple coffins and sent downstream to the sea. From there, you’ll beach onto –” “Did you say coffins?” Victoria’s eyes were wide and panicked. “Cork coffins, yes. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Cork floats.” “But—” “Hold all questions to the end and lemme finish. You’re gonna land on an island, got it? When you wake up, find your way to the cliffside villa. You’ll know it when you see it. Don’t worry how you’ll get to it; everyone finds their own way. Got it? Questions?” I folded my arms and leaned closer. “About those coffins…” “Yes,” Victoria was panting now. “Why? Why not boats?” “That’s the best part,” Veng replied. “The island’s location is a secret, so… you’re going to sleep on the way there.” “I can’t sleep in a coffin!” Victoria gasped. “I’m… I’m claustrophobic!” “Oh, yes you can,” Veng smiled. “In fact… I bet you’re feeling tired already. Perhaps you wondered what ingredients we had you harvesting on the Farm? Well, one of the products of your work was sleeping potion.” “Sleeping potion…” Victoria wheezed. “Yes. You’ might notice you’re feeling… oh. She’s asleep already.” “Sleeping potion…” I felt my tongue slurring the words. “When did… we…?” “Simple. All I did was wash your mugs with the stuff. You’ll sleep the whole journey and be on the island before you know it.” “Good riddance,” growled Lesh. Veng slowly turned towards her partner and grinned. “Oh, you thought,” she said. “Excuse you?” Lesh stared back at her. “You think I wouldn’t notice the Brennar’s Bark gone missing? I’m the deputy quartermaster! I count shit twice a day!” “You fucking… I didn’t…” Lesh tried to stand and stumbled. “Come on, Lesh. I know how the bark works. I don’t know why you’d do this to yourself, but you’re already starting to show.” “Show… what…?” “And it would be a real scandal if a sword-sworn starts growing like some dumb cow… or should I say, starter? That’s why I washed your mug in sleeping potion too. That’s right! You’re going to the island!” “Fuck… you…” With those final, parting words, Lesh fell face-first into the table. Veng rose to her feet and lay her hand on her comrade’s shoulder. “Goodbye, Lesh. Thanks for the promotion,” Veng turned her gaze to me, though I could barely tell as my vision began to blur. “You’re a big girl, Zaiva. That’s why you’re the last to fall asleep. But you’re a big girl in more ways than one. Where you’re going… well, take care of your friend over there – and keep a close eye on my friend as well. Aight?” Veng said something else after that, but my head grew heavy and my eyes closed. My last thought before succumbing to slumber was how uncomfortable the fork was between the tabletop and my chin.

Chapter Thirty-Seven When the four of us entered the weighing room, I was ready to fall into routine. I was taller than Victoria, which meant I’d be loading the coloured balls onto the left end of the scale as she sat patiently on the right, but even as I got into position, Veng stopped me with an outstretched hand. “No need to burn through your energy, fat one,” she told me with a wink. “you’ll need it where you’re going.” Veng proceeded to load balls into the scale one by one, leaving me nothing to do but lean back against the wall and watch. Lesh happened to be doing the same, and I couldn’t help but notice she had her arms folded over her chest. “The fuck you looking at, boot?” she snapped at me. “Oh nothing… did you walk through the shower this morning? Your chest looks a little damp.” The not-so-subtle jab silenced her, but her partner didn’t seem to notice. “Funny you mentioned the Shower, ‘cause you’re going there soon, so you can standby for that… not literally, Victoria. You just keep sitting on that scale and act heavy. Jest a bit more… well, look at you! One hundred fifty-one pounds! That’s a twenty-four pound gain since you got here. See? I told you a big future’s ahead of you.” “Oh…” Victoria blushed and even cracked a smile. “I shall do my best.” “You next, Zaiva. On the scale; let’s go. You’re a big girl, so this ‘bout to be good.” I stiffened, slightly undignified. “I’m not that big,” yet, I added mentally. “You’re tall is what you are. Are we sure there’s only one half-giantess in this starter batch? Either way, the taller you are, the harder it is for the pounds to show – and lemme tell you, your thighs are looking plump. Aight, you settled on the scale? Kill-bodies…” “Are…” Victoria fretted. “Are we expected to kill bodies? Like, food?” “No, crazy!” Veng looked amused. “It’s just words. Hold still, Zaiva, I’m weighing you.” Veng said they were “just words,” and I was familiar with sword-sworn slang, but there was something else she’d said that had stuck with me: “plump.” Were my thighs truly plump? I stared down at my lap as the scale slowly lifted me into the air. They didn’t look plump to me, but days of large meals had made them thick. They had room to squish and bulge now that my pigskin had bared their upper halves, and sitting down had made them seem even wider. They lay plush together as I sat on the scale, two smooth, purple loaves of bread that bulged widest and highest about two-thirds of the way towards my hips from my knees. I ran a hand over that bulge, feeling-out my newfound width. This shape was curious to me. Victoria was an hourglass like myself, but wasn’t she slightly different? A quick glance in her direction confirmed my suspicion. Victoria’s thighs were thick, but they didn’t bulge as prominently as mine did. In fact, her lower curve crested further-up her body – at her hips where the pelvic lobes sat. the fact that her pelvis was just underneath changed the way her curve was developing, leaving a little dip on her hip… “Twenty-two pounds,” Veng’s voice cut my pointless musings short. “That puts you over two hundred pounds.” “Two…” my heart was pounding. “Two-hundred pounds?” “I told you, you’re a big girl – but you’re not a fat girl yet. You got a big frame to pack all those pounds on. That just means you got to eat more than the others. You think you can do that?” “I… I eat as much as I can already…” “Trust me, where you two are going is going to make this place feel like –” “Enough,” Lesh snapped. “We don’t talk about the next stage. Now, if we’re done, I’m off…” “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Veng smiled. Lesh stared at her. “You don’t expect me to eat the farewell feast, do you? I told you I’m not hungry.” “No… but the other sword-sworn will. ‘Lead by example’ – or some shit.” Lesh opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by her own stomach betraying her with a low, ominous rumble. “Come on, girls,” Vesh took me and Victoria by the arms. “You’re officially stuffers now. We’re going to the sword-sworn’s chow hall to feed you some real food.”

And now you get to catch-up all over again

Chapter Thirty-Six “Wake up! Get up right now!” I heard the words, but I wasn’t awake. My body was still paralyzed by sleep. Only the discomfort of my bare thighs against the dirt floor roused me to a state fit to struggle to my feet, but I grumbled all the while. Dirt had found its way under my pigskin where it hugged around the middle of my thighs, and it felt nigh impossible to pick each gritty crumb back out. The sight of the Kilted Orc named Lesh-Gotha entering the Pen jolted me to attention. She was storming into our midst just as she always did, her kilt swishing with every heavy step of her muscled legs, and her fists were tightly-clenched and ready to swing, but such details were unimportant to me. All I cared about was her chest. Those two subtle mounds tucked away beneath her leather uniform were like dormant volcanoes, poised to erupt and burst free with a splash of milk hot as lava. There was no sign of any changes now, but it hadn’t even been a full night since she ingested the cursed bark. Lesh’s narrow gaze sliced through the crowd like a sword, but she paused briefly when her eyes met mine. I stared back, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of my lip. Would she hold the stare, or would she turn away? I opted for a better option: I turned my gaze down toward her breasts, looking for any signs of change,. Could it be that her nipples were already beginning to moisten? It was impossible to tell. Regardless, she turned away with a sneer and pretended nothing was amiss. The moment was over in a heartbeat. Lesh was standing over Victoria now, who looked cluelessly upwards with a proud smile on her face. That smile faded when she realized there was no hint of compassion or appreciation in the orc’s cruel face. “Write them up, scribe,” she growled. “Starter Vicky: Breasts and hips. Type: Hourglass – and…” she turned to me again. “Starter Deep Purple: Breasts and thighs. Type: Hourglass.” There was a dead silence in the room. Gone was the excitement from last night, replaced with a tense, stiff atmosphere. No one besides myself knew why Lesh was so dangerously livid, but they could see clearly that it would be wise to hold their tongues. Even I felt a chill down my spine as she stood before me, staring directly into my eyes. “You know what happens next,” she told me. “Standby outside the door and wait for an escort to the weighing room.” She was so close, I could feel her breath on my newly-bared chest, but that made me realize something I’d never consciously pondered before: she was shorter than me. All this time, I’d either been far away or sitting, but now – standing fae to face – I was towering over her. It shouldn’t have been so surprising being 6’8,” yet here I was, looming over her – and with that, our roles reversed. Now I was in control. Now I obeyed her instructions not because I feared punishment, but for my own pleasure. I wanted to be around Lesh as long as I could. I wanted to see her suffer. I stood solemnly outside the Pen with only Victoria for company. The other starters had been herded into the weighing room first, as I should’ve known they would. We had always been weighed first thing in the morning, so why would two burstings disrupt that? And so, here we were, standing in silence, saying nothing. The courtyard spread across my field of vision. I remembered vividly that first chaotic night when we’d been forced to strip our old clothes and abandon them in the dirt there, never to be seen or worn again. It felt like ages ago. Would I still fit in them if I tried? The thought made me chuckle. Who cared if I didn’t fit back into those old rags? “What’s so funny?” asked Victoria. I chuckled again. “Just picturing you in your red robe you came here in.” “Oh,” she shifted awkwardly on her feet. “It was my best outfit. If I’d known they’d take it away from me, I’d…” she took a long, deep breath and lay a hand low over her navel. “I thought they wanted me to gain weight. Why is everyone so mean to me?” I finally looked in her direction nd found she’d turned her back to me. She was fidgeting with the yellow fabric around her thighs with her head hung in shame. The sight of how wide her newly-freed hips were shocked me for a moment, but my surprise quickly faded into thoughtful musings. Perhaps I’d been too harsh on her? But what was I even thinking? She’d been humping me while I was trying to sleep! Still… I was stuck with her for the indefinite future. I should console her for my own good… I reached for her arm… only to be interrupted by the starters being herded back outside. I hastily withdrew my hand before anyone noticed. The moment was over. “Stop looking around!” one of the orcs snapped. “They’re not with you anymore! Nobody cares!” Several starters that were looking toward us quickly looked away before they got in trouble. Cinder was the last to turn away, being slow as usual. It struck me, then, that this would be the last time I saw them all, for some wouldn’t burst fast enough and be expelled. Would I ever see Cinder again? Seerah? Gnobbo? Such thoughts ended abruptly as Lesh broke away from the group, a second orc at her side. She was as sour as ever, but there was something different about her companion. There was a glimmer in her green eyes, almost mischievous, like a cat about to toy with its food. “I’m surprised you came, Lesh,” the orc spoke casually as she approached us. “I thought you hated sending stuffers off? So you said you’re not hungry, right? Didn’t want to go to the chow hall?” “Yes, Veng. I just said that.” “Well, that’s too bad, cause it looks like this girl’s brought the whole bakery.” Lesh and Veng were standing before us now, the latter smiling as she looked into Victoria’s eyes. “Uh…” Victoria blushed as she cringed from the attention, no doubt fearing the worst. “Me? Bakery?” “Ourah, stuffer,” Veng uttered the sword-sworn battlecry casually as a form of greeting. “What’s your name, belly-girl?” “My name?” Victoria was so nervous, her legs were shaking. “My name is Victoria.” “Tight. And what’s yours, purple one?” “Zaiva,” I replied cautiously. Lesh took a step forward to get between us. “Bet you two think you’ve made it, huh? Don’t expect to get buddy-buddy with me. Veng: let’s get them weighed already.” “Don’t worry ‘bout her,” Veng eased herself next to Victoria and gently held her upper-arm. “She won’t touch you, but as for me…well, what’s this? Got some squish on your arms? You got a big future ahead. Now let’s get you two on the scale – one last time.”

This was an excellent world-building chapter. I was curious why the first zombie-cop we saw in chapter one was so docile. Also, this is still the most British Pennsylvanian story I’ve ever read 😏 “Royal Worcester” indeed. I was driving through Pennsylvania last weekend to visit some FA friends and was thinking of this story the entire drive. And I have to say your prose flows so effortlessly. American prose is very choppy with each sentence abrubtly ending and beginning like bite of potato chips. Your sentences flow like a long Slim Jim.

Chapter Thirty-Five Perhaps I shouldn’t have agreed to join Victoria for sleep. While we had been sleeping together for days – along with Cinder, Gnobbo and Aniya – Victoria had ulterior motives tonight, and those motives were revealed as I lay on the cusp of finally falling asleep. “Zaiva…” I felt her nose nudge against my cheek as she whispered into my ear. “Are you awake?” It was a good question. The night’s adventures had left me weary and barely able to respond to her. It was so tempting to ignore her, to fully embrace the warmth of her body coiled against mine as the two of us sank into the soft inner-thigh of Cinder the half giantess, but my own body betrayed me with a long, slow breath that all beings do when waking. I felt her thigh stiffen between my own in anticipation of a reply. Surely she knew I was listening now. I’d have to placate her before I could sleep in peace. “Yes,” I whispered back. “Good,” she replied, her body flexing restlessly against mine. “The others are sleeping. Now you can tell me the secret.” “Secret?” “Yes. The secret to bursting, of course.” “Oh, that…” I sighed and felt my chest rise and press against hers. “It’s not a secret. You have to want it. That’s all.” “But I do want it,” she insisted. “So why haven’t I burst?” “Because you don’t truly want it.” “Zaiva,” Victoria hugged me tight. “Why won’t you tell me? I know we didn’t meet as friends… I guess I may have come across as a little rude as well… but I’ve been your friend ever since, right?” “You have?” I asked, bemused by her attempt to manipulate me. “Yes. Everyone hated you when we first started, calling you ‘Deep Purple’ and talking behind your back, but I always called you Zaiva – didn’t I, Zaiva?” “Perhaps… yes, you did do that, didn’t you?” “So you can tell me the secret so we can go together – please?” “I told you everything I know.” “But there must be something else to it. Some trick or stray thought…?” Her pestering was getting bothersome. I would gladly show her how to burst if I could, but in spite of my advice, she was still snug in her pigskin. Perhaps this was why the orcs hadn’t bothered to tell us either. It seemed wanting to outgrow the pigskin with all your being was something you had to discover for yourself. How had I done it? I remembered staring at my curves in the mirror, exploring their growth, thinking of… “When Aniya burst,” I said thoughtfully. “She told me to think of her…” “What are you talking about? That doesn’t make any sense.” “It didn’t make sense to me either, but it does now. It’s the key to everything.” “How?” “Vicky, do you love me?” “Um… I look up to you. I value your opinion.” “Good…” I lay my hand on her belly. “W-what are you doing?” “I like your belly,” I gave it a rub. “Got a nice little bulge to it. I can’t wait to see how big it can get… do you like it when I rub you like this?” She didn’t answer, but her chest was trembling. I felt her abs relax beneath my palm, releasing their hold on her middle. It was just like my experience just before bursting, and yet… nothing. Victoria hadn’t burst. “Oh well,” I patted her stomach. “You’ll grow into it. We should sleep.” “But –” “I’m tired. Try to think about what I said. Focus on my hand while you do; I’ll be holding you all night.” With that, we settled into one another and closed our eyes, ready for sleep at long last… …Only for me to be roused from sleep once again. Something had popped in my sleep so loudly, it made Victoria buck in my arms. “Hrmm! Mm!” she mumbled nonsense as she woke from a dream. “Gourd…” “What?” I groaned. She squirmed and twisted in my arms like a snake before stiffening suddenly. “Oh. Oh! Wake up, Zaiva! It’s happening! Everyone! Everyone wake up and look at me!” “Oh god’s damnit all…” Victoria was too lost in the moment to care about what I had to say. So ecstatically enthralled wwas the girl, she was arching her back and thrusting herself against my body. My attempts to free myself failed, for her hands gripped my wrists like pincers, and her eyes rolled in their sockets like she were receiving a dark vision from Vul himself. “Hhuuhhghr…” her voice was low and guttural, an expression of pure, bestial pleasure. If that weren’t enough, Cinder shifted away from under me and my head slammed into the ground. “She’s doing it!” someone said with awe. “That girl’s actually doing it!” “Victowria’s buwrsting!” Cinder clapped her mighty hands together with joy. “Go Vicky!” Seerah cheered. “Yes! You got this!” The girls gathered round, nearly stepping on my face in their excitement. Their cheers and claps were as deafening as they were annoying, but there was nothing I could do with Victoria mounted atop my waist, humping mindlessly. “Look!” Seerah was hopping as she pointed at Victoria. “Her pigskin! It’s turning yellow!” “She’s wike Deep Puwrpul!” said Cinder. Gnobbo said nothing, but cackled manically at my expense, no doubt revelling in the fact that I’d gotten physically stuck twice in a single night. All this and more had turned what I’d hoped would be a brief yet peaceful slumber into a sleepless nightmare. The whole Pen was now echoing with cheers, each cry an affront to my weary ears – yet to Victoria, they were invigorating. For the first time since entering the Starter Resort, she had earned the praise and adoration she so desperately yearned for. I saw now that her mindless humping was not, in fact, mindless. She was revelling in her brief bout of attention, making a show of her transformation in front of everyone – on my body! “Hah!” she spread her arms wide and groaned as her pigskin split and revealed deep cleavage. “Hahh! Oh, it feels so good!” “Good job, Victoria!” Seerah clapped. “We’re so proud of you!” “I think it’s done now…” Victoria paused thoughtfully and inspected herself. “Looks like I turned into the same shape as you, Zaiva.” “Oh, so you finally noticed me?” I snapped. Victoria didn’t, in fact, notice me. “I got this window for my chest and… and my thighs are out too! Oh, I feel so much better now that I can move again.” “Then you can move off of me.” She stared blankly at me “Huh?” “I said off! All of you, back! Is it too much to ask to get a good night’s sleep?” Victoria was visibly shaken by my outburst. Her shoulders slackened and her eyes sparkled with fat tears, all excitement gone from her. “But you.. I thought…” “Get off of me right now!” She dismounted me in an instant, turning her back on me and running into Cinder’s embrace. “Just go back to sleep…” I groaned. One by one, the girls eased back onto the ground and returned to rest, although there remained some small group around Victoria whispering away and patting her on the back while she buried her face into Cinder’s bosom. Some part of me felt there was something significant about all this – some mood in the room I couldn’t quite sense – but I was too tired to dwell on that. Sleep was all I cared about, so I curled into myself and immediately drifted asleep – alone.

You are the most talented stuffer I know. Like, I never thought it was possible to go from nearly flat to third-trimester size in a single day, but you do it every time. Thank you so much for this one.

After we hear Gnobbo fall off the roof, we hear the orcs give up the search because they mistake her for a pureblooded gnome pest, which are endemic to the region (it is the Valley of the Gnomes, apparently). Gnobbo got back in the Pen. How? It’s a mystery.

Chapter Thirty-Four At last, I returned to the Pen’s roof and stifled a yawn. It had been a long, productive night and all I could think of was laying down and getting whatever precious time sleep I could. Yet it seemed I wasn’t the only one so inclined, for as I peered down into the Pen from the roof, I found Cinder had fallen asleep! “Cinder…” I grumbled to myself. “How do I get inside now?” The half-giantess had curled her body halfway around the fire, her pale, white skin flickering orange in the warm firelight. It was useless to try waking her now. I had only one choice remaining to me: it was time for me to jump. The fall wouldn’t be an issue; I’d trained for years how to leap long distances without breaking any limbs. No, it was the sound of my landing that gave me pause. How many would stir at the sound of it? Was there a chance I could stick the landing silently? It was useless to speculate. I would have to leap before I looked, as the old saying goes. And so, with a light jump, I landed in the white ash next to the fire – the softest place I could land. The ash muffled my landing, but plumbed into a dusty cloud that mushroomed to the ceiling. I couldn’t help myself from wretching as the ash swirled around me like a genie released from a bottle. It wasn’t long before the whole room was gagging. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear their cries. “Gods…” Seerah’s voice wheezed. “What happened?” “I can’t see!” said another. “It’s ** us!” Victoria’s voice cried-out. “Who’s turn was it? Who was on firewatch?” “Ah’m sowry…” Cinder stifled a cough. Victoria struggled to even breathe before answering. “You dumb oaf!” she interrupted herself with a sneeze. “What did you do?” “Uh…” “Did you try to blow into – achoo – into the fire?” “I sowrt of fewll into slumber…” “Ugh, it’s everywhere!” I heard all this wretching, hacking, and more, yet only now did I begin to glimpse the outlines of the other starters rolling around the floor. The ash was finally beginning to settle. “Ohh, it’s all in my hair!” Victoria whined. “And this is all so ridiculous – utterly ridiculous! And it’s all because some giant oaf rolled her giant ass into the –” “Wait, Vicky,” Seerah’s outline peered through the smoke into my direction. “Who’s that?” “What?” Victoria pried ashy strands from her face to look. “That woman there… hello! Who’s standing by the fire?” “I don’t see what’s so important…” “Look! Look at her outfit! It’s all yellow! And… and… it’s Zaiva! Oh, look everyone, look! Zaiva’s bursted! She burst!” My ashen cover blown, I had no choice but to step forward with all the pride I could muster and own the situation I’d literally fallen into. “It is I,” I set my hands upon my half-exposed hips. “And yes: the ash was my fault. I…” “Ohh, so you burst in your sleep!” Seerah clapped her hands with delight. “I’m so proud of you! Your thighs must have exploded out of your pigskin and churned all that ash into the air. That makes sense!” “I…” I was awestruck at my luck. “Uh… yes. That’s exactly what happened.” Now the whole Pen was abuzz with excitement. Girls gathered round me, grabbing and pawing at my new garb like I were some legendary hero returned to life. “She’s different from the others,” said one groping admirer. “Yes,” said another as she touched every bit of bare skin she could reach. “The chest has parted like the first girl, but her thighs… the thighs are new…” “And it’s yellow,” said yet another. “Her pigskin turned yellow!” I stood in their midst and let them prod and pet me, unsure how to act. I’d been so sure I’d been caught escaping, yet it seemed the cover of the ashy plume had saved me. Only Cinder knew where I’d been, and it seemed she was too awestruck with my new outfit to care – as was everyone. There were, however, two girls unfazed by my transformation. One of them was Victoria, who gawked at me with her arms folded in disbelief. “How?” she asked me. “Why? Why you and not me?” I stared back at her, basking in attention, and smiled. “Do you truly want to know?” “Yes,” she replied. “Do you truly wish to know the secret?” “Please! Just tell me already!” I paused, revelling in my power over her. Dare I tell her anything? Even I was still unsure quite how it happened. I noticed now that everyone had fallen quiet, waiting for my reply. “It’s easy,” I shrugged. “It’s not gaining weight that counts. You have to want it.” “That’s it?” Victoria blinked and glanced left and right as if she could find a better answer. “But… I do want to gain weight – I need to. I want to get in the Harem!” I shrugged again. “Are you so sure? Maybe you’re fooling yourself.” “I’m not! I will burst – I swear it! Just tell me how you did it already!” “You just don’t get it.” “Rrgh! You are just…” she stomped her foot. “Ooh!” Before more drama ensued, Seerah stepped between us. “Let’s get to bed. Every problem’s easier to solve when you sleep on it.” “Let’s,” Victoria unfolded her arms and tugged at Cinder’s arm. “Come on, oaf. Let’s get to bed. Come on, Zaiva! You’re sleeping with us.” I couldn’t argue with that, but as I slipped through the dispersing crowd, my eyes caught sight of the other person not in awe of me. There: behind the crowd of gawkers, was Gnobbo. She stared blankly onwards at me, stiff and unmoving, until – with a twitching eye and quivering fingertip – she pointed at me with all the menace her cat-sized body could muster. Before the sea of bodies closed between us, I grinned and smooched the air in her direction.

Chapter Thirty-Three The kilted-orc stared me down, a strange look crossing her face that I couldn’t discern in the darkness. The glint of white around her pupils was reminiscent of a nocturnal beast cornering its prey. I stared back, a dozen escape plans and fighting techniques racing through my mind and utterly extinguished by that indiscernible look in her eyes. I was finished. Even if I escaped – even if I beat her into submission – I was finished! I was wholly at her mercy, my fate decided by whatever words she spoke next! “Turn around.” Her words were cold and felt like knives under my skin. I’d been looking at her through the mirror’s reflection, but now I slowly turned around till I was facing. I may only have only torn through my pigskin to reveal cleavage and upper thighs, but with the way her eyes traced down my whole body, I felt fully naked. The kilted-orc prowled her way towards me, every step a heavy thud against the tiled floor. She was circling me now, positioning herself behind me, but I dared not move. My body was tingling and as I stared down towards my freshly-exposed breasts, I found their tops riddled with goosebumps. I was petrified, waiting for a blow that could strike at any time. “Move.” Move? What did this sword-sworn veteran want with me? I couldn’t do anything except obey. Heart racing, I slowly stepped forward. “Out the door.” I followed her order and stepped outside into the cold night air. “Walk.” Onwards I went, acutely aware that no other orcs were in sight. Only the sound of the kilted-orc’s booted footsteps disturbed the silence. We were at the edge of the courtyard now, approaching a path that trailed deeper into the Starter Resort and up the mountainside. “Left.” Now we were on that winding, uphill path, surrounded on both sides by square, sandstone living quarters. The path turned to stairs as it progressed, and I stumbled more than once as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Faintly-flickering, rectangular orange glows betrayed the outlines of shuttered windows – the only sign of movement. Onwards I climbed, the stairway steepening as the structures began to stack upon one another. At last, the stairs ended, for we’d reached the face of the mountain – but the path continued. A rope ladder hung from a small structure carved into the mountain – the highest in the resort. “Get up.” I began to climb. Rope ladders were always difficult, and I found myself swinging as I worked towards the open hatch. To my surprise, I felt the ropes stiffen and stretch taut as the kilted orc climbed after me. She was clearly not giving me any chance to escape. If only I knew how! But every scenario I could think of ended ill for me. It was enough to make anyone panic. But not I. I was Zaiva, an esteemed, near-legendary assassin more capable than five sword-sworn orcs combined. I’d slain mermaids while drowning, climbed the highest walls, and even ridden a flying wyrm by the hilt of my blade wedged deep into its chest. This fear in my soul was an expected foe I knew how to deal with. My moment of opportunity would come, and when it did, I would channel this fear into my fists. Yes, my moment was coming…. It had to… But for now… I went through the hatch and into what looked like a bedroom. I looked about and searched silently for anything I could use against my captor. What I found was a simple dwelling with sparce furniture. War trophies and memorabilia were scattered all over, from a rack of foreign coin on the dresser to a hollowed skull on a small desk carved into a mug. A mount display of a full set of orcish armour in the corner gave me hope of finding a matching weapon, but alas, there were none. So focused I was on escaping, I didn’t notice the kilted-orc entering the room behind me and locking the hatch until it was too late. Now I was truly trapped, locked in a high perch with no way out. “Get in the bed.” I stiffened. Her voice was different than before – less guttural and smoother akin to a conversational tone. Yet somehow, she had never sounded so dangerous. To have a vicious sword-sworn that had shown no signs of humanity suddenly speak so quietly defied the order of the world itself. It was terrifying. “Bed. Now.” The subtle barb in her tone goaded me back into action. I approached the bed and suddenly realized the ramifications of her command. Was I to lie upon the sheets or slip under the covers? I opted to sit on the side and face her directly. There was something very wrong with all this. She turned sideways to light more torches in the room with the one that had been burning by itself. Her keen eyes shot cautiously toward me all the while, that strange, hungry look glinting within them. As the flames flickered, shadows contorted and shook across the room. “So we’ve got a drow here,” she said as she mounted the torch back in its slot. “Been a while since I’ve seen one… what’s your name, dirt elf?” “Zaiva,” I swallowed as I found my mouth dry. “No last name.” Slowly, the kilted-orc turned to face me, grinning ghoulishly and revealing a jagged double-row of cragged teeth. “Zaiva…” she approached, towering over me. “That’s a drow name alright. I heard your kind name their firstborn after themselves.” “Perhaps.” “Don’t lie to me. I know… and it happens your name is familiar to me.” I didn’t answer. The glint in the orc’s eyes wass burning now, dangerously hot like the sun itself. I feared she would strike me, but like a sunset, she turned slowly away, walking towards the set of armour. “I am a sword-sworn,” she said thoughtfully. “Servant of Sultan Ibrahim and chained by honour. With unfaltering courage, I have committed to putting my sultan’s enemies to the sword for fifteen long years. I’ve razed, raided, and enslaved countless races and peoples. Elves, dwarves, halflings, other orcs, humans… but only once have I fought drow.” She lifted the helm off the mounted display and stared into its eye sockets. It was a grizzly mask of a helm, a crude patchwork of leather with two straps hanging low on either side of a bare muzzle per orcish tradition. Also per tradition were multiple ropes of hair coiling back from its top – the hair of shaven enemies. “It was ten years ago,” she inspected a rope of white hair like my own. “We were raiding a magma chamber and followed it to a vast volcanic lair – the lair of a drow duchess named Zaiva. The screams as we torched it all… oh, what a glorious night… you remember it too, don’t you?” “No…” She sprung upon me in an instant. Suddenly, I was shoved back against the bed with her mounting my waist. With one hand, she held my throat and with the other one held the orcish helm by that silvery rope of hair. “Do you recognize your father’s hair!?” “No! No!” “The hair I scalped from his head? Do you remember your mother screaming as we beat her to her knees as you stared at me from your pathetic hiding space in the porous rockface before fleeing in terror?” “No! No, I can’t! I can’t!” She suddenly released my throat and lay the helm upon her head, yanking it by the long flaps till her eyes and teeth were all I could see. “And do you remember this face? Do you? Look at it! Remember looking back for a last glimpse of your old life only to see me staring back? It was I who enslaved your parents, Zaiva! I, Lesh-gotha, of the Grizzly Clan, Gunnery Sergeant in Wolf Unit Epsilon, took your parents and possessions – and now I have you. Your body is mine – mine!” The kilted-orc named Lesh-gotha reached down to her belt and retrieved a stick of what appeared to be cinnamon, but was a pale yellow colour. “You see this?” she held it in front of my face and my nose caught a whiff of some sickly-sweet odour. “This is Brennar’s Bark – the active ingredient for Milking Potion. It’s diluted in gallons of fluid before being used on cattle. Just this strip is enough to turn a soft drow like you into a pair of leaking milk-sacks.” Lesh ran her free hand across my shoulder and groped greedily at my freshly-exposed cleavage. “Now you’re to eat this bark and your breasts will swell sorely. It will take time for them to grow, for they will need to be properly watered and fed. That purple juice you saw in the kitchen will take care of that. And then? Then you’ll grow into a pair of tits so huge you could never run even if you wanted to, and then you will truly be mine – my own personal drow-cow – and you’ll never see the sun again – much less the Harem. What say you?” I said nothing, for I was too focused on snaking my leg around hers. Too late, she sensed trap I’d lured her into with my feigned frightfulness, and with a buck of my hips and twist of my body, I was suddenly atop her, our roles completely reversed. “Off!” she snarled. “Get off – no!” But she was powerless to stop me – me, not a helpless beggar as she’d thought, but a trained assassin. Too late, the huntress realized she’d been hunted. Now my fingers made quick work around her own, prying the Brennar’s Bark from her grasp and shoving it down her snarling throat – fist and all. “Swallow it, boot,” I used the slur used by commanders of the sword-sworn for the first time. “I’m not taking my fist out till I feel you do.” Recognition flashed in her eyes, and with it, primal hatred of the masters who had enslaved her kind so long ago. She resisted, but the bark was crumbling away, dissolving into her saliva. As she squirmed and gnashed her tusks around my hand, I leaned close, eyes inches from hers. “My mother used to beat me as you’d beaten her,” I said in a low, level tone. “And my father did worse – when he was home. Yes… I remember that night well – the first night of my freedom; the first night I tasted blood; the night I killed two orcs in their sleep and discovered I was good at it. Yes… you remember their deaths too. I can see it in your eyes.” Lesh bit hard upon my hand to the point of drawing blood, yet still I showed no mercy. The bark was near-completely dissolved, and its effects were starting to show as her nipples pricked and hardened against her clothes. “You sword-sworn are all the same,” I mocked her. “All talk and attitude. It’s been near thirty-two years since you won a real war and that was with the help of the army. Glorified raiders the lot of you.” Lesh growled, but it came as a faint gurgle. Sweat beaded on her forehead and the tips of her nipples began moistening with milk. The bark’s effects were truly quick. “You can be louder than that,” I taunted. “But you can’t… can you? What would happen if you were seen fraternizing with a starter like my, hm? And this bark… surely such a rare, potent ingredient must be worth a fortune you can’t afford – unless it was stolen.” Tsking, I lay a hand over her moistened breast and gave it a squeeze. “Now these are primed to grow nicely. You’ll no doubt find your appetite will increase as your lean, muscled body becomes a milking heifer, and with every bite your breasts will swell ever larger, fatter, and milkier. Dare you try to hide it or stop it? Who knows when it will stop, but whatever happens, you could always run away…” When I removed my hand, Lesh was seething yet silent. She knew I was in control now. “Now you listen here, boot,” I dismounted her and made my way to the hatch. “I’d toyed with escaping this hell resort of yours, but as you can tell, I burst my pigskin. I have a better plan: I’m heading back to my Pen and getting some sleep. Tomorrow, you’ll do your thing and take me away to wherever stuffers go – and if you so much as breathe wrong, I’ll tell everyone what you did tonight.” With that, I slipped down the hatch and left the kilted orc named Lesh-gotha to ponder her imminent fate.

Well see... the orcs don't need to catch Zaiva on the roof for her to be finished. If they can so much as get a clear view of her and find out who she is, there's nowhere she can go at that point because she can't find a way out of the Starter Resort. Besides that, the resort's layout is rather beautiful in my imagination and I'm tempted to draw it for everyone to look at.

Chapter Thirty-Two A mirror… when was the last time I’d seen my own reflection? I was suddenly aware of the fact I hadn’t seen myself since I left the Scorpion Order’s fortress. The mirror lured me in like a moth in the moonlight. It was a full-length mirror, reflecting my profile in full detail. What was this doing in the kitchen? I pondered the question as I positioned myself before its reflection. The tub of purple juice left an obvious clue: the orcs had placed the mirror before Jessicuh as they squeezed her rounded body dry to mock her – to rob her of what pride and dignity she might still have till she was nothing more than a shell of her former self. But what of my reflection? I stared into its eyes and thoughtfully turned my head from side to side. Who was this drow woman staring back at me? She wasn’t quite the toned assassin I remembered. For one, her silvery hair poured from her head down her shoulders like a white, frothing waterfall rather than streaming smartly through a ponytail down the back. Instead of tight assassin garb, she was wearing an even tighter pigskin that left nothing to the imagination – especially the other subtle changes… Curiously, I turned to the side to inspect my profile. Not bad… if I sucked-in a little, I could probably return to the fortress without anyone noticing the extra weight I’d gained. But then again… perhaps not. I’d not realized how wide my hips had grown. More than a couple inches had them straining against the fabric containing them, and I could see now that they swayed more than they had before. Supporting them were two thick thighs that touched one another at the top and brushed lightly together with each step. As for my ass? A casual twist of my waist revealed its new shape to my judging gaze. Each cheek had rounded-out with extra padding deep enough to sink half my thumb into. The cheeks still stung smartly from Gnobbo’s whipping, and I could feel them throbbing with blood to the rhythm of my beating heart. “Ugh…” I sighed angrily at the sight of the fold formed at my side from twisting myself. “Who could possibly be into this? All this useless flab…” A stray thought gave me pause. There was one soul in this world I’d met who might possibly be into this body of mine: nonother than the small dark elf, Aniya. Aniya… it hadn’t even been a day since she’d left, but it felt like an age. I hadn’t realized how much a part of my life she’d become. The way she smiled at me when she knew only I was looking, how she embraced me every night and fondled every part of me, it was all so much like a blushing virgin learning her lover’s body for the first time. She truly was a master of deceit. I cradled my soft, melon-sized breasts as I stared at them in the mirror, giving them a light, tender squeeze. Aniya had held them like this, often whispering words even I couldn’t hear. What were her parting words? To think of her? what had she meant by that? I suspected it was a clue for how to burst out of this damned pigskin… but how? How? With the answers evading me, I let my hands drift down my body, gently brushing my sides till the fingers reached the soft, pliable flesh that creased at my sides if I twisted too hard. Aniya had touched me like this – just like this. She’d squeeze my skin, feeling for the indent that was growing into a fold, then her hands would sweep back – far, far back – and find the folds under my softened ass cheeks. She’d run her fingers through them, sometimes lifting one cheek to feel it fall and jiggle against her palm. And then? Then she’d rest a hand over my soft belly and drift into sleep. I paused thoughtfully. My hand was on my belly just as hers had been not so long ago. It wasn’t fat – not like my hips and breasts were – but there was certainly some softness resting against my palm. I suddenly remembered I was clenching my stomach and released it, letting it bulge slightly more. It had always been strangely comforting when Aniya held me like this, almost as if she were giving me permission to loosen-up, to let go and be softer around her. I sighed and felt my stomach rise and fall against my hand. What would Aniya do if she were still here, sleeping by my side? How much softer would my midsection get by the time I saw her again? So long as she were here… it would be alright… Rip. My breath froze and my heart dropped. My hand instantly dropped to the crest of my left hip and felt bare skin pushing past fraying fabric. “Gods…” I gasped. Riip. All at once, the pigskin began to shift, squeeze and tear across every inch of my body. It was starting. “Ooh…” I groaned at my reflection in the mirror. “Ohh… oh, it’s happening. I’m… I’m…” My words were cut short with a long, resounding rip down my chest. It was fortunate none were witnessing me, for I was losing all semblance of sanity beneath an unstoppable wave of ecstasy. As I gasped at myself, I hunched low and felt my breasts rise from their confines like ripe plums. The pigskin had a mind of its own as it squeezed the breasts together and boosted them upwards. Moaning, I twisted my hips left and right till the seams containing them ripped wide and let them breathe – I was free! The pigskin shifted and reformed itself around my liberated curves. Round, plush upper-thighs were exposed and heaving breasts were set on display as the cloth changed colour from a dull brown to yellow – not gold like the lustrous, malleable metal, but a radiant, dangerous yellow like the venomous wasp. Utterly awestruck, I leaned closer to my reflection and lay a hand against the glass. I almost couldn’t believe it was me. “Vul take me,” I shuddered with excitement. “I… I’m…” “Mine.” Eyes wide, I finally noticed the silhouette behind my reflection – there, past my shoulder and within the doorframe of the kitchen’s entrance was an orc woman with a jagged tusk wearing a kilt.

Chapter Thirty-One The orcs had awakened. My slip on the terracotta roof had echoed loudly in the still night, and now I was running for my very survival. The memory of Jessicuh’s swollen fate was still vivid in my mind. Was she still in the kitchen, trapped by her own spherical girth and juiced like an overly-ripe fruit? I wouldn’t linger to find out! The roof turned a corner and as I ran across it I took advantage of the cover the roof’s crest provided by running on the far end to mask my moonlit silhouette. I could see now how the torches wove angrily towards me like fireflies and couldn’t help but smile. Amateurs. Running with torches only meant I knew exactly where they were: two approaching from the near end of the central courtyard, three from the far end, and one barrelling straight down the middle. There was, however, one more I had to worry about, and she reminded me of her presence in the most annoyingly inconvenient way possible: she threw a clay tile at me. “Ah!” I hissed at the near miss. “Bitch!” I knew it was Gnobbo, for I could hear her skittering away in the darkness, never to be discovered. Unfortunately, the noise of the tile had the orcs hounding after me again. “Run!” the Kilted-Orc’s voice sounded from the central courtyard. “Keep running! Make us enjoy it!” And then I realized with a chill that the Kilted-Orc hadn’t been speaking to her orcs – she’d been speaking to me. I was out of time! I needed to find a way to shake them off my scent. Dare I dive back into the Pen? I dismissed the notion instantly. I’d wake every Starter the moment I did so, and once the orcs opened the Pen, it would be all over. No, I needed to use my wits and skills for once. I would find a hiding spot and lie in wait till things calmed down before resuming my night of espionage – but where? A passing thought crossed my mind and I smiled as it became a plan. The kitchen was a place I remembered vividly. Filled with cupboards and sacks of feed, there wasn’t a more suitable hiding place – so long as Jessicuh no longer occupied its centre. I just needed to squeeze through the upper window and conceal myself. My first glance between the shutters was promising: Jessicuh was gone. Only a shallow tub filled with purple juice remained. I grinned as I parted the shutters and took a quick look over my shoulder. The orcs were getting closer, but they clearly didn’t know where I was. I had time to creep quietly into the kitchen. And so I began to pry the shutters open, being sure to keep them from creaking too loudly. A bare, dusty shelf offered the perfect ledge for my palms to rest upon as I slithered my body inside like a snake into a chicken coop. the window wasn’t big, but I had experience fitting into tight spaces, so I knew I could fit… even if I was a little wider… Slam. I gasped in shock as I felt the shutters violently close against my waist. Frantic tugging and pulling only affirmed that my hips were firmly wedged in place. I was stuck! “Mweheheheh…” I felt a pair of little feet land on my round arse with a sprightful bounce and hissed with rage. “Gnobbo,” I thrashed my legs out (but in vain). “Get off me!” “What’s the matter, drow? In a tight squeeze?” “By any god or goddess, I swear if you don’ get off me right now I’ll punt you clear off this mountain!” But Gnobbo didn’t budge. I heard her titter to herself, revelling in her power. “You should’ve helped me eat that first night,” she shifted her weight across her feet, cheek to cheek. “Now you shall feel the sting of justice from a gnoblin vagabond…” Thwack. “Ngh…” I grit my teeth and suppressed the urge to scream. Whatever Gnobbo had swatted my ass with, it was probably meant for horses. “Do you feel that, Deep Purple? I bet your skin is reddening already.” Thwack. “Gnobbo…” I strained every syllable with a mixture of pain and wrath. “You fool! They’ll catch us both!” “You underestimate me,” Gnobbo chuckled. “When those beef-brained buffoons get here, I’ll be on my way back to the Pen… and you… you’ll be caught like a dog in a fence post.” Thwack. “Rrhr!” I reared my head and clenched my jaw. That mutt had whipped between my cheeks from below! I couldn’t take anymore! To hell with stealth! With all my strength and speed, I braced myself to jerk backwards and bucked Gnobbo into the air. “Eeeee!” the little monster shrieked. I heard a thud, a heavier thud, and an echoing clatter. Gnobbo had fallen off the roof and the whole resort was abuzz. “It’s here!” some orc called. “There it goes!” “Fuck me,” said another. “It’s just another gnome.” “’nother god’s-damned gnome infestation.” “Who’s catching it?” “Just secure the doors; they aren’t smart…” I lay there halfway through the window for a moment, utterly shocked at my own luck. Not only had I dislodged the shutters as well ass the two-legged pest, I had inadvertently thrown the orcs off my scent! Elated, I slipped my way into the kitchen, wincing as my ass cheeks throbbed from Gnobbo’s abuse. I leapt into the midst of the room, landing by the tub of purple juice… and finding myself face-to-face with a mirror.

Eddie Murphy for sure. Pretty sure his character Donkey marrying a bigass dragon was not a coincidence.

Chapter Thirty I awoke at the soft touch of Cinder’s hand against my face. “Weady?” “Hm?” I wasn’t awake enough to discern her words. “Who is…? Oh… a moment…” Deprived of Cinder’s soft, pillowy body, the girls had compensated with the next biggest body – mine. Perhaps “big” was the wrong word to describe myself. I was merely tall. This fact did not deter everyone from snuggling against me in their sleep. To my right was Victoria, snoring into my ear with her arms about me, on my left, Seerah. Between them, square between my breasts and nestled beneath the other girls’ arms, was Gnobbo. I looked down upon their snoring faces and felt despair threatening to overtake me. But I stifled the emotions with a long, cautious sigh. I would get out of her no matter the odds. “Cinder,” I whispered. “Cinder… we need to get me out without waking them.” Cinder hovered indecisively overhead. “How? “Ngh…” I glanced down for a better look at the mess I’d tangled myself into. “look at Seerah’s arm. You see it?” “Um… yes.” “See how it’s resting on top? I need you to peel it off of me.” “Awlwright… easy does it…” “That’s it… good girl. Good. Now get Vicky’s arm. Careful… gently… Victoria snorted so loudly, Cinder nearly dropped her arm. To our horror, Victoria retracted her arm and curled it into herself. For a moment, Cinder and I remained petrified in place, waiting for our fates to be decided. Fate smiled on us; Victoria rolled away and her snoring faded to a faint whisper. We were free… save for one final obstacle. Gnobbo remained firmly-implanted in my bosom. The little demi-creature had curled her limbs beneath her body and tucked her head into the space between my breasts. Save for the tufts of untamed hair on her head and the steady breathing, she was like a bread loaf. Dislodging her would be tricky. I gave Cinder a look, but she didn’t move. It seemed she didn’t know how to proceed. I glanced down at the warm loaf that was Gnobbo and sighed. I couldn’t wait a moment longer; I had a mission to complete. Slowly, I lay a hand atop Gnobbo’s back and eased myself to a sitting position. Now I was halfway up. Next, I began to rise to my feet – Ping. I froze. One of Gnobbo’s ears had emerged from the loaf, erect and quivering. I’d seen this behaviour with cats – she was on the cusp of awakening. Cinder and I stared at the quivering ear, hardly daring to breathe. It felt like an age, but eventually, the ear relaxed and folded itself back into its place. I rose to my feet… and gently lay the cumbersome pest at Seerah’s side. Free at last! I flexed and shook my limbs as I revelled in the feeling. “Right,” I said. “Toss me, Cinder. Quick.” Cinder obeyed with a quick groping of my waist and an effortless hoisting through the hole in the ceiling toward the sea of stars and the waning crescent of the Moon. Once again, I was free to roam the Starter Resort, but in my heart I knew this would be the last time. I had one remaining chance to find a way out, else I get expelled… or worse. I jogged across the terracotta rooftop, my mind racing as fast as my legs – and likewise struggling. “Where to?” I muttered to myself, trying to avoid thinking of the way my thighs quivered and my breasts bounced with every hurried step. “Not the entrance. That’s sealed tight… ugh, so tight…” I paused at a corner of the roof. I wasn’t catching my breath – I didn’t have to – it was just that my Pigskin was constricting me to the point I could hardly breathe. “Easy girl,” I huffed to myself. “No need to rush if no one’s watching…” My breasts heaved heavily with every rise of my chest, straining against their constraints like coconuts in a bag. I stared in wonder at them, for I’d not realized how fat they’d grown. They’d always been more than a couple handfuls, but now they were nearly twice their original size. I’d have flet them again were I not hunched with my hands on my thighs. My thighs… they especially had grown. What was firm muscle coiled with power and toned to perfection was now pliably-soft. That softness was misleading, for its bulk pressed outwards in all directions with all the passive strength of running water. A whole inch of extra padding was constantly pressing against the already skintight pigskin, rubbing and chafing near the top of my narrowing thigh gap with every step. So tight were my soft thighs, I noticed they were tingling and throbbing to the beat of my pounding heart. I looked upon all of these developments as I steadied myself and – with a heavy sigh – relaxed and stood erect. I wasn’t fat – not yet. Beneath this softness was hard muscle trained to kill for a lifetime, waiting to be used again. The extra layer was merely yet another disguise. “Enough,” I muttered to myself and laced my fingers, stretching my arms toward the crescent Moon. “Time to finish this…” A clay tile fell from the terracotta roof with a resounding clatter. I froze mid-stretch, had I been seen? My body was fully-outlined in the silvery moonlight. If I’d been seen, I had to act fast. So I listened closely, ears flexing every angle in search of a sound. It seemed all was clear – until a crisp voice cut the silence like a knife. “Eyeballs, Deep Purple.” I spun towards the voice, leg cocked for a roundhouse kick. The terracotta beneath me slid free and I was suddenly falling flat on my ass as a high-pitched voice laughed maniacally. “Mwaheheheheheh!” the cackling little voice echoed across the craggy mountain peaks from all directions. “I fooled you! I fooled you!” My fear gave way to shock followed by simmering rage as I realized who it was. “Gnobbo,” I hissed the name as a curse. “Tis I!” the gnome-goblin replied, unseen. “Vul’s venom, how in hells did you get out?” “How indeed!” her voice was crisp and witty. “We gnomes have our ways. Fret not on such things, for you’ll have more pressing matters soon.” “Quiet, mutt,” I snarled. “You’ll get us both caught.” “Ha! They’ll never catch me! This is my people’s ancestral domain, clumsy oaf, and you drows are naught but trespassers – there is only one true dirt-dwelling race!” Too late, I saw torches trailing through the darkness toward me. Something small rushed behind me and slapped my rump with a resounding smack. “Ah!” I held my throbbing cheek with one hand and swung with the other. Alas, I hit nothing. Gnobbo’s laughter taunted me from all directions like a haunting spectre. Seething, I looked back and saw the torches fast approaching. I had no choice – I had to flee. “You can never escape!” Gnobbo’s voice trailed after me. “None dare tread in the Valley of the Gnomes!”

I must say, this is not how I pictured a zombie apocalypse. I’m still curious about those giant “zombies” outside the farm and where they came from.

Chapter Twenty-Nine Losing Aniya was something I’d never considered, such was my focus on escaping this starter resort hell, yet now I stood in shock as the diminutive dark elf held me dearly one last time as she ripped free of her pigskin as I realized all at once that my one true confidante was about to leave me. There would be no one left to share my secrets with. I alone would be left to complete the mission. “Zaiva!” Aniya gripped me by the arms and looked straight into my eyes. “You need to think of me!” I shook my head. “What?” “It’s the key! You need to –” The orcs were upon her in an instant. One moment Aniya was holding me close, in the next she was dragged into a circle of orcs that began shielding her from everyone’s gaze. “Move,” an orc shoved past me. “Everyone keep away from her right now!” the Kilted-Orc stormed her way across half the farm to Aniya’s side. “She’s gone.” It was all routine at this point, but I couldn’t bear to look away from Aniya even as the orcs tried to block the view of her with their bodies, for I might never see her again. Aniya’s pigskin was turning white. Like the starter before her, she was a “pear” and bottom heavy. Most every pound she’d gained had packed itself into her lower half, around her thighs, either side of her hips, and especially her ass. Like she’d said only moments ago, she was indeed a fatass. Her cheeks bulged through the widening tear, jiggling as the fabric rearranged itself to expose and hold them like trophies. She was writhing and moaning through the experience, so much so that one of the orcs had scooped her arms under her armpits to keep her from falling. “Mmh,” Aniya cocked one leg and rubbed it against the other. “Why’s it doing this to me?” “Nobody cares, fat one!” the orc behind her growled. “Shut your mouth and stop moving.” Aniya looked like she was trying to comply, but the way her pigskin was moving across her body was making it difficult. Two holes ripped open near the very top of her inner thighs, allowing the dark skin within to squish and rub freely against one another. The tears became holes lined with stitching as if they had always been a feature of the full-length bodysuit. The fabric seemed to rub and flex its way across her like a snake swallowing its prey, and even as it let go of some of her in the form of rips and holes, it also seemed to bunch and squeeze elsewhere – the crotch, the waist, under the ass cheeks. There wasn’t a part of her that escaped its transformation. Finally, with two final, dramatic rips, the pigskin tore two more gaps at the top of either end of her pelvic lobes, revealing two nascent lovehandles just thick enough to pinch. Aniya stopped moaning, and her squirming ground to a halt. The Kilted-Orc didn’t even give her a second glance. “Write it down, Scribe: Starter Aniya. Ass. Type: Pear.” More orcs came, waving their arms at the crowd that had formed around the scene. “Eyes on the dirt!” one yelled. “Nobody cares! Get back to work!” With that, I returned to the backbreaking work of harvesting ingredients for potions I didn’t understand. Behind me, I could hear Aniya being rushed away to the weighing room, never to be seen again… … Or would I? “I need your help again.” Cinder looked puzzled as I’d immediately cornered her the moment we’d been locked in the Pen that night, but said nothing. I usually wasn’t this upfront, but the sense that I was running out of time was looming ever more in my mind. Hopefully no one realized what I was up to. “Remember last time?” I asked her. “The way we did firewatch? We need to do that tonight.” “Tonight?” she asked. “Awre you sure?” “Yes,” I looked left and right to be sure no one was listening. “You want that blanket, right? We’re running out of time. We lost three people today, Aniya’s gone… if you burst then I’ll… then you’ll be stuck without one.” “Maybe it won’t be so bad once we buwrst…” “Look, who knows how long you’ve got before that happens? Don’t you want to be warm?” “I think the body pillouws feewl nice.” “The what?” “The body pillouws. They’wre soft and woarm.” “Are you talking about…? Look, it’s now or never. Even if you don’t want one, I do. So will you do this for me?” Cinder mulled my question an uncomfortable amount of time. At first I thought she was avoiding my question, but then I realized she was waiting for curious ears to stop eavesdropping on us. She glanced upwards at the hole in the ceiling and sighed. “Shuwre. Awlwright.” I patted her waist (the closest part in reach) and nodded with satisfaction. “Just like last time,” I said. I walked towards the usual group of girls that had grown used to sleeping together – Victoria, Seerah, and Gnobbo – and prepared myself for unwanted socializing. “I’m going to miss her,” I heard Seerah say to the others as I approached. “Whomst?” asked Gnobbo. “Aniya,” Seerah didn’t seem to notice Gnobbo was making a joke. “She’s my best friend.” “It’s alright,” I said as I approached them. “You’ll see her when you burst.” “If you burst,” Victoria added. Seerah shot her a puzzled look. “Was that really necessary?” “I’m not being mean,” Victoria shrugged. “Just realistic. There’s no telling who bursts and who doesn’t anymore. Aniya was smaller than me – it makes no sense.” “Frustrated?” I smiled down at her. “I remember you said you’d be the next to burst last night.” “Obviously,” she replied. “It isn’t fair. I’m eating as fast as I can and I still haven’t burst. Actually… Zaiva? You were the last one talking to Aniya. Do you recall exactly what happened?” “Can’t. Sorry.” “Please, Zaiva. Can’t you remember anything? Anything at all?” The only thing I could remember was Aniya’s last words before she was taken away from me: think of me, Zaiva! I hadn’t thought much of it until now. The way she’d said it… it was as if she were trying to get me to know something. Had she somehow found a clue for bursting, or was she being sentimental? Well, I was thinking of her now and nothing was happening – probably nothing, then. I shook my head. “Nope. We were just talking.” “Please, Zaiva. If I – if we can learn how she did it we’ll burst and get to graduate. We’d never have to sleep in the dirt again!” “Speaking of sleeping,” Seerah interjected. “What’s Cinder doing? Isn’t she coming to sleep with us?” I followed her gaze to find Cinder browsing the tinder pile again. “She’s taking the first shift of firewatch,” I explained. “Looks like it, anyway. I don’t know anything about it.” “Aww, but I like sleeping with her,” Seerah sighed. “She’s so big and cozy.” “Big,” Gnobbo emphasized with her hands. “She’ll just have to join us after she’s done,” I replied. “But what will we do?” asked Seerah. “Well,” Victoria smiled. “I think it’s only fair that we sleep against the next biggest of us.” Suddenly, all eyes turned to me. I blinked stupidly. “Wait, what do you mean?”

It’s rather hilarious to me that in spite of the Pennsylvania setting, there’s still subtle vocabulary clues to show the author is very, very British 😏 be American says “bloke” in casual conversation, and writing “such and such years of age” is also something I’ve only seen in British literature. Americans just write “such and such years old.” I’m one to talk. My laptop is stuck on UK English and I’m too lazy to fix it, which is why my stories are spelled weird (armoUr, coloUr, tYre).

Only @datdaemon knows Zaiva’s true form.

The way I winced at imagining her bony pelvic bones making contact with the seat because there’s no bodyfat to spare 😬

Chapter Twenty-Eight One of the reasons I didn’t want more girls in our sleeping pile was because it was hard enough trying to find Cinder alone to plan another night excursion with so many bodies piling on top of her. To be honest with myself, I hadn’t tried since that first attempt with its disturbing revelations, but Pixie’s absence meant I had to spur my plans. Any one of us could burst at any time – including Cinder, whose thighs were starting to feel a bit too soft. If Cinder burst, I would truly be trapped… “Zaiva? Are you awake?” The other reason I didn’t want Victoria sleeping with us was because she talked too much. “Zaiva?” Victoria pawed at my face. My eyes flashed open. Victoria was in Aniya’s usual place, pinning me into the nook between Cinder’s thigh and hip. Aniya herself had been there when the night had begun, but had squirmed and twisted her way to my side in her sleep. Exhausted I took a slow, deep breath that made Victoria rise and fall. “What?” I asked her. “Am I still beautiful?” “Really? You woke me up for this? Don’t you hate me?” “Well… it’s not like I like you or anything, beggar,” she replied with all the pride her faux nobility could muster. “It’s just that you always tell the truth and that’s what I need right now. So can you tell me if I’m still beautiful?” “The Sultan will find you gorgeous.” “Yes, well… actually…” “What?” “Do you think I’m still beautiful?” What a strange question. What did she mean by that? “Are you trying to trick me?” “Ugh. You’re impossible. We should just sleep now.” “Let’s,” I agreed. Victoria leaned into me with a relaxing sigh. She wrapped her arms around me to keep us snug and warm and – since it would be more awkward otherwise – I did so as well. We lay against one another like that for quite some time. Some other girl rose and fetched another log and dropped it onto the fire with a crackling burst of orange embers before cuddling with her friend again. I distracted myself from the awkwardness by staring at the mosaics covering the walls with its depictions of golden wheatfields, baskets of fruits, and fattened cattle. The flames bathed each tile of the mosaic in an orange glow, and the cattles’ eyes twinkled as if alive. I looked upon the whole mosaic with all the attention a restless soul could muster. It seemed unusual to me to have such a detailed piece of art in an open air Pen such as this – until I realized with a start that this was exactly where to have such art. Here, as we lay sleeping in the dirt, we were the livestock. “Mm,” Victoria squirmed restlessly against my body. “Stop moving…” “I’m not,” I said. “Thighs…” “Huh?” “Mm, soft…” I suddenly realized she was talking in her sleep. Sleep… I never got enough of it, did I? I shut my eyes and prepared myself for whatever happened the next day. The next morning, we lost two more starters to bursting. The first one – some blonde high elf who I barely recognized since she was so quiet – started yelping with glee in the chow hall. I wasn’t at a good angle to see her, but I didn’t have to. “I did it!” she screamed again and again. “Oh, I did it! Yes! It’s ripping my belly’s ripping –" “Shut up, you!” the kilted-orc stormed to her side. “Write this down, scribe: ‘Starter Lydia. Belly. Type: Apple.’” Lydia was whisked away to the weighing room after that, never to return. The second girl to burst was another quiet girl I barely recognized: some human with her bland, brunette hair bobbed to shoulder length like a common peasant. Peasant or not, she was a hard worker on the Farm and was particularly good at uprooting the crop of mountain-tubers we were harvesting. It was all so sudden. One moment I was stooped behind her tugging a large mountain-tuber by the stalk, and the next I heard a resounding rip, looked-up, and saw that she’d split the ass seam of her pigskin trying to do likewise. “Who kicked me?” she cried, seemingly oblivious to the widening hole behind herself. “Someone kicked me in the – aahh!” The brunette’s bobbed hair tossed and turned as the pigskin’s shifting fabric bucked and squeezed her like a cattle rancher tackling a stray calf. Her fat cheeks bulged outwards like ripe cantaloups and shook violently with every stumbling step. Even before her pigskin changed colour, I could tell that this transformation was different. The pigskin wasn’t reforming into the same shape as before with the other girls. Instead of parting down the front of her body or closing the tear over her ass, the ass seam spread wider. Fabric bunched underneath the bulging, quivering ass cheeks, squeezing them tightly and boosting them upwards like hardboiled eggs. Seams on the sides of her thighs split to let the skin spread and breathe. By the time the orcs had swarmed around her, her pigskin had turned a brilliant white and the transformation was complete. The kilted-orc was indifferent to the new transformation. She merely stood before the spectacle with her arms folded, clenching her jaw. “Scribe,” she said firmly. “Starter Bobette. Haunches. Type: Pear.” It was “Bobette’s” turn to be taken away, leaving the rest of us in a mixed state of shock, excitement, and anticipation. I myself was getting so worried that I nearly tripped backwards pulling a mountain-tuber. Only forty-six of us were left – and worse, only forty-two before I was disqualified. I now had no choice but to subdue my fears and hesitations and go on another night excursion. There was no time to lose! I needed to talk to Cinder again… “Hey.” I looked-up from my work to find Aniya smiling at me. “Hey…” I replied cautiously. “Weren’t you sent to another field…?” “I snuck over while everyone was staring at Bobette,” she stooped to tug at some nearby tuber to blend in. “Quite a development, huh?” “You could say it came from behind.” “Ah, good one.” “So what are you going to tell me?” Aniya didn’t reply right away. She glanced left and right for prowling sword-sworn and nosy starters before getting even closer. “Lemme help with that,” she grasped the same tuber as myself, dark-brown hands over my purple ones, and said in a low, hushed voice: “I know what these are for.” “What?” I tugged softly, maintaining the façade. “These are ingredients for sleeper potion.” “Sleeper potion?” now I was the one to glance around. “We’re making sleeper potion? Why?” “Dunno… it’s kinda hard to think with this pigskin strangling me.” “No kidding,” I glanced down her body before returning to work. “Fatass.” Aniya’s ass was indeed fatter than ever. What had once been narrow and bony had ripened into an impressive double-set of orbs. Each cheek was round and smooth as river stones, and the thighs beneath rubbed and squeaked against one another every time she bent low. “Yea, I’m a fatass,” she chuckled. “I swear I can feel my blood pumping through the veins back there.” “So,” I tossed a dirt-coated tuber into a pile I’d made on the corner of the lot. “Growth potion for farming, and one of the products is sleeper potion. There’s got to be more to this. What else can you recognize?” ‘Nothing poisonous; that’s for sure,” she replied as she arched her aching back. “Poisons are kinda my thing, so I don’t recognize this other stuff… by the way, what did you find on your little adventure? You never told me.” The truth was I hadn’t the courage to describe what I saw. Jessicuh’s fate as a massive plum-coloured juicing machine was a horrifying sight I wished to never witness again. It was hard enough eating knowing I was devouring traces of her juice and slowly stretching my stomach – harder, still, knowing that I’d nearly suffered the such a fate myself. “Nothing important,” I finally told her. “Besides, why don’t you leave that to me? That fat ass of yours isn’t getting any smaller.” Rip. Aniya stared at me with wide eyes. Slowly, she turned sideways, reached around herself and gasped as her trembling fingers found soft, dark skin bulging from a tear between her legs. I was almost to stunned to speak. “A-aniya…” “Zaiva!” she cried. Riiiip. Aniya moaned as her ass seam tore itself from crotch to spine. With a gasp, she flung herself into my arms. “Zaiva! Think of me! You have to –” “Bursting, bursting, bursting!” The cry was out; the orcs were storming-in from all directions, and Aniya groaned as she held me for balance. I stared transfixed as I slowly began to realize I’d be losing my only true friend, and slowly – painfully slowly – Aniya’s pigskin began to change.

Chapter Twenty-Seven Pixie didn’t return to work the Farm with us, nor the next meal, nor even the Pen. There was a buzz of anticipation and excitement that built throughout the day. Questions simmered in all our minds unanswered, and just as the orcs had lit our bonfire and made ready to seal us in the Pen once more, they came to a boil. “Starter Victoria requests permission to ask a question!” The kilted-orc paused in the doorframe, and I thought she might turn and punish the human woman for delaying sleep but she merely turned and waved her arm dismissively with an ominous glare. Perhaps she showed mercy because Victoria had never sounded more brave and resolved; perhaps this was a question she’d been waiting to hear, but either way every last one of us waited with bated breath. “What happened to Starter Pixie?” Victoria asked as she did her best not to fidget. “You saw what happened,” the kilted-orc grunted. “Starter Pixie’s not a starter no more. She’s a ‘stuffer’ now.” “A… uh…” “Ears,” the kilted-orc scuffed some ash back into the firepit to make it spark like iron in a smithy. “you don’t need to know what happened to Stuffer Pixie or where she went or whatever the fuck else. If you wanna know, then stuff your faces and join her, you understand? Say yes right now.” “Yes!” was the resounding cry. “Then I swear,” Victoria lay a hand on her (slightly bulging) chest. “By my father’s honour, I’ll be the next one to burst!” “Did I ask? Get your heads on the dirt right now!” Everyone lay down as if to sleep, but the moment the door slammed shut and the lock clicked, the Pen came to life with excited chatter and gossip. “First to burst my ass,” Stupid One chuckled. “I can do it,” Victoria sat-up and folded her arms, making sure to cross them under her breasts to make them look bigger. “You’ll see.” “All I see is that gut of yours looking a little flat.” “Me? Flat? You’re one to talk Stupid One.” “My name is ‘Stacy,’” said Stupid One. “And if you don’t believe me, stand next to me and let everyone judge whose is bigger.” “I will!” Victoria eagerly hopped her way to Stupid One’s side. They fumbled clumsily against one another as they found the best way to compare themselves before settling with standing shoulder to shoulder. “See?” Stupid One patted her plush, well-fed belly with triumph. “What’d I tell you? It’s bigger than yours.” “Um, no it’s not,” Victoria straightened herself and smooshed closer to her rival. “Mine sticks out a whole inch further out than yours.” “But mine’s a different shape. See?” Stupid One took Victoria’s hand and lay it on her side. “You feel that? The fat on me spreads around my sides like butter on unleavened bread. But your fat…” she moved Victoria’s hand to her own side. “…just packs into the front like pudding. So I’m bigger.” “What utter nonsense… Zaiva? Zaiva wake up.” I sighed and sat cross-legged before the fire, the flames licking skyward between us. “I’m awake… we all are.” “Which one of us is bigger?” “Stupid One,” I replied instantly. “My name is Stacy,” Stupid One grumbled. “Ahem,” Victoria closed her eyes and smiled to herself. “I wasn’t specific enough. What I meant to ask was: whomst of us has gained more?” From the far corner of the Pen, Gnobbo tittered with glee from the safety of Cinder’s gigantic bosom. “Whomst,” cackled the gnome-goblin. “Ooh, laugh it up pipsqueak,” Stupid One pointed at her. “We’ll see how long it takes you to gain that second pound.” “Hhh-eumst!” Gnobbo with a mischievous grin. “Tell us, Zaiva,” Victoria insisted. I scratched my neck and sighed. “I forget. Don’t you two remember how much you weighed this morning?” They looked at each other before turning back to me. “I’ve gained twenty pounds,” said Stupid One. “Ah! I gained twenty-two!” replied Victoria with a wag of her head. “But I ate so much today so… twenty-three pounds. So there!” Aniya suddenly appeared between them (it seemed to me her stealth training was top notch). “Guys,” she wrapped both her arms about their waists and hugged them close. “How much you weigh isn’t everything.” “Sure it is,” Victoria insisted. “Why wouldn’t it be?” “Well,” Aniya rubbed their sides comfortingly. “Remember how much Pixie gained? Only, like, seventeen pounds – much less than you two.” “Maybe she was shorter?” asked Stupid One. “We probably need a certain amount of stuffing to be properly plump. Shorter people would need to gain less.” “Mm-mm!” Gnobbo bobbed excitedly in Cinder’s arms at that notion. “I thought so too, at first,” Aniya said thoughtfully. “Until I remembered Pixie was behind you for every weigh-in, which means…” “Which means she was taller than us, gained less, and still burst before us,” Stupid One said sombrely. “Meaning,” I folded my arms. “There’s something else that makes us ready to burst… something we don’t know…” “But what?” asked Victoria. “Whatever it is, I need to know it!” “Hey,” Aniya hugged the two girls once more and gave their shoulders a pat. “All we know is to eat good… and get fat.” “Don’t need to tell me twice,” Victoria smiled. “Well then! Off to bed. Time to let this meal digest and empty for tomorrow.” “You said it,” Aniya let them go and walked to me. “Come on, my sweet plum. Let’s get to bed.” I was about to tell her to never call me “plum” again when Victoria cleared her throat. “Ahem,” she’d taken a hesitant step toward us. “Um… if you would have the pleasure, may I…?” I’d have said “no” if Aniya didn’t let her sleep with us literally with open arms.

Chapter Twenty-Six By now, all activity in the chow hall had ceased. None were eating, the sword-sworn weren’t patrolling, and even the din of hushed banter had ceased. There remained but one sight to behold and one voice to be heard, and it was Pixie and her pigskin. Near sixty people were twisting in their seats and craning their necks to see what was happening to the girl, but though a crowd was forming, I was taller than most and so I could see her transformation clearly. Pixie had torn a seam through sheer gluttony – that much was certain – but gluttony alone couldn’t explain how so many seams had popped soon after the first. In fact, I could see now that some tears were closing again! Fabric slid and shifted across her skin, prying apart and squeezing in equal measure. “Rip it off!” Pixie begged. “It’s augh… it’s attacking m – uhgh…” Like a mighty jungle snake, the pigskin slid in short, smooth bursts. A wide gap over her cleavage grew wider, letting soft, jiggling flesh spread outwards like two massive hardboiled eggs, and at the same time the side seams sealed shut. Likewise, a second gap emerged below the first, following the vertical line between that had been buried in soft bellyfat that oozed more than a couple inches out. Meanwhile, the fabric between the two gaps bunched and tightened, squeezing just under her grapefruit-sized breasts. It changed form, bunching and cupping her breasts before boosting them up and outward. I watched all of this with keen eyes and a keener mind. The other starters hadn’t witnessed a bursting pigskin before, but I had – I’d overheard it, anyway. That night where I’d found Jessicuh in the kitchen as she transformed into a glorified cooking ingredient still haunted me. That time, Jessicuh’s pigskin had simply torn itself clean-off her body. This time was different, it seemed. Pixie’s pigskin wasn’t tearing off, it was becoming a new outfit entirely. Why? Could it be that the pigskins knew when to hold and when to give? Could it be they had lives of their own? Alive or not, this was unlike any other enchanted garment I’d ever seen! With a final cinch of the loins that had Pixie helplessly moaning, the pigskin began its final transformation and slowly darkened from leathery, light-brown to a vibrant red. At last, Pixie was still and quiet as a mouse, yet breathing heavily in anticipation of any further changes. Not a word was spoken – until the kilted-orc sprang into action. “Move,” she barged through the crowd like a lioness to its watering hole. All scurried away from her path, fearing her very touch. She leapt upon the table, ignoring the plates at her feet and loomed tall over the shivering girl. Pixie was still resting her arms against the glass table, her every breath trembling and jiggling her newly-freed breasts. She looked-up into the kilted-orc’s face without blinking, desperately trying not to look under the kilt. “Get up here!” the kilted-orc ordered. “On the table; do it now: move!” Eyes wide and mouth agape, Pixie obeyed the order as if in a trance. I could see a maddening mixture of emotions in those wide, sparkling eyes of hers: embarrassment, excitement, but awe and wonder most of all. The kilted-orc, on the other hand, only showed professional disdain as she lifted Pixie’s arm and prodded her with all her fingers stiff as a knife. “Scribe!” she called. “Write this down! ‘Starter Pixie: Breast and belly. Type: apple.’” “Apple?” Pixie asked curiously. “Did I tell you to talk?” “N-no…” “There’s no way… there’s no gods-damned way you’re still lost in the sauce, Fat One!” “I’m sorry…” “Never say that word again! Eyeballs: you’re going with me to the weighing room. Scribe! On me!” With that, Pixie was escorted out of the chow hall, leaving behind a half-eaten plate of food and a sea of confused faces.